Hello, hello. It seems a little weird for miss raf to stop blogging for a while, considering, she blogs sometimes up to 3-4 times a day, sometimes. I'm back at it due to humble requests.

Now why did I stop?

Ahem, I'm trying so hard to keep and upbeat tone, not a monotonous one. I'm so tired already.

Because things aren't going too well here. To blog is to reveal my vulnerable side, and no one will have the chance to see that. I tend to type fucking shit about how things are, and unconsiously sending awful vibes. I am brutally alone. I cry alone, I ache alone, I feel alone- that is all I can tell you. I put up some happy fucked up face, and I think the horrible clown make up is starting to wear out. I find it harder to control my face and expression these days. I would be caught staring into space, knocking over things, probably tearing in the train. Shit like that.

Fucking shit like that.

I've been worse off than this. Just some time. More time to dechiper all this. Accept my ill fate. Accept it, or die denying and trying to make it work.

It is so dark here. The ringing silence. The bed, the monotonous walls, the scattered bits of paper on the floor.

I find myself spending most of my time lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. doing nothing, thinking, thinking, contemplating. The idea of drawing seems revolting. I suddenly feel like giving up on doing art altogether. What is the point, when all I come up with is just shit? It takes me ages to even finish a potrait, my shading sucks, and forget about painting-I SUCK at it. Writing suddenly seems stressful because I cannot come up with anything good. Just bad bad horrendous writing.

I am useless.

I accept the fact wholeheartedly.

I'm not even good at crying.

I'm even taking 5 minutes to come up with a new sentence in this post. I'm just...speechless, commentless, hopeless. My head is on the bed, ears pressed on the notebook speaker thinking of nothing. Looking at someone's display picture and nickname, afraid to start a conversation. He would never dream of talking to me. I'm just some stupid traditional girl.

That aside, IDEAS and OC piling up and I haven't conjured the energy to do it. It's like doing everything(the whole project, esp OC) all fucking alone.

Why do I always have to be proficient in english? And a perfectionist when it comes to projects? the so-called 'smart one' when in actual fact, morbidly stupid.

OBESE! OBESE!
My mind is everywhere right now. Food tastes like shit. I hate food. Many other people in poor countries need food more than I do. I don't need food.

BLAH BLAH BLAH!

Updatedkthxbye.