Synthetic depression

Well, I've got to update my blog once in a while. I mean, I could go on and complain about being very, very depressed and yet nothing good would happen simply because I'm not doing anything about it. Or, maybe I'm suffering from synthetic depression - that thing, you know, when the dark skies come in patches but doesn't affect you anywhere else.

At the back of my head, though, something's telling me that I shouldn't be blogging, simply because I should be instead working on, say, my English 3 presentation (surprisingly, my midterm grade's a 96) or my eight-question-long Religion 2 long test. I'm still bound by DLSU territory, thanks to two meetings, both for the LA Core, and this all means I'll be looking for the bus at an ungodly time of six o'clock. (Simply because, obviously, it's hard to find a bus, even ones with only standing room, at that time, much more thirty minutes later. Oh, please pray for me even if you haven't read this yet.)

Everything else points nowhere, though. Nothing interesting's been happening during the past two days, and thanks to a string of events - both traumatic or afective - during the past week, I'm still suffering from synthetic depression. During breaks, if not for music, I would find myself dropping dead in the middle of the road. (Of course I didn't mean that literally. How do you think would I write this entry without freaking out people seeing a keyboard that types by itself?) I talk with people and it seems nothing much happens out of it.

And, my thoughts have become crazier than before. How would I, for example, make up a story between me and Sars chasing Steph along? (And, if you dig deeper, you'd understand why we call each other gay lovers. Okay, so I'm not trying hard to be close?) I've been entertaining thoughts both in technicolor or much bleaker - something like the reason why telephatic communication (yes, Sars-related again) doesn't work since I put my two fingers together at 05.45, the moment when she's still asleep. (According to her she woke up at 06.00 today - and that was already early. No wonder we don't match outfits as often. Right now I'm in red and she's in green - merry Christmas, everybody! - yet Ale and Huey are in green, and she found that out.) I've had this inclination to "freak out" Piyar (if I still have the spelling right?) every time I come across her. Even weirder, that's just the tip of the iceberg - my mindset's still on that vanished entry last Sunday, and everything else has gone forgotten as well.

Forgotten, possible like ideas of destiny taking me nowhere, throwing me around - and again, I'm not making sense. Again, everything goes to synthetic depression.

Aside from those moments when different ideas converge and make something then unimaginable out of it, the past two days have been happy. I'd love to think it's stress coming in - making another Morgan Spurlock out of me, guinea pig to silent, unobvious sleep deprivation - but when it finally kicks in, there's nothing explaining it. Or, it could be the sleep deprivation itself making my mind happily unclear, but I'm stressed enough to think of that ridiculous idea.

If anybody's not getting me, I apologize, for this is my first attempt to make a really sensible entry after losing that entry last Sunday. Maybe I'll plug this to a few people when I get in the meeting, maybe hug Meg after getting over (actually) kissing Isah out of hyperactivity, or maybe try my best to relate in a world full of hatred and bitterness.

Then again, what Clarence was told comes into mind, echoing like the word cake on one of those cartoons.

And your responses...

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