Chanced upon Springsfield's blog, or rather, sfield's blog ( as noticed from his Biology MCQ paper ).

Whoa, a very reminiscent post about someone.

Something once had, something so dear, something he wishes to cherish so much.

Is it gone? Or is it still there, but degenerated?

Then I'm told again, none of my business.

Seeing his earlier posts, I see some familiar names. Yeah, their lives are so admirable. If only ours turned out like that.

But as a guy la. Lol.

Springsfield is more cool and charismatic, they'd probably enjoyed talking to him.

Then I wonder, wow, they have this really wide network of friends. There was the chance where I could have been part of it, there was if I'd tried harder in my earlier years. Now I'm some whiny and emotional piece of crap, how to get people to like me right? Then I'd have known your friends without you even knowing it.

Maybe I would have picked up the guitar back then too.

It's all past though, it didn't happen for me. So, I wouldn't think so much about it.

I wonder, maybe you've read my blog. Maybe your friends read my blog. Maybe all this happens because you read my blog, or they told you things. To sow discord.

If so, fuck this blog then. I want it all back. But I supposed it's just like spilled water which I can never collect back. I can't keep crying over spilt milk. My friends, mostly gone for good.

Converted into strangers with anti-socialism as a catalyst, and lifelessness and dullness as optimum conditions.

Sidetrack.

Does blogging help with your English? Lol, Mr Krishnan attributed it to my ( not so ) decent English. Because he had nothing else to credit it to, I don't read, I don't see much. And I've only started blogging like, this year, and it's all about emotional bull crap that I face. How my English isn't horrible, well I don't know. But it isn't exactly good either.

OK, back to the subject.

I can't use the term " lament ", because it was something I never had to begin with.

It is not a sorrow caused by loss, but just sore cursing from a desperate loser.

That's what you're telling me.

This is why so many of my friends got chased away already.

Yet, is it right for me to claim that, such friendships were not strong to begin with, because they soured and disappeared so easily?

Don't think so.

Yet its all gone, I can't take it back. I can't visualize myself moving on and getting new friends and stuff. Hindered is my foresight. Foolish is my mentality.

Such emptiness and loneliness.

Such discrimination and condemnation.

Such inconsideration and nonchalance.

I know I'm being a fucking miserable prick here, but it's up to you whether you want to kick a wounded pig like me, leave the wounded pig alone to die, or to help heal its wounds.

I don't like the second option.

I'm dying soon, my high blood pressure isn't going to make me live longer.

None of my dreams are realised yet. And I don't know how long more I can live.

This period is so miserable, and I have no one, especially you, to console me.

OH SOBS SOBS, WHINE WHINE, and everyone walks away.

Pathetic.

I can't hold you at gunpoint to make you care for me, because it's a stupid thing to do. Even if it succeeds, which is highly unlikely and stupid, it is unreal.

Take for instance, I go into the public, and point a pistol at my temple. I shout " CARE FOR ME OR I'LL SHOOT MYSELF!"

Nothing.

Or better, you'd get replies like, " Pull the trigger then, if you have the guts to do so. "

I can't pull the trigger.

I've one crashed dream, a very important one, very sad.

I've one dream which is very discouraged, yet is proceeding, I think. I want this to be realized, but I might not live that long.

I'd like to live long enough to see what will become of the people I actually care about, in the far far future.

I'd like to live long enough to see an end to such wonderful stories, which is One Piece, and perhaps Naruto. Lame right.

I'd like to live long enough to see the end of the world.

I'd persevere on in this O levels with this misery, I really cannot assure anyone I'd shine, I can only say that it'd be better.

I wonder if anyone would've given up reading my post/blog at any point.

Getting ganged up upon. Yet when that guy is all alone, he has no balls to do anything to me. He can't kill me without assistance. I'm a nice boy.

Enough of my indignant retorts. There's Chemistry tomorrow and I've not done anything but to type out this post and be emotional.

So, fuck this blog. I don't know why you're being so difficult, I'm blaming this blog, so I'm going to fuck it upside down, all the way until O levels are over.

Then I'd be nice to it again. It's a machine for my venting of pressure.