I think it’s been close to (or more than) two weeks since I last blogged. :O Surprise, surprise!
The fingers on my left hand are hurting from playing the guitar. I haven’t touched the thing since a long time ago (approximately a month). The skin on the tips of the fingers on my left hand look as if I accidentally put them on a hotplate. 
This is what happens when you stop practising. I shouldn’t ever have stopped.
I’m now getting songs by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus since the internet seems to be in my favour today. 
I should really be getting myself an MP3 Player. It’s good for running. I don’t feel as negative when I’m tired and God knows I get tired easily.
I’ve been thinking too much again these few days. It really would depend on how you define “too much” though. Ah heck! Just get ready for a really long post with absolutely no photos because this is a weekday and my Mom didn’t bring the laptop back. 
Lets start with the smaller details, like this obscure thing they call “friends”. I’ve sort of come to a revelation that there’s actually no real point in trusting anyone. If you can’t even expect those whom you call your “friends” or “good friends” not to say things about you behind your back (i.e. bitch), then really, what should you be expecting of them? How much (or little) are we meant to expect? It really astounds me how some most people can find it in themselves to put up a well-rehearsed front before the people they don’t like.
It’s just another form of lying, isn’t it? This beautiful, fabricated sheet. Why do people attempt to hide everything from anyone else? Is it a shame, an embarrassment, a sin to dislike a certain attribute of a person? Why are people so afraid of confrontations? Sure, people scream, people shout, but they go home and they reflect. More often than not, people change for the “better” because of these confrontations. Is it that difficult to have things come out into the open? I’d rather that, than you talking secretly behind my back.
My mind keeps replaying the useless things this one particular person has done. Useless, atrocious crap. I’d really like to tell her how much of an absolute ass she is, but people seem to think that’s really not a wise idea. It spins in me like the filthy clothes in the washing machine. Everytime I think about the lies she tells, the way she exaggerates, how close to a whore she is, how many people she’s disappointed and the stupid things she says, I wish someone would just shoot her down. I try not to hate, I really do try. I wish that I could be enlightened as to how she contributes to this… grand design. Ah well, shouldn’t be saying such things.
In any case, I’ve also been thinking about death a whole lot, especially at night. If I was rich enough, I’d move from the north pole to the south pole and back again once every six months, so that I needn’t see the darkness. It doesn’t scare me per se, just puts me off. I don’t actually fear what comes after death as much as I fear not knowing when I’m going to die. I realise that I cannot plan for it, that I could just die tomorrow, or in a few hours time. It makes me feel wholly unprepared, not knowing how much time I have left. It’s like a project which you just have to keep on doing to your best ability, but you don’t know how long you have to complete it, or when you’re going to present it. What’s more, there seems to be so many criteria for judging that you don’t know which to base it on! As a matter of fact, some don’t even know whose judging.
It’s times like these, where this feeling of harsh uncertainty plagues me, that I begin to understand why kings of the old wanted to find ways to immortality. I often also think about what’d happen if my parents died, or my siblings. I know life would go on eventually, but the point is this. I don’t want them to die. I don’t want a body full of life to be rendered lifeless. I don’t want to cremate that body. I don’t want it.
You never know when it’s going to come. There is no warning. It’s going to come, and you’re going to deal with it whether you like it or not. You’re not going to feel it.
That’s a lot of questions. Some people lack the ability to ask questions. Ack.
