Damn

Arrgh…Bloody hell. I wish I could apologize for the swearing. But damn it, after you have spent at least a whole hour typing a blog entry and suddenly your text disappears into thin air just like that, you seriously cannot help it. Really all you can do to stop yourself from tearing up everything in sight. Let this therefore be a warning to all of those with short fuses-do NOT get an expensive keyboard!!!

I was writing about a dream I had last night. Was at Junction 8, met some Catholic High friends, talked with Shaun (Hehehe….go figure which one of the 3) about Lit and had an extremely surreal encounter with Alex Eng and Teo Zi Cheng. I cannot be bothered to elaborate-firstly because as I said I was writing about it just minutes ago and secondly because I am feeling extremely pissed at myself.

“Anger is a thief that steals away the nice moments”. The following is a quote that I encountered in Reader’s Digest a long time ago, proposed to my mum to send it in to a newspaper named Adpost and subsequently did so under her name, then winning a little prize for it. Not surprising, because it’s freaking true.

There is a major flaw with some of the people whom I currently most commonly associate with-their inherent pride, their stubborn refusal to admit they are wrong, and their inability to relate to others. Not flaws I claim ownership of. No- my biggest(among others) is my extremely short fuse. (But really Zhiyi I am surprised that you said I have a good temper!) It doesn’t catch fire easily, but disappearing text makes it extremely combustible material. And resultant explosions can consist of a very wide variety of unwanted side-effects. Try imagining what might happen if a ton of explosives goes boom right next to several barrels of flammable alcohol and you’d probably have a good idea of what just happened.

Apparently sparks still fly out from the burning fluid. I am pissed because I provided the flame. Alcohol does not catch fire by itself. And I am not interested in a display of fireworks right now. I want to put it out, but I do believe they will not listen, for they forever doubt my intentions. In which case time will do its work, for in time the fuel will run out. But right now-dash it all. It is not a good combination of substances to leave together, alcohol and explosives. But whatever the case, I must prevent myself from catching fire again. And at the same time, make sure that the alcohol does not set each other alight.

But thank you for reading, whoever you are. I feel much better now. Oh wells, I suppose life goes on. Till I blog again, see you!