Sexin’ on the dance floor

So fucking tired. I’m just so fucking tired.

Horrible mood swings. The most trivial things trigger me off, and boom. I get so excited over nothing and so fucking depressed over nothing. This mind getting more and more fucked up. And I really am fucking having a headache now. It’s been one whole day. Glad I didn’t go school. Or I’d have died. Not like I’m much alive now anyway.

I feel sad when I see sad people. There was this woman, alone, at Ramen Play. She couldn’t speak English, didn’t understand the menu much. And when she was waiting for her food alone, she was just … stoning. I was just watching and sadness just came in a gush. I was just feeling so so so so sad. It wasn’t sympathy, that’s for sure. It was more of … empathy, no, just genuine sadness. It was a horrible feeling. I wanted to cry, so bad. I wanted to just hug her and cry my fucking heart out. I really don’t know how to describe this feeling. I just saw her as this speck of unhappiness in a bustling restaurant. So small, so negligible, yet when one catches the sight of it, it engulfs you entirely in its sadness. This may sound crazy, sentimental, funny, but it’s not something I can convey with words, well or at least not with my standard of English. The sadness left me breathless. It was so overwhelming I can still taste it. The aftertaste lingers.

Or maybe I’m just weird.

And so, I’m in this fucking sad mood now. A pile of textbooks and worksheets next to me and I ask myself why the fuck did I get myself into this at the first place. Sometimes I wish I was born starving in Africa.

My mind is fucked up.

It’s fucking back. Good luck surviving, self.


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