It’s 01:41 am in the morning. I haven’t written for a while. I look around my room and recall my friend commenting on this tiny nest while sleeping over one time that, “You really don’t have anything in here.” That’s true. My room barely has anything. I haven’t even unpacked my clothes. I leave them in my red suitcase. That’s my life in one suitcase. On my desk, there are only a few things including my sketchbook, some books, a water of bottle I bought from Poudland.
I don’t own tons of make-up stuff. In fact, I only have one small bag of cosmetics that’s enough for me to look human in the morning. On the floor lies my backpack, a pair of red shoes and that blue tote bag I got from the networking event I went to this evening. On my bed as I’m sitting is my phone, my ring, my laptop, my pillow, my hugging pillow, my blanket, in checked blue, and little Sebastian, and also me. It’s kind of funny that there is someone who would know exactly what I’m talking about because he was the last person here. Or perhaps he did not notice anything at all. Still, I wonder if I was being judged.
At times I feel like I’m not girly enough. I’m too simple in my living style. I suppose it’s just something about this period of my life as a typical broke student. Well, not so typical. I have pretty much been skateboarding through 20 years of my life. I have no problems with my studying. I generally don’t lack money unless I overspend on random stuff, which I do. I think I need some sense of achievement. I don’t know. I just need to let these thoughts out. I can’t really talk to anyone about this. I mean there are people who would listen but they wouldn’t understand. They couldn’t. It’s not their fault. They just couldn’t because they weren’t with me in the beginning to follow up with this reality now. I crave some excitement. I thought I could have it but I guess I overdid it.
It isn’t fun to be involved with a guy who’s more concerned about his penis than you. I’m not looking for a relationship but even some short term fun does require certain terms and conditions to be entertaining. Say like, we get on well and show mutual respect; we flirt heavily harmlessly because we both know that none of it means anything more than humanly genuine affection; we keep things fun and casual; we care for each other but at the same time we don’t really care that much; we say stuff like “You’re mine only” but at the same time we don’t really mean it that way. Well, we mean it but we don’t act upon it. That’d be so ideal. Oh, yeah, of course, he has to be my type.
What’s my type? It has always been a cool headed, unemotional, unpredictable guy who gives me the least attention possible. Cliche much? I’m not saying I would consciously choose this guy as my partner but for some reasons, it just happened too often that I met them and got involved with them one way or the other, which not surprisingly, never ended well. To be fair, they were all attractive and quite different. They never failed to surprise me with their responses and ways of life. Their vibe thrilled me. However, it’s somewhat a thing of yesterday. Today, I’m a puzzle to myself. I need to meet more people to find out what I like and don’t like.
I’m aware that while I’m a human, I’m a woman too. If I have needs, I make shit happen. Surely it’s not always a good thing but I will deal with the consequences that come with my decisions. The only problem is that, suddenly, I don’t know what really matters. I don’t know what’s good for me. I want some instant pleasure. I’m reckless. I’m confused. I’m lost. Shit. This is that something about being twenty. Know right, do wrong. Think too much but all too trivial. I keep going forward because I don’t have any other choice. What’s over there again?