and I don't feel any different

I know it's late, I know you're weary 

I know your plans don't include me 

Still here we are, both of us lonely

you, who made me laugh again

so one last touch and then you'll go 

and we'll pretend that it meant something so much more 

but it was vile, and it was cheap 

and you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me

maybe sometime, in a long time

Nu Yeah! CNY weekend was spent in London and having steamboat out of a rice cooker #asianskillz. This week was spent at the clubs and generally not studying at all. Now more than ever is an apt time for getting my life together. Drunken snowball fights and spontaneously rolling down hills are where the good clean fun ends. Although I guess showers are clean. If I do not speak or think of it, nothing is real. I just like to do things I'm not supposed to do because it's fun and it's exciting and it's for now and it's something to do but also it's a burden and a mistake. And it's always there. I don't know when I became this person. I'm a fucking coward. Everything here is fleeting - snow so thick that it covers your shoes could be gone by the morning. Much like, well you know. I am a coward because I have a million questions about this situation and your situation but I don't want to confront it. I am a coward because I hate almost everything about this and yet I have done nothing about it. I am a coward pretending to be brave and unfeeling and cool when I know from past experiences that I can't handle these kinds of things. Because as much as I like to pretend I'm a boy, I unfortunately have this thing called feelings that I can't help but.. feel. For example I feel a lot of resentment even though I know it isn't in my place. It really fucking bothers me that nobody picks me anymore. I don't want to be third, I want to fucking be number one. Don't pretend you're trying to protect me when we both know that this shows just as much about you as a shit person as it does about me. Seriously though, aren't you a little old to be this scared to be alone? So fucking dodgy. I swear I've seen this all before. Everybody is the same person and I am sick to death of it. I don't know what I'm doing here. My youth is running on an infinite loop of stupidity and cowardice.


whether you're looking for corruption or a saviour

as if you knew me

If you think of me, I'll think of you

dripping with alchemy

Everything feels so strangely far away. Time moves so quickly here, as do you. And I. The above are the adventures of not-so-happening people and a quick trip to London for mandatory sight-seeing and generally feeling very awkward. I honestly think it's not that I don't know how to get along with people so much so as I just don't feel comfortable around a lot of them. I used to think it's because I judge people before they get the chance to make their first impression, but now I think maybe I am simply socially inept. To be honest, it's probably because I don't feel the need to mix around because things are annoyingly comfortable. When it's not being weird, of course. I don't know who I am kidding: this cannot end well. This will never not be weird. I flinch every time it comes close to what I think it could be and it makes me feel like the worst person ever because I don't actually feel like the worst person ever. I don't know what's going on with you and how you don't feel like the worst person ever. Maybe some things are better left unsaid but nooooooo, things must always be talked about. Why must things be talked about. So uncomfortable. I don't even know how comforting the fact that no feelings are involved is. Especially since, it isn't even good enough. Hurhur. What am I saying. I just wanna live in my bubble and not think about things and live and let live and what not but as I am #gettingmylifetogether I am forced to think about impractical things like repercussions and what not. Like an adult. Because now I am an adult. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. I can't even say that convincingly. On a brighter note, things in birmz (most random city in the world) has been going surprisingly well. Save for the occasional weasel and the fact that it's too difficult to know who to trust around here. Everybody likes a good story, I suppose. Things just seem to be moving further and further into... our little bubble.


Cos I can't guarantee you'll be the right guy
the next time you want the right woman

setting fire to our insides for fun

Now that I am rid of the disease and my karma for the month, I can think clearly again. This weekend was spent lying through late nights with lots of weird tension and no moves. Not so cute. At some point, I simply couldn't concentrate my vision enough to even look at the words on the screen because my mind couldn't get past the idea of my life and how I screw around with it. I think the first step is to stop painting myself in a bad light, and the second is to actually change my ways. It's harder than you'd think. I've lived like an explosive teen for too long. It's high time I've learnt that at the rate I'm going, I will (probably) regret doing something more than I'd regret not doing it. Two things come to mind. The first time I actually said no to something exciting I questioned myself, but I know that in the long run it's more strategic. Walking away last night was not hard (lol). It's fucked up but I don't feel guilty so much as I feel annoyed and suspicious. Which makes no sense. It's really true that I just need some thing (read: person) to obsess about because quite frankly, most of the first week's thoughts have strangely disappeared. On that note: god you're a fucking bitch. Moving on. This paranoia is not unfounded, I know. It's what I spoke of before - about how feelings never seem to be real and that boys simply wish to conquer and possess me as some sick proof of their manhood. Of course with all these hours spent talking cock and chasing the wind, I'd like to think that somewhere, no matter how fleeting, that some part of that connection and that jealousy is real and is true.. but I know better I guess.


I heard you found out 
that he's doing to you what you did to me
ain't that the way it goes?

I can barely look at you

Leave it 'til the guilt consumes 

I found you in the nearest room.

All our friends were unaware,

most had just passed out downstairs. 

To think I'd hoped you'd be okay, 

now I can't think of what to say, 

maybe I misunderstood.