just had a game and i never felt more shittier because to balance it out i had to go over to the stronger team while someone better than me had to come over. we won of course, but i had to leave my friends behind despite dragging them into the game and i don’t know, i just didnt find the strength to play properly after that.

life and decisions eh.

i think somewhere around last year was the time i made the decision to stop loving the way i did and that maybe explains why i’m the sorry wreck of a soul now; i had once loved passionately, irrefutably and it was my character trait and nothing has been the same for me ever since. i do not write with the delicateness of someone who knows the power of love, i don’t emote with the sensitivity of someone who emphathises and i have the literary sensitivity of a cow. i want to rescind that decision today because pain is transcient and in retrospect if to forget the pain on a permanent basis would entail not loving so that i will not know the agony of lovelessness, then i am a stupid nincompoop because that would be escapism. but that break has been permanent, and irrevocable and i m sorry enough to have come up with that decision in the first place. but i will never be the same person i used to be, nor will i ever write elegantly with the soul of a poet who sings, if i ever was in the very first place.

Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
Lives in a dream
Waits at the window, wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
Who is it for?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from ?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong ?

Father McKenzie writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear
No one comes near.
Look at him working. Darning his socks in the night when there’s nobody there
What does he care?

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name
Nobody came
Father McKenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
No one was saved

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Eleanor Rigby – The Beatles

i think essentially i need to let someone tear out my soul let him or her do whatever he wants with it before returning it to me; i’m so bored of myself these days that i can almost scream; how does one live with the consistency of a constant for centuries of days?
——————-

i honestly believe that all incandescence and quicksilver that once resided within me has been evaportated like snow in summer and all that remains are an earthly and barren ground. i’m getting stupider as the clock spins and i wonder if discipline can make everything return.
——————-

there is too much existential angst, but unlike yesteryears i do not have the luxury of consoling myself that i am different; these days i am plain uninspired and dull and i wish i could have something to hold onto other than the hope that life will get better as you go along, and maybe it will. but sometimes being hopeful is the realm of the lazy and i think something’s got to give.

i would like at 3am in the morning to have eirik’s voice because i can croon softly in the witching hour without fear of terrorising anyone in the household; i would like, miraculously, to have my ass shrunk to half my size and along with it my thighs; i would like, by staring at the stars, to have my soul return to me again and somehow, there’s something very appealing to know that there exists in this world someone who can play his guitar beside you in the dark.

i will be 21 soon, and i’m running out of old friends and i suddenly feel very guilty.

koc today and erlend oye was the cutest ever and i mean it in a very straight fashion. it started slowly and alienly, because well, the concert is called quiet is the new loud and not riot on an empty street so the majority of the songs were from their first album. but the few times the latter came out the crowd applauded enthusiatically, which was a tad jarring with the mood of the songs that they played because koc isn’t franz ferdinand, and screaming isn’t the same as quiet thoughtful appreciation of 2am music; 2 am musick would be koc, dire straits, aimee mann, k’s choice, so you get a vague idea of what i mean. that said, ruimin and jinweii were right in that it was an unenergetic concert but erlend saved the day with his snippets and dancing!, oh what dancing it was.

i rather dance with you than talk to you.

cheers too to the security in that while they still had to stick to the guidelines of their job they were flexible enough to ensure that everyone had a good time so on the whole it was a concert well done.

oh, and i saw fiona xie! omg she s how bleeding hot man phwoar pwnage.

joooharieee weendeow

i know this is so..january february but on a sudden impulse la. and i did like to know who comes to my blog anw.

there was once a time where i would cry if i heard a lovely enough song but these days are far and few in between. my literary sensitivity was not what it used to be so maybe that’s why i’m half the man i was; about a year ago i gave it up along with my attachment for other things and i think it’s one of the sacrifices that i won’t hesitate to rescind but there are some things in life that can’t really be taken back no matter how much you regret and this is one of them.

i suddenly feel sad and morose.

a’s were out and i’m truly glad for some people; results are almost usually proportional to effort and it is heartening to know that it’s a rule that sticks true.

and anyway 9 bloody alternate duties in a row is truly ghey; i’m on the 5th already and i feel like what i did when i was mugging for the a’s.

correction, what i should have felt when i was mugging for the a’s.

gonna crash. tata.