shrieking affliction

on the verge of my patience. my sanity. my rationality. my productivity. my prudence.

time, more often than not, contradicts the reality. not too long ago i realized one thing: time flies. i'll be home in no time. after what seems like forever, it sure was an enlightenment. a relief. a consolation. except that it prolly was a wishful thinking, more or less. i forgot how time, especially near the end, move slower than a snail. sometimes it goes so slow that i thought it's moving backward.

am listening to old records. it doesn't help a single bit, i just figured. one thing, it only makes you want to scream until your throat sore. i wish i could—if it isn't 3am i definitely would. i almost feel that i'm having a nervous breakdown. am in the mood of smashing and throwing things. maybe banging my head would be nice. mess up the whole house. oh yes, sir. destructive? impulsive? doesn't sound like me? well, you're wrong. i just found out that i actually am a minute ago.

instead, though, i did the exact opposite. i cleaned everything up. rearranged my CDs and books. filing past lecture notes. folding my piled-up laundry. took the vacuum cleaner to my room and sucked all the dust on every corner. i practically did everything except the dishes. i blame it on my jitters. the depression has come to my nerves, i suppose.

crap. i totally need a change. my life is simply too boring. too ordinary, indifferent, freakin' predictable. unworthy might be the right word.

god, have mercy on me.