| Tuesday, April 01, 2008 |
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random: ushering rocks. i love being an usher. i love being part of the singapore fashion festival, even if i'm only a volunteer and i'm doing shit work such as hauling boxes, packing goodie bags, ushering people.... all those manual labour sweated out....... it all pays out in the end, to meet the nice people who thank you for the smallest thing you do. having someone thank you for something that you did, or tried your best to, simply MAKES MY DAY. still can't forget how happy i made the lady with the lil' girl today, or how often she thanked me, even for such a small thing as changing her seat..... it's the little things in life that make life worth living. yes, i believe in that. oh and being able to WATCH the shows. my oh my. what an experience. hours of preparation and hard work just for 2o short minutes of feeling as though you've been transported to a whole totally different universe. just for a while, i actually feel like part of it. the clothes, the glamour, the beauty...... everything. on a totally different note....... i'm keeping myself too busy to think. still, i can't help but wonder if they were all lies that you told, just to get what you want. i miss east coast late night chilling, out on the breakers, or just enjoying the sea breeze and listening to the crash of the waves. pasir ris just doesn't match up; it's like lapping versus crashing; speeding on a honda versus speeding in a lamborghini. it just ain't the same. i miss beach bar chilling. i miss talking to you. i miss the way my phone rings in the middle of the night, waking me up just for a short chat. i hate that i miss it all. bbbbbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!! would it still be the same, or would things change? i'm so scared i'd burst into tears when i see you and think of all the things that i'd done - wittingly, unwittingly. knowingly, unknowingly. i wonder if i made the right choice. i can't help but feel nervous about the thought of dinner with....... i don't have a freaking clue why the hell would i even want to do that, except that something in me desperately needs and wants to do it. call it closure, call it guilt, call it remorse, call it a belated need to apologize, but whatever it is, i think i HAVE to do it. thank you, xi wen, for agreeing to it. sorry, for even putting you up to it. sighs. i wish things weren't this way between us, yet i must admit that a part of me is glad that they are. you don't deserve the mean, cold way i'm treating you - yes, you don't have to tell me i'm being a bitch. i know that already - yet i just can't treat you the same. can you understand that? perhaps we're just better off this way. i can't stop remembering the past. and it's times like these when i do, that i just feel like crying. it hurts to think that people i consider friends could actually do this to me. why? i feel that i've lost control of myself. what are morals? what is right, and what is wrong? how do you know what is right and what is wrong? self first, or others? when do you know to put yourself first, and when to put others? self first = selfish, self-centered. others first = martyr, self-sacrificing. "yes, you should learn to stand on your own two feet, but not stomp on other people's toes to do it." i... now why the fffcuk am i feeling emo? oh i know. cos i'm such a smart ass to let curiosity overrule me and go read people's comments. stupid. so soo stuupid. RAAARRRHHHHHH. |
| 'please don't stop the music 12:49 am |
now playing :
| song of my life. |
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Past the point of no return - no backward glances: the games we've played till now are at an end. Past all thought of "if" or "when" - no use resisting: abandon thought, and let the dream descend . . . |
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| Writer |
| I am an eighteen-year-old student currently attending Republic Polytechnic. I enjoy reading, writing, chilling, intelligence, and sarcasm. My goals in life include being a professional slacker, wasting as much of my time, life and intelligence away, sleeping a minimum of 12 hours everyday, being a successful bum, and maybe, possibly, someone you could bring home to meet mom with. |
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| Tag |
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Free shoutbox @ ShoutMix |
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| Credits |
| This layout was created by Coram Deo. Other credits go to X X and X |
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