And whoever read that in another way, grow up damn it.
First things first: New York.
Pictures taken by Fatin Syahiera
Great city, great views, great people.
With oddly very cheerful homeless people.
But I didn't have a great time.
I didn't sleep. Which makes me very cranky.
By crankyness here I mean everything, from noises to people, will seem ten times more annoying than they really are. Up to the point where murder seems like a good idea.
But nothing I can't handle. Not like I haven't been sleep deprived before.
I would have been fine, with my dignity still intact, if only one certain son of a bitch could keep his bloody mouth shut. Because of him, I started to have sharp painful headaches every time he spoke, reminiscent of being hit in the head with a van. Many, many times.
Let's talk about friends.
Contrary to popular belief, I CAN be a good friend. And one way I act like a good friend is pretending that my friend's boyfriend is bearable even though he is one giant turd.
But I've had enough. This certain turd has gone too turdy.
I very rarely hate people. I'm now making an exception. Sorry bud, but I'd rather have a colonoscopy via my nose than see you again.
I know it's bad karma. At least I'm not mentioning names.
Another thing about friends; I really miss my best friend. I rarely use that term, being a faux-macho guy, but then he really is the best friend I'll ever have. He's a brother to me.
At the same time, he's the stupidest friend I have. Here's the thing: he's smart, smarter than me. If he actually bloody worked hard during Form 4 and not sleep his sorry ass away, he'd be with me, here in the United States, continuing our studies. We'd probably pick the same college. I know I would have. And I would be a totally different person: happy, confident, and charismatic.
Ya Allah, I miss the dude so bad. If you're reading this, Imran Kadir, I just want to let you know that you're an ARSE.
Where was I?
Ah yes, the trip.
I had fun.
And that's about it. Nothing much to say.
Instead, I'm going to talk about emotions.
Again, contrary to popular belief, I do have emotions. Real emotions. Especially emotions towards other people.
Now, the thing about emotions is that you really have no control of them. You learn how to adapt to them, but that's about it. I'm not talking scientifically of course, so don't go pointing to some b.s. psych study. FYI, I read them too.
One thing I do know for sure is this:
If you don't want to think about a person, don't bloody well go and spend time with them.
Sure, repressing feelings and hiding emotions isn't the most courageous and manliest thing I'll ever do. But I'd rather do that and not regret anything. Don't take advice from me though. You're probably more handsome, charismatic and better in every way than me, so go right ahead.
Sorry, I'm not me lately.
So many things just don't make sense anymore. I haven't been creative in a long time and frankly I'm losing my self-identity. I'm nothing but a fat dude in big ass glasses at the moment. I really need something to feel like ME again.
Silver lining: I'm heading to Purdue to meet up with my producer (cheh!) during the winter break and we're gonna get damn creative.
I really do hope so. because I spent $200 on the bloody tickets alone.
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