Finally, we are at the end of the first week in our winter wonderland - cooking Asian food, endless grocery shopping, bitching about randoms, rolling around in the white blankets of snow and making snowmen in the front yard, both sober and semi-drunk. Honestly, it's felt like a holiday so far and I'm happy to say that I feel like I have actually integrated fairly well, having spent most of our nights getting to know each other while the falling snow covers our tracks. Having said that, when I'm alone, my mind has been wrought with thoughts of my future and the person I am supposed to be. Rolling around in this tiny bed 7000 miles away thinking, why am I always such a mess. The worst cramps as punishment for this month's debauchery. Who even comes up with things like pink vodka anyway? I feel like a psychotic person. Three hundred things to run from and absolutely nowhere to go. The problem with my life is that I never think of the consequences. Not the awkward morning-after consequences because it's always never that awkward but kind of is but not really anyway. What I never consider are the ones that stay with you for like, ever. For example, things that happen in Singapore should just stay there, which is of course impossible because the world is just too fucking small. I can't deal. I just can't. I want to grow and be better but I don't know how or where to start or even where to stop.you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain?
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