Some people write nice, abstract, vague little lines of literature, almost poetry but not quite so, when they are emotionally unstable and their brains feel like snapping in two. No, that’s a way to describe arms and legs and such, body parts of length. Whatever, I’m digressing. Now all that is left is the vagueness. I really can’t be bothered.

Scoff at this because it desperately screams “attention seeking whore”.

I write not because of that I guess for the reason of documenting life as I live it, read back maybe a year or so later, laugh at myself for being a silly little boy and smile.

Also as an upkeep to my proficiency in literacy of the language so it doesn’t drop to a point where I can barely manage a sentence without some sort of a reliance on filler, invalid words such as “lah”.

A post that is random and drives no point, and has no clear message.

What’s new, really.

whine whine whine complain complain complain. I typed out a lot of shit but deleted them. what’s the use.

move out date looms. don’t know what to do about the lost keys. have to enquire about an exact duplicate.

fidelia, I can’t HELP BUT REMEMBER WHAT YOU SAID THAT DAY AT BIZ PARK

QUOTE, “OH MY GOD HE IS THE UGLIEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN”.

I’m actually jealous because he’s cute, not you.

As seen on a tshirt.

Still whoozy the next morning as we made our way back on one of the first trains. Decided to take a big smiley grin picture with doraemon.