My Achilles' Heel.

It is such a waste. Bro Jimmy and Steve asked me along for a weekend getaway to Genting Highlands this coming Friday night. And my expenses paid for.

Well, I have to prioritise. School events and club reputation come first. Especially when it is "sai gang."

Sorry bros, I really want to go.

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I realise I have quite a number of soft spots for the opposite sex.

Femme Fetale.

Man, that happens almost every/any other day when I see the creatures from Venus on the trains, buses and school. But thank God, this does not hit me so badly. Call them my eye candies if you like. So it is really inevitable that the human mind wanders into uncharted territories. The impossible.

Like a, "hello miss, can we have a chat?" kind of thing.

So there is really nothing fanciful about my thoughts most of the time. Remember, I am a simple person after all.

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But there are really some soft spots about me that bug me from day to day. Some times of the day they come, sometimes they go. As elusive as the haze. As delusive as the tricks that Houdini once played.

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Talk about the already-stale memories that you want to relive. Talk about how the person made you feel that rejuvenates you every night. Talk about how the person spoke that made the stressful nights more bearable.

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Talk about the future together.

Well, calculated risks are not exactly calculated pe say. How can one be sure? Life is not a game of math. If only life is to be so rigid, we would have forgtten the purpose of the very existence of being on this ridiculously round piece of soil; the very reason why we live, and what we are living for.

We live for others, and others for us.

And so I wonder. Who lives for me? Who are(is) the one(s) who give(s) purpose and meaning to the mundanity of my lacklustre life?

Or am I even appreciated in the first place? Or known? Or exist(ed) in the saturated minds of typical Singaporean friends?

I dwell too much on my personal actions and behaviours. Like an entrapped game estrangled by the snare in a hunting trap. Asphyxiating.

Maybe it is the culture in my family and the way I have spent my formative years that make me so different from others

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Karma. It is coming. Or has it already arrived?