I was pretty depressed the entire last week, but now I’m better. Sleeping never worked for me so I quit caffeine, again, and I forced myself to wake up at 6am since Monday. It’s only been two days and I’m getting massive headaches but my vision is starting to clear up. I managed to go downtown to check on my blogger and hang out with some friends yesterday. Today I stayed home working on some of my blogs and played ball a little with Dee in the afternoon. It’s all good.
Then, there was a phone call. My mom picked it up and I remember hearing her gasp, but I was sunk in binaries between tasks on my computer. She later came by my room and told me that my grandpa’s brother just hung himself. I didn’t nearly jump out of my seat, I acted calm, actually, but I really freaked out inside. Suicide, again, here? Damn. I remember back when I used to cut myself trying to face death escape life. I even hung myself once with my belt but it broke after a few seconds. I might’ve been overweight then. I thought suicide was history for me. Back in Pasadena it was part of life. People killed themselves almost every other week. But here, no way man, Asians are a lot more chicken respectful of life. Well the guy was lonely and his kids (my so-called uncles) were wife-abiding-husbands who didn’t care about him too much enough. Poor grandpa. I hope God lets him in heaven. I don’t know.
I don’t know what to feel right now. It’s tempting to let myself sink in depression again, but for what fucking reason? One death isn’t exactly worth my day, or week, or month for that matter (yeah I go into long periods of downs sometimes). Anyway, I hope there’s a baby born somewhere full of life. It’s only life, after all.