10:59 p.m. - 2012-03-19
it has to end the end has an end
Hello Diaryland, it's me again.
Sorry I've been away so long. When you know that I haven't come back, it either means I have found happiness or I have lost my voice to write.
So this time that I'm back, which is it? Depression or newfound voice?
Newfound Glory! Hallelujah!
I kid, i kid.
As i usually do, with disconnected random sentences.
Anyway, i'm 32 already this year. It has been 8 years since the "incident". Other than worrying about that, i wonder how my time has passed.
I'd hate to look back at my life when I'm 50 and see that I have been living with disgust at myself and a fear of interacting with people.
i want to live bravely and talk freely and express myself. Gawddammit is it so hard to live?
It's not. So why are you complaining and living in your doldrums?
i'm not.
Tomorrow i shall work and be merry!
Find stupid things to write about.
Be naturally childish and nonsensical.
Build my walt disney wonderland with sentences and swear words.
Be bold and stupid.
Drink diesel.
Wear the jeans.
And fold up the hems.
Nobody does it now.
But let's start a war.
On nuclear war.
And dance on aircraft carriers.
Moving islands of metal and ammunition.
A Singapore island man-made of dead limbs and moneyed dreams.
pretending to be artistic.
yapping like a dog.
wagging my tail.
happy patter
tiny strides
white
fur
f
