i stereotype people. and for that i deserve the judgements placed on me. i didnt know there was chingay yesterday and was an unwilling participant of the chingay crowd.
damn wankers were everywhere.

and two tourists, i hope, took pictures with me and fuzzy. somehow these tourists looked exactly like construction workers from myanmar or phillipines. the whole get-up, from the hair to the lingo. *shudders* i wonder what they did with our picture. hurhurr.

and i watched letters from iwo jima. its a story about ww2. and i teared and teared that i produced snots! and i didnt know where to wipe them.. so i wiped them on the sleeves of my jacket. tsk tsk. ugly confessions. but anw, the movie is just so saad. and i heard sniffles from every corner of the movie theatre.

damn humans create a war only to bawl in regret over the destruction it has caused. even the winner losses in the end. for the blood that splatter in the name of honour for the country and glory to be written in history is never worth. dont tell me we are all too blind to see and too weak to admit. that maybe one day our decendents will all die of nuclear annihilation. its hell before hell. oh god is so scheming eh.

and we poor teens, fumbling at our own personal problems. cussing damn hormones for our lack of ability to control ourselves. our desires and our rash decisions and doings. like how we regret eating a whole bar of chocz, having that extra light of cigg, breaking that wall of hymen and skipping classes for a chance to nap. see, how immature i sound. how we all sound when we read and reread our own silly blog entries. and sillier still, those who follow-up and swallow whole the entries of others.

we are all the same. you and i.
now dont you feel small?
you would feel smaller if you saw that movie.