Hang-man Stick Figure (No More)

[Ed: There used to be a picture here, but the random visits regarding it was starting to annoy me and so that picture is now gone.]

At times, this is how I feel, like a dead person trying to make some sense of a pretty complicated life. It's hard to comprehend why so, really, but then again, I try little to comprehend things, considering the fact that at this time, all I'm interested in is to not accidentally shoot myself in the foot.

I'm fearful of the future. I feel that I no longer have any control over the future, and that everything is going to be under the nebulous control of some higher being/corporation/society. I fear for the loss of my individuality—it has already begun. There are so many things that I fear about, and one of the things that most probably affects me the most at this point in time will be the finals itself. Naturally, I need to be sufficiently well-prepared for this final phase of the semester; I just can't help but feel dread as the days pass by and my own finals start to come ever so closer. The mounting pressure is tremendous, and sometimes I wonder with incredulity how I managed to survive trauma after trauma with a strange form of tenacity.

Needless to say, it is really in the depths of the night when I am writing all these. I cannot help but write about what first comes to mind under such a silent and foreboding environment. I still maintain that writing here is akin to shouting down a really deep and dark hole, where sounds are made but no one is certain if anyone has heard any of what was said.

I feel grossly inadequate to be in this society, and to look for the mystical one. I'm more or less resigned to my fate of work, pain, loneliness, and sadness. Is there anything that I can do about it? Maybe, but now's not the time, perhaps. I think I have gotten into more quarrels and arguments over this with Xiaolu than anything else that I ever had.

I'm tired. Tired me is tired. So many things to worry about, so many things to be confused about. Perhaps the concept of living and dying is no longer as well-defined as before. Perhaps my sense of reality has been so badly warped that I am no longer thinking straight. Perhaps, I'm just too weary from the finals beatdown. Perhaps... there are too many perhaps which are occurring in my life, which is something that I am not used to, for I used to be able to plan out my life ahead by at least a few years.

Now, I just live by the minute, always wondering if the minute that just passed was the last that i'd ever have.