I’m definitely not scared of attachment; I’m just not into you. And if you’re a girl, I want to show you right away that I’m a no-good friend to have.
Thanks to all for granting me some space. There are many important things on my plate, things to get over with, things to send to hell.
At least I believe one thing has gone to hell already, or I’d like to think it has, which proves that my sense of good and evil is off. I shouldn’t want anyone to go to hell, and yet, I do. What you may call “good” is my willingness to return the kindness, unless you impose your kindness on me because you want something in return.
One of the worst things is to owe someone. It’s not always money they want back. Sometimes they expect in return, which can be worse. The day I help you is the day I care about you. And right now, I don’t have time to help anyone apart from the three people that mean the world to me.
You will never come first.
But I think about you. Is that enough for now?
Everyone wants you to give.
And if you don’t, they take your bread, noodles and beans! Londoners take what they can get!
Do you remember the scene where Chihiro refuses to take the gold coins? People like her don’t exist here in London.
I no longer understand people who need to talk. If they believe there’s a problem, they force you to sit down with them and talk. Moments like these make me cringe because they reflect bad movies.
There’s another thing; it’s always a woman who does that. Talk about problems–what if my problem is you? I’m not authorized to ask for you to change, and that’s the other problem. When you’re in love with a person, why would you want them to change? If you hate how they leave dirty laundry on the floor and know this won’t ever change, do you still love them?
Maybe you’re right, and I’m over-thinking and exaggerating, which explains why I reject every company that I get. Even if there is none, I reject them before they even come to the surface.
I’m already conjuring a lot of heat underneath my blanket, and I can no longer listen to people saying how cold it is.
By the way, one reason I can’t marry is that I can’t wear a wedding ring on my left ring finger. The skin between my ring and middle finger is somewhat thick, similar to the skin layer on a frog’s hand, which holds the fingers together. So when I wear a ring on that finger and stretch my fingers, it hurts. There’s a sense of feeling trapped, being held hostage or kept in chains. If you feel otherwise, I envy you.
In none of my three dimensions have I been able to shake off these adverse sentiments. I’ll never be able to decide which of the three dimensions will make it to the middle of the triptych. There is so much inconsistency and unsteadiness that put you into a state of indecision. And the only way to remain sane is to carry all three on the back and not rack your brains over decision making. I’m glad to have those three dimensions, even though they’re heavy. Other people are merely two-dimensional. Unfortunately, there are too many of them.
I can’t wait to catch up on Puccini opera shows. Il Trittico is next – another threesome in a story where the jealous man, under the spell of the obsessive love wheel, accomplishes in feeding his rage. This is how things end. Just like that. An abrupt ending is like a slap in the face.
Curtains.
It’s up to us to imagine what it tastes like. It must have tasted indescribably good like a drug. Who cares about the side effects?
Hopefully, spring won’t come too soon as I want them down in their holes a little longer. The surface is mine. They will get the heat they deserve at some point.
