Marooned.

OMG.

I just killed my dad’s car. Its like someone took a chainsaw and sliced through half the back door. SO FUCKED. How the hell does a wooden pole do that to the car!!?!? I’m starting to wonder if the poles were like pointy at the end or something. FUCK!!!

I think my dad’s going to kill me in the morning, and I wish I can tell him NOW, so I can get it over and done with.

How am I supposed to sleep and wait for doom to come in the morning? I should have driven the other car, fuck!!

I wonder how much a door costs. My brother just went, ‘Its ok la, but the door I think, K-O already la.’

Ok, I’m mostly okay, but still reeling from shock I think.

Bye world, wish me luck.

There’s so much that can be said, and yet so little that gets taken to heart. Its not that we don’t see the logic in those words, but they are just purely cold, hard words, that have very little impact on the emotions toiling in our breasts. The different layers of our consciousness doesn’t always meld.

And no matter how much I don’t want to care, to think of, to worry, to believe. I do. Even if it all comes back as a joke, blowing up in my face. So be it.

Having no handphone is quite liberating. Although it wasn’t by choice to be parted with it, its not too bad. On the other hand, its not as if I’m MissPopular or anything, because I know I can go days without sending an SMS or calling anyone – there is the internet – its just a bit weird to be without it.

No alarm clock. No handheld games. No random photo taking opportunities – although there is a digital camera for that too. No random messaging. No changing of plans. No being late. Worst part is having no phone numbers.