You took everything, while I was staring at the sun...

Have I been a bad friend? I know I saw things I mean when I'm angry in here, but at the end of the day, it just shows I'm human after all. Not some motionless robot [that will only prevail when it comes to funerals or weddings]. And that I expect you to feel empathy for change. Put yourself in my shoes, rather than putting yourself in your ballet-dancer shoes.

I think I'm going on and on about this "am I trying to hard to please everyone when I know I can't do it?" situation. I am sick of it. Sometimes you can't be happy too long, neither can you feel sad for too long. It's a horrible feeling. I just wished the earth would swallow me up when these instances arise, but I know I can't because I have to face my own demons. I'm NO coward. I wasn't raised to be one. I wished I wasn't so concerned about everyone else around me, because when that happens, I get worried for no apparent reason.

My head speaks a language I don't understand. It's called the language of betrayal and disgust.

Kind-hearted souls who speak this language, please be a dear and teach me a thing or two about it. I'll buy you Double Chocolate donuts from Dunkin Donuts.

I'm tired of feeling anything. I just wonder what it's like to feel nothing, like what the junkies say they feel when they take drugs.

Maybe I should just sleep on it. When you sleep, everything seems so far away.

No wonder sleeping is one of my talents.

I'll see you in my dreamtown...

I miss the days when I was an annoying 4-year-old. To hell with Barbies. I grew out of it the minute after I opened my birthday present [blame the parents for buying that for me, they claim I wasn't that girly!]. It's no wonder I can never understand the sentiments of being a girl.

I'm screwed up, right?

*****

Can anyone tell me why they think my dad is a comical person? My brother and I don't think so. His jokes aren't exactly funny. And all the stories he tells us are quite old and not exactly interesting [unless, of course, you want to hear him talk about how he cycled from KL to Klang and take photos in a cemetery...then that's real fun].
Me: My friend said you're very funny. You must be happy someone thinks you're funny.
Dad: Most people think I'm funny.
Me: Sometimes you are funny, not all the time.
Dad: NO.
*goes in front, where father is not around*
Me: My friend thinks pa's funny.
Bro: *amazed* No, he isn't! His jokes aren't funny!

You see? Even we don't think he's funny! Probably because we have heard the stories like a billion times already. Like the fact his dog died for his father. And his poser cat who refuses to shake hands with a person more than three times. His cat is a poser because it likes to pose in front of the camera! Cam-whore kitty!

Of course we aren't allowed to keep cats because Auntie Mas hates cats! The evil mummy!


Oh and today I saw the Frenchman [I see him everyday, true, but today his department window was open so I could see him clearly, instead of snooping from the door!]. And I heard him speak in English! *melts* So sexy!

Any Frenchman who can speak in proper, understandable English is HOT!

Arsene Wenger speaks good English, and I think he's quite...

I was just using him as an example!

Before I become a qualified psychologist, please bring me to meet one to treat me for my absolutely random spasticness.

*Bluesy* out!