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     I don't know anything anymore. Actually, that's not true. I have a better idea these days of what I'm feeling. I understand and acknowledge them, instead of hiding them under excuses. Even Daniel had to admit that (though whether he remembers it or not depends on how much he's had to drink just now...). So stop it. At 26 years-old, I'm not a fucking child. Honestly, do you think I'm stupid? Idealistic, definitely, but I KNOW it's not a bad thing. So bugger off. If you wanna know what I'm going through, you have my: handphone number/e-mail address/home address/there's a fucking comments option below each of my posts, so please, give me some credit, or else, leave me the fuck alone. Unless you can really be bothered, instead of doing it out of obligation (admit it, you do, and I KNOW, and for the next few months, I'll let you know too. I'm tired of being nice about it. Try it if you don't believe me). Please. If anything, for your sakes, more than my own... I'm just really tired. More than you could possibly want to know. How do I know that? 'Cause if you did, you'd have FUCKING ASKED ALREADY. Back off. Please. I'm begging you. I'm just really tired. I'll see you lot on Monday evening. Happy Fucking National Day. Majulah Fucking Singapura.

P.S. I didn't even have anything to drink writing this. HA, I wish I did...