Have you ever been told to go back to your hole, in a very frank manner? It's quite heartbreaking, and it makes me very alone, just to hear more than one person telling me that.

Yet they still find it perfectly fine to ask me how I'm feeling and whether I'm OK. "Yes, I am fine." "Better than ever." "Of course I feel fine." It's true. I am feeling fine. My physical status is fine. My mental, though, is a different story.

I've never been put in isolation before. According to The Dictionary, isolation is the state of seperation between persons or a group. I have been seperated from friends or family because it was necessary, like for school or for holidays. But never, have I ever been seperated from the community of a group of people who I see and live with more than I see my parents in a year.


Since last night, I've been put into this rather spacious (compared to my room in the garden area) room, secluded from the rest of the boarding house. I've made the bed. There's a radio. I've brought my guitar. And my camera. And my iPod. And (most importantly) my Frank. I've basically got most of the things that will help make my stay a little more pleasant. There's a bathroom here, which is a little daggy but I can live with it. The food they bring to me, and the way they bring it to me - it's like the last meal I will ever have. A window above my head - to give me the fresh air I need. It can get very stuffy in this room. The window has bars. Jail like bars, that give me the feeling of being trapped in prison for something I hadn't done.


I am slowly dying of fatigue. Just sitting here. Lying here. Hours on end. I weep a little everytime I see someone who has come to visit me. I weep even more when they tell me it's heartbreaking to see my face - a face of loneliness.

I feel as if I haven't spoken to anyone for years. Actually, it feels as if I haven't spoken at all for years. Not even to myself. Or Sam, my bear. My mouth is getting all weird and sour-ish from this silence. It's weird. I've been craving chewing gum since this morning. I haven't got any at all, yet. My mouth needs something to do. I've got to occupy it. *puts plastic spoon into mouth* ... Better :)


However, I'm still very thankful that my mum had moved her flight from KL to Sydney, back one day short, to save me from this misery. Tomorrow morning, I will be able to literally breathe fresh air. Oh what a sweet fantasy that is to me, right now.

death would be an awfully big adventure
Cheers.