Writing this outside of my college, by its cafeteria. The night air tastes like clarity, I needed it.
I got the position, under the bureau of information and publishing. Which means, we'll be handling the notice and everything that will come out of the organisation. Public info, really. I like it, I think I'll enjoy fixing notice and all. We'll be working on some posters too, but my leader hasn't explained much to me on that part. What I do know is I'll be the main editor and proofreader. Too bad I overslept today, I would've loved to explain more about the process of publishing these notice to my team.
Eating is getting hard again, and I'm sad. I know when I don't eat, I'm back in square one. I'm back to not taking care of myself. Not sleeping? That's normal. Not talking? I can sign. But eating?
I asked my friends to tell me or to scold me when I don't eat. They do, but it's not exactly working. They don't tell me that I'm a burden to them when I don't eat. They don't tell me that I'm ungrateful for the food. And that makes me feel so much worse. It's as if I'm being told that it's alright for me to eat, when I know I don't.
I know I'm being mean to myself, I know I'm being dumb. But I need to be. I don't know why but it's just been the way that I am for such a long time, I can't get rid of it. The thought of the people close to me grieving for me scares me.
And I need to grab my student verification letter (or whatever it's actually called) for my surgery, but I have an ongoing problem of procrastinating on doing that. I don't want to call academics affairs, I'm scared. I was planning to write an email first before mum told me to call them. So I think, I'll write an email to the secretary first, send it tomorrow morning and then call them.
When I die, I'd like to be buried somewhere -- oh, a stray cat just snuggled up to me. She's pregnant. The hill's wind is pretty cold. She's hiding her face in my jacket, purring. I covered her up with my jacket, I think she likes it. She's moved up to my lap. It's actually past curfew but who cares?
As I was saying, when I die, I'd like to be buried somewhere only I know of. A forgotten forest, as my sole tombstone will slowly be covered in moss. As the engraving on it fades from memory, as one day a passerby will see it and wonders what it says. A particular patch of mushrooms growing around my decomposed body, and the soil would seem a bit darker compared to the ones around it.
I think that would be lovely, really.
-- kore xo