everyone likes to have answers: why this happens, what we should do, etc. and even answers as to why people are the way they are. i realize the hardest questions are those about yourself. because i can't tell the truth if i don't know it in the first place

that day i woke up in camp at night, (while doing orderly duty) and i swear i heard the rats having a squeaking conversation. which stopped once i rubbed the sleep from my eyes

Mollie: all right put your garbage here
Alfie: It's a potluck? how come no-one told me? I didn't bring anything
Roy: i told you last night. why don't we get cheese anymore
Mollie: nobody brings cheese to camp, roy
Alfie: Rats, someone's awake
Mollie: (squeak sqeak)
Roy: (squeak)

i kinda believe in horoscopes sometimes; today's said i would spend my time dreaming of bigger things. and i really was lying in bed doing that for an hour. or wait, did i create my own horoscope in my mind? its a self fulfiling prophecy.

anyway there are apparently so many things i wanna do. this this this this and that. wrote it down on a post-it with self-belief, though i know it'll probably end up like the hundreds that came before it: lost, and forgotten. story of my life i guess- dreams on post-its, torn off to make way for the next sheet.

at the very least this random entry will serve to remind me (during one of those self-indulgent nostalgic trips down the archives of this blog, probably) of the things i said i'll do, and if a search for this most recent Post-It ends up in failure, may it spark another in return

omg the syntax and bad phrasing ok forget it-

this is weird, and i dont like to declare infatuations easily, but, i think i'm in love with the girl in the macdonalds ad. hahahaha. and i think its cos her eyes tell a story. i know: i've known eyes that have told me stories; fairytales built on clouds. (till it rained) I tell everyone about people whose eyes tell stories, and they laugh it off most of the time

At the lift lobby downstairs there was this balding man who was visibly agitated because of how slow the lift was taking to arrive - he kept muttering and jabbing at the lift button. when the lift arrived, i glanced at this woman who gave me a raised-eyebrow-look ("are you sure?"), and entered the lift with this man. In the span of the 8 storeys he travelled,

he launched into this whole tirade about how "lifts are slow, traffic lights are slow, everything is slow and only prices go up. i call this mahbowtan ah. what is this gahmen doing the Dpm only care about overseas overseas only go suzhou to look at pretty girls..." etc etc etc x 10 at very fast speed.

my first true slice of political frustration. cool! i was blown away

I sleep quite a lot lately. it's not much of a remedy, but it'll do for now. It's escapism in its simplest form; a way to keep the ghost of memories at bay, at night, when the only sounds are those in your head