Spiralling

I've been meaning to post up pics of food.
Write a happy post maybe.
Lots of thoughts in my mind.
And yet, words can't do it justice.
I don't deny my mind is complicated.
Sometimes, I wish I don't know stuffs.
Ignorant is bliss.
Really it is.
Maybe it's easier going through life if you don't care.
And don't think so much.

Nobody really understands what I think. Or feel.
I doubt Eric even knows how to deal with me sometimes.
I know I drive him crazy with all my emo talks.
At 4am.
The wave of emotions seems to grip me hard after dark.
I spent so many hours lying awake and just couldn't make sense of what I want.
Or how to move on.
What to look forward to.
What am I doing here? On Earth?
What is my fucking purpose?
I want an answer now.
Because I'm driving myself crazy.
I'm sure Eric thinks I'm nuts too.
Nobody knows the depth and darkness that consumes my mind endlessly.
I hate it when Eric tells me not to think so much.
I can't bloody help it.
I want to stop thinking...but I can't.
I wish someone will make all my problems and worries go away like a puff of smoke.
I want answers.
Which only the future can give me.
And I'm so not a patient person.

I don't understand a lot of things.
All I want is to be with Eric but so many things are not helping.
I don't get it, why me?
I know that life is not fucking easy, but it shouldn't drive me nuts.
What are my options?

Option 1 : I can stay with Eric, but not work.
Option 2 : Get work and stay with Eric.
Option 3 : Get work and not stay with Eric.
Option 4 : Strike the lottery and nobody has to fucking work.

What pisses me off is when a galfriend of mine commented..."Did you try hard enough to get a job? I mean really really try"?
What the fuck she thinks I'm doing?
Don't bloody comment on something you don't know about.
You're not in it so you don't know how it is.
Sit on your bloody high chair and fucking say I'm useless for not able to get a job in Macau.
Yeah, if you're so fucking fabulous why are you still hunting around for a guy that wants to be with you?
I'm mighty pissed.
Nothing is going fine.
No one can understand even if I spend years explaining it to them.
The way I see things is so different.
I read too much into what people say.
Because I know what they're implying.
I may act dumb sometimes and that is just to not fucking spit in their face.
So don't mess with me.
Because if I really wanted to, you won't win.

How is it when people makes stupid comments but thinks they're so fucking smart?
Geez...get a brain.
Things people say are getting to me.
Booksmart vs streetsmart.
Yeah...be streetsmart.
We booksmart people would prob end up living under a bridge and eat leftover food from the dumpster.
Don't fucking send your kids to school next time.
Send them to the street.
That's where the "street" in streetsmart comes from.
If you even know how to read.
We booksmart people can just go hug a tree and our books.

I'm vibrating negativity.
I can't help it.
Don't tell me what I should or should not do.
I can make that decision myself.
Hate being controlled.
Hate being in a cage.
I'm being forced to do something which I don't want to do.
I didn't make that freaking choice.
And there's no other way.
I wish there was.
I'm waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel.
I don't know where it is.
Maybe God decided I don't deserve it.
Maybe I'm destined to go through life with potholes and thorns.
Am I the only one bitter?
The only times I can really be myself is when I'm with Eric.
Because he won't judge me even when I tell him my stupid thoughts.
He will still love me.
Even when I screw up.
He is my rock.
Which I'm clinging on for dear life.

My friends thinks I'm such a confident person.
I can be.
But they don't know about the time when my mind spiral into the dark abyss.
I rarely show that side of me.
Only one other person could come close to knowing me better than Eric does.
And this person is busy living a life.

Friends...how many friends do I actually have?
Unfortunately, the number is pathetic.
Out of those, how many knows me?
Out of those, how many will rescue me?
None.

Don't think you know me.
Because no one will ever truly know the real me.
Maybe it's better this way.
An illusion paints a prettier picture of me.