i can't remember the time when i started being afraid of life, love and living. maybe it was so long ago i relegate it to the antique era of first crushes and first tastes of alcohol. nothing has conspired to make me the stoic anti-vulnerability wreck i am today, yet it has become such a defining aspect of my personality that i know not how to rid myself of my self-imposed curse. so much self-denial, self-indulgence, double thinking whirls inside my overwrought brain that it resembles a flushed toilet, spinning inexorably one way into the indifferent dark depths of inconsequence. and now, when something has turned up to prod at the deceptively calm surface of my emotional puddle, i try everything possible to rectify the rippling effect and mentally self-flagellate incessantly and unforgivingly. yet despite my concerted efforts, i seem to come full circle: i end up tired, beaten, and slightly diminished. the puddle is still there, the ripples have disappeared, but i am smaller than before.
ok this entry very emo and nothing has actually happened to me but it's true that the nights are lonely, dark and deep. it's trueee.
also, cambodia update soonz~~~~~