To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "Macbeth", Act 5 scene 5

Kinda much describes my current situation. All these words of anger, passion, fury, prejudice, disdain and pathetic, it just boils down to that one simple line, it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. Yup it has come down to this, I have nothing to talk about.

Note: A brief respite for me to be inspired.

Damn. I just don't know what to write anymore. Its just that I got so many thoughts I must sort out. Sort of like a spring cleaning kinda thing. I just want to rest and not do anything for a week.

Somehow, things just seem as surreal as usual. I am gonna take SAT II, hopefully I can go somewhere far away with that. But isn't that like running away all over again? Isn't that like just picking up and going when everything becomes really bad?

Well, I have been running. I always have been running, unable the face the reality that is before me. I've ran from my problems, and I've ran from facing my problems. And the fact that I run from my problems is an inescapable problem in itself. I have been running, somehow, I can never escape that problem.

But I have been running for 3 months and 13 days. And I am still running. Whoever said you can never run away from your problems have never run far enough, long enough, hard enough or just enough. Reality is just left so far behind that I don't need to acknowledge it anymore. And somehow for a brief moment throughout my run, I can perhaps just pause for breath, before I keep running again. Somehow, it seems like I am avoiding myself. But the more I run, the more I avoid myself, and the less I have to face my own pathetic self. I'll just keep running to the ends of the world. Keep on running away from a reality I can't change.

People who suck are those who are suppose to get 1600 to impress some girl but only get a miserable 1100 plus plus for SAT. Hehe...

I am feeling guilty. Half of the week my e-mail inbox ends up stuffed with useless spam and other such rubbish. The other half of the week, there are unanswered e-mails. Not that my friends happen to e-mail me much, but I would appreciate it if I heard from some of them.

What is the Matrix?

Am sorta looking forward to watching The Matrix Reloaded. Come to think of it, sounds more like, Windows XP Rebooted. But anyway The Matrix has this very cool idea of everything being so real in an unreal world, which sort of got me thinking about choices and all that. Would you live in an imaginary world, where everything was so real that you could not even tell the difference? With that said, then what makes something real, and something else not real?

Reminds me of a story. A long time ago, there was this girl who fell in love with this charming young guy. But she knew that this guy would never return her love for reasons which are so completely out of the story I would not want to elaborate. She could only love him from afar and know she could never be close to this guy. So one night, while she was sleeping, she dreamt that this guy also fell in love with her, and that they were living happily ever after and so forth and a lot of other mushy stuff.

But then she woke up from this dream. She cried and cried because it was such a beautiful ideal dream, and that it was only a dream, and that the truth was this guy still did not love her. Then a fairy pitied her and came to her. The fairy told her, "I can give you a choice now. I can let you go back to this dream, and keep on dreaming about this wonderful dream, where you and this guy are so in love, where world peace is achieved and everything is a utopic state, but after seven days, you will die. Or you could choose to wake up from this dream, and when you do, you would lose this dream forever."

And so the girl thought about it. And so the girl chose. She chose to dream.

Song for the moment: Last Resort - Papa Roach

I know its all drums, banging, shouting and screaming, but then that's how it goes in my head too and I can't get it out.

I seem to be doing a lot of recollection. This must mean that a lot of time has passed, and I am but an old grumpy person, sitting down and complaining about things that have come to past to whoever who would just bear me an ear to listen.

Last weekend, I was walking around the neighbourhood I stayed/inhabited/was imprisoned in. It was a pretty posh neighbourhood, there were all decently large houses that all had their own unique architectural design and enough cars to satisfy me. I guess I am easily satisfied after seeing that black Mercedes SL300 parked there. Nonetheless it was a rich neighbourhood, where some houses had swimming pools, and that the driveway was bigger than my own house, and that well, I felt very poor suddenly at the awe and majesty of the houses there. But then, I was kinda revolted by the fact that some houses were so badly designed that it was a pure waste of money. I'm sure they had money to waste, but to live in houses like that, it was close to a disgrace. But never mind that, that wasn't the point of this post.

The thing that got me thinking was that all these houses had one thing in common. That was all had high solid wall fenced around them. The first impression I got was, hey, that looks like my prison!. It is one thing to live in a rich neighbourhood, but then with fences that are ten feet high and solid brick walls, it sort of makes you wonder who the occupants are and what do they do in there. It also makes you wonder, do these people like to live behind cold walls and bars that sort of occlude your view of the people around you? Perhaps a home is more of a refuge now, a hole where you can run away from the insanity of the world. Hence the high walls to keep out intruders and prying eyes like mine.

But it was rather intimidating to walk around that neighbourhood. There was this cold eerie silence on a beautiful Saturday morning, and the houses look sad and empty. And I feel that way too. And when I see those high walls, I think to myself, are those there to keep me out or keep them in?

Yesterday, I was about to sit down and do a quiet normal everyday post, when I just happened to be rudely interrupted by a person.

This person just came along, chattering as fast as possible, making it very impossible to stick to one train of thought and come up with an entirely original post on the Internet. This person could speak so fast that it sounds almost like a tape recorder that's played at twice the speed and a higher frequency. Furthermore this person came along only to quickly glanced over my shoulder, commandeered my keyboard, and starting typing nonsense on it. With a little more rubbish and a little more noise, this person then proceeded to drag me away from my beloved Internet. This person then hauled me over to some un-connected place, and then continued to chatter on in addition to physically abuse me by delivering well-placed kicks and emotionally hurting me. Then somehow I was dumped abruptly without any warning. Wait. Did I mention the whining? No I did not. Prior to this day, this person happened to call me down from my safe prison cell, and then proceed to make lots and lots of noise about a particular table tennis match. It was all anxious whining about what this person should do, and what could happen, and that if this person cannot win this person's next table tennis match, the whole entire world would collapse upon itself in a cataclymic implosion resulting in far reaching destruction that would rage across the face of the world for aeons as the waters across the world rises and drowns the world in tempestuous thunderstorms and cold waters from the River Styx. And wait, there's more even before that! I happen to recall a particular emergency call from this person not too long ago. This emergency was so great, that if nothing was done to remedy it, (yes yes) the world would fall into utter havoc (again), and that there would be no safe haven to live, and that animals would utter their death cry as fire rains from the sky and plummet to the ground scorching all life, and a raging inferno will rise in the sea of flame. Should I elaborate more on this emergency? No I think not, the gravity and seriousness of the condition is already so clear. Truly this was a matter that was that important, well at least to this person.

Honestly though, it does not do me well for me to say such things about this person. Okay, not that I mean what I say, well, yeah in fact I do mean what I say, only that I don't harbour any ill-feeling or grudge towards this person. Fine fine, it is all a big over-exaggeration. If I were to complain about anyone, its just that it would be endless and due to my over-sardonic exaggeration, it would seem that every person I portray on my blog would be an evil dictator hell-bent on taking over the world so that they can eradicate all cute fluffy bunnies and cover the planet with their own brand of terror.

Somehow I feel I would be kicked for this. But I hope you are amused.

Yeah, but hey, that's life. I just put this up because I sorta forgot what I was going to type on my blog yesterday, and I just needed a convenient scapegoat for this.

Forgive me for I have neglected you again. But it is not my wish to for I have nothing to say.

Ah, well, back to blogging after a long long time of stress and disconnection from the Internet.

Last night, for the first time, I picked up my handphone and called my sister, who is studying somewhere else quite decently far away. To my utmost horror, no one picked up the phone. Assuming she was with her boyfriend, I sent her an SMS accusing her of neglecting family and ignoring my needs. The reply I got was most infuriating and reinforced my belief that life was truly, if not utterly unfair. She was having a girl's night out at a sushi buffet. A sushi buffet! Yes, yes, but it was a sushi buffet!!

I am making a big deal out of this. This so completely underscores the inhumanity and injustice that I am suffering under. The situation reeks of unfairness and moral corruption. I have been denied of one of my dreams. While I scrap together a meagre subsistence here, my sister is gorging down sashimi and tempura. While I starve on leftovers and instant noodles seem like a banquet, my sister is sipping down green tea and feasting on fresh sushi. The criminal injustice makes my blood boil with anger at the unjust abuse that I have been put through. How? Why? This cannot be happening!

Hmm... yes, I may seem like I am over-exaggerating, but then this is the plain truth that I must shed light upon to the world to show the discrimination I face. And the fact that I love to eat, but that's an entirely different matter. But food is truly a great thing. I was discussing with my friend last night how food never disappoints me. It always makes me full, it doesn't scold me or shout at me. It never denies me of eating, if its there, it would be eaten. It never ignores me, well, how does a pork bun ignore a hungry person? And it satisfies. That simply makes food the best thing in the world. Which just goes to show, we do not eat to live, but rather we eat to live.