My "cave"

On some days when I'm feeling really crappy or down at the pits (like yesterday), I just feel like shutting myself out from the rest of world and escape into my private haven. Yes, I even shut out my boyfriend. Perhaps it's an "injured tiger's" instinct. Not that I fancy myself a tiger (maybe more like a tigress, since I am quite FIERCE), but just like an injured tiger (or tigress), I just want to be licking my own wounds in a safe place, and recover there before I go out to meet the challenges that reality is going to pose to me.

The funny thing is, I haven't a clue where I might find this private haven. My room in Jurong doesn't quite make the cut, since I'm sharing it with my sister. The only thing that ever came closest was perhaps my own room in Sengkang, but even that is shared in some sense because people use the PC in my room to go on the Internet. Recently, the frequency with which I feel like I need to retreat into my private hideout has increased tremendously. Sadly, on those numerous occasions, I haven't felt like I've found my haven. No matter how hard I look or imagine, that psychological haven has proved elusive; the physical one has proved even more so. In any case, the obligations in life always manage to undercut my serious efforts at finding that haven. Hence, before I even start looking, I have to give up my search to do what has to be done---term essays, presentations, attend classes, study, etc---with wounds still smarting and bleeding.

I am immensely worried for myself because there is this growing sense within me that life is monotonous and boring. I call it disenchantment with life. I'm not motivated to do anything: not motivated to excel, not motivated to move, not motivated to fight the constant battles in life. NOT MOTIVATED, period. Please pardon me; I am upset because being unmotivated is a pretty novel state to me. All my life, I've been motivated to do everything. I've always been a happy, spritely girl, but recently, I just feel like a defeated soldier, with my head hanging down in despair.

Perhaps writing is my sole solace now; that is why I'm pouring my heart into this blog. Ironically, my blog can hardly be considered my cave: it is after all, on the Internet. I truly wonder how many people I don't know are going to chance upon this blog entry one day, and think to themselves, "Gee, that's one hell of a pathetic loser." I would really want to shut myself into my private haven then, and lick my wounds.