Rather - very - frustrated - annoyed - with Personal Property. I attempted to read the finer points of Investors Compensation Scheme v West Bromwich Society and I didn't understand a single word. I don't even know what the hell the issues are, let alone why they matter. I'm really quite frustrated right now and it's abundantly clear that there's no way I'm going to be prepared for tomorrow's class which is may I remind everyone at 9.30 a.m. If it were a bit later I could stay up a bit and get more done; but as it is, I can't, and I have no mood to attempt to digest Greek right now.
Once upon a time, there was someone whom I would've wanted to tell everything to. Every random thought I have, every emotion I feel, the mundane daily events of my life, a sudden surge of inspiration from sitting in intellectually-stimulating classes that opens another door of possibility for me. Getting an A- for an assignment; whining and complaining and bitching about having to slog through another assignment over the weekend; and how difficult it is to get through preparing for one Personal Property Law seminar because there's so much work in so little time, and because I can't focus and I'm slow and inefficient. All the good things and the bad things and everything in between, nothing left out, and that someone would have been my most intuitive choice and I wouldn't have hesitated to say anything to him and to tell him everything.
And it's precisely because of the way I remember how it felt, having a person like that in my life, that I can neither go backward nor move forward. Even if there were to be another 'him' it wouldn't really be the same, and even if I were to appoint a replacement it would still fall short. And even if I did try to appoint a replacement it doesn't mean that I want anything more than what I hold myself out to want, and yet at the same time a part of me can't help but get emotionally attached. And yet, even if that small part does get herself emotionally wrangled in things that don't even exist, it doesn't mean that the appointed replacement goes on to become her intuitive choice - because he doesn't. And he won't.
I suppose it's heartening to note that there was no intuitive choice to unleash my shock and happiness on when I got that A- for my Emergencies short essay. The last A- I got for an assignment (for Equity last semester) the intuitive choice was obvious and unequivocal; but this time round, there was no 'first/only person I want to tell', just whoever happened to be around (pre-requisite being, of course, he/she has to be my friend. And normally it's she because I have trouble getting close to guys in general, so most of my close friends are girls).
But the downside to that upside is this: I was conscious of the fact that I didn't think of the same person I thought of when Equity returned. It then became artificial in that respect; it almost became a reactionary thing, as if I was accomplishing something by forgetting momentarily. But the fact that I remembered forgetting goes to show how much I haven't forgotten, especially the wistful sadness that crept up on me a while later.
Oh well, right? I've pretty much faced things lately with those two words, but sometimes, at times like these, they fall utterly short. And when disappointments are around the corner virtually everywhere you turn, people whom you thought you could count on suddenly turning cold, and you don't even know if you have any locus standi whatsoever to feel disappointed or unhappy, 'oh well' becomes even more inadequate. Assuming it was ever adequate to begin with.
But life does go on, no matter what. I have to constantly keep things in perspective because - and I say this matter-of-factly, without spite or malice or cynicism - no one's departure from your life is capable of stopping time. The only thing left to do is to snap out of your trance and move along with the rest of the world - that's all there is to it.
So perhaps my facing everything lately with 'oh well' rather sweeps things under the carpet; but I'm really rather tired, too tired, of emotionally-draining conversations and discourses and confrontations. I don't even want to have those with myself anymore because after a while I realise that there is really no point. The fact remains as it is, I am still what I am, and, until proven otherwise, things are simply what they are.
I suddenly feel rather melancholic, which is quite an inconvenient time considering I've only read 12 out of 30 of Tehy's slides. And I'm also rather tired now.
I think sometimes I act tough to comfort myself - say mean things, cruel things, laced with acidic insults and degrading phrases. I don't know how much of it I really mean, or if I do mean them but simply don't feel like I do when I'm feeling vulnerable; whatever it is, sometimes it feels more like a means of comfort than anything real, or substantial, or true.
Once upon a time I would have had someone to tell all of this to. But I don't anymore. And if 'once upon a time' still existed, there wouldn't be a need at all to say any of these things, let alone conceive any of these thoughts, feel any of these emotions.
Oh well. Whatever. Nevermind.
And also: Fuck it.