Now, I'm going random.

I'm sitting pretty blank. There are no new confusions; no disturbing thoughts playing see-saw in my mind. It's a funny thing, more of an irony I guess. When I sit plain without any confusions without anything disturbing me, without feeling like tearing myself apart; life goes so damn slow and so unhappening and so bloody boring, sort of. And when I do feel like breaking the furniture and blowing up the world I just wanna get out of it; sort it out, take it easy.

It's like I know two ways of existing, and they both are simply not worth living. Right now, at 20, I know and people tell me anyway that I ought to be studying; constructing a future for myself. And when I think about love and romance and having a girlfriend something tells me from inside that I'm desperately trying to construct a temporary relief camp for myself, to simply stop thinking about a future that seems unlikely to be fabulous or anything similar. Even when I'm so convinced that I love this girl and almost everything and anything seems too small a price to pay to bring that smile on her face; when I'm so convinced that I've finally been blessed to have ever got a glimpse of her, to have shared those moments with her, to have made those memories.....Something tells me I could be wrong. That maybe I'm not grown enough to understand what's real and what is surreal. If that is true, surreal isn't all that bad then.

And then, when I wanna tell her that I love her, that it really is not about making her mine or having her close to me throughout. That its just about what changes in me when she smiles; about what I feel when I hear she's down, about how desperate I become to hear her laugh again. About knowing myself that I'd get out of bed at midnight and walk a million miles to bring her a candy. About understanding that she will never be mine; that nothing I do will suffice and still being able to do all that. I don't call it sacrifice anymore. And I've not decided about calling it love yet.