her eyes spat tears the taste of rust

It's sad when something changes, everything changes. And it's usually for the worst, never for the better. When you hear one side of the story, you feel one thing. And when you get to hear the other, some new revelations appear. Why can't both parties come together and piece the story together and make everything lucid and understandable to both? Words usually get distorted as they go through third parties and everything ends up misinterpreted and contorted. I don't even know what to make out of the whole thing anymore. Everybody feels tired, everyone wants to escape, but they just end up being entangled in the mess still. And it's mystifying how people become scary and things become sour and it's sad, when you're looking at the mess from the outside of the inside. Sighh. It's selfish, but if it's me, I'd rather not be on the disadvantage too. Employ more protective mechanisms, absorb less pain. If not, I think I'll become nothing more than a destroyed soul. Hahaa.

I've been eating air at home these days. And the renovation work is killing me with all the drilling and banging. Kills my morning, my day, my head. And the days are so hot and humid it makes me all exasperated. Thank god my mummy is going to change my bloody translucent curtain to a thicker one soon.

Mugging sickens me. Doing research makes me mad. All I look forward to now is the repeat telecast of Fu Man Ren Jian later. Caught the episode last week and realized how much I liked it last time. My hands are shivering, my head is throbbing. I can't live on air alone afterall.