[Journal] 12-27-12

(09:31PM)

It actually pains me to think of Irene Adler as "the woman". I just hate the fact that SHE became a significant part in Sherlock Holmes' memory. Drat! I'm jealous, and I know it's unreasonable because Sherlock is just  a fictional character. But still, I can't help it. I have been fascinated by Sherlock Holmes ever since I first read about him on my "Children's Encyclopedia". See? He can actually qualify as my first love. *sigh*. And now I'm re-reading "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" for probably the 4th time. How hopeless is that? This, truly is, the perfect example of an unrequitted love.

(11:59PM)

It sucks when the only way to rest is to cry yourself to sleep. Not that I'm doing it. But I'm probably close to. No, I'm not sad, depressed, nor problematic. I just want to sleep but my insomnia wouldn't allow me. I've always believed that crying your heart out leaves you exhausted. The problem is, I can't conjure an image nor relive an experience that could bring tears to my eyes. So yeah, I guess I'd have to stick up to the traditional way of counting sheeps