I'm a sucker for a lot of things - rainbows, walking weather, gifts on no particular occassion, the perfect bouquet of colourful tulips, taking artistic photos, collecting funny postcards, staying up on a hot night to look at old diary entries, being seranaded... I'm a romantic, and I apologise for being such a sop.

At the moment I am trying to get over a headache that came around about a month ago and hasn't left since. It comes and goes, fades in and out - but it's always there, like a splinter lodged between the left and right hemisphere. Today it came back after the sixth hour of staring at the computer screen. *sigh* The Headache likes to feed on my best ideas, most creative thoughts and has officially sucked the life out of me.

Over the week I have realised that I am such an idiot because I always end up taking stupid risks without thinking much about the consequences. This is part of my personality that makes me either inspiring or vulnerable... but rarely both at the same time. The primary feeling that I encounter more often is stupid vulnerability. And I hate it... because it's humiliating and makes me want to puke.

Like tonight my Mum asked me what the g-o is with the man (or men) in my life. And all I could say was, "I dunno." And it wasn't the teenage-angst get-away-from-me-i-don't-wanna-disclose-embarrasing-details-to-you-coz-you're-my-mum type of "I dunno" - it was the real answer to a very real question: because I JUST DON'T KNOW what the hell is going on. I wish I did have an answer for her, because she hardly ever asks about anything going on in my life - she's always asking about my sisters... so tonight was a rare moment and I'm kind of annoyed because I wanted to know the answer just as much (if not more) than she did.

And there it is: my need to know the answer. It gets in me in so much trouble.

"Love is patient." *sigh* For someone who has read so many books on the topic, I'm absolutely pathetic at practicing the first virtue concerning love. Patience. Yeeshk.

Pardon me for venting such frustrations. I guess the fear has finally caught up with me. It's been a few months of having my head in the clouds; and now my heart is in the history books.

And that's what freaks me out... what if I can't change? What if I'm destined to be the person that I was six years ago? Because it feels like every time I try to change... it comes creeping back. And no matter how much I lift up the brokenness, the hurts and the frustration to God... the people who I love the most are the people who seem to end up hurting me the most. Why is that? When will this cycle end?

I used to believe that cynicism would save me from the pain when I fell. I was right... but only for a while. Now I just feel like I'm walking on the same type of glass that cut my feet back during year 12. !$)&*#@^!

I just want to get over this and move on.

"Love is patient." Oh Lord... please teach me how to love.