The black wallflower

Planing a 10-month plan than requires every month to address one of the concerns of students (which are actually difficult to, like, solve) with an activity each week which makes 4 activities in 1 month. They can only happen on one day and possibly last for only two hours AND must be creative, fun, new and fresh as well as enjoyable yet totally capable of being done by a bunch of kids? Piece of cake.

Yeah right.

So yeah, lately I’ve been busy… I’ve gone to plannings, trainings and summer classes and my head feels like it’s under water. I’m a bit stressed out, really, because frankly I really started not to give a shit about the things I’m doing and the only thing I want with them is for them to be DONE.

It’s not even like I wanted this before. No. I didn’t even ask for it - nor did I even give subtle hints that I want it (as I am known to do at times). So, from time to time these past few weeks, I’m just like what the fuck am I doing here? then I remembered about the politics that runs here and how much I’m trapped in all of it.

Things can be such a fucking killjoy to the monotonous pulse of my life.

I wish I could find the right words to tell you how much you mean to me even when I know you’ll never reciprocate them the way I want you to. I guess this is what love is. The joy, the pain, everything. It’s not something you could write down, sing, draw or say (though many try); no - t’was not destined to be explained or even comprehended by mere mortals’ minds. All it’s mysteries cannot be unraveled - nor understood - by man for man is limited and love is infinite. It changes throughout the course of mankind’s history yet seemingly stays the same. Love is multi-faceted yet every facet tells a whole story with which, when combined with the others, paints a much bigger and brighter picture than anyone else would ever imagine. One simply cannot stand for a definitive meaning of love simply because each and every individual is different which in transitive would mean that they define love differently from everyone else but what is amazing is that love is all of that. Whatever you perceive love to be is what love is, or rather, a part of what it is.

We are all love’s blinded slaves. Let’s just make the best of it.