sometimes i ponder the purpose of writing posts like these. maybe it's just stuff we don't want to keep inside, especially when we're all on the verge of exploding under the constant strain of self-expectation and delusion. it's a perpetual issue, this exploding phenomenon.

writing doesn't solve problems. like doing math questions, you can't just do the calculations in your head. it's just a side solution, one that can bridge the gap between the seeker and the treasure. it doesn't mean things will work out, not even slightly.

at times you write because you can't find any physical solution. words present a different reality, a warped one which all things change according to your swings of mood and action.

an alternative pathway to solace perhaps. because sometimes there's no one to talk to, not one that truly understands how you feel. its a funny statement, this about feeling. because feeling doesn't really exist in any form, just an emotion that comes and goes. and if it's a really unlucky day, it'll stick in like a sharp pin that won't go away. at least not for the day. and you'll really like to shout it out loud, scream the lungs out, yet with the sinking feeling, that no, it won't go away.

knowing that something is just beyond reach, something so far away you can't see it. yet letting the hope flicker, burn itself into a roaring flame, such that it destroys everything inside. hope, that so stings and burns and hurts. it's all in the mind, it's all an illusion created by false delusions of the mind.

Talk about being decisive. Guitar and driving both settled within the space of an hour. Disgustingly fast. I'm not honestly certain whether I made the right decisions; I've already committed three terrible ones this year, and it's not even Feb.

Guitar was for.. something pertaining to university life. Never musically inclined, it has been a regret that seldom rears it's ugly head. Piano should have been a platform to perservere, but it didn't. Tried to catch on the xiao ride, but missed the boat. That image of Huang Yaoshi, majestic in the sea breeze, floating upon the waters in his.. of his own world. Now it's just strumming the guitar to the beat of my heart.

Third half-fuck post in a week. Next one will be longer I swear.

Not being fair to myself.. is this up to those around me to decide, or myself. Shouldn't I be the one to care more, to even care at all. Can anyone see my situation more clearly than me, to know what exactly is happening, to feel what's in my heart and mind. Who can judge for me? Various questions turned statements with no answer.

Fair to myself. Giving myself the chance, giving others a shot. Not wasting my youth, or whatever that is left of it. Especially since the other party isn't interested.

This is dragging way too long, and it's affecting me quite badly. I feel used, like a rag used for the dishes and then tossed to one side.

Do I need to stoop so low?

It was this day that I was in an M113, trying to make a phonecall to someone who mattered. Twelve months have passed, and the situation in the big picture remains largely unchanged.

Twelve months is a long time.

I've been feeling rather down lately. Mostly it's the Deathnote effect; I can't get a particular scene out of my head. The picture of L living his last moments, finally laying down in that fetal position he always adopts, except now it's forever. And as he drops his trademark candy bar, his hand rests on the photograph of Watari.

It's just very depressing. It transcends the fact that L is my favourite character, and that his quirks and small actions are little more than useless decorations on a colourful figure. I loved this part with all my heart, and hated it to the core. Why must L have feelings? Why must he show human tendencies at the very end, when he was the victorious loser, the king of a world dying under the sun.

"You must have been a great father." Oh I can't bear the weakness in his voice. Someone please kill me.

He is L. He is the genius detective who conquered Light. Why must he have feelings, someone please tell me why.

Maybe it's also because I've sort of formed 'the strongest team'. Not the best, but certainly among the elite. And with my transfer dealings all gone through, I have forsaken myself. The attack is now so loaded I can barely squeeze in, and the ultimate purpose, to create a team which I can enjoy playing with, is gone I fear.

I can't play anymore. Can't take it lightly now that it's upon me.


JX XI. But it doesn't have a Jx.