Is sick.

So I started getting sick on Thursday morning. Perhaps I caught something from someone during Wednesday's 4 hour lockdown in the canteen. I don't know. But Thursday morning I awoke to an annoying pain in my throat. It annoyed me. All day.

Friday morning I awoke to a throat in more pain than before. More pain than I thought it would be in. Added to this was the fact that now my head felt the slightest bit achey. I shrugged it off because I was sick not too long ago, and I didn't think I could be getting sick again. But was I? Sure enough about an hour into my shift I felt about as fucked as a porn star doing DVDA. Managed to get the Supervisor to grab some Panadol for me from sick bay, followed by my brother rolling around to poke fun at me for being a sissy. Good times. I knew that this was either the worst of it, or just the beginning. What do you think it was?

Saturday I could barely drag myself out of bed. Sore throat? Check. Fucked up head? Check. Blocked nose? Check. I could barely breathe, barely open my eyes, barely able to move. I actually woke up a bit before 10am, but managed to pull myself out of bed no sooner than midday. I went against the Panadol instructions, and took far more than recommended. This particular range of Panadol was the highest strength you can get, in fact it's actually meant for arthritic pain and each dose is meant to last 8 hours (as opposed to standard Panadol's 3-4 hours). I had one dose soon after I got out of bed, but before I went out to Minh's place for the barbecue I popped another 2 doses. For the record, I'm not a big fan of medicating myself and, if I don't need to go out of the house, I'm quite fine with being in pain and looking disgusting. However when you need to go out into the world and see people or work your stupid shift then there's little other choice than to grab some pills and take what you need to get by as normal as can be.

The downside is that Saturday night I was more less out of it while we hung out, ate, played games, and watched a movie.

So we arrive at today (technically yesterday) where I woke up feeling slightly better. High five. I was meant to go out and see Emina today but I didn't really feel that up to it, although it'd be nice to meet her man and see their child! But the last thing I want to do is go there all zombified and leave with everyone possibly catching whatever I have. There's always next week, anyway.

For now I feel crap. Half my week was made awful by this sickness. I'm probably still going to be feeling it tomorrow (today?) which is going to make my day at work that much worse. Not that any day at work is actually good. Actually, not that any day anywhere is good. Whatever.

I just push on from day to day, hoping that one day all these symbols ring true again. For now it's just 1 from 4, and it isn't a good one.

I miss her.

I still do.

Everyday I wear a fake smile, put on a false laugh, and feign enthusiasm so that everyone thinks I'm strong.

But I miss that girl. More than any eloquently written phrase could ever convey. I miss her, and the pain runs deep. Nothing I do helps.

Epiphany-licious

There are certain times after I've had one of my moments where I look back and consider that perhaps I was a bit too overdramatic. That what seemed to ring true at the time would slowly chime itself out into nothingness as I slowly realised that things weren't like that.

However sometimes things happen afterward that strike the bell once more and reaffirm past realisations of a rather unrighteous feeling.

Long story short? I've been depressed lately, but through the power of mindless work and awesome friends I've been able to maintain a positive facade. Feigning sunshine on the outside whilst inside a tumultuous battle rages on in the darkness. Now the facade I worked so hard to put up is gone again. Just like that.

At work yesterday I nearly broke down several times.
Last night I refused to go out with my friends (although they didn't end up going out in the end anyway).
Today I have cancelled plans to see Shashi's parents again.

I'm meant to be going out tonight and tomorrow, but right now I honestly don't know if I will (or can). I should since it's meant to cheer me up on some level, I just wish it'd fix everything. Even time is failing to heal these wounds.

What do I do?

Tattoo Taboo

So I'm getting my tattoo done this Tuesday morning. After booking it I just couldn't wait for the day to come for getting it done. Honestly. I would've got it done on Thursday when I booked it if it wasn't already so late in the day. But yeah, only 2 more sleeps and off I got to leave another mark on my body. Which brings me to my next rambling point.

My friends are kind of wtf about my tattoo. They keep trying to talk me out of it, and I don't really get it. For a lot of people tattoos seem like this thing that they all want to get, but since it's permanent and they can't really decide on what they want they don't do it. In the case of my friends they also try to convince me not to do it. But they failed.

The way I see it, tattoos aren't that much different from birth marks or scars. The only difference is that I choose when I get a tattoo, what it looks like, and where it goes. But just like all the scars I have, this tattoo tells a story, or has a meaning. It's important to me. I imagine that if I were a religious person that I'd get some holy message from the Quran, but I'm not. There are only a few things I truly believe in, or strive for, or feel. All things that I know first hand, and all things that are real. This first tattoo is the thing I try to believe in the most. The thing that I try the hardest to fight for, and achieve. It's also something I've lost, something that I miss. Something that isn't coming back to me.

There are some things I need to do before I go. These tattoos are one of those things.

Uncapped

and on the loose!

My tattoo plan has been scaled back because I currently have $4000 on loan to my brother since he's strapped for cash and the bank is rorting him. I never imagined that I'd see the day where my brother, a good 14 years older than me, would ever need my help for anything. Like, yeah maybe shifting furniture, various other heavy lifting, and so on. But money? That much money? Crazy.

But yes, about the tattoos. Seeing as Andreya's tatt was about $80, and the ones I'm getting are a tad more intricate, I'm just assuming that it's going to cost more. Possibly a lot more. So instead of getting all 7 symbols done at once (which off the top of my head might end up costing $500-700 or more) I'll just be getting the one to start with. It's the only word of the 4 that consists of a single symbol and it's the one I've wanted to get since the beginning.

I'm not looking forward to my parents' reaction. But really, it's permanent so what are they going to do about it? Nag me to death probably.

The other day I had my uncle go off on a tangent about how I need to get married and so on. Not only is my dad trying to feed this shit to me but now he asks his brother to join in. Like I'm going to ignore my dad and then listen to my uncle? And he's all like "if you can't talk to your father about it you can talk to me." What? If I don't want to get married and I'm not even seeking out my dad's help what makes him think I'm going to go to anyone else for it? Nonsense.

No one really gets it. I found a beautiful and smart girl that loved me and that I loved who was the anti-thesis of all the crap my dad has tried to feed me over the past 6 years. A girl too good to be true. Then I lost her.

I keep a straight face so no one sees the pain being felt,
my heart still reeling from the blow it's been dealt.

I tried so hard

Can't seem to get away from misery.

Going on nearly 2 months now and I still can't get to sleep easily. I struggle to fall asleep, which results in me sleeping very late. Then I wake up early. 99% of the time I wake up with swollen hands from the way I sleep. I don't know how I sleep that's any different, but it must be something I guess.

I try to listen to everyone's advice. Just forget about it, don't think about it, occupy yourself with something else. I try hard but I can't get out of this position that I've found myself in. I spend everyday hiding in my shell, hoping that the pain will leave me and that I can just get on with things and it'll be like normal. It's not working.

I DJ, write lyrics, play video games, go out for an all-nighter each weekend. I have my family and friends beside me. The armour I wear now is old, for 3 years I didn't need it, but now I wonder how it worked before. I look back and wonder how I managed to do this for so long and so well. I left myself too open for too long and now it's too hard to close up shop.

Maybe sleeping pills will help with my sleeping problem. Too bad there's nothing to help with the rest. =/

Epiphany

Definition one, a sudden moment of insight or a revelation.

I think I may have mentioned in my last post that I had a moment while working out in the shed. Like I realised some things, things that never really occurred to me until just then while I was out there. Then they form the hook of my sad story.

I'm not even really sure what I was meant to be posting about in particular. I've only gotten an hour or two of sleep since yesterday so maybe I'm a bit out of it even though I feel ok. I just don't know where my train of thought has gone or what my purpose was meant to be...

I don't know.

I question things now, and I don't like the answers that I find. The reality of it all is just awful. I do what I can to not think about it, but it's hard. Really hard. sigh Oh well.

What I'm trying to work on now (or maybe once I'm uncapped) is finding a good quality picture of the Kanji for the word love that looks pretty. Then off the top of my head there are 3 more words I want to find nice art of. As usual details are slim cause I don't want to alert too many people to what I want to do.

Ok just thinking about my revelations and vaguely talking about them is making me feel ill. So I'm going to try and get to sleep.

I imagine it's going to be hard =/