musings of a sick child

i'm very sick...not sick enough to write out a will (as if i have anything to give...u dont get much broke than a grad student living in the city)...but sick enough to make me irritated and nauseated and fed-up.

why is love a bug? like the common cold....u catch it so easily...i know people who go out there looking for love, but i dont think i've come across anyone who was looking for the flu. love as a sickness, an illness, must need a cure, no? and what would that be...heartbreak? but there are all kinds of love...i love her, but not the way i love him, which is not the way i love u. so we dont even know what we're dealing with anymore, except we just know that it's there. it's tangible because we can feel "it"....something....the rosy feelings....

someone once said to me the following:

"i don't want to find someone. does that surprise you?
i don't particularly feel like making the effort..because
i think deep down i know that when and if thats destined
to happen, it'll happen, and it won't be a result of any
perceptable effort, it won't be a result of some cunning
plan. so i don't let it bother me, so much."

and it really wasn't...and i was happy for them because it did happen....some of us make do without planning and some of us...well, we plan....and things turned out ok at first because they went according to plan...but then we found ourselves in something much deeper, something much more than *shall i dare say it* EXPECTED...

i crave for nonchalance

i feel like i'm contaminating everything

i want to find my destined mold and fold into it already

my self-directed therapeutic interventions are making me nervous.