Sunday, October 21, 2012

Homesickness in denial.

truth is, i do miss the house at Pasir Ris. don't get me wrong, i love everyone here at my aunt's place. but i've lived with my parents and brothers all my life.

they do upset me from time to time. but sometimes they make me happy being in their company too.

i've been away for a week now. i only went there to get my uniform before my practical exam on Thursday, and then to change and left again when i got back afterwards. i never talked to anyone of them.

a large part of me believes so that none of them are affected by my absence.

today started off horrible. i woke up to a throbbing headache and it was raining outside. it still is right now, many hours after i woke up. i felt so horrible and i couldn't stop crying.

maybe i'm just homesick.

then again, once that word is mentioned, a part of me asks, is that really a place you would call 'home'?

i hate days like these where i could just sit in a corner and cry for no reason.

when i'm here, i want to go back to Pasir Ris. but when i'm there, all i want is to come back here. when i'm in school, i want so badly to get the hell out of there, but when i'm elsewhere i want to go back to that classroom.

everywhere i go, i always want to go somewhere else, don't i? a little secret. the only place where i've never wanted to be somewhere else, was in his embrace.

it's so stupid how i always suck you in when i'm talking about the home and family issues. maybe cause you were once all of those when i had nobody else.


yes, i am so against the possibility of being homesick.

if you were a Pokemon you'd be a dark-type. or if we're in the Pokemon world and you had a type specialty, then it'd be Dark. an Umbreon fits you just perfectly. o gosh i'm gonna draw that once i'm done with my exams.

that aside... i am done here. i have to return to that place, latest by tonight. see you Pasir Ris people soon.


the Blue is just the flow of the water like a Vaporeon; 
the Red is just the burning of fire like a Flareon. 
the Pink is the playing of the mind like an Espeon;
but you, the Black, are the beauty of the moon like an Umbreon.

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