what is ology?

I bought this book called 'The Psychology Book' about a little more than a year ago. It just stood on my shelf, never have I turned a single page of it, until early this week that is.

Freud, Wundt and salivating dogs.

Yaohh :D

End it.

Have you ever held a pack of cigarettes in your hand?
I have.

Have you ever held a cigarette between your lips?
I have.

Lighting it up, breathing it in?
Stick after stick, ashes to ashes, smoke up in the air, tar down your lungs.

Why do I do it?

How's life?

It's like every day that I make it alive is a blessing by itself.

Guess who's broke?

A few weeks back, I was contemplating to breaking the law just to make a few extra bucks. A friend of mine hit me back with reality, so nothing actually went down.

But the fact still remains valid, I is so so broke. Might sell off one of my kidneys. Problem is, I don't know how to. My laziness to find out is probably the reason why my left renal artery still has a function.

Amidst my broke-ness, I bought a box of cigarettes a couple of weeks back. Big mistake. A week later, I bought another one. Life has been stressful lately, and no soul in sight to pour my words. I bought another stick yesterday, Dun-hill, smoked it from my balcony.

I have to stop. This is not me. It's not that I don't smoke. I don't mind smoking, but I don't want this to become a habit. Once it becomes a habit, it defines me. Like if someone were to ask, hey who's he? And someone else goes like, ''Oh, you know, he's a smoker.'' -ish something like that. Nope nope nope.

Gotta lay off all these tobacco for a few weeks to get it out.

Yaohh :D

?Poop

When's the last time you've discussed poop?

Yeah, poop. The stuff that comes out of your butt. Comes in all shapes and sizes, different colours different textures. Shit, exactly.

Now one of the common questions in a medical history is the fecal report. The texture, consistency, frequency and colour of the stool can tell a lot about a person's health and any diseases that may be present. 

But ask yourself again, when's the last time you've actually discussed poop? Ever asked someone about their fecal passage with confidence and compassion. Now, that's no dialogue that just pops up in a usual social interaction, but it is undeniably common in the medical setting. 

Asking questions that are unusual are a challenge. Some people have been sent behind bars for the nature of the questions they have raised, or in some cases, the way those questions are phrased. Usually, in any conversation, prioritizing the privacy and the compassion of the person who is being questioned is crucial, so it's up to the questioner to be the best questioner they possibly can.

Questions. Questions everywhere. I have a question I'd like to ask myself - how did I end up agreeing to go to prom? 

Couldn't say no. There were a bunch of friends from the batch that apparently were so riled up about the fact that some us from the batch decided not to go for the annual ball. Personally, I have no interest in attending balls or proms or gala dinners that cost 10 days worth of food for a one night experience. Well, the previous prom I attended wasn't the best of experience for me, albeit I went with the only person I would have gone with, and I know that. And all this while, I've been holding that against me, ruing the whole thing. I guess, it's time to just put all that behind. Time for a fresh experience, one with no strings, just me and my fellow course-mates sending salutations to each other before we separate and follow different paths in our journey to become medical practitioners. ME214, you have my heart.

XOXO,

H.G.

Yaohh :D

New semester, new goals?

A rooster.

Go ahead, imagine one. Describe what you're thinking there.

It has feathers all over, A beak. Skinny legs that are famously compared to upper-body only body builders. Sharp claws. A feathery tail that's confusing as to whether there's actually a tail or it's just all feathers. As well as a five-bagged scrotum sack looking like thing on top of it's head. The crown? Is that what they call it? Scrotum-crown fit for a cock. Hmmm how appropriate.

2 month long holiday just came to an end. New semester is about to begin tomorrow. Holidays this time, though long, didn't hold much for me in terms of getting anything done. I have to admit, I'm not exactly in any sort of euphoric or comfortable state as I'm writing this. The second month in the year has already set a path to what seems to be a potentially rough 2016 (boner-touch, cause you know, touching actual wood has gotten pretty old). 

Grandmother suffered from a heart attack last week, but's she's been doing well and stable since. Rough moment for the family. The dynamics of how I found out that she was having a heart attack was pretty unusual. She came in as a patient in the evening to the local clinic where I was doing my posting at that very time. It's hard to explain what I felt at that time, and for some reason, I feel this guilt.

I've been living in my own shell for too long. Don't get me wrong, I do go outside, I do meet new people every now and then. Yet, I am so very lost. Forgetting things. Forgetting words. Missing a charm I once had for speeches. Have I had some sort of mini-stroke? 

There's this pain

Along with a whisper

Of a solemn prayer

Do no evil do your best

The speech sounds

The pain echoes

Seeping through the thoughts

Of a man that wants to be heard

A man that has lost his words.

She used to call me her eagle, and she my parrot. 

But, am I just rooster?

Yaohh D:

Mak kau jinjang

A square has four sides.
Some would say it has two, it's inside and outside.
Like you, you two-sided douche.
Other's say eight.
Four in, four out.

Well I don't give eight, four or even two hoots about a damn square.
I laik triangles.
______________________________________________________________________________

Hello hello hello and welcome to all the people gathered here today. And when I say all the people I mean just me. I'm sure you're expecting a tantalizing experience here today at the words of The Scribbler. I've had a slow, boring week. Nothing much except dwelling on calls and fixing appointments. Oh so boring. Have I made any effort to be any less boring? Everything I say and talk and type and write seems to put people to sleep. I should get hired to start talking to kids as an alternative to lullabies for bedtimes.

I remember why I hate highways. I don't drive. Phobia. Fears of collisions. Flashes of automobiles fusing and mashing. No I don't drive. Yet, I have the little orange card people seem to posses for legal driving documentation. A license goddamit. Just say you have a damn licence.

Why do I hate highways? There's just too many things on the road. I cycle. Well I used to a lot back then, but I used the low roads. The back alleys. The not highway roads. I like those paths. There's always something new to discover at every new turn. And you can afford to make turns on a bicycle because petrol doesn't come into play. Just pedals and sweat.

I went cycling today, on the bicycle I got a few weeks back. I planned to cycle to the Kepong Metro Park, just in time for the evening kite flyers. I didn't make it. Took three wrong turns and the day reached its dusk. To be honest, I could have gotten there within an hour. An hour would have meant the highway. I was going on the low roads, bypassing the highway before being cock-blocked by a river.

I learnt the hard way, and as much as I refuse to say this, there are some places you can't reach on a bicycle without sucking up to a highway. And I wasn't planning on adding swimming to the daily happenings either.

Fuck you Sungai Jinjang.

Yaohh :D

Braderr...

shhhhhhhhivaaaaa
kamini somaaaaaaa
kanakram shivaaaaaaaaaaaa 
kaminisomakanakram hey! 

So the last few posts went on serious, a little less carefree from my part. Don't know why, I felt like rambling on about something important. Important.... Ever notice it, that the word important actually looks and sounds.....important? Hmmm ughh uno momento, meesa no talko importanto no si no more.

My subconscious narration seems to be taken over by a Mexican Jar Jar Binks. Anyways, I have just returned from a day and night with a good company of friends. Chinese New Year open houses in the mornings, and a surprise (well, kind of a surprise) birthday celebration for Kelvin. Who Kelvin is I have no time of writing here. You might as well assume he's a measurement unit for temperature.

But like the measurement unit of temperature which is important in the measurement world, Kelvin is important to me. Ughh meesa usa importanto word again si senor meesa no hear no more mucha. Shut your shit-hole Jar Jar.

I came across a quote a few weeks back. I think it was on 9gag but I might be wrong. There's the common saying ''Life's too short''. I never saw the irony in that statement before. Life's too short? ''Life, is the longest thing anyone can ever experience'' - that's the quote. Hmmm yeah, life is never put on pause, nor is it ever gone on repeat mode or re-winded or brought into fast forward. It happens all the time. Yet, I guess I only remember it every now and then when I stop for a second and actually think about life. Meesa thinks yousa waste a lot of time si thinking about life than living yousa life.

Damn you Jar J.... hey, that's not entirely wrong at all. Si si mucha gracious meesa gotta go now bai bai.

Hopefully that's the last of him. Anyways, there are people in my life I'm grateful for. So, here's three cheers to Erwin. Who Erwin is I have no time of writing here either. You might as well assume he's Erwin Schrodinger, holding a cat hostage to prove a point.

But like Schrodinger, the Erwin I know is one determined hell of a guy. And every now and then, life hits a little harder on him. And in that every now and then, I've seen him pick himself back up time and time again.

So two great friends of mine. What have they enlightened me with? Life, actually. Haha the true story there is much darker in tone than I would ever possibly admit. Hola senor, meesa thinks yousa should staph.

Eh bitch, who the fuck gave you a return ticket?

Apart from the hostility with the real menace from The Phantom Menace, I feel good. Just fine. Being sad and quiet and lonely and self-loathing is easy, but it takes effort for someone who has been all that to become a much more loving person. It's not easy to be happy, so work on it.

Work, bitch.

Yaohh :D

The search is over?

The concept of a supreme being was one I understood and accepted as a child. I was born a Hindu. Though I never learned the manthra and read the texts of Hinduism, my family practised it nevertheless. All I understood back then was that there were a lot of deities, and each one of them represented a part of life that I should pray to receive blessing. There was education, finance, love, strength, etc. And my family doesn't consume beef and pork. Beef cause of religious reasons and pork simply because we never had the habit of eating it. There was a general understanding that pork was considered dirty, which correlates to Islamic beliefs.

I lost most of my faith in religious belief when I was 15. My grandfather passed on, and I was struck with a bolt of reality. It was the first major death I had to face in my life, and I found myself a little reckless and less defined by my past belief as time went on. By the time I left school, I had no spiritual connection at all.

I saw science as the way to go. Science made sense to me. Science was concrete and presented itself with proof. Science felt promising to me. I had dreams to invent, dreams to produce something from concepts that I could learn from the world. I felt inspired by the things I read in school textbooks. Scientist interview videos on the internet. New discoveries, fascinating possibilities were simply amazing to hear.

On my 20th year of life, I was a confused soul. I lost a bit of my interests in the science world. Not because I did not believe. You can't not believe something that's there with solid proof. I was confused, trying to make of my own understanding of the world. Am I actually in the right track? Do I not need faith in God? Are all those religions out there, are they true?

I explored the existing religions around me. Malaysia is one diverse place in terms of that, we have Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, Hindu, Taoism, Sikhism, all in sizable communities. Since it was easily accessible, it was easy to find out about them. So you could say, I went on a survey of sorts on finding the truth.

My basis of this was, because there was a lot of hate going around. People felt protective of their religions and defended them against others. There was an air of tension that very little people addressed. Actually, a part of me thought that the issue began because an unnecessary issue had been addressed unnecessarily.

I met a lot of new people, made many friends. They were willing to talk about their beliefs, with no prejudice to what mine were. At times, I felt like a hypocrite and a fake. I thought to myself, I'm pretending to agree to what they belief in, I really don't believe it. After a while, I realized, I don't have to believe what people believe in to understand and accept what they believe in. The concept of beliefs are individual, and if we go around trying to scrutinize people just because they don't believe in the same things as us, the world's going to be a terrible place to live in.

So here I am, accepting that I will not be able to commit myself to any doctrine I've come across so far. I have to be sure of this, because it is something I've been struggling with for quite some time. I've taken the time for research and discussion, maybe not enough but I conclude, to myself and for no one else, that I will do life through my own beliefs. I accept others for what they believe in, and I have no obligation to make them doubt their belief or reject it. If you truly believe it, be happy and free in doing so.

I watched a YouTube video on Neil deGrasse Tyson yesterday. He spoke about how the universe has much to offer and that we have barely scraped the surface. I'm no close to becoming an astrophysicist like him, but the way he presented himself and the way he speaks of what he believes, of what motivates him, brought back a long lost feeling of excitement and eagerness to learn.

Do what feels right to you, and the world will be alright.

Yaohh :D

Well, fuck you.

Well, fuck you.

.........

..............

..................

Yeah, that's all there is to this post actually. Just felt like saying that.

Yaohh :D

Meesa back

It's been quite some time since I wrote. Why?

Well, I think it's because I figured nobody was reading this blog anyway, so why bother? It's not like it's doing any good, nor does it make any reasonable impact.

But somehow it did. In those weeks of typing out and posting my thoughts and rants, I actually felt better about things. About people. About myself. I felt free. I felt that I have a secret that I'm not embarrassed about, yet nobody knows it.

Well, duhh a secret ain't no secret if somebody knows *insert sorority freshman voice here*

So what have I done with life since this sabbatical? Sabbatical.... I think that's the first time I've used that word. Not entirely sure if it's even in the right context here. New semester is about to start in less than three weeks and I've just finished printing my notes and submitting my elective report. But I don't want to talk about that. I don't feel like talking about that.

Not my actual bicycle.
Actual product is less animated. Did not come together with pictured brunette either.

What's new? I have a new bicycle. Not many people know about it, and I like it like that. It was love at second sight. Second because another bicycle came in between but then I realized I couldn't afford that one so I took another look at this one and the rest was, as they say, a story of boy meets bicycle.

I've only rode it two, maybe three times so far. I'm just waiting to bring it to my apartment so I can cycle in the park in the evenings, or even to other places *wink wink*

Other places... You'd think I was talking about like underground, dark alley, nobody goes there kinda places. No. You go to a strip club to see some bicycle action, not bring an actual bicycle there. No man, you just don't do that. No bruh.

What I wanted to do was to learn how to drive. But I made the mistake of telling too many people about that. See, that's a mistake on my part. I've realized the more people I inform of my intentions, people that I have no reason to inform to, the more likely I'm not going to do whatever I preached in the first place. It's like some sort of laze-mechanism, like you feel half the job is done just because you've told someone. It's the root behind every procrastinator out there. I don't want to go there. I have too much on line now. There's no turning back. All there is, is to straight ahead, will full force and might, nothing less yet everything more.

Yaohh :D

Le' Jade

I made it. I don't know how, but I made it.

The Scribbler just made it through his exams.

It wasn't the best of results but I am glad. Truly. To further elaborate exactly why I was worried, we have to dwell into my superstitious beliefs. 

For starters, I am an advocate of calling bullshit on anything superstitious. You should also note down that I have been involved in several misunderstandings and offending situations regarding the questioning and rebuttals of certain superstitions or beliefs, which in those cases happen to be connected religiously. Because lets face the fact that most religions and cultures bring along a handful of beliefs that would be considered as superstitions to any non-believer. 

That being said, I am living a journey of a search for peace within. Trying to make sense of what I want to believe and what is true out there for me to seek. And I'm no different from anyone by doing this. A lot of people do, and I believe everyone should. Believe what you want to believe, but let others believe what they want to too. 

So yeah, superstitions. I believe in signs. Believe is a strong word for it actually. You know, like signs. Foreshadowing something. The one I have is regarding this jade I wear around my neck. 

My jade wishes it can be like this jade, but looks about the same I guess.
Maybe mine's a little karat'e la....
Lil' bitch.

I don't recall how I first started wearing the jade. A vague memory brings me back to a trip in Singapore when I was young, can't recall the age, where I may have found it at a toy store. It was on a shelf, not too high since I remember being able to reach for it. It wasn't on sale, It looked like someone had left it there. I remember it was attached to a red string. Next thing I knew, it became a part of me.

The jade stayed on all the time. During my showers, sweats, sleeps, sports, everything. It never once came off. Except one day in 2010. 

It fell off while I was just casually walking. I admit, I did find it a little odd but I just concluded that old strings do wear off eventually. I just fixed the string and put it back on. My grandfather passed away the next day. 

That was the first time it fell off. I didn't think much of it. Then came 2012, I was about to go out to prom. I had a new suit. Pocketsquare.Hair brushed back neatly. 2 tickets and a beautiful date ready. And then the jade fell off. I tied it back on my neck, went to prom and lost my date to some other dude.

Boo hoo. Nevertheless, it's one of the memories I hold dearest to my chest organs. 

Aaaaaaaand now we come to the point why this post actually started in the first place. Yeah so, the jade fell off my neck the morning I was supposed to take my final exam. You could understand my worries, I even developed a massive headache as I was doing the exam. I wasn't feeling confident at all once it ended. The omen that surrounded the outcome of the exam wasn't a nice one. Yet, the results were fine. Nothing bad happened. Everything was.....good.

So that means this jade conundrum is just a bunch of poppy-cock right?

....right?

Yaohh :D

Snow

Eh you know ah?

Know what?

Know snow.

Snow? What snow?

You know nothing, Jon Snow.

What?

Shaddap la.
__________________________________________________________

So, I grew up reading those Enid Blyton's collections of short stories. Mind me, I thought her name was Grid Bluton, and that she was a man. Don't blame me, her signature was a little hard for my young self to process.

In some of those stories, the backdrop would be in the winter. And there would be snow. I've never experienced snow. All I knew, back then, was that snow would come in the winter. There was one year, when I was very young, I waited for December, hoping to catch a glimpse of snow falling onto my window sill. Alas, I woke up on a Christmas morning to find a morning like any other morning. No snow.


I remember feeling disappointed. Felt betrayed by all the fictional tales about snow. I found it hard to understand when my mother explained that snow doesn't fall in Malaysia.

I got pissed. Lies. All lies. All those books and hours of reading and lies. I marched upstairs and locked myself in my room, set the air-conditioner to the lowest setting and jumped onto the bed. Heck, if I wasn't gonna get snow, I might as well make the room so cold that snow would get me - or so I thought.

I got a scolding the next morning. Apparently I fell asleep, room locked and air-conditioner blasting throughout the whole night. That month's electric bill wasn't very cheap either apparently.

Oh and I got snow alright, in a way.
I got a cold.

Yaohh :D

Eye Candy

What are you afraid of?

Verily it seems like a rhetorical question for a writer to ask to reader. The reader can't possibly answer a question like that in time for any further influence in what the writer is about to share. Maybe it is a premise for the writer to share his own thoughts on the question asked, by asking the question as if intended for the reader to answer. So, which means, the question that should be addressed is..

What am I afraid of?

Photo taken from scaryforkids.com

Fears change over time. For a big part of my life, I was not in favour of horror films. I wasn't a fan of jumpscares, and I didn't like going to bed with an image of a long-haired woman with bleeding eyes. I couldn't go to bed. I'd be troubled by the occasional rustling I believed I heard from under my bed or a whisper beside my ear.

Photo taken from fourletternerd.com

But in that same time of not liking horror movies, I had a constant obsession for slasher movies. Somehow, and I'm trying to make this sound as disturbing as I can, I found myself being very calm as I watched gory decapitations, or a gut-wrenching disembowelment. Was that disturbing? Were you disturbed by my words? I hope you are disgusted. It is noted that The Scribbler almost threw up after reading his own words during the post-edit phase of this post.

I look forward to horror films nowadays, especially if the plot is engaging. I don't feel afraid anymore. In fact, I pray for a dream every night, especially a scary one. There's that rush of adrenaline you get as you wake up from a nightmare. Am I enthusiastic for nightmares because I've lost my source of excitement in other things in life? Maybe. Might be a coping mechanism. I'm not complaining. Sometimes the best of stories lie inside your own mind.

On the NTV7 news, the new anchor is definitely some eye candy for the ummm uhhhh..... the eye.
Oh shut up.

Yaohh :D

Chicken Chops

Snakes. At my door. I knew this day was coming.

I'M TIRED OF THESE MOTHER-FUCKING SNAKES ON MY MOTHER-FUCKING DOOR!

Oh wait, false alarm. It's a couple of sugar-canes tied to the door frame. Happy Ponggal folks.

The following excerpt was written yesterday, while The Scribbler was on board a train heading towards the Putra World Trade Centre.
______________________________________________________________________

So, today was Ponggal Day. If you want to know, it's the day Indian families cook a pot of brown glutinous rice. I forgot what it celebrates. I think it has something to do with the harvest season. I used to know. I forgot. I ask myself why, but I don't bother not knowing. Why? Well, oh well. I just rather enjoy an unusual yet colourful breakfast for all I care.

I woke up at 11. Great dedication to an auspicious day. I've been exhausted very much these past few days. Probably because I was sleeping late, but waking up similarly late does not seem to justify my tiredness.

I had plans. I can't seem to keep to my plans. It's all over the place. Like my mind.

Ever feel like getting a sawed shotgun and just driving two shots into your cranium? Sawed because my hands aren't long enough to hold a shotgun in reverse onto my own jaw. Lucky for my brain, for it has no idea where to get a firearm.

Few Indian and Myanmar residents got into a fight recently. Few Indian people got slashed, one even bled all over the floor in a nearby KFC. I just bought chicken from that same joint on the same day it happened.

Why are they fighting? I don't know. But my money's on it's something quite solvable. But these fellows aren't going to solve anything. They just have a unwritten duty to make the other side feel inferior. These fellows aren't going to sit down and talk.

Maybe, instead of chopping up each other, we could all just sit down in a KFC and eat chopped up chicken. Well, maybe even then a vegetarian, vegan or some blue cross movement is going to condemn that action.

There's no pleasing the world.
So, you might as well please what you think means the world to you.

Yaohh grin emoticon:D

So there's a girl.

It's been exactly a week since I ended my exams. And what has this self-loathing excuse for a teenager been doing? Nothing notable.

Actually I realized the mistake in calling myself a teenager. I haven't been a -teen number since more than year ago. I wish I could say the same regarding my alcohol abuse. Nahh, I'm exaggerating. I do drink, but I don't understand why. I'm not a fan of the taste of whiskey and beer, nor am I an advocate of the morning-after sensation. I don't even binge drink when I'm alone, In fact, I don't binge drink anymore for all that matter. I guess that would mean I've lost some notable friends. Which is true. They're probably binge drinking without me. How does that make me feel? Makes me feel better in the mornings that I'm sure.

Hold on, I seem to wandered off into the section regarding my perceptions through feelings. That's not supposed to happen. That's irrelevant. Feelings are abstract.

So there's this girl. Hmmm sounds like every other story from every other guy. How do I make it unique?

So there's this person who I have concluded is most likely a girl.
.....
.........

Wait, actually, I'm not sure.

So there's this gender-unspecified person who exists. Good job man, you really nailed it on that one. Why thank you, I'd like to dedicate this progress to my fictitious readers. The reader wonders if the author has an impending brain aneurysm. I don't blame you. I get headaches sometimes when I'm alone.

Stories are fantastic. I'd like to tell the world about my stories, but I always found that intention a little obnoxious on my part. So I hold on to them, in hope of finding the right people to tell them to one day.

A few days back, I got a chance to tell one of these stories. Alas, in all that time holding on to them, I felt their meaning got lost. In fact, I wasn't even telling the people the right story when it was the right time.

So, which is the better story - the real story or the better story?

Well, you can see I've made my decision right there.

Yaohh :D

Fries and faps.

So, I'm back. Trust me, even I'm surprised.

The holidays got me rekindling my love for stories, especially those short and sweet Malaysian ones. My favourite Malaysian book has got to be Amir Muhammad's Rojak, a collection of Malaysian short stories, some maybe real, some hardly but nevertheless  each a tasty bit for the reader. I remember getting inspired to write my own stories after reading that book, and I did write like five. And yes, all of them have never been published and are secured in my iPad, though I doubt using secure and an Apple product in the same sentence is doing any justice to past relevant happenings, or should I say, fappenings.

Oh dear me, did he just say fap? Itu haram. Haram jadah,

Anyways, I managed to revive an old hard disk from a laptop I fried back in 2013. I'm no American, so fried in this sense doesn't involve a grill and a boiling pot of oil. Back in 2013, I learnt that you shouldn't touch the motherboard with your bare hands. Humans have something called static charge, and that charge is well enough to fry off your laptop if you don't ground it first. So that happened, but the hard disk was just laying there until recently. I managed to restore quite a number of things, photos and documents dating ages back. So I got that going, which is nice.

Here's one of the photos I got back. Gosh my hair looked so soft back then. So soft.
So.
Soft...

                       

The shades in that picture are no longer in existence. Well, they're probably spending it's last days in some dumpster. Broke them during a hiking trip when I almost broke my guitar and my leg as well. You'd think that would have happened during the hike, but no. I fell off a car. It's a long story. Nope, that was a lie. The story's pretty short. But I'm not telling you anyway. You can go interview the neighborhood cat on it's feelings about this matter for all I care.

Yaohh :D

Balls

So, here we are.

Markedly obese since the last time I wrote anything on a blogspot. Markedly older too.

So this is 2016. Duhh. The year just began and I'm expecting a massive heartbreak about to punch me right in the face, currently lurking around the corner waiting for the best moment. Balls. Pure balls.

To be honest, I'm not really sure why I'm actually typing all these. Like most things I do, I think I just do them and find the meaning afterwards. Trust me, don't do that. Don't be that. I'm trying not to. Trying not to be me. Emo alert. Shut up. Shuttity up all of you.

Anyways yeah, so blogs. What am I supposed to write in blogs? What I've experienced every day? What I want to do with my life? Should this be like some guide/how to website to teach something? Or must I write essays filled with metaphorical texts targeted at the people in my life so that they can know what's going on in my head even when my head is nowhere near them in a geographical distance? Is that it? Maybe. Don't know. Balls.

Oh well for starters, I'm guess I'm writing this so I'd remember. Since the beginning of the last days of my mandatory schooling days (mandatory schooling days.....I say that like I'm disgusted, I'm not), I've been having trouble remembering what happens. Remembering dates, things I've done, felt, people I met, just almost everything. With that being said, you can flip a coin to whether I'd even remember that I wrote this.

Well so that's that. 2016. A leap year. One extra day to fuck up. Or hopefully, not to.

Yaohh :D