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Sometimes, I just want to scream.

What the fuck. Why are you so inconsiderate.

I should put my balcony to good use.

It’s okay, just breathe. Breathe breathe breathe. They don’t know you’re hurting. They probably don’t give a shit that you’re hurting. Why should you care about them then. Don’t punish yourself for something they did wrong.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Life is awesome.

:]

Some things are too emo to say over Twitter.

Each one of us is broken in our own way.

We wait. We wait patiently for someone to come along and fix us. If I can draw, I would draw a city full of robots that are broken here and there. All sitting, thinking and waiting for their saviour. But who’ll fix them, when everyone needs to be repaired.

  1. Beat my own score in my favourite song in pop ‘n music. 77k.
  2. First time getting the stone past the red line and in the house for curling. Go sweepers.
  3. Finished last class of gruelling hot yoga.
  4. Won the battle against the urge of buying something I don’t need.

Go me.

But all these doesn’t necessarily make me happy. I need bigger accomplishments… the ones that matter.

…Or defending oneself.

I don’t like to explain myself too much. For three reasons. One: I don’t want to be too defensive. 有時候事情越描越黑. It seems like the fewer words I give the better. Two: it shouldn’t matter too much what other people think right. As long as I know what I did was right. Three: sometimes I don’t care too much about the person I’m explaining to. This is similar to how it’s rare for me to get mad at someone who doesn’t really know me.

But I think, by giving few words I usually make the situation worse. Because the other party will just assume I’m finding excuses, making things up, and so I can’t tell a complete story. But by continuing explaining myself, I feel that I’m just being defensive about myself. Maybe I am. Maybe I should chill the frig out. Maybe I should stick to reason #2. Maybe it’s time to live for myself.

Right?