I think there is a large percentage of people in the world who proclaim (with much integrity) that Life’s a Real Practical Joker; the way it leads you down to somewhere only to constantly steer you towards the marshlands, or pot-hole pedestrian, or sometimes the guillotine museum while at essence you’re pretty much going to end up in the same place as everyone. Why make it so taxing?


Then there’s another percentage of people who says that Life’s Full of Raillery and it’s pretty much all harmless stuff unless you think it is otherwise. Mind over matter is the key, and to quote the common term that they roll around with their tongues in cheerful-spouting sweetness; When life’s getting you down, just smile, smile, and you’re not in frown.


Then there’s the other percentage who says everyone is a hypocrite, even themselves, and they live a life in abject hate of everything.


I, for one, don’t know which percentage do I belong in. I would like to say I’m in the Life’s Raillery bandwagon, but sometimes I feel that choosing that makes me one of the Everybody’s a Hypocrite club. Either way, does it really matter? I think life’s pretty much where everyone lives and dies and try not to suffer so much in the process. And making sure they have offspring. And that’s why most people think gays aren’t really ‘living’, but that’s their problem to ponder, and to peace with them.

It’s an Oh Noes! Week. You can imagine me going Oh Noes! so many times now I’ve close to turning into Edvard Munch’s The Scream, and I thank that to the fact that I’m now probably going to be twice busier with triple the things to worry about.


It feels like exploitation. It feels like the cultural creations of the world is in conspiracy against me. It’s filial piety and workmanship abuse. It’s the obdurate over the friable, where I’m the cookie and someone’s very determinedly threatening to crumble me unless I do what they want. I’m the lesser individual here, and there’s nothing I could do without suffering the consequences, and while I don’t believe that there is ever too high a price to pay, there is a price so high it will make you penniless and in eternal torment under some sort of relentless loan system.


There’s nothing else to do but to play along, and at most, make the best out of it, I guess. Yup, I’m in the Life’s Raillery bandwagon, with a cartful of hippies, singing Raindrops keep falling on my Head.


My back hurts. I think I overworked it. Either that or I’ve been bending down wrongly while doing the garden reconstruction. We’re having one part of the garden cemented and dad saw to himself to use whatever we have to relocate to turn another, more desolate, part of the garden into an oasis. I’m already so wasted over Industrial Training and now my weekends are a part-time construction worker. I’ve done my fair share of hoeing, brick transferring and soil disposing. I want my rest back. Give me my rest.


And my job seems to have taken a turn towards the troublesome; now Ji Lin and I have to work on a bunch of nonsense that’ll take the whole 3 months and I’ll have to go around researching and doing meetings and stuff. To cap it off I’m (supposedly) group leader, which sucks, and I’m already at riff with the fact that I feel like I’ve been misplaced for this internship crap. Oh noes…


The only good thing this week was Kelv-ster dropping by on his off day for lunch, and while it was short it was good to catch up on stuff. Everyone seems to be doing fine working at the papers. Makes me wonder and wish.


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I’m sorry if the post didn’t make any sense. The sleep gnomes have raided my brain terminals and are now launching a full-scale assault of the left cerebral bunker. Which means it’s only moments before I dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd
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