Hermes

It's really getting to me this time. The increasing competition just makes me want to slap it in the face and say shut up, leave me alone. It's been all the small things added up together. Gradually. Slowly. Like it wants to creep up on me and surprise me. Great surprise.
The problem is that even though I feel burned out, up and down, I still have to keep on that game face or else people start to question. They think I'm depressed but I'm not. I'm frustrated, that's what. I'm at that tipping point where I just want to bake a thousand batches of cookies and fling them out of my window where they will land on the hot road and a car will run through them, crushing each and every one of them.
Give me a second here and maybe I'll let you experience how it feels to be judged; to be pounded and molded into someone I refuse to be.
Competition says, "Hi, just shut up and listen. This is your plan. Follow it."
I ignorantly reply, "Yay, okay! My life is set like a rock set in stone."
I wish I could smash the rock and the stone and punch competition in the face.
The polite and cheery :) letters that I keep receiving are disguised as messengers of rejection but I suppose they believe that I'm stupid enough to think their artificial phrases filled with plastic wishes of success would fool me. A few months ago it would have but I'm not stupid anymore because it's been a bit too much for me to have missed the point. Go on, reject me, I readily welcome you into my world because once you're in, you'll never come out. Slap me, I'll slap you back. But the sad thing is, you are indifferent. You go on and infect my soul like a virus, bursting each and every one of my cells.
Just die and shut up, please.

Cookies

I have a special craving for cookies that started developing and maturing itself as the stress level increased this year. This craving is quite special because cookies have a certain significance to my life. They are the givers of joy, of happiness, of wholeness, sweet pleasure. Those imperfectly round slices of dough dotted with melting chocolates chips is the only thing that is able to make me disregard the fat gain that comes along with it in its nice little packages. As I bite into the chewy, crunchy center, I'm swept away from all the problems that await me on my desk. Total bliss.
I am constantly defeated by the power of these cookies. These seductive deserts are like vices that become addictions as you become helpless in other areas of life (school). They are able to numb me from the harsh realities that I must confront everyday, and they truly help pull me through hard times. This is why when I'm sad, I eat a cookie and life's good. I guess I could term it my best friend now because we pretty much live off of each other. They get the honor of being eaten while I obtain the privilege to eat it. It's a mutual thing.
When I received a bag of homemade cookies today, it was like a whole batch of happy pills. And that in itself, just looking at it, made me ecstatic. The possibilities were infinite and promising. I will be able to get through the school year just fine. Maybe I will have to use a bit more effort to put on those jeans but it will all be worth it in the end.

Michael Buble

It's really quite rare to find someone with a great voice these days. Michael Buble has one of the best voices; it's rich, well controlled and he's able to adapt to the nuances of all the classics that he sings.
To really appreciate good music buy his new album "Call Me Irresponsible".

It's phenomenal.

Pandora

Pandora.com is officially blocking access from any international countries due to license problems. They don't have the expenses to buy international licenses from all the countries in the world. They don't even have enough money to support their own little company in the States. It was terrible when I received that polite letter personally apologizing for having to block my access to Pandora. I felt torn. It was like breaking up with a boyfriend due to long distance relationship complications.
Pandora was the perfect boyfriend. It was good-looking, entertaining, and intelligent. I listened to it everyday. It knew exactly what songs I loved and hated. It never tired to search for songs that I would like. It was so caring, I should have told it I loved it earlier. Today is my last day to be with it and from then on I will be forever separated from my lover. It's tragic.
Pandora, I love you.

Hyponatremia

The sun was glaring down at me but it was starting to get too hot, too bright. I painfully inched my way along the steaming hard tar road. I would have liked to collapse on all fours and crawl, but I was in the Boston Marathon. People passed me. They were suffering such a personal torture that only they could define. Their foreheads were glistening with stars of sweat as they slowly drained their energy. Left, right, left, right. It would never end. The watering stop came into view and the white table was lined with beautiful white plastic cups. It was too white, too pure to be true. I drank one. Then another. Then another. Then another.
I scrunched up my face and continued shuffling my feet towards the hellish sun. People littered the sides of the path and the finish line was floating before the horizon. I was almost there, just a few shadows away. I could feel the energy draining out of me like air wheezing out of a balloon. And then the last wisp of air was extinguished like a sigh. Too quiet, too soon. I collapsed like a stranded doll on the sidewalk. It was too much sun, too much water. Too much pressure.
The sun was so far away and I didn't know how to run a marathon. I had much to learn, but I couldn't anymore because the water killed me.
A miracle had to happen: my resurrection.