Autumn/Winter

Started writing a diary by pen again because, well, some things are truly private. It’s much easier to type though. Which is why I’m writing here again. My hand feels like cramping after half an hour of non-stop writing/sketching.

It’s autumn (well, winter officially started according to Chinese calendar), and I’m reading Autumn by Ali Smith. Ha. It’s a lovely book but somehow I got sidetracked by a Japanese book on travel by a semi-famous female author. There’s an entry about being dazzled by the artificiality about Hong Kong that’s almost moving to read.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever feel that great burst of energy flooding through me again – that perpetual high which carried me through most of my previous life as a somewhat carefree person. Always tired nowadays, even without excess exertion. Sleep quality: terrible. Waking up every 3 hours and plagued by dreams that drain the life out of me – it’s almost as if I have to use my brain to solve problems during the dream-state itself.

Music therapy going somewhat better than expected, i.e., not terribly. Perhaps developing a tiny but manageable crush on the therapist is a necessary part of healing?! Not that it’s affected sleep quality any. God I’m so tired, and so tired of the act of sleeping. I think the last time I had a really good sleep was 10 years ago.

Dreading trip with parents. Even though it’s only for a few days, I can foresee diva strops and tantrums from both of them if weather isn’t perfect, if food isn’t perfect, if the mattress isn’t perfect, if I’m not on perfect behaviour etc.

Been thinking…once upon a time the world was full of exciting boundaries, and the possibility of interesting transgressions. Nowadays everything is a greyish blur. Walls have fallen, but gone too are the safety nets and the emergency valves. If I could go back in time, I would’ve salvaged a different thing from the rubble of 2008 this time round. I wouldn’t have picked books and love of writing as the things I need to save from the pile. I would’ve saved my sense of shame.

Sigh. Sometimes one must keep things vague and pad it up with beautiful language because the specifics are rather hard to bear. I never meant to be cryptic, but nor do I want to expose the worst of myself to the worst of others.

Finally, the words of the day are: atonement. redemption. annihilation. 

And now, officially, I’m off to bed.

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