Depressing uttering

I was seriously drowning out in work and wasting electricity on lights, fans and computers everyday till 4am. I sleep thinking about work, I wake thinking about incomplete work, I take the bus thinking about the work I can do next... I work WoRk woRk worK DroWn DrOwn DroWn droWn Work DrowN.

No time to blog. No time to indulge. No time to think. No time to sort out what I'm thinking. Panick. Worry. No time No time.

And the wierd things is, the more I try to cut out time from other things for work, the more I drown out in no-timeness and the more suffocating work gets. Work can simply swallow up every other thing and there's never enough time.

What does work swallow up? Everything that was once meaningful; memories that once meant much; thoughts that once deserved attention; people who once meant something. I remembered a fleeting thought about why acknowledging God is not a crutch for the weak, but I did not spare it much attention. I remembered enjoying myself in the greenhouse, pollinating orchids and looking at pitcher plants proudly shown by its excited post-grad owner, but a grey emptiness masks it. Happy moments leave an empty vacuum when no one shares it. I remember little of those moments that I was excited about because there's little significance in things which are only significant to me. Who would bother?

Now I see. Work consumes me. Suddenly, I'm cut off from the world. Suddenly, it doesn't matter that I exist. It doesn't make a difference, does it? Maybe it'd be better if I weren't here, as a nuisance who has to shove things off and turn irresponsible because of the Work which consumes everything.

On a depressing morbid note, if I were to disappear, I'd perhaps create a little ripple that shakes everything and everyone around me but for a miniscule portion of eternity, and fade away as an insignificant misty memory.

I made choices. I confined my world to myself. The flip-side of having no-strings attached anywhere is to be alone.

No time? I have an unnecessarily degratory and overly-pessimistic view of things? Rubbish?

This dark depth and morbidity is surreal in my reality and yet is reality in the surreal.


Simple-reality-thought-of-the-day:
They get scary when you start fitting them into your steoreotype. And nobody is a stereotype.

More on Firsts.

First Retro Party I've ever attended
(Courtesy of bday gal Jen Jen :) )

Party was really FUN :) haha. How should I put it. Jen's pals were really game for retro-ing out and came in all sparkles, scarves, sunglasses and colours of the 60s and 70s. hahaha. Plenty of action and sabo-ing under pink and blue lights that bathed the place. (Nah, wasn't part of the action... Me is not exactly the hip and happening type but I like to indulge in the atmosphere together with my other buddies. It was seriously fun and entertaining to sap in ze atmosphere.)

Buffet foodie was yummilicious, so was the choco-cake with delightful textures and crispy bases.

Funnest part of the celebration? Photo-taking! muahaha. If I can figure out whether I can and will, I might just stick some pics up. No promises. I'm turning blog-dead (ie. I'm blogging less and less and less... ...)

Firsts.

Firsts.

Part I -- First time: Stolen handphone.
Bugis junction is a dangerous place with many hp pickpockets. Or... there could be a main pickety-pockety culprit, or a syndicateful of them. Watch out. 2 of my other friends have had similar experiences. Some sly slob of a guy (Don't know why I think it's a guy) unzipped the smaller compartment of my bagpack and whisked my hp away. Nobody noticed anything until I wanted to sms my friend. Tada, POCKET OPEN! The usual procedures follow: emptying of bag, getting your friend to call your phone, and realising that your phone has been switched off. (Similar procedures were applied in circumstances during which my friends' hps were stolen.) When the hoo-haas are over, the next step would be to suspend ze SIM card.

*Watch your belongings at bugis junction!!! Especially when it's getting crowded at the MRT station... and when everyone's squeezing their way up the escalators....*

Part II -- First time: Sprained Foot
I have never sprained my foot before. Sprained fingers and toes in the days of my younger youth while playing ball and bobbing down the stairs hazardously (respectively). Today, I didnt even do anything dangerous. I simply walked down a step. And I have no idea how my foot ended up in the wrong position and how my body weight dealt ze blow to my foot. I crumpled and fell down. (And nobody came to my rescue.) After some struggling, I finally got to my feet and hobbled somewhere to sit down. I thought it didn't hurt that much. But the dizziness and nausea hit me for no good reason. What was that??? Nause and dizziness together with sprain? DUh, doesn't fit. SO I popped one mentos into my mouth, felt like puking more and just crouched in misery for a few moments. When it's all done and over, I hobbled to get a cab and made it home.

Part III -- First time: Stolen hp followed by sprained foot.
Sprained my foot. No hp to call for help to tell the respective people that I can't make it to school. Don't have contact numbers of the people I need to get in touch with.

To the guy who stole my phone:
Too bad for you that my lousy 3100 has spoilt vibration and spoilt LCD screen. The only thing that's precious to me are those contact numbers and messages. Bet they don't mean much to you anyway. Give up your life of theft la. Mabbe you can be a busker and perform magic shows like "The hp disappearing Act". Just turn over a new leaf la. Get a job at a hp shop and offer your knowledge of handphones which will be appreciated.