Just for one day, I asked people around me not to tell me not to worry. Just for one day I asked them to stop saying that there’s nothing to be worried about. That everything is going to be alright. Because I am not alright. I am not fine. And for the first time I know I am angry. I am angry.
And if someone told me that I am not screwed enough. Screw them.
My new boyfriend told me that he loves me and I couldn’t reciprocate because I haven’t felt the same way, and it totally freaked me out to hear him saying that. I like the French guy who told me that it will be fun to break me up with my boyfriend and wanted me to come to see him in Canada. I haven’t fucking moved on completely from that Danish-English boy who made me feel like I was the queen of the world. My dissertation is now in jeopardy, and my supervisor wanted me to revise (but it basically more like starting over). And, now I can’t go back to Indonesia because I have new deadline, which is NEXT fuckn WEEK.
I asked my parents to send me cigarettes because I really need that now, but they refused (you don’t say?). I can’t get fuckn drunk because I need my brain to stay sober. I have to unpack my clothes that I just packed yesterday. I have to pay 100 quid as a cancellation penalty, and couldn’t get my money back for today’s bus ticket. I can’t go to see my buddies getting married, two of them. I have to forget the whole list of things I am going to do once I come back to Indonesia (massage, spa, facial, and other fuckn stuffs).
And they said I am not screwed?
Screw you. And screw your universe. And if you’re living in the same universe I am in… welcome to my world.