Second day of school.
I don't plan to blog about school, because I'm not much conscious to take note of what happened in class.
All I know is that I'm still Ok with school work, simply because there isn't much of work currently. That would change, I know.
I simply chose this title because I don't want my titles to repeat.
I don't exactly like to go emotionally gaga. But I think I have my limits at times too.
I hate my handphone. I hate it for the note that's can be seen in standby mode. I know it's set by me, but I hate it all the same.
I hate those 6 words, yet I can't do shit.
I never leave my messages unread if I can help it. I couldn't help it today. I don't even know what kind of reaction she had (if any) for my reply. I know I'm most probably faking it, since I'm a pro at faking almost everything and getting away with it.
I can even act high when I'm not. I think I've perfected the art of patronizing people. Maybe even bring it a notch higher. I always thought I had hit rock bottom.
Today I stand corrected. It's not so much about her. It's more of myself.
Why the hell am I feeling so down now anyway. I shouldn't be. I killed my eyes, making them dead. Dead eyes won't water.
I know it isn't because of her so quit fussing.
And the strange fact that I can somehow cheer most other people up while being down myself isn't helping.
The only reason for you to talk to me would be when you have nobody else to talk to, or in need of a walking paradox such as myself.
Or in the unlikely event that you were somehow cheered up by me, it must have been because you've been through something worse than me, and that speaks volumes.
You most probably would know it too, because I won't get mentioned on your blog or anything, because I'm best described as a condom. Dispose after use.
Or After Sex Throw Condom. ASTC. The trigo stuff. I might as well not sign on to MSN. I might as well throw away my phone, and stop using the computer, because I'm born from a rock and won't need friends.
If I'm going to write a book I'd write about how a machine goes around being other humans' punchbag and emotional rubbish bin.
The twist would come in when the narrator wakes up and finds that he is a mere object, and not treated as a human as he should be. And that the robot is himself in real life.
Man. I love myself for my twists.
Sometimes I hate people. Simply because they are selfish. I'm not selfless, and I won't bother acting ego. They take everything for granted, and throws me into their 'granted' territory, forgetting that I am human.
It doesn't help that I don't bother reminding them either.
Forget it.
If I'm a character in 1984, I'd have perfected 'doublethink'. My mental capacity is as such.
Seriously, I don't think you'd even care if I died today. Of course, I shan't do that just to prove my point. I'm not that stupid. I love myself. That's all that matters(?).
I don't want to go on anymore, not because I don't feel like it, but because even if I did, no one's going to care and I might as well slit my wrist and use blood for letters instead of typing out pixels.
Apologizing for the incoherence of the post. I can't think. I can't think now anyway. Feelings can never emanate from my words, so shut up and get a life.
If you hate reading crap, don't read the above.
I need a shower.
-- 1/03/2008 05:25:00 PM
