Fuel to the fire

Post deleted, because words spoken in rage are not worth it.

But I will say this - I am very very lucky to have such an awesome dad. Though, I do take him for granted a lot. I really think I should spend more time with him.

The last few grains of the hourglass

Work is not the full-awesomeness of work without my LT partners. I was probably too bushed to write this down yesterday, but I mean it with all my working heart.

Time has been flying really fast, and the holidays are almost halfway over. I feel kind of detached from the ebb and flow of everything, though. It is an odd feeling. I guess being put under such a tight routine of work, work and nothing but work has that effect on you. I am not unhappy though, just feeling sort of distant from the world. For example, half the time at work, I do not feel like myself. It is as if I were on auto-pilot.

And on the topic of time, there are many doors opening for me now, but there are doors closing at the same time. One example would be Rag Dance. It is going to be tiring as hell, but I have a pretty good feeling about it. As for doors closing, I think I am overstretching myself too much. I might have to drop one tuition, and I feel really really bad about it, but I know it must be done. I really would have liked to teach her all the way up to secondary 4. It is either that, or drop Starbucks - which I will never do, no matter how good the pay is for tuition.

In addition to that, I feel like I am shutting myself in. I guess I have given up on things that I had hoped for on the more personal topic of life. And by that, I mean that side hopes like job ambitions do not count. I am talking about the ideal personal life I would have. Sure, I would have loved to have a functional family with a husband who loves me to the death and would spoil me rotten, and kids(?) who were filial to me. I would have loved to always be an optimistic person, who did not rely on the rational so often, who did not measure people so often and to take life as it comes with a pinch of salt, not a whole factory full of it.

I guess, at the end of the day, those really are just foolish words.

People do not love for life, unconditionally.
People get tired of showing appreciation.
People take others for granted.
People make you cynical.
People cannot be trusted.

Somewhere, sometime, I probably have also been guilty of this to someone else.

Maybe I really should just confine my happy and perfect world to my Sims, without the random death of shutting them in the basement with an active fireplace.

Till the End

It's amazing how much stress mats can prolong your stamina. Normally when working as waitress, by the end of a 5 or 6-hour shift my feet feel as if they are on fire but when I have stress mats at work now, I can go for a 10-hour shift and feel perfectly fine. It's WEIRD.

Closing is the shit. Sooo much stuff to do. :(
But you get to do stupid shit too. I daresay one day I will try to fit myself into the pastry case just for the sheer heck of it.

So there I was, sitting at a deserted AMK Bus interchange after midnight, waiting for my sister. There's hardly people walking around, except for the SBS Transit staff, echoing footsteps punctuated by the low rumble of buses that have yet to clock out for the night. And as I watched each bus driver get off their bus, clock out, and out the door, a thought struck me - "I wonder if their wives or children are waiting for them at home, waiting to eat supper, or for the wives, waiting to go to sleep together?"

And that immediately spurred the immediate thought, "WILL I BE IN SUCH A SITUATION IN 10 YEARS TIME?!" (Whether the waitee, or the waited.)

And it sent a torrent of emotions through me, upsetting me quite a bit. Because amongst all the competing emotions, the one that screamed out the strongest was Fear.

And as the few remaining people thinned out to the ghosts, I thought about what I was thinking in the afternoon when I was having a chat with my awesome Wisma Assistant Store Manager. You know, I think it would really kill me.

God, if you are there, and if you are spying on us earthlings with some divine internet access or sheer telepathy and reading our blogs and minds, please put that stalking to some good use and show me what I must do, and where I must go. And if you do not stalk blogs, I am sure one of your angels do.

Another not-so-fresh beginning

The experience Arts Camp gives you never fails to amaze people, and I am not the exception. I really do not know what is it that creates the magic, but it makes the whole thing really amazing and unforgettable. Those 5 (6 for me because I have to do Saikang as an AOGL) crazy days of not having enough sleep (and even when you do, you end up sleeping on some hard surface like the floor or the table that is guaranteed to give you aches every morning), tiring yourself out from as early as 7.30am to 4.am everyday, eating crap that they pass off as food, covered top to toe in mud and other shit, is so fucking illogically enjoyable.

I mean, if you were to isolate every single factor and look at it, it is definitely not enjoyable. For example, who enjoys not having enough sleep!?

If the O-Comm promised the freshies an experience they would never forget, they definitely delivered it. In the past 6 days, I have had a total of 12 hours of sleep, had terrible aches all over my body, was always hungry, was always dirty, was always tired, and I even had to leave halfway for a few hours to see a sensei because my knee was so busted from playing Sadako for 6 hours in the Guy's toilet the night before to even walk properly the next day.

But you know, I think what makes the whole experience amazing is that EVERYONE IS IN THE SAME SHIT TOGETHER. It's like, you really feel a sense of belonging to the camp, to your house, to your OG. Even though you know this feeling is fleeting and transient, you cannot help but feel so. You feel as if you not only have your freshies as new friends, but you also know your whole damn house. And everyone else knows you, and accepts you.

You can do crazy shit, and nobody will ever judge you for it because they are equally guilty for doing stupid things too. (:

The sense of companionship is just so powerful, that whenever Zhenyu, the house IC speaks, everyone, whether girls or guys, can be moved to tears. It happened during the war games and at the end of the camp where he gave his speech. It is ridiculous isn't it? How you can know a whole community of people for 6 days and feel like you have known them forever that you can even be so touched by them.

It does not make sense.
It sounds pretty darn ridiculous.
It is not plausible.

BUT FUCK, IT DID HAPPEN!!!

And that I think, ladies and gentlemen,

is the magic of Arts Camp.

Thank you everyone - House ICs, freshies, counsellors and O-comm for bringing it back for me again.

A cup full of love

I do not have much time because I have to rush off to camp soon, but I will make the most out of this post as I can. I had my first attachment today at Plaza Sing Starbucks and it was really really awesome. Thank you PS partners for setting the bar for attachments and for making it such a welcoming experience. (:

Although, being attached to another store seriously disorientates me. When I make the fraps, I automatically go to the right to get the pitchers when the pitchers here are on the left. Everytthhiiingg is opposite. So yeah, it really screwed up my brain to the extent that I almost made a wrong drink because the shock made me forget my recipe and replace it with something else. Meh. And I was really reallyyyy clumsy. So embarrassing!

But oh well, we learn everytime we make a mistake. (:

It's like building up an experience bar. Hurhur. (DOUBLE PUN!)

Uund wisch' sie wieder weg

I never ever understood why people get themselves piss drunk to drown their sorrows. Sure, your problems would go away in that instant the moment the happy musicians in your head start playing, but you would wake up the next day feeling worse than shit. It's bad enough to be emotionally fucked, but to be physically fucked too is pretty much stabbing yourself in the back.

In this month only, I would say that the amount of alchohol that has been consumed is that of how much I would normally consume in a whole year. It is not through blind drinking and chugging it down. I never got high to that extent or drunk. It usually stops at being comfortably high and finding everything amusing.

But really, the company is amazing. The stupid things that are done, the damn witty comments that arise, and waking up the next afternoon with the remains of everyone around you is a really surreal experience - sleeping faces, unglamorous sprawled forms, abandoned cups and empty vodka bottles. One thing is for sure though - its a mega endorphin release. Happy chemicals ftw . (:

But you know, it never fails to amaze me how comfortable it is to hang out till the next morning. It is like, when everyone around ceases all activity and nature is dead, the silence sort of envelopes you and creates a very sublime form of comfort and privacy. And when the night is over, and you see the first tinge of a sunrise and hear the birds wake and the traffic slowly starting to murmur in the streets, you cannot help but wonder, "Damn, we sleep for such a short period of time!"Although well, it feels much much longer when you are alone or when you are sleeping.

And, the phenomena is just amazing. As the world awakes, from being totally aware of your solitude, you start to merge in with the rest of the world. Just another person walking around who is fighting to live, breathe. It is pretty much like the world swallows up your existence.

But you know what? I would like to walk around the streets at 3am again and take a picture in the middle of a junction, just below the traffic light. =)

And on another note, the small things really do count to brighten up your day. This is a little late, but I saw this when I ordered my much loved Meatball Marinara from Ion Subway last week after Japanese class.

Needless to say, I think the person who wrote it loves Meatball Marinara too. :D
And yes, I am guilty of sneaking a smiley face once or twice whenever its quiet on a Starbucks cup listed with a Caramel Macchiato.

I guess what goes around really does come around.

On the same topic, the small things in life really do make a difference. Just the mere act of plonking my ass down somewhere with a good book (Brent Weeks, I love you!) , my favourite drink and warm food makes my day. There's something curiously satisfying about ploughing through a 653 page book in 6 hours and having all you need around you, i.e Food, drink and music.
It never fails to surprise me when I tear myself away from the world of imagination and realise where I am. Yet, it is comforting at the same time.
Definitely more of such days to come. I have been doing this for a very, very, long time and I think it is time to go back to such a lifestyle and churn out more creative juices.


I think I have finally snapped. A small screaming part of me has exploded internally and everyone else has been moping up the mess, holding up signs that read "Nothing to see" while wearing their best poker face. As I mentioned earlier, all the self-hatred and the frustration has reached a point where I cannot stand myself anymore and my mind goes through a complete defragmentation process. That explains the bangs. I just could not stand myself anymore. Although I still cannot when I look in the mirror, at least I am starting to get used to it. The healing starts now.

As a note to future-me, take this as a major lesson learnt. Even when shit happens, never, ever drag yourself down along with it as you struggle to find a drainage plug. Because most of the time there really is not one. And, although many people tell you this, and you yourself know it deep down inside but yet ignore it, it is simply not worth it. Why should you give a shit even when the odds are so obviously against you? Never, ever, ever let anyone hold your leash. Nobody should be close enough ever again to let you sink so low. Because my dear, you only have 9 lives and out of the 9, you have already used 7. God is up there laughing at you and calling you a noob. Unless you play the game really well and God up there decides to rank you "A" and give you a bonus life, you are as they say, fucked. Haha, laife ish pwnz joo.

Life will definitely be different from now.

But hey, I will definitely live to blog another day.

and, as they say, "If you want something so badly in your life with all your heart and soul, the world will conspire with you to get it." but at the same time, "If it is meant to be yours, you will never lose it."

Zum ersten mal alleine in unserem versteck

Ich seh' noch unsere namen an der wand

Uund wisch' sie wieder weg

Ich wollt' dir alles anvertrauen

Warum bist du abgehauen

Komm zurück, Nimm mich mit

Time to end off this post with some quote-worthy lines fresh from intoxicated brains!

"Shoot, shag, marry - Superman, Batman, Spiderman."

Ans: "I will shoot Superman, because he won't die, and I will shag Spiderman because he's only good for 1 fuck, and marry Batman because he's Batman."

"Shoot, shag, marry - Legolas, Aragorn, Gandalf"

Ans: "Shoot Legolas - cause he's gay, shag Gandalf - cause he uses contraceptive (YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!), and marry Aragorn (no explanation required)."

"Shoot, shag, marry - Lee, Kuan, Yew"

Ans: Shoot Yew. (Pun ftw!)

Through the monsoon

I felt like Indiana Jones today. Salvaging through the wreck meant having to endure the mud and the stench, strategically position yourself with every step or you face kissing the mud-covered floor, and straining to see in the darkness where your torchlight is just a pathetic little round ball of light. And of course, having to face up to ambushes from your ancient archenemy, the Cockroaches. It was all in a day's work getting really filthy and smelly, saving documents that would change the world (or yours, anyway) and stopping a falling locker from crushing you to death, armed with only your trusty quick reflexes.

At the end of such an exciting day, I am tired as hell, filthy as hell, smelly as hell, I look like hell, but hey, I managed to get away with only 4 big bruises.

Battle scars FTW.

"Some words that are not meant are often said, whereas some words that are meant are mostly, not said at all."

brutal honesty sometimes works better than consolation

I love my other half. And no, being my other half does not imply anything romantic. He's basically what I would be if I were male - just 10 times more gorgeous and 20 times more practical than me. It's always scary in the sense that everything that he says or thinks is how I would think if I didn't have my 9 months to 'find myself'. Being cynical in the rawest form. But yet, at the same time, I know this side exists in me. It's just dormant, at the moment. Although, I would say that he plays the game much, much better than I do. Which is why he's my "master" and I'm his "student". Don't ask. And no, it is nothing kinky.

So here I am, listening to headphones when he suddenly taps me on the shoulder and my jaw drops when I recognise him after 10 seconds. He has a date and after 5 minutes, his date is quickly ignored at one corner (as much as I feel bad about it, I gloat a little at how much he loves me :D ). In a nutshell, he says

1) You look nice (in approval after scanning me up and down), but your eyebags (in disdain)
2) You got white hair
3) You lost weight
4) And, what are you doing with yourself man

I have to admit, I felt a little ashamed when he gave me such a disdainful look. But that was before he said "I'm not going to let you continue like this" and then he immediately scans around the crowd to find a guy that passes his 'looks' indicator and was all ready to grab him and get him to talk to me.

And he was serious.

and THEN, he grabs his date and asks his date whether his date had any good-looking single straight guy friends. My eyes were like O.O and my face said 'what are you doing?!'

Then he chucks his date back to the corner HAHA.

And basically he semi-scolds me some more as my "master" and laments, "Where are all the good-looking guys today?"

So I glared at him and said, "That's cause the only one is right in front of me!!!"

Stupid model. He looks glamorous even when I want to smack/hug him for trying to grab random guys off the Plaza Singapura floor. And honestly, if he went up to a guy and tried to drag him over, the guy probably would not look half as good next to him.

Sheesh.

But the point is, somehow, he really drives a point home.
And that is, "You're not being yourself, get over it."
And the second point would be, "You look terrible with your eyebags."

Thank you, Mel.
I realise we don't talk as much as we used to, but you always coincidentally appear at my lowest, and make me effectively realise how bloody stupid I am. You're like my logic (which has been ignored a lot recently) in human form. I don't know why, but your words go through my thick skull more effectively than if someone else said the same thing.

back around the bend

Thinking back, I really took a lot of things for granted. Not just the obvious happiness, but even my friends and my family. It's a shame how we always - yes I think this word deserves to be used - forget the things that we have. And why is it only when we lose it, or when we hit rock bottom, that we realise that we have been taking things for granted? I have been constantly reminding myself not to take things for granted since the last time I hit rock bottom a few years ago where I was near suicidal, but it seems like it has not been as effective as I thought.

Happiness eludes me. In the past few months this year, I have been grabbing hold of it, feel it slip out once again, struggle to get it back, and feel the relief pour through me as I manage to again. And I think I know why I am how I am now. I depended on one thing too much for my happiness. It was a case of "As long as... I'll be able to pull through anything". Which is why I am feeling the brunt of everything now - and not just from one isolated incident.

Am I wrong to depend and trust too much? Should I just not depend on anyone or anything? Because I sure as hell cannot depend on myself. My mind is simply too wild and unpredictable. It is like Area51 to me.

I'm going to stop fighting for happiness. I'm giving up trying so hard to be happy when I'm not. On the contrary, I am going to be as miserable as I want to be, as pathetic as I want to be. I am already at a point where I really do not care anymore. The only thing I can possibly lose to now is myself. And there will come a point when all the accumulated self-hatred and anguish will snap something inside of me, when I have dissected and destroyed every single part of me that makes me, me.

It is only then that I will emerge as a whole new person. Someone incapable of falling so low and capable of behaving in such a disgusting manner ever again. Someone who will not be wrought by her own emotions, and slave to circumstances beyond her control.

And when that happens, I will get up and stare at the sun in the eye.

And laugh.

Emily goodness

I just caught one of the final showings of Emily of Emerald Hill and I have to say, it was a bloody brilliant performance. There were certain moments in the entire play that was particularly poignant. In the beginning, I had no idea where the whole play was going, and maybe I daresay, a little bored and sleepy because of the lighting. But as the interval passed, the story began to take shape in the most delightful way possible and I was pleasantly surprised at how everything tied in so nicely. Although, as I was watching the character Emily on stage, it was like watching my own mother there. Freaky.

I think the play has really enlightened me on what it takes to be a mother and it has helped me to understand a little more on why my mother sometimes behaves in the most oppressing way possible. It is really something you should not miss.

I left the theatrette feeling satisfied and somewhat happy, but somehow, just a little hollow.

I went for another buffet again today with my family, but it was less awesome than expected.

I just hate the politics of it. How only me or my sister could leave the table once at a time or it would spell awkward situation, how we must alternate conversation partners or someone would feel left out. Stuff like that. It shouldn't be so restricted. You would think that family conversations were spontaneous.

And I just don't know.

I just didn't derive the same kind of joy that I used to from food.

When a question stumps the life out of you

Sometimes life damns you in the darnest of ways.

At work today I felt as if my ass were falling out of my mouth. Never, and I repeat, NEVER, in my health-plagued life have I ever felt as if there was a vacuum in my throat. I literally stood there, with the question ringing in my ears, feeling my lungs cut the fresh breath of air short halfway and my throat constricting in on itself.

Time slowed, I shit you not.

Cause immediately all the little sleeping people in the head woke up, started screaming, and started a Battle Royale in my head.

How am I supposed to answer something like that?

In a split second, two parties were formed in my head - "My house argues that...." and as the question was repeated, they suddenly turned Taiwan parliament, shoved their chairs away and started throwing eggs and tomatoes at each other.

And in an instant, my whole day turned to grey as I forced the answer out. And immediately, I wished I could have killed myself with a Bagel blade.

Airplanes by B.O.B (featuring Haley Williams)
Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now (wish right now, wish right now)
Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now (wish right now, wish right now)

(B.o.B.- Verse 1)
Yeah
I could use a dream or a genie or a wish
To go back to a place much simpler than this
Cause after all the partying
The smashing and crashing
And all the glitz and the glam and the fashion
And all the pandemonium and all the madness
There comes a time when you fade to the blackness
When you're staring at that phone in your lap
And hopin' but them people never call you back
But that's just how the story unfolds
You get another hand
Soon after you fold
And when your plans unravel in the sand
What would you wish for if you had one chance?
So airplanes airplanes
Sorry I'm late
I'm on my way
So don't close that gate
If I don't make that
Then I switch my flight
And I'll be right back at it
By the end of the night

(Chorus - Hayley Williams)

[B.o.B - Verse 2]
Yeah
Yeah
Somebody take me back to the days
Before this was a job
Before I got paid
Before it ever mattered what I had in my bank
Yeah back when i was trying to get a tip at Subway
Back when I was rapping for the hell of it
But now days we rapping to stay relevant
I'm guessing that if we can make some wishes out of airplanes
Then maybe oh maybe I'll go back to the days
Before the politics that we call the rap game
And back when ain't nobody listened to my mixtape
And back before I tried to cover up my slang
But this is for decater
What's up Bobby Ray
So can I get a wish to end the politics
And get back to the music that started this shit
So here I stand
And then again i say
I'm hoping we can make some wishes out of airplanes

Aaaaand,

relief jumps out the window.

And goes

Splaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat.

No more horse riding, spelunking and crazy stuff for me!
I wonder if taking a break from school is actually going to be worth it.

The Starbucks Experience

I have always loved work, but I did not ever dream of loving work to this extent. Call me a workaholic, but being at work makes me really happy. Sure, I get scolded sometimes and I am a tad bit slow when learning things which may annoy people, but somehow that does not deter me in the least. I guess being thick skinned helps. Either that, or work is making my skin even thicker.

I would even go as far to say that this has been the best job I have ever been involved in thus far. Granted, the pay is not great and the customers may be nasty, but somehow there's a sense of gratification after each shift. Okay, let's not talk about each shift. Let's talk about the gratification down to each single drink. Every drink is like a renewed challenge, where anything that can go wrong will go wrong. The margin for error is higher than the Petronas. But somehow, out of all the screw-ups that can happen, a great deal of satisfaction is achieved whenever I do a good drink.

Just a single compliment from my shift manager today about the lemon zen juice blended drink that I made made me really happy.

And of course, there are my partners. They are an awesome bunch of people that I know I will be able to depend on. It may be naive to say so at this point of time since I hardly know them, but my gut feeling gives me a good vibe which I will trust.

Ladies and not-so-gentlemen, making coffee is really an art. Not just from the tangible art of it, but also from the cooperation amongst the partners needed to sustain it. And it's just so easy to tip the balance of harmony.

White russians actually do knock some sense into you

I sometimes forget how complicated people can be. Which of course, is not a good thing. I seem to be fooled very often by outward appearances. I guess the two glasses of white russians and the 4 expresso shots of yesterday reminded me of that. I really did not expect that the easy-going attitude was a veil for a past of pain. I cannot imagine having to go through the same thing, and at the same time I'm relieved that something like that has not happened to me yet. It is disgusting, I know. But I can't help appreciating what I already have. It makes my problems seem so much more trivial.

And my aunt cleared up my thoughts for me. Apart from the awesome homemade pancakes, mango shake, painstakingly cooked lunch and dinner, she gave me the best advice that anyone has given me so far that I will definitely remember for life. She even asked me to stay another night for "therapy"(aka lots of awesome homecooked food, booze and with the company of my cousin and my crazy aunt) but I have to fetch my sister in a few hours at the airport at 3am. And for the sake of myself many years down the road, should I find myself in another similar situation, I will post what she said, as a reminder and constant reminder to myself.

In a nutshell,

"Relationships are voluntary on both parties. If you try to force one side, then it won't be a relationship anymore, right? And, even if they don't make the best boyfriend, most of the time they'll make the best friends."

"You have to stop wondering why things happened. Because there is never an answer to why."

"You have to understand that the initial attraction is largely physical and superficial. Beyond the surface of a person, you don't know anything beyond that."

Award-winning golden advice. (:
Thanks.

illusion

I know that relationships are a messy business. I know that the moment you enter any relationship, you immediately lose a friendship. Whether it works out or not, you still do lose it. I understand that even clearer today. But despite understanding it, it is not as easy to accept it.

Why is it always a question of dishing out the pain or taking in the pain? Why is the balance in-between just so hard to achieve? I think at this point of time, everything that I have been trying to fight against, to disprove, has backfired. Is this really the truth in the end? I guess it seems to be so.

If that is the case, I reject everything that I once believed in.

Happy Holidays

I've just touched down a few hours ago from Phuket and oddly enough, despite feeling extremely drained from all the exhaustion and excitement of the past few days, I am compelled to blog.

To be honest, I started off the trip dreading everything. I dreaded going overseas, carrying all the emotional baggage and ruining everyone's trip. I dreaded going overseas, becoming insanely happy and forget everything until I come back to Singapore and it slaps me in the face like a cold fish. I dreaded running away from my problems. For some masochistic reason, I wanted to stay behind, stare it in the face, and force myself to get over it.

But I would say that the trip really did help.

It proved one thing to me - I'm capable of still being happy despite all the emotional baggage.

I'll be frank with myself - there's no way I can bounce back like a ball that flies back to you in a game of Squash. As much as I would like to get up, shove everything away and declare that I'm a strong bitch and move on, I can't. That's probably one of my greatest weaknesses ever. The only way a person can seriously impair me would be if I gave a shit about that person. Like, really gave a shit. And that list is really short.

But at the same time, I have discovered that there's no use in doing that. I can't mope forever. I will recover - eventually. It is really just a matter of time, which is currently indefinite at this stage. So, I am going to give up forcing myself like I have been trying to do so. I will just feel what I am feeling and let it come as it goes.

I think my feelings were the clearest when I stepped off that ledge, 60 metres above the ground, when my eyes were level with the mountains and I was towering above all the buildings below. I knew that in a million years, I would not ever dare to jump. But I did.

I took the plunge, feeling the fear change to exhiliration, feeling absolute nothingness around me. It was frightening, but somehow reassuring. I thought to myself as I heard the countdown ringing in my head "3,2,1, JUMP", that if I were to die there and then, there's really nothing left to lose.

The past few days, I have been rejecting everything in my life. Rejecting logic, rejecting truth, rejecting my friends, rejecting my family, and above all, rejecting myself. I think it's time I stopped pushing myself and everyone away. I need to learn how to love myself once again, stop hating myself for being pathetic. And I need to learn how to treasure the people around me who have been worried.

This all struck me when I felt the rope tense, and pull me back from the water - a cold slap to the face. It was like dying and ressurecting. Ultimately, I am alive. I have everything to lose. And the last thing I should lose is myself.

Because no matter how self-destructive I get, life goes on. And life doesn't give a fuck about you. The rope could have snapped or something else may have gone horribly wrong. But it didn't, despite the risks.

So now I'll take the second plunge - I'll find myself back. I want to recapture the feeling of being entirely in control yet out of control as I jumped off the ledge, feeling the platform leave my feet beneath me, my body starting to fall forward, and my arms grabbing hopelessly at the air. It's not going to be easy, but my friends will be my rope. They will save me when shit goes wrong.

And, for the moment, I want to be alone.

I really do not think I can afford to have anyone else in the near future. I jumped alone, and it will be so. Unless I can find myself back, I can't possibly love anyone else. It would not be fair to whoever comes along the way. I know entire affair sounds really cheem and emo, but it's a feeling that cannot be undermined by the word "emo". It is not as trivial as most people think. There's moping, there's recovering, and there's emotionally unavailable.

I do not blame anyone except for myself. I think most people who have not experienced this would not understand ( I didn't ) and would dismiss it immediately as weakness. And I am not the only person in the world who is going or have gone through this shit. And I am equally guilty of causing this upon people too. But the feeling is undeniable. If I'm depressed, I can't fucking deny that I am and draw paint happy faces all over my frowning face. I am not going to do that for you, society. So condemn me if you must.

My traffic light is spoilt.

But it is okay. Being lonely is fine. I just do not want to let anyone else in anymore (excluding the people who I am already close to). Because being close is being vulnerable and I just do not have the capacity anymore. It's like freefalling without a rope.

And we all know what happens when you hit the ground.