This has as much to do with my hormones being on the fritz and my sleep schedule being maddeningly erratic as much as it has to do with anything else:

I'm at work, I'm busy, and while I'm trying to chase deadlines:

There is nothing more I would like to do right now than to curl up into a ball and cry myself to sleep. I'm so frustrated, with everything. I'm not sure if this is an irrational frustration or the sudden avalanche of realizations of everything that is wrong in my life. I'm not sure if I'm taking my sweet time to do things or my laziness has completely wiped away all momentum for something I'm not sure I really want. I'm not sure if I'm making excuses or if I'm clueless.

What I am sure of, at this moment, is that I, for the longest time, have not experienced the luxury of being sound asleep, of being transported into a magical story...

Oh, I'm getting sleepy. Too lazy to finish this entry.

I'm worried about some slipup at work and now I can't get some sleep. It's two am in the morning. Is this a sign? Or did I just eat too much sugar? 

I'm killing myself over here. I actually don't want to get back to sleep. I just want to stay awake and process things.

Seeing as I'm never the one to pass up any event with free food in it, I invited a colleague to come with me to a Christmas party a hotel was throwing. As it turns out, we were drafted to take part in a gingerbread house decorating contest. It was loads of fun, but being the competitive people that we were, we couldn't help feeling down and out when we went home as losers.

At least, we got a bottle of wine and a desk calendar. But still, losing sucks. Plus, the consolation and grand prizes were overnight stays at the said hotel. I don't have to think twice about who I want to spend the night with.

We had some pretty good ideas for the house too. Shingled roof, snowman (the paste was too soft), candy cane window panes. It was a messy undertaking. In the end, the gingerbread house that won had more creative roofing (alternating between candy canes and mini m&ms) and had a simple snow-covered edifice that came straight out of winter wonderland. I had to admit, it was simple, but quaint and dreamy. So, they deserve the prize. 

The pang of loserdom is just too much for me to take. But after this entry, I'll get over it. We did have fun though. And, the food is reason enough to go.

My dad's been wanting me to get out of the country since high school. That was almost a decade ago. It feels like being shoved in front of a brick wall and I've got half a mind to actually just drop everything and move so everybody can shut the fuck up and leave me in peace. 

I was reading through the forums of some pinoy expats in singapore but it's not something i've religiously read through like the forums of my dream school.

I guess i'm not interested in it enough.

my dad's offering me to get a house. it's not an offer, it's a suggestion: a house, or a car, or whatever (clearly, with all that we have, I am to start from the ground up and work for things myself. it's not a bad thing in itself, but i can't help but feel the resentment building up somewhere.

it's the way of life. i can't be spoonfed, and of course this will make me stronger. but not my relationship with my family. 

I could be an armchair traveler the rest of my life, immersed in worlds made real by ink on pages. My senses will be drowned in letters and the turning of pages and the way pretty words sound on my lips. My eyes will be opened to another portal that I could not have reached in reality.

I could spend my whole life reading, living a life only on the inside of my head. An entire lifetime floating on the mere mist of my dreams. Is this enough? Is this really living?