Fifth time's the charm

It is simply not possible not to blog about one of the most unlucky days of my life. In just one sense, though.

I've finally mastered the art of self-inflicted harm. I'm not talking about self-mutilation or suicide, but the ever so popular accidents that those who know me associate me with.

You can let out the breath you've been holding now; I haven't sprained my left ankle again.

After tripping on my way to the classroom whilst on the stairs, let's fastforward to when I went to a restaurant for dinner where I walked straight into a bunch of tables and chairs. Then on the way back to the school while crossing the overhead bridge, I tripped on the stairs again and I think juniors behind me laughed rather blatantly. Next, while I was getting the lighter to light some candles for a dancer's birthday, I slipped and fell directly on my ass, which is still stinging from the pain right this very minute by the way.

To add the icing on the cake, M dripped hot, burning wax on me to finish off my day.

I'm pretty sure you have other days where you can totally top me, but today, I'm taking the trophy home with me.

It's one of those 'Some days'.

Some days, I feel the strangest and strongest pull to be connected to you, it doesn't matter how or where or why, all I know is that I need to be near you and I need you to need me too. Sometimes, I would act on the impulse and initiate contact; in today's modern world, it's neither difficult nor inconvenient, and all I have to do is type some random comment and press send. Maybe you'd take a while to reply, or if I was lucky, you'd be missing me too and we'd be off on our meaningless conversation that makes life meaningful just because it's you and me doing the talking. On these occasions, I would cheer up considerably and smile for the rest of the day until something else comes along and douse my happy cloud. Other times, I would resist the urge and suffer in my own misery, silently missing you whilst putting up a front that only makes the people around me ask what was wrong with me. I would wait and wait and wait for some sign from you, maybe an SMS to tell me the horrible day you had, the latest person you kissed and told, or the numerous people who have pissed you off. And when I don't hear from you, I fret and worry, because I have problems and you have problems and because we haven't seen each other for such a long time, I don't want to tell you my problems and vice versa because time spent talking to each other is already so precious and far and few in between and we just want to make it as lighthearted and jocund as possible. But as we continue to hide and cover our pain and sadness, we only drift further and further apart because I don't know you anymore because I don't know what's making you tick and what you're thinking about and everything we talk about becomes all the more superficial. I don't know how you may have changed, I no longer know how you interact with your environment and I don't know why you're smiling when I know you're cringing inside. Time is never on our side, and with us living so far apart, neither of us want the other to go through the pains of traveling all the way here or all the way there because in Junior College it's a fucking waste of time which we could have used to study, even though the time that we 'saved' is never used to study, merely to spend more time interacting with acquaintances that are unimportant and uninteresting but are the people whom we see every single day. And if you have followed every line of this irritatingly long paragraph, you know you're the one that I miss and you know you're the one I regret slowly slipping from my grasp. It's not going to get better. The corporate world leaves no room for budding friendships and even lesser space for developing ours. And as the space between us grow from East and Central Singapore to Singapore and other countries, you know that we'll barely see and even rarer talk to each other anymore. But what I want to convey to you and ENSURE that you know is, wherever our friendship/relationship was left off in Secondary school, it's still there in my heart and I will never feel the awkwardness of a stranger when I'm with you again, even if we won't have had met or talked or SMSed or know about the most recent updates about each other. I want you to know that even up to now, I still think about you, imagine about your life and want to know what you've been up to and wish the best for you, as much as I sound like a Grade A stalker. Do drop a reply, it could be 'HAHA' or 'yeah' or even just a 'hey', because sometimes, I am a weak human being both mentally and psychologically and I NEED your reassurance of your presence in my life, because guess what, I still, after so long, depend on you to feel alive.

The Best of the Best of THE BEST.

I keep telling myself I don't have to be the best. I don't even have to aim for the best. Because, somehow, deep down in my heart, I know I will never be the best. Too normal, too average, too whatever.

But somewhere in the corners of my mind, there's always this voice saying 'What if'. What if you were meant to be better than this? You could be better than this? What if you were simply too lazy? Undetermined?

I could have.

I could have.

I could have.

And if all this sets me up for a major letdown, I think that's it. That's it for me. For this life. I don't know if I can ever overcome this hurdle if I come to it.

Expect the worse and hope for the best. Maybe then, I can have something to hold on to, however thin, however small. However painful.