Time!

Oh my.

I'm sorry for leaving the blog like this, so somber and sad! My last posts are sad and discouraging, but really, for you to see in the future, life is not all that bad. (I'm just lazy to write anything in between)

I guess it's pretty good because you know, I can't stay happy all the time; for the most of the time yes, but all the time no. But like every time in life most of the time is okay, they're okay. Sometimes awesome, but sometimes pretty crappy too.

People said that by growing up we have less things to be happy about and to feel awesome about (I probably have stated so too.. I think) and it's probably true! Of course, when we are younger we know less stuff so a lot of new things so awesome but we grow into knowing there're better stuff, better people, people who are stupid and mean, evil corporations, manipulative media, and stuff like that. Moreover, there are more stuffs to be done and more activities people want you to join and more expectations for you to reach. So other than stuffs that make you think you're bad and not cool and you are surrounded by things and people who are intimidating in any way you can think of, you have less time to think about how lucky you are to have this or that or how easy life is for you compared to some people or that nothing actually mattered.

And that is most of my problem.

I have less time to think about things that makes me happy and warm inside. I have less to be thankful (as stupid as it sounds). It's not like it takes a lot of time or anything, it's just... well. It seems like a lot of things are present for me to think about so sometimes I forgot to take a break and a deep breath (not to mention that most of that stuff doesn't really matter to me). And thus life seems like it's become harder and meaner than it was before and I can't stay happy as much as I used to.

But it doesn't have to be like that!

The truth is there is always a time, and there'll always be enough time! I just have to be better at sorting things to do or think so life doesn't feel like it has become more.... not fun.

Hmm. It will probably be easier if I realized what is it that I'm passionate about so, you know, the sorting part is much simpler.

But meh! This will do at the moment.

I know

"You never know what you got until it's gone."

I always assume that it hurts a lot when things that have always been there with you gone, without you realizing how much it means to you the whole time.

Guess what.

It hurts a lot more when you DO know what you got, this whole time, and then it's gone.

Just like my good umbrella that I lost at school last year.
Or the best kitty in the world that has gone last February.

And it turns out that knowing it'll gone anytime don't help. The knowledge that you'll be left behind doesn't console anything. It won't change that your heart will be broken all the same.

So.

You never know what you got until it's gone---no you don't. You always know what you got. You just think you would never lost it. Or forgot that it would eventually gone.

But even if you remember...
It doesn't change the fact that you might get sad a little,
or depressed a little,
or cries a little (or a lot),
when it happens.


And that's not so bad.

Given the right amount of time, everything heals.
Because you have a lifetime to heal, and even if you don't,

nothing here will hurt after death.

Bouncing back

Why hello again! After last month pretty depressing post and un-depressing post un-posted I had in my drafts I think I have to cheer this blog up again.

Anyway.

My aunt past away recently.

This auntie is one that I've always remember saying "You're pretty." to me at times I greet her or visit her on holidays. Even in the last day I visit her at the hospital, she said so too--and she said that she's not being nice or merely saying that, and that she really thinks I'm pretty.

(I was beaten at that time, she told me I shouldn't had come if I were tired; at that time I thought "I might not have the chance to visit you again so I pushed myself today"--because there are lot of stuff in my agenda at the time--but I didn't say anything.)

I am not sad because I don't have the reason to. She rested in peace, and my mom said the reason that she hasn't past away when my mother visited her in the afternoon was (probably) solely because she was waiting for her family to be there with her. And she was loved and she was one of the nicest auntie I've ever had.

Heh. So much cheering this blog up.

But really.

People stress, depress and upset sometimes. Sometimes they're anxious and worried. And afraid. Of things. Of some stuffs.

Me too.

In the end what's important is that... I have people around me to remind me that I'm okay and everything is okay. That everything's fine and I have nothing to worry, stress, depress or be anxious about.

That the world (with stuffs and everything in it) will never stop for me to grief. That the sun will always rise in the morning no matter I don't want any of them at that moment, and that the assignments are still due tomorrow even if I don't feel like doing it.

Even if those people have to leave at some point (like one I love that has), I hope that I will never run out of those people. And that if I do, I'm big enough to remember that all by myself.

07:34 AM

My eyes hurt. My head hurts too.

I wish I can stop crying. But maybe not anytime soon. It's only about an hour since he's gone forever.

I played with the idea of losing him. Not once or twice. (Always ended up crying my eyes out)

Still. The moment I heard the news I don't cry. I have the urge to throw up. (Worse) Then cry my eyes out.

Really.

Hearing that the first thing in the morning is not good for my stomach. (Or me in general)






I've always wanted to grow old with him.

I imagined stuff like he's with me after I'm getting married and having kids. (But not really, because it turns out I've never really imagined what life would be with marriage or kids.) I imagined stuff like having him in my wedding, in my graduation, think about how to leave him when I have to study abroad; looking at him through Skype, wishing if he would look at me through the screen (because he's bad at it), or if he even recognizes me through screen.

But it turns out that none of that is happening. But that's okay too. I just wish that we will be reunited later on. After my life reached its credits as well.






Thank God for letting me... know. Preparing myself of the idea from his worsening condition.

(He was cold when I hugged him. And shivering when I left him. I should have known.)

Thank God that I'm able to do something before he actually left. I'd be devastated if he were to die in our house without me actually know what's happening. Or doing anything.







I was so very afraid. I was afraid and sad and confused. (Mostly afraid)

And it turns out that I have every reason to be afraid.

He was dying.

And I had hoped.

But it's probably better this way. You're a pretty old guy.








You are not cute. But I love you still.

(I lied. You are cute. Not the cutest in the whole universe. But you're cute enough that you're the one I love the most. The most.)








I don't know if you love me, Mitton. I'm a terrible owner, I only hope I'm not terrible at making you feel loved.

You're a good kitty. The best kitty.

See you real soon.

So I was talking to my mother....

"Mom. I think I'm sick. My heart beats faster at random times--and I really meant random times--so bad that there's one time I can't sleep because of that."

"You're not sick. There's must be something bothering you. Inside your head. Something that you want to be done and over with."

"But! Random times! I don't think I thought of anything similar at those times."

"Dear, your body... every organ inside you, doesn't lie. You can be convinced that you're okay but your body certainly doesn't think so. You're stressed."

"...I thought I'm having heart attack."

"Young people who have heart attack usually got it from birth, and they don't have their heart beat fast at random times. It happens all the time. And they got tired easily. You don't."

"...oh."

"95% of sickness comes from the mind, dear."