Defeated.

And so, the favourite (innocent) boy just bore the brunt of another one of my outburst.

I've been having insomnia, been losing an incredible amount of hair, been pondering over some issues. I wonder which comes first, or which is the cause of another.

I am defeated because I have no solution to all of the abovementioned.

Insomnia hits me in waves which lasts for periods ranging from mere days to many weeks. It has been like that for as long as I can remember, way back to kindergarten days where I'd count sheeps and stare at my mum for the entire night as she slept beside me.

I can do nothing but wait for this current wave to be over.

I used to have hair so thick I have to go thin it out once a month or it'll look like a bush. There's hardly anything left now. Lets just say if a strand of hair can be sold for a dollar, I'm literally stepping on gold at home. Or lets just say if you took a look at the floor in my house, and I lied that I'm undergoing chemo, you'll probably take my word for it.

I can do nothing but kick all the fallen strands into the toilet drain and then pretend they're not there.

I wonder if I have done anything truly heinous, and I wonder if I've lost an important friend who matters so much to me. I hope nothing changes. I hope I'm still his friend.

The living nightmare of losing all monetary assets that I have during 3rd and 4th year is drawing nearer and nearer. I am so afraid that the whole family will starve with me, because of my stupid and selfish move to further my studies.

There is not much you can do when you are born into a family where everything falls on you. Really, not much. You're basically just sucked into an interminable vortex of doom. Don't try to bullshit me with doses of fake optimism. I have done the calculations. I know things are not going to work out. With that said, basically I'm just waiting for the ultimate crash of my pitiful bank account.

I am an anti-social creature. I am extremely extremely uncomfortable when placed with a bunch of strangers. Only the cousin understands this because we're basically the same in this aspect. Last semester's timetable pushed me to my limits. It was mental torture. You probably can't imagine the feeling. Just trust me. In my little world, that was pure mental torture.

There is no proper ending for this post. There are probably so many grammatical errors that you'll need 10 hands and feet to count. I probably sound like a whining 2 year old. You probably didn't get me.

I do not give a damn.

No, scratch that.

I do not give a flying fuck.