IT SUCKZXZXZ BEING SICK.
I can do nothing properly. I can't even practise scales.

BSSSSSSSSSSSK.
But one thing's that I don't feel like eating. Which means more contributions to the Chanel/Loewe fund. (: And I'm thinking YSL too.

STARVEEEEEEEEE.

By the way, I was sick. You know I would really rather take the damn Math Test than to suffer chilling to death internally at home.

♥

I do not, and probably never will understand why some people just simply do not understand the thrill of originality, only blatantly living on another's custom sample.
And those are feelings that only willpower, that simple beings will not own, can overcome.

I am made to believe, for my entire life, that I am one of said 'simple beings'.

Today I met a person whom I believe has mastered Legimency(?) (Okay, I forgot the term.) and thus I am resolute to conquer Occlumency.

I am disappointed.
WHY DID FRED DIE?!

( You might not understand the above, but don't worry, they weren't written in a literal way. I think. )

♥

I surrender.

& Before I lose the blogging vibe,

Ways to commit suicide/die in one complete pretty piece.

1. Draw linear graphs involving logarithm.
2. Walk around Town shopping sales in 4-inch stilettos.
3. Climb endless faulted escalators in 4-inch.
4. Clean up the after-mess of Live Earth concerts. (Best results will be obtained if you work alone.)

Repeat above steps until you croak.

-

I've just thought of this : Would you rather face your greatest fear (Like death of loved one or just death.) after a lucky-good day, or the worst day of your life?

After a less-than-1-second consideration, I would I answered the latter. Anyway that day had gone terribly, what's another tragedy, right?

But if that terrible event is really, well, terrible, if it was me, I might just take my own life.
I doubt I would be able to take it.

But in any case, I believe the grief stays the same. Maybe if it happened on the worst day of my life, I might have been mentally-prepared for another catastrophe.

I hope Mrs Koh's Bad-things-happen-consecutively-thrice-then-your-luck-changes-theory is true.

Countless events, conversations, thoughts tells me to get prepared for the worst. Now it seems like I am the only one left in the world who's not mature enough to handle departures. Actually, after so many thoughts I would have thought that I'm mentally prepared.

But I am just not.

And I know that i'm not, when upon returning abode, the first thing on my mind was to rush to the bedroom and detect signs of breathing. Sometimes, his breathing is just so faint I cannot make out any moments, and then I freak out.

Of course, they are all, thankfully, false alarms.

Subconsciously I am not up to handle it. That might just be one of the reason why I am beginning to lose my patience with everything and thus turned cranky, resulting in a cold war with Dad which lasted for a record-breaking(LONG, not short.) of 5 days.

I wish I had half of William Wallace's courage. ):

♥

♥KJH