Wonder Why I Keep Opening Them...

You know all those stupid Friendster bulletins and chain-mails that claims stuff like it's so true and this and that? Well, I've done a lot of thinking... And I mean A LOT! Here are some questions I really hope someone will help me answer.
1) When you read those mails that say "Oh my god it really works etc etc" and go on to give examples of how this woman fell on her face and died or how a man choked to death on banana skin, don't you ever wonder who writes how they died after they disobeyed they mail IF they're really dead? I really don't want to touch the subject of (the non-existent) ghosts.
2) When the whole mail is filled with stories about all those examples, can you just delete those examples and forward the remaining parts because basically if everyone obeyed the chain-letter in the first place all those examples won't be there right?
3) Is there like a "Chain-Letter Handbook" that determines what parts can and can not be deleted? If it does exist then who wrote it?
4) Is there really anybody out there who seriously believes in chain-letters? Like seriously! Oh wait, so many people believe in ghosts that anything is possible... (=_=")
5) What if I'm a really slow reader and by the time I finish reading the whole mail, the given time period to forward those mails is already up? Does it count as I disobeyed or those the whatever all-mighty force guiding and giving punishments understand the difficulties of slow readers?
6) How do you press F6 back in the days when you don't have a computer or the internet? You know... those mails always say "Press F6 afterwards and the name of your crush will appear on the screen bla bla bla".
7) Those mails always say if you send it or don't send it, something good / bad will happen at midnight and shit like that. Well, to tell you the truth, I usually sleep at 10pm or maybe 11. What happens then? Does the crush that was supposed to confess to me suddenly get a light bulb moment and decide to call me at a more godly hour or do I miss the chance of my life?
Dang, I need some answers quick!

I'm Like A Cat!

I hate cats.....
Thoughts I'm having right now about going to uni.
What if I hate the people there?
What if I hang out with this group of people on arrival (you know how new schools are, you meet new people and get yourself into a clique bla bla) and realise later that I hate them?
By then it'd probably be too late to change groups, right?
What if nobody in my class likes playing DDR and Percussion Master?
What if my new friends don't appreciate lame jokes?
What if they're uptight I-only-wanna-study stereotypical medic students?
Oh my god, I already hate those people there. What if I hate the surrounding? I'll run all the way back to my house!

Can you imagine how much worse I'll be when it's actually time to go there?

Revelation!!!

I stole a box of cigs from Jac to make her quit smoking (partly helping her to cut down) and that box has been lying around in my room for quite some time so just now I was really really bored out of my boards so I thought why not take a drag? And I did. And here are a few things I found out.
First is that people say smoking takes your mind away from things because well, with one hand holding the death-machine and the other hand waving futilely to get the smoke out of your face, you don't really have much time to think about most stuffs.
Two, for the inexperienced nose, the smell of burning smoke smells exactly like a piece of paper that's burning.
Lastly, the only reason it relieves stress is because between the waving and the thinking how all that smoke is filling up your lungs and bringing you closer to death mile by mile, you kinda realise you're not that significant in this world after all.
So all I have to say is do what you want, just don't make me waste my energy waving your toxic release out of my face.

I Sailed My Ship of Safety Till I Sank It

Oh my god. This is depressing.
Everybody is going their ways doing what they should be doing and gaining new experiences and living their lives. What am I doing?
Waiting.
For what?
Nothing. Half a year from now I'd still be living in Malaysia and I'll still be the same as I was yesterday. Well, maybe I'd be a little more pessimistic and skeptic and depressed on the whole but nothing else will change. Can my insides get any more dark and twisty than they are now?



The less I seek my source for some definitive, the closer I am to fine.

I Lost

I woke up on the morning of Sept 10th and felt there was something missing. I picked up my phone and realised it was a piece of my heart that I won't reunite with for another a year.
Tonight, I shall go to bed knowing full well that when I wake up tomorrow, another piece of my heart shall be halfway across the world.

We lose so much of ourselves each day that I'm amazed we're still breathing.... and when we put our palms over our chest, I'm surprised to feel something beating inside.
I started this page because I was heart broken that Mae left for Russia.
I still am. Yet at the same time, I'm not. Maybe this means I've grown up?
Isn't growing up a part of breaking hearts? Or is it the other way around?
Both occurrences happen so often that it's hard to differentiate one from the other. Do we leave because we love? Do we love because we leave? Do we hurt because love leaves? Do we hurt because love stays?

What now? Where do we go from here? Han's mom said that at our age, we're at a T-junction with a "No U-Turn" signs blinking in the neon-lit sky. We can turn left or right but we can't ever go back. Her words put me in an awkward position because she voiced the innermost fear I've had for the past few years.
What do we do when we can't go back? Not "if", because this is no longer a mater of probability. We're passed that stage 3 light years ago. Now we're like bed-ridden seniors lying on the bed just waiting for the inevitable death to arrive. Only we're the reverse of them. We're reluctant teenagers standing in line waiting for life to begin.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day.  Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel.  None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch.  And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones.  And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

 -- Elizabeth Bishop