So tired of feeling tired

I’m tired.

It’s already nearing the end of the month, and the last blog post I wrote was last October 8th.

It’s not like I’ve been doing anything particularly overwhelming. I’m just perpetually trying to figure out things.

Work-wise: Most of the day I’m either coding/designing for projects for the company or its clients, or trying to figure out how to write the back-end of our team’s request order forms. Which is sort-of an upgrade (a.k.a. more complex version) of what I did for my college org before, back when things were more…manual.

Creative Team: Job Order Form, circa 2008. The email form that gets sent to the Yahoo!Group.

Eh, now though, I have a bunch of code that I know is just simple but I’m just not smart enough to figure out quickly. I mean, I know what the problem is. I just don’t know how to solve it…yet.

Sometimes it feels like the errors are mocking me, right to the face!

Yeah, life would be easier if I were smarter!

Emotionally, I’ve been often tired too. It’s more of a self-induced strain than anything, like a mix of self-blame and hatred and gawd I’m such a social failure. But proved by the screenshot in this post, at least I know some things don’t make me feel like I want to go over a cliff anymore. I honestly have a long way to go though, because as much as I know living shrouded with doubt and distrust and anger isn’t helpful, I find it hard to let go as if I’m stubbornly clinging on to justice.

On my worst days I feel like everyone should know hurt and pain just so they can realize quickly that the world is cruel and unfair filled with vain, selfish people. Much like Frollo’s pep talk to Quasimodo:


The world is cruel
The world is wicked
It’s I alone whom you can trust in this whole city
I am your only friend
I who keep you, teach you, feed you, dress you
I who look upon you without fear
How can I protect you, boy, unless you
Always stay in here
Away in here
Remember what I taught you, Quasimodo
You are deformed

I am deformed

And you are ugly

And I am ugly

And these are crimes

For which the world
Shows little pity
You do not comprehend

You are my one defender

Out there they’ll revile you
As a monster

I am a monster

Out there they will hate

And scorn and jeer

Only a monster

Why invite their calumny
And consternation?
Stay in here
Be faithful to me

If we’re friends, you get the metaphor. Some nights it’s my lullaby, unfortunately. Sounds dramatic, but yeah, extremely emotionally taxing if I do say so myself.

Most days I cope with milk tea, a good 5-8 hours of sleep, and dates with C. But I really just do get tired.


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