At least the insanity of yesterday's entry has passed. Paladin smells faintly malodorous today. It is either that or I have a stuffed nose. Hooray.

What a sense of the absurd. Heheh. But yes, I think I may have said something to that effect to the poor man because right now, out of the two people who are awake in their rooms along the corridor, he's taking a shower. No, I am no peeping tom; the pipes in this place are so old they screech in protest every time someone living along my corridor decides to take a shower. And I know no one else is awake because I just returned from the cafe and the whole corridor is dark except both our rooms.

So yes. I reiterate my point about the sense of the absurd. I am feeling somewhat mischievous right now. A faintly naughty, cheeky smile sits happily on my face, like Audrey Tatou's in that Amelie poster.

And BF tells me that the correct term (in yesterday's entry) is "Holy Cow", but is only cool if I lived in the 70s. Teehee.

But my mood changes rapidly again. Cycling through all the available moods I suppose. Maybe I need to reset my biological snooze clock.

But we all know the reason why my mood is bordering on despair, don't we? The familiar litany of hopelessness and suicice echoes in my head right now, right along with someone giggling rather insanely.

My moods are always severe and one mood may seem lithic and rooted, ostensibly on the surface. But remove the incentive to maintain an appearance and everything deliquesces into quicksilver. In this case, remove a company of gamers and add solitude to a cold and empty room and you have a sad little girl battling her own inner demons.

I hate this time of the year. Why else create an online journal last year, almost a year to this day? Why else cry copious tears? August has never been my most favoured period of the year. And what comes after Anguish August is Sullen September.

So many tears. I would weep the moon down if I could and flood the arteries of my body with false pain. At least it reminds me I am still alive and still here, and still fighting.

Maintaining a stoic facade. I am not shedding tears. But my heart pains as if I were. Sometimes it is so exhausting holding on fast. A maelstrom of emotions that has no centre, at least not one I can find.

At least I am still in control. At least. And I know when I am in such a mood, I write my best. This is essential as one of my cornerstones is the need to finish my assignments.

Right now.

Speak to me little one. And sing to me of stability and roots. Hold fast. Hold strong. I am not alone. But it is so hard to hold to that.

Oh Delphic oracle of my soul. Delusions are better than no dreams at all.