I'm too tired to blog sensibly.
My eyelids are heavy from bad sleep and repetitive reading.
I gave up reading The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes because I wasn't absorbing. Do not be deceived by the subject. It's by Sir Arthur Conan Dyle and it should be somewhere up there with Jane Austen. I am not a boring lowlife fart.
Reading improves the quality of your mind. I read a lot.

Thursday was just over and I'm a bit amazed; filled my 24 hours with broadly sleeping; eating and then a solo gym session and some reading. Where did all my time go?
I fear tomorrow.
Everybody promises it will be good (Good Friday), but I grossly disagree. Unless the men in class have something planned, I will most definitely degrade from extreme boredom.
There isn't any Karate training; it's not a gym day, I don't have Cable TV and if it rains, I cannot run. My knee has started to hurt again.
Cheery.

I met Wei Wei just now at Tampines MRT and she waved to me, and here I must gravely apologize again and publicly for not immediately waving back. Smart girl, she. Not just because she's a VJC, but also because she recognized that I was very fit. Haha. I gave her my word that I would go for the 2K class gatherings in future and be very less rude. I don't forget people. I only forget names, so don't worry.

I woke up at 11 plus today, and had a small breakfast of tuna and tomatoes and cucumber slices in a magical concoction-a sandwich, before trying to do some reading.
I sparked my mother off and she could not stop talking to me at a higher volume where she insists is not shouting, and then continually expounds on her perspective of why I'm not that successful thus far and that she foresaw my ill fortune with the cursed examinations; the one that has just passed and the ones that are to follow. She maintained that she would not want to see my CT and yaddayaddayadda.
And I fell asleep and woke up at 2 pm. Excellent.

That brief lapse of shut-eye was really what I needed.
I haven't been getting much restive sleep these days, fitful nights and disturbing dreams that are either part of REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep or really believable dreams where the feeling of swimming in salty green seawater lingers when I open my eyes.
I have the silly notion that I will pass away in my sleep and that I cannot afford to because 18 is a young age and I haven't really done anything that I wanted to and that really sucks.
Why I feel so is because when I shut down for sleep, I somewhat feel that I'm fading away and even though I'm conscious, I do not even have the strength to move my littlest finger or to alter my sleeping position. My mind is screaming at my body but nothing happens. Total immobilisation.
Frightful.

If I were to really leave this world, I would want to tell everybody I've caused hurt to that I'm sorry and I want to tell those people that are close to me that I love them and this is not capricious, but instead sincere love. And I would want people to find God and God to find them.
I would like to invoke a metaphor that a preacher mentioned.
Everybody likes to think they know God and know Jesus. It kinda like, do you know George Bush? Everybody says yes. But, does George Bush know you? If he does, he'd invite you into his white house, won't he?
It's worth our thought.

We caught Rule Number 1 yesterday, we being Jeremy, Hakim, Dickson and me. We wanted to watch Step Up 2, but me and Hakim arrived late and we couldn't watch it, and the original crowd with Crystal and Naq also disbanded. The four men settled for horrific Rule Number 1 late at night. The cinema was not filled and we took a whole row to ourselves where I refused to sit at the side in case somebody I can't see touched me.

It fully lived up to its label as horror movie, and Dickson who thought it was only a thriller was wanting to watch it. I was apprehensive, but complied.
It was a very good movie, with excellent plot and story-telling and heart-jolting bits. Female ghouls with wet long flowing hair and lots of blood and unnatural portions.

Dickson lost his cojones (Spanish for Balls) yesterday at the cinema. He realised it was a ghost show and shielded his eyes for most of the movie, and kept wanting me to tell him what was happening. Haha. That was funny. But I was a bit spooked too. But I was most disturbed by the conclusion. Song Leng is a proponent of happy blissful endings, not dark ones.

After the movie, Jeremy recited Rule Number 2: Don't ever let them touch you. And Hakim gripped my bicep immediately. Because it was dark and also Hakim's dark complexion, I couldn't see where the hand came from and I shook it off, jumped a metre away and shouted "F-you" all in one instant. It was hilarious in hindsight, but damn frigging not funny when you're on the receiving end.

It was a fun night and too bad Crystal and Naq didn't stay for the movie. But I'm sure there'll be another movie outing damn soon.

Having finished recounting the movie yesterday, I'll fill in some of my musings:

Time moves slowly when you've dropped out of the common pace.
I realised this when I was doing my Chemistry paper. Or sitting through mostly.

Time, you cannot hold it; it slips through your fingers like sand.
I wrote this in an essay when I was in Sec 4. Original.

You do not realise the value of things until you lose them.
I lost my stress squeeze ball and a short (long) list of things precious and dear to me and I was moved to reiterate this strand of wisdom.

Scrubs said this to me yesterday. A good hug takes 7 seconds.

I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately and I once again am disillusioned by all of it.
I want to say more, but I think I'll pass this time.
I need a late night dose of Scrubs to temper out the badfeel. I had not expected to still feel like this after a week. But it's a one time recurrence, I hope and I want to snap out of it and get my living back on the fast track.

I have not been listening to any music expect Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours". I'm hoping to give that piece away in song, but I'm sealing up that bit of me that is a crazy irrational and insanely optimistic dreamer.

finis