29 June 2006

Lacrimation

(Not that it would be any use) First I would like to request the media to stop broadcasting Singapore Idol. Cease telecast! It's just hopeless, daylight robbery, and absolutely horrible. People who can sing don't show up and die undiscovered, but those who think they can sing make it big and live forever torturing everyone with their voice in all its 'glory'. Bah. No further comment.

Thinking and being. Two different things.

The first question I asked this week that I can remember was 'Can someone show me how to be happy?' But that was very subjective. There were moments when I had to wander in a crowd alone observing everyone, finding out what they're thinking about, yet being lost in my thoughts and trying to see where I stand. And when I feel like crying I just look for a quiet corner like the staircase at the end of hall in the corner's corner to let it all out for a minute or two and then coming out again. This feeling of being lonely. I've never felt it for so long. It was somewhat bitter sweet. Reminds me of how I used to be one person when I'm around people and another person when I'm alone.
But people shouldn't leave me alone because when I'm on my own I start to make things up, say things that don't exist, dream too much, try too hard, and I'd probably die crying. Embarassing to say. :]

I left home without my painkillers today. At work it was physical agony. Happens so often. I think I'm addicted to them painkillers. Works wonders. Drains my veins and puts me to sleep. And I slept today in the meeting room. Made myself a make-shift bed with the chairs, lights out, doors locked, curled up and drifted away for just over an hour.
Today went by longer than usual.

Strange things happened at work the past few days. The internet didn't work, the photocopying machine blew up, one of my colleague's computer refused to turn on that it had to be sent out for repairs (her work piled up), my other colleague who talks too much kept saying that I hated him (which is quite true actually considering the 'damage' he caused), my printer fucked up when I needed to use it but when someone else used it it worked like nothing happened, and people needed me. NEEDED me. Who the hell ever needed me?
Maybe things didn't want me to go. On the other hand the management's still trying to convince me to stay. 'What can we do to make you stay?' they ask. 'Can we sing you a song?'
Yeah right. Funny. Let me go, I thought. This place is evil and you're all bloody idiots.

I will only miss one thing about this job: the whole idea of it. I do hate the whole idea, but I'll miss it coz it's the only way to live. The only way to start living. To learn the language of the world - money, time, getting things done. But I know it's going to take another long time until I'm ever going to be this lucky again. I'm not worried because I know I always screw up. Hell, everybody can screw up. I just dare not to screw up so if I lock that in my head I'm good to go. Talk me out of it, whatever, I'm sick and tired of being sorry.

I will be arranging lunch for everyone at work tomorrow. Just because I feel like being nice.

Ugh. All I had today was some biscuits and a slice of bread.
Too much pain to realize.

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