For my previous entry, I received some comments. One person declared that she loved it, whilst another said my writing lacks a certain kind of flair.
I am a little happy; I am a little discouraged.
But what I am more is relieved, because there is a high possibility I am going to die from a traffic accident tomorrow (or killing myself at work), and I have been pondering the said subject - why people take a long time in the shower - for the longest time so I am glad that these jumbled up thoughts have finally been crafted into type on Microsoft word.
I shall neither comment on if I think my writing is good or bad, but I would like very much to improve. Which I personally feel is commendable in itself, because I'm trying, and that's all that fucking matters.
I spent the entire day today, dissatisfied and discontented, dreading the thought of work tomorrow, and analysing all the fears and anxieties that I currently possess. Some are really unfounded, but for others, there is cause for worry and I feel like I am not whole.
I have been unhappy for a little over a week. It just steadily grows and I just try to not let out the scream in me that's increasingly building up in my body.
Ah who really gives a fuck? I'd probably get knocked over by a giant Saint Bernard tomorrow; its sweeping leap will topple me over and my head will smash into the concrete, and I will fall into a coma.
But for tonight my butt cheeks are clad in my Superman boxers, and I shall go to bed dreaming of having superpowers and being superhuman. I shall be a saviour and have only Kryptonite as my weakness. I will be the infinity.
Goodnight.
