I shouldn't pull all-nighters, really. My assignment's supposed to be done by now but all I'm doing is nothing, productivity-wise. Should have turned in when the bf did; at least my eyes wouldn't burn when I put on my contacts in a few hours to head off to work. Suppose I'll be early for once. Haha.

That feeling of unrest I mentioned here months ago is back. (Was it here or at the other secret space? Ah, insignificant.) This isn't PMS, cos I'm pretty steady emotionally through out my cycle. Alright I know noone's reading, and if by some miracle, you actually are, I'm sure you don't care if I suffer from PMS or not, but it's 5.27 on a Monday morning and this is the space I've chosen for release.

I think I might be experiencing some sort of...numbness.

How significant is anything, really? Family, friends...love. Relationships. Are they really existent for happy purposes? My answer would be a loud yes, naturally, since I've beautiful people around me whom I know I'm bloody lucky to have. People who love me, whom I love dearly, and treasure very, very much. I don't doubt their importance as individuals, nor the significance of all they have to offer me or the rest of the world.

The question is, while noone understands me well, am I happy? Why the heck doesn't anyone, anyway?

Well I suppose I do keep things to myself. Can't blame me...since my views and explanations are seldom understood, and sometimes regarded nonsensical. But those are my explanations, and they make sense to me. Guess that's probably cos they're the results of MY reasoning and reactions to MY situations. So why bother?

How can you honestly love me without knowing me well?

I try talking. And I try, and then I try some more. Afterwhich I give up and settle for being mad/weird/dumb/. I AM all that, just not by default. I can be immature or mature, insensitive or very aware, but those don't define me. You can't do a label cos I'm a person, not a jar. Everyone gets different sides from me cos everyone's a situation; you get what you give. Most of the time. :)

I daresay noone knows me better than I do. And I do long for that to change...it's tiring having a filter; a wall of sorts. You think someone understands you, then they say something and up goes another layer of bricks.

There's an unexplainable kind of comfort in being alone with your thoughts though, don't you think? Maybe being understood is overrated. :)