Good evening. How were you? I guess, I'm doing fine, thank you. Yes, recovering from those bouts of insanity. In case you've been wondering if this usually quiet-guy has gone a bit loony with all that gibberish being written down below. I wouldn't criticise you on this point, if I were you I would have done the same thing: spat on the screen and then, quietlly when no one is looking, wipe the spit stain off by a clean cloth.
So well, yes, anyway.
I actually had a pretty rough day. No. No-no. It wasn't work sweety/jackass, I swear, I didn't mean to intend that, you know I don't think like that. Right now, at this moment, a professional relationship, is the only thing I can sustain at this point of time.
It was actually while getting off the fuckin' DTC bus that I had a pretty bad fall. You see the bus was on a curve turn, supposed to have stopped for me. The darn thing slowed and then began to roll off (say it like fuck off). It was during that moment that I landed on the ground, the velocity tricked my gravity and left me sprawled on the asphalt caked road with my knees cut; my jeans burnt; and some fucker giving me advice. What a bad time to tell me where I went wrong, thanks anyway, you old muffuckin' gent.
My shoulder seems to be hurting, don't think I can lift it really well. I guess I won't crib too much, its quite all right. Yes, I'm doing fine. Why? Thank you again for being concerned.
The day rushed pass quite okay. The stupid chicken sandwich that the office canteen can ruin so easily (can anyone give them the recipe?) and those sweet darn free coffees that are meant to go with your cigarettes -- my little role with food.
Stangely just had almost no money on me today -- but knowing that its in the bank -- I felt sort of shipwrecked. But there's actually a feeling to it which makes you feel bit cool, ya know right, the vagabond, the Kerouac-kind, left around? Okay, cool, no I'm not losing it again.
As a matter of fact, I had never lost it. Damn, you're not buying it. Strange, anyway, but really.
You know while thinking today, I just realised that perhaps sometimes -- young that I am, go ahead, make me see -- really stress over being impressionable. I don't know about you, but I sometimes really convince myself to behave in particular norms, in harmless ways I tell you. I don't mind these self-conditioning routine checks, its not that hard and I guess its cool to inflict on oneself, right, who else...? But the strange thing is that at the same time, I also really don't give a fuck about what people think of me. I think most of my life just wastes sorting these two things out. Its a good thing, just that I wish not too long thinkin about it.
Heck, its okay. It doesn't really make me that unahppy or any curious. I like the way I am, I am not stupid I swear. Other people are. (whoops!)