Familiarity breeds contempt.

An apt description of me.

The more time people actually spend with me, the more they get annoyed with me.

I'm probably in a class slightly higher than terrorists.

Why? I'm still a homosapien. They are inhumane.

I apologise.


There are probably three types of people in this world.


1. Those who open up immediately to strangers, nothing hidden.

2. Those that don't open up, ever.

3. Those that open up after a while, like clams.




I find myself belonging to the third type.


There's always various levels of security around me, with new aspects of me uncovered at each level advancement.

-"People may not be who they seem to be."-

This sentence has been hanging in my mind since the beginning of the year since it was uttered by natalie.

I wonder if she meant me. Cos, I wasn't really 'me' during the beginning.




Like I was saying, I belong to the third type.


Opening up, you might have thought, would probably bring forth a butterfly with angelic personality.

If you were expecting that, I refer thee to thy Powerpuff Girls.


What was unleashed, however, was a swarm of locusts.


And so readers, let's be true to ourselves.

Ever since you've known me, how many times has it been since I:

- lent you a hand?

- lent you some cash?

- gave you something other than the middle finger or a foul name?

- thanked you for being my friend?

- showed you the appreciation you deserve?



I can answer that.




Never.





And for that I apologise.



Some of you know me as a jester, a slacker, a loser,

or rather, on one occassion, one of you might remember me as a pufferfish.





How true. Nobody knows you like yourself.


From the quiet facade I presented to you before you had the misfortune of knowing me,

an annoying person had developed.


The procrastinator, the critic, the utterly bo-chap person.


Me. Yours truly.



I guess I've sorta been 'institutionalised', some might recall this term,

so much that now every sentence I use to respond is coated with acrimonious sarcasm

and/or tinges of false jealousy.



I've always been the one to be overly prejudiced,

building on a mild dislike of some peers by people around me,

and degenerating it into a full-scale war.


My blatant abhorrence of some individuals, in retrospect, splatter my memory with disgust.


And for that I apologise. It is a habit that must be changed.


Not that subtle backstabbing is any less damaging.


Now I understand.

The saying,

"People were born to be loved, not hated." (Probably a figment of my imagination.)

dictates, "He who has not harmed should not be injured." (Likewise, I made that up.)


I've decided to drop all my hatred, borne out of nothing but peer pressure.


At this point, surely you can see, this is my confession box, and you are the priest.
So please don't give up on me, for you are my only hope.





It's Singaporean to complain about things, but it's you who actually bitches.

Bitching is not a prerogative, especially when you can't earn your own keep.




So envy not the things others have, and drown in your despair,

for every parent in the world wishes the best for those in their care.


Pentium 2, who cares, I love the computer the way it is.

(Please note, these feelings may subside the next day.)



It's weird, you know, after typing this out, it seems a burden has been lifted,

Is it my imagination? or is it something worse?





But for now, please know, I'm sorry. (la)


For the last part, I apologise again.