You know whose facebook cheered me up in what feels like the longest time ever? The guy who I'd the chance to know but never really got to because I thought he was distant and odd. Which I guess he is, but as it turns out, he's also a riot. Let's add this into my list of regrets, #9041.

You know another thing I regret? Making fun of Singer. Or Alex Deleon, to be exact. Because I just realized how inspiring his words are.



And really, what gives me the right to judge anyone?



I learn something new from my mistakes every single day. But I wish everyone else would learn it with me. Because I hate it when people jump to conclusions. Hypocritical much? Yes. I apologize. I'm trying to change. If it helps, I never assume the worst of anyone...although I never believe it even if it's true, which can be a bit of a problem.

My mind is clearer than usual today. I went to this cozy little restaurant for dinner tonight. First, let me explain, restaurants in south India (as far as I know) have two sections: non A/C, and an A/C hall, because south India isn't air-conditioned everywhere (one of the first things that hits me every single time I come here, because I take A/C for granted over there...c'mon). So the first floor of this restaurant, it's small and doesn't look like much. There's three tables, maybe. Then there's a narrow winding staircase hidden at the left you wouldn't notice until you're actually inside. If you go up the staircase, there's a roof garden, beautiful on cold nights. Tonight wasn't cold (India's weather is basically summer and winter, and right now it's still summer), so we went to the A/C hall, and took the corner most table.

In all honesty, I've been to many restaurants that look much nicer. This one has white brick walls, thick cotton curtains with traditional patterns on them, and lighting so dim that would make me think I'm in a bar if not for the food. But for some reason I can't quite explain, it's my favourite. Maybe it's because it's so quiet there, and I can hear my own thoughts better. It's a place I can go to and actually exhale freely. I mean, if this was Singapore, I'd bring my school bag and start studying there. And I wouldn't a breathe a word about it to anyone else so I can have it all to myself. That's how at home the place makes me feel. There's few places that have made me feel that way. There's NP. There's the park in Sembawang opposite Sembawang sec. Then there's PJ.

All in all, I'm in a comparatively good mood today. Natalie asked me to read F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Crack-Up, and while I didn't think it was a brilliant piece of work that I have to share with every single person I know unlike the rest of the people who commented on his essays, it was a well-written (well, if I absolutely have to be a critic, I'd say that it seems like he was distracted several times while he was writing because it doesn't flow very well, but then again, it's much more than I can say for myself) essay that I could relate to. Or rather, something that everyone will be able to relate to at at least one (or two or three, if you're unlucky) point in their lives.

Maybe I haven't sunk into as much depression as he had at the time he wrote this, but I do feel...empty. Without a purpose. At least he's reached the point where he's free to want anything (but finds that he doesn't really know what to desire). I'm at a point where I'm still restrained, but...I don't have any goals anyway. The more people hold you down, the more you've to fight against it, I think. But I've nothing to fight for.

These days, I'm feeling more and paranoid, I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it has something to do with that sinking feeling in my stomach that started a few months ago and never really left. I'm starting to doubt people. I used to accept whatever people tell me at face value, even the most ridiculous of lies, because I know their lies aren't really meant to harm me, and I know the need to lie as well as the next person. So I just listen and pretend it's true, and that's that. But now I'm doubting the things that I used to actually believe. And it's dangerous. I'm beginning to slip. Reality is but a dream that you can believe in.

But as I was pondering over these things, there was a single lyric that just suddenly appeared in my mind: Your faith has got to be greater than your fear. If there's god, then this time, it's in the form of Julian Casablancas. Maybe I don't have faith in the same things that other people put their faith in. But I think faith is important, anyway.

Okay, I'll let you in on a secret. I'm really only writing because I'm waiting for The Cab's new album to finish downloading so I can hibernate my laptop and go to sleep. It's a good thing, I guess, because I haven't written this much in a while. Not that this is long. It's just longer than what I write nowadays, because my thoughts are always interrupted. Broken. And it takes too much time and effort and pain to stitch them together and make them presentable again.

They say there's a common thread that binds us all. But what if I sewed you up with an uncommon one, and fell in love with the scar?

- Pete Wentz

It's a quote he posted a few of months or years ago, I'm not sure. I was reminded of it when I typed the word "stitch". When Pete first posted it, I showed it to a couple of close friends. They said it was pretty, but they didn't really understand it. So I figured I might as well write out my interpretation (okay, 30MB to go now, I still have to kill time until then).

In this instance, a thread that binds is, I assume, a relationship. In that case, a common thread could refer to friendship, or perhaps a non-platonic relationship that's well-defined. What's a non-platonic relationship that's well defined? Well, when you decide to date someone and call them your boyfriend/girlfriend and go around introducing them to everyone and proudly post your photos together on facebook and talk about them to everyone and know where this relationship is going--I'd call that a well-defined one.

But an uncommon thread? That would be a relationship that doesn't really have any clear beginning or end. Blurred boundaries. Something that's not really a relationship in the first place. A situation when two people like each other but are too afraid for whatever reason to reveal exactly how much or how long to the other, or have to hold back, and this leads them down a vicious road of confusion and despair. And the author, he holds the power to put a stop to everything but he doesn't really want to because he finds beauty in how much the other person is hurting.

How can anyone possible find beauty in how much someone's hurting? I don't know. Because they're fragile, I suppose.



Who looks at that photo and doesn't immediately think, "my god, she's gorgeous"? Besides, I find angst stories beautiful. So I guess maybe I'm only a step or two away from perceiving things the way the author does. But like I've said before, I'm a masochist. I'd fall in love with the scar, all right. Probably the one I give myself.

May Ee said I always fall for heartless men. I don't have anything to say about that. I don't think he's heartless. But a lot of people I fell for in the past were, and I knew it, and I liked them anyway. I felt helpless. There would be moments, little incidents now and then, where I really talk to the people I like and it'd make me feel like I can fly, and although they were few and far between, they were the moments I held on to.



10MB to go. I wouldn't say this post is sad. Melancholic, more like. I'm sorry I keep dodging questions about school. I've been meaning to post about it so I can direct everyone to it because there's actually a lot of things I want to say, but every time I click "new post", I just blindly grasp for words and fail to catch any that matter. I'll post it when I manage to churn out something that's at least borderline comprehensible.

If you need any hints for how I feel about school, all I can say is, I think I've caught a cold, and I hope I come down with a fever soon so I can take leave on Monday.

1MB left. Okay bye readers, thank you for being patient with me and reading through all these paragraphs of shit that don't really matter or make sense but you'd to read through anyway because I don't have an editor as of now (hehehe, just wait till I'm published).