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[C'EST MOI]
living paradox. individualist with anarchistic tendencies.
eludes eminence but appreciates subtle recognition.
capricious yet dependable. clandestine and unfathomable.
cynical realist who succumbs to the occasional idealism.

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    Wednesday, April 06, 2005

    Brain Fag

    I'm weary and tired. My eyelids and limbs seem to weigh much more than before. I feel like a living lump.

    The battle has worn me down. Much to my disappointment, the boys in the library are driving my sanity to the cliff's edge with their incessant talking and laughter. I really do think they're behaving like young boys who lack the basic courtesy and consideration for the people around them. And for goodness sake, it's the library, not a coffeeshop for them to chit-chat talk cock. Exasperation is not at all helpful to a flagging concentration when I am trying to study a hell-lot of mechanisms that still faze me even after hours upon hours of trying to figure them out.

    I am losing it.

    The cold night and my fatigue is sending my subconscious reeling. Just as I was outside my room feeling the cold breeze, memories just came flooding back. Memories of nights like these. Memories of....

    Some things should be left in the subconscious and maybe this is one of them. To keep, to hide, to never bring out again. For the broken remnants and the desolation are not easy to bear. Again.

    [Time of Confession] 11:42 PM
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