It seems surreal.
i’m back, and i’m unhappy.
everyone’s telling me it’ll all work out in the end.. i don’t really know what to feel.
they’re telling me to enjoy my long-ass holiday, to graduate, then find a way out from there.
but what if i never want to go on a holiday, because it means time is drawing to a close?
i know it seems childish, but part of me feels like it isn’t fair.
how rules before my semester were set A, and i fell into set B, and when i graduate, they change the rules to set A and it doesn’t apply to me.
i’m feeling so bitter about it all, and i know the next time i’m back, it’s for a different purpose, the feeling will be different. sure, it’ll be familiar, but it’ll be so nauseating. just thinking about it makes me want to break down.
i felt nauseous at the airport today, suffocated. sure, it didn’t help that i had to drag luggage as heavy as me around for a bit (i kid, it was probably 10kg less). i was deep in thought, struggling. so many scenarios.
what if i miss my bus? what if i miss my flight? should i burn my passport and seek asylum (inside joke)? i just wanted to run into the washroom and scream but no….. i dragged my stuff with me, had a really disgusting hungry jacks meal (this is why i hate bread/burgers..)
the past few flights were alright, because i didn’t feel like i was forced to return. it’s not that i hate this place, i just, don’t want to be a part of the craziness that goes on here. i want to strike it out, elsewhere. i know i’m hurting my parents when i don’t want to move back. and they’ve been nothing but supportive..
to top it off, my luggage is a mess. half of it is downstairs, the other half, unpack, strewn all over my room. my room looks like a joke. urg. nothing feels right. my room feels like a storage area, everything either in zip log bags, boxes, or those weird things that cover your clothes, preventing it from getting dusty.
i don’t have the strength to unpack right now, everything’s just throwing me off guard. everything’s so… unfamiliar. sure, i know where my shoes are kept, but it feels wrong. the tiles on the floor.. they’re cool, but.. different. what use do i have for my mega-awesome pink bath robe now? what about my rainbow toe socks?
so so so confused.. i want to clean my bathroom, i want to look at my walls adorned with photos, cars, brands, letters, bible verses… i don’t care if my room is twice as large… it’s.. empty. there’s no.. ‘Me’ in it..
i don’t even want to like this place. call me childish, i know i’m making it difficult for myself to be happy.. urg. messed up i don’t even know what i’m thinking anymore.
i need to leave.