Be wary of building your life around someone, because it all crashes down when they leave.

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You are so filled with desire it makes my heart sink. What will I do when it all goes away? If desire builds the castle, commitment and empathy cements its longevity.

What’ll I do without you around,
my words wont pun, my pennies won’t pound,
oh and my frisbee flies to the ground,
what’ll I do without you.

What’ll I say without you to talk to,
no one to serve or volley the ball to,
you write the words but I miss the volume,
what’ll I say without you.

Oh I don’t know what to do with myself
now that I’m here and you’re gone.

What’ll I do when you’ve gone away,
my ball wont pin, my records won’t play
and all of my hours limp into days,
what’ll I do without you.

What’ll I do now that you’re gone,
my boat won’t row, my bus doesn’t come,
I have the fingers, you’ve got the thumb,
what’ll I do without you.

Oh I don’t know what to do with myself
now that I’m here and you’re gone.

Had a nightmare.

So you were assigned 3 Gandhi, by some twist of fate. 

The first day at school, and everyone is strangely dressed in shorts, like in primary school. The whole scene resembles the my primary school, with the concourse, and my classroom on the first level overlooking the football field. We come in and introduce ourselves to the class. They seem apprehensive, and look a little lost. This seems good; at least they seem vulnerable and open.

So I leave, having them in your good hands. By some twist of fate, I am called back to class by a message. “Come quickly,” it says. I return, and I see you and Iz in a tiff, and somehow, like a primary school first-day scene, her mother is at the back, yelling at you. You leave in a huff, and the bell rings for recess. I turn to the mother and ask her what’s wrong. She says that you replied to her, “You Malay.” I have no idea what the context is, but when the bell rings and the class returns, you do not return. So I am left with the class.

I return to the staff room to look for you, but you can’t be found. I leave after my lessons, and I see you in my bedroom. Only that the bedroom looks strange, the king-sized bed takes up most of the room. It resembles my parents’ bedroom from a time. You are sprawled there, staring at the ceiling, the way I do when I am thinking. We seem lost, like a scene between Jo and I.

And there it ends.

19 Things That Aren’t Worth Your Time

How apt

Thought Catalog

1. Comparing yourself to other people’s bodies in bathing suits this summer. It’s all about how you feel in your own skin, and staring at other people’s flat stomachs or dimpled thighs is only going to make you feel like more of a crappy, shallow person.

2. Listening to one friend talk shit about another friend, especially when you absolutely don’t agree with what is being said. You don’t owe anyone your complicity in their gossip.

3. Thinking about what other people are going to be wearing for an event when you already know what you want to wear and are only concerned that you might not look as cool as everyone else. (Spoiler alert: You’ll never look as cool as everyone else.)

4. Watching reality shows where the entire purpose is having women degrade each other for public spectacle.

5. Obsessing over how much something costs when you know…

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The concept of an island conjures up ideas of isolation, loneliness, and the rhythm of the sea lapping on the land; in both Forster’s and Orwell’s novels the Club functions as a habitat where the Anglo-Indian community gathers in isolation, apart from the rhythm of India or Burma which ebbs and flows around it. “Islandness,” as John Gillis and David Lowenthal (2007: iii) remind us, “is no longer associated only with waterbound places”. According to Stephen Royle (2001: 11), the “Two factors that make islands special are isolation and boundedness”…

-Ralph Crane, Reading the Club as Colonial Island in E.M. Forster’s A Passage to India and George Orwell’s Burmese Days

I’m not sure why the wakefulness is so nagging. Don’t think I’ve felt this way since you left. Ironically, the break-up simply made me want to sleep to escape, and yet, this relationship gives me more anxiety than anything else, because now, I really owe it to you to get my shit together.