here I go again

en route to Penang.

I'm thinking that maybe, at least, for a moment, I'm letting this slip out of my mind: I should just stay away from my dreams for awhile. not that I declare it as something I already gave up from, knowing this is just the aftermath I've reluctantly wished for putting myself in this balderdash, unless it is something I can wait -- for it to happen the way I want it to be -- I must confess the dumbest way it might just turn out wrong. even worse, my actions are agreeing to how patently absurd it is to say I can be all the things I said in my late night prayers. "when was the last time you went off to meditate on the guilty you had inside?" my mind asking me as if I am a saint who doesn't need her temple around in any form but I just can't stop playing Lana Del Ray's in my head.

God -- should I laugh at this temptation to get these shady feelings cobwebbed in the small box under my bed?

I went to settle some documents this morning. then I attended the English class at 1630 with this look -- how could I describe and complain about the “things” I see on my face, though? perhaps, one can tell it by looking at my half-open-half-panda eyes. let there be mercy: I won't show it here. at last, everything went well despite some errors here and there. yep, my papers. and I had to pretend that I was all right without my parents to scold me. although, there were times I silently prayed they were really here whenever I was in doubt. growing up, that confuses me most. I could not even depend on myself now when no familiar adults are around, well, that makes me worry too -- although I am not going to let them baby myself for something like this.

I don't think I have issues with asking questions or sitting in the front row.

maybe, I'm just afraid to parent myself.