on the bathroom floor

Crying. Some propose that it's our way of getting rid of stress hormones. Others say it's to blur our vision to stop us from doing things we might regret. Either way it's great, to cry.

We spent the whole of painting talking to Mr. Khiew. About love. The thing that comes around and fucks everything up. It's shocking sometimes. It's a bit sad also. But it's not really sad if no one feels sad you know?

Imagine one day, everyone in the world stands in small circles and everyone tells everybody else what exactly he or she wants from the bottom of their hearts. I want my mom home now. I want you. I want to die. I want chocolate. Sounds like a bloody stupid activity really annoying people would get you to do. But it's cuz people just never say what they want. They beat around the damn bush all day, but they just don't get to it. It's even worse because I know I do that too. If you don't tell me what you want I can't give it to you. Just tell me and it's yours, dead serious.

There are really lots of awesome things in life. But somedays you get chocked up really bad. Your voice sounds phony and disgusting when you speak. You have no idea why. You feel rejected. You're told by a stranger that you don't even know what to ask because you know nothing, go to google damnit. You feel like a fucking lousy version of someone else. Sideshow. Everyone's beautiful? Maybe only. If you can slot who we are in boxes then someone's probably me, plus more. It hurts.

It's hard to smell the roses sometimes, it gets really hard. But as long as you know they're there.