In short, I am a brooder. I brood over everything. I amaze myself at how much I can brood, even over things are obviously trivial. Like how I consciously feel I am brooding over the many "I"s I used in such few sentence cos I don't like to keep repeating words. And now I am brooding over how much of a failure I am because I am not sure if "I" is considered a word or not, and gawd this is someone who just declared herself a lit major? And this just brought back past brooding topics about how lousy my English standard is, and how desperately low my cap score is, and how come I kept whining but not do anything about it (it's the lethargy caused by the fats- and now I'm multi tasking and brooding over how fat I've become which my mom doesn't help by narrating my childhood biography- "you've got your dad's legs! skinny poles! now leh? looks more like a tree trunk!") ...

But anyway, this entire week has been brooding on overdrive. Currently the condition is critical, bordering on danger-to-self-and-environment. Because if I don't hurt myself by stuffing like a christmas turkey, I am going to hurt others. Lash out at them with a brooding attack. Strings and strings of grouses that trumps the christmas lights at orchard road this year. Few more years of practice and I can take over oscar the grouch. On work, on pieces, on stress, on theory, on exams, on my non existent social life, on money, on teaching, on parents!!!!!!!! ARGH, on communication, on modules, on coping, on my future, on friends, on parents, on my dad, on religion, on my mom, on my brother, on my brother's career, on his future, on his relationship with my parents, on his hypocrisy, on his marriage, on his taunts, on his taunts but the truth, on brooding, on health, on weight, on appearance, on late nights, on withdrawal symptoms, on mild autism, on german, on german 2, on my screwy phone, on wanting to read but can't seem to muster enough energy to pick up a book, on majors, on career...

Seems like I'm chiefly upset over my future or the lack of. And my brother's. (???)

So I find myself caught in a perpetually foul mood not unlike Hagrid's blast ended skrewts. Okay not exactly caught, more of engineered since yes I brought it upon myself. I guess it's not more of being unhappy, but losing the will to be happy. Or not finding things to be happy about. My mom reckons it's some hormonal thing. Yeah I'm definitely an adolescent. Behaving like some 15 year old attitudy bitch with issues. How very tragic. And one when wills herself to be a grouch, she only see the whites in a sunny side up. But on a defensive note, it's true that with that sort of perception, it's harder to extricate from the emotional muck before tackling the psychological one than to complete an ironman on legs. Like a hamster tied to an exercise wheel. (And speaking of hamsters, I'm starting to hate them. Annoying, twitchy little squeakers ferreting around trying to be cute and mousy.) And like the hamster, I'll continue cycling and whining but still, end up getting fat. Have anyone realised how there simply isn't a skinny hamster around? 

Anyway because I don't feel like continuing anymore, I shall end off my current state of problems with a metaphor- an omelette. Ingredients all over mashed up together in a gooey state of yellows and whites, dashes of pepper everywhere, and a sneeze or two (if it's outside food) that feeds africa to obesity. And now I'm nibbling off the ends bite by bite. Though I still can't see the end of the omelette, it's a start.