Writing could get you killed. But not writing would.

I would, of course, opt not to write this given that it’s auto-posted in twitter and that a lot of people could read it (especially those who I MIGHT be mentioning indirectly here). But then if I won’t, it was senseless for me then, to make a blog.


Lately, I’m tired and uninspired.

It’s not like the first time I felt this tired but ugh, the semester has barely started and I’m feeling this shitty already. Sure, I lived a hell of a life back in high school given the pressure to maintain/improve my academic standing, commitment to the team, commitment to someone, and stress from my family, but this is a different case.

Look at it this way (stop reading, you’d hate my geekiness. Lol. I’m doing this in the most simple way possible. That is because my sister told me I’m such a failure for a debater in the fact that debaters should be able to explain things to a grade one kid. But the fact that (according to her, and I somehow concede) I speak around 300 words per minute and the fact that the words I use aren’t understandable by an average reasonable person…HAHAHA):

Assume that all the stress I’m going through is part of the cost. (Part of. Of course, there are still many other factors HAHA). And then assume that the revenue’s what I get in return.

Assume again that the cost of what I’m doing now is the same as before. Meaning, I was just as (well, actually, I was more) stressed before as I am now. However, cost = same; output = lower. As of now, profit = negative. As for the long run, let’s just hope I’d get more in return.

What worsens the situation is the fact that I feel like avoiding everyone, scared of the truth that they have no time to listen to my repeating rants. Hahaha. You can’t expect someone to still be that amazing friend you thought s/he was. Because 1) people change and 2) s/he’s supposed to not care about everything.

Despite all the frustrations, I’m still extremely thankful for those understanding souls. Those extremely nice people you can’t thank enough and you’d have to apologize to for having such wrong judgments. You guys are so amazing for thinking I could actually survive the mess I’m in. =))

By now, you probably just got that I’m such a worry rat and still oblivious to the many fucked up facets of my life that I have to fix. So, if you’re going to message me after this post asking, “Were you referring to me?”, “Were you referring to ________?”, or whatever variation you could think of asking who it/they was/were, don’t. I don’t give a damn if facebook told you I’ve seen your message.