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Wondered Aloud And Being Stared At.
Sunday, June 22, 2008, 23:02
Okay, fine. I was back to Singapore and is back in Singapore. Back from Fantasyworld. And coming back to reality is... coming back to reality. After all the daydreams.

Shit. I think I am a bigger loser now here in Singapore where I will be having tests tomorrow and five days later and have more trainings and be doing homework and blogging and reading blogs and talking to stupid people and sitting through lessons to make sure I can get into a good university and making myself sure that I will get a good course, write a mind-blowing thesis and get a high-paying job and sulk and complain about everything in office (the boss, the bitchy bitch beside my cubicle, the coffee lady that spills coffee on my desk everyday and the desk being white and not black), sitting in office from 9 to 5 every weekday and continue my life just doing work and rolling in bed in the weekends until I am 70 and I die.

When people could be enjoying school, talking to really nice people and have lots of buddies and close friends and go through university like it is the easiest thing to do (easier than blinking an eye), get jobs that they really love, enjoy their lives through their interesting jobs and possibly occasional vacations that tend to be yearly events. They won't waste their time and they will participate in activities that made them happy, grow old with their spouses and leave the world peaceful when their time comes, with no regret.

And so. I am feeling sore at my life, or rather, how my life is going to be. I keep dreaming that I will stay in a high-rise on Orchard Road while I know the best I can get myself is an apartment in Tampines? Yeah, I purposefully chose that to emphasize on how pathetic I will be when I grow up, to be staying in a awesome-housing-that-is-not-where-it-is-supposed-to-be-and-it-is-no-longer-awesome. Just so pathetic, no?

And when I finally set my mind on doing something I want because I want a change and I have the finances, I am not that cool anymore. See uncles driving sportscars? That's that.

Gosh. Imagine me, 57, probably with a big belly and a 'bird' face or they call it the 'jiao-been', driving a Lamborghini.

*shudder*

But that is besides the point.

Don't ask me why 57. I think I like random numbers.

And that is besides the point too.

So. I am going to Fantasyland once in a while. Imagining myself doing all the backflips on water-skiing and driving helicopters and all that. I'm just lazy to type it all out.

And don't sigh and think why I should think that I am a loser, because I am not and it is pretty obvious that I am not, because I know you feel like that sometimes too. Don't deny, unless you are a little metal cup.






Ernest