The Mental Patient

 

This sporadic blogger loves nothing better than to tell vague stories of her life and all its deeper moments; of pent up feelings, thoughts and darker secrets. Her fondest memories are of schooling life and better times.

She frequently loses herself in her own fastasy world at times, disappointed with reality. Or was it the other way around?

True to her sex, she is as complicated as girls come, and she loves every minute of it. She has mood swings that scare even herself. A faithful believer in "mind over matter", she can be both the angel and devil, depending on what suits her mood best.

Hence, Schizophrenia was born on July 5th 2004. The child of a schizophrenic.

Schizophrenia = a mental disorder whose symptoms include a withdrawal from reality into fantasy. Or this definition works as well. Whatever.

Lastly, just so you know, Pck is hers.


 

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* The author would like to remind everyone of her natural knack for exaggerating, being melodramatic and writing half-truths, as well as her undeniable talent for making things seem like what they aren't. She also hints that time does not play a role in Schizo, where new entries could be based on old times. Therefore, it would be wise for her readers to take everything written with a pinch of salt, lest they should fall victim to her sadistic mind. She would like to conclude, as always, with the saying,

"You think you know... but you have no idea".

 

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Friday, January 29, 2010
Sometimes It's Better This Way

It's not them.

It's us.

Always, always, I wonder, what happened to us, how did it become this way, where did all those awesome times go?

Today I've received my answer.

It's not that the grass seems greener on the other side; it really is. It's not that they've become someone that I've grown to love, but that it's the love between us that has gotten stale.

It's not that we've done it all, but rather that we've stopped trying.

I don't blame anyone in particular. I guess it's something that happened gradually, mutually. And I guess it was something that was bound to happen eventually.

Today, I don't question whether this is the end for us. In a strange way, I don't think there ever will be a definite dead end for us. Our bond may no longer be as strong as it used to be, but it's something that hopefully isn't easily broken either.

Ever hopeful, I await the moment when the old laughter will return, when the times spent together will not just be times spent together.

And until then.. life goes on, I'm afraid.

Posted at 12:00 am by waiee
Doctor's Diagnosis?    

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