I go out every night, sleep all day.

Listening to Stereophonics makes me a really depressed person.

I had a nap just now. I dreamt of Sheryl S. I haven't been in contact with her ever since the last time I saw her at zouk last year. And I dreamt of her. Surprise surprise.

I do not like to whine. And neither am I a good commiserator. I am a neophyte when it comes to consoles and showing sympathy, not that I don't empathise because I know I am sensitive. I must say, these past few months have slowly trained me into somewhat a person walking alongside with quietus when it comes to my emotions and feelings. I may be afraid to show, I may be afraid to trust anyone. The fact is, I don't think I trust anyone close to me. I find strangers more trustable which I share some of my slightly deeper thoughts with; they can't hurt me any way. They can't betray me because they will never be bothered to judge me. This same piece of sky we are all living under, should be a better place if no one is judgemental at all, where everyone sees everything with closed eyes, an open heart, and an open mind. Tell me that I am correct please.

I can't stand girls. I can't stand those rainy days' emotions flips, and tantrums thrown randomly. I feel so trapped in this house full of women, women with traditional and conventional thinking. So the loss of my iPod is a big trauma for me. I can no longer build my own world, with only myself and whoever that is singing, whatever melody that is ringing, whatever that makes utmost sense to me. I must say all men are subconscious sadists who enjoy chasing and inviting troubles. Not to say I ain't one, because I am worse than trouble. I am someone who's like you - men.

Which is why I wear jeans and converse sneakers. I need to get my job so that I can break free from whatever. And prove the world wrong, which includes those who claim relation and love. Understand that when you love someone, you would not speak intentional cynicism to bring him/her down. Words are scars made flesh. So think twice before those little noises flow out of at the corner of your carelessly drooping lips.

I miss Wenny though.