Night scribbles.

I guess it's true what they say of night owls and introverts.

In the silence, we speak the loudest. In the solitude, we scream our passions. In the quiet, we live life to the fullest.

During the day, somehow, we are dulled down. Toned down to mere shadows of our former selves, a literal joke of what we could have been if the sun and set and we basked in the glow of our computer screens.

I wished that there was something, a forum or a job site of some sort that catered to people that decide to live and work at night rather than during the day. And I'm not talking about those kinda jobs that is supposed to exist outside of daylight. I'm talking about real jobs. Accountants, lawyers, medical and health professionals, engineers, baristas, restaurants owners and waitstaff that live for the night rather than for the day. We shut off as the sun peeks its head over the horizon and we yawn and rub our eyes as the sun sets and people rush home for dinner.

The night creatures come out to play.

That does sound quite heavenly. And creepy too. I'm not sure which one I like better.

*****

He couldn't stop in time.

As he walked across the road, the bus came careening around the corner. The bus driver looked panicked behind the windscreen, the bus, obviously out of his control and aiming straight down the pedestrian crossing.

With a sickening crunch, human body met at least a good 3 tonnes of steel, perspex, and a good 20 passengers. 

He flew across the street and smacked his head on the lamp post. Funny how a human head feels as soft as an overripe watermelon at 70km/h. Newton's Third Law of Motion was demonstrated as the innards of his skull showered a kid sitting on a bench eating an ice cream waiting for his mummy to pay the ice cream man. 

*****

I should stop dreaming. 

I should wake up and smell the coffee of reality and of bills to pay and of stupid bosses and even stupider managers and of the feeling of being trapped in a job you hate with nowhere to run. 

My two housemates (Korean boys) left Merlion City about 2 months ago. The landlady said that they complained that it was too tough and that they couldn't survive in S'pore. 

Now when did surviving a rough, tough, environment become a rite of passage? "Oh, you have to learn to deal with stupid upper management who do not appreciate your efforts towards the company and if you can't hack it, you're weak, you pathetic p***y." You don't even get a badge at the end of it. Coming away intact with your brain and heart in place is sufficient. 

I didn't sign up for this sh|t. 

*****

Happiness is a trait in short demand nowadays. 

Did you know that the biggest killers in Merlion City are cancers, ischaemic heart disease, pneumonia, strokes, and accidents, poisoning and violence (including suicides?)

In all of these causes of death, I can easily see where stress and the stressors of life and living in this country can quickly take its role in ushering someone to the grave. 

One of the major cellphone service providers here attempted to showcase Merlion City as a happy, spontaneous place to live, where there are smiles in every street corner, a welcoming gesture of goodwill and comradeship amongst all its citizens. This was in answer to a global survey that showed that Merlion City is the least emotional city in the world. The most emotional city is, undoubtedly and proven, to be Brazil. 

The resulting ad showed teenagers breaking out in spontaneous dancing in the subway. Children singing happily in the bus. Strangers offering other strangers a helping hand to cross the road or an umbrella when it started to pour. Random family members dancing on the streets. 

Personally, I would like to take my camera and showcase this country for what it really is. A buzzkill. People on the bus or on the trains are literal zombies. They do not smile, they do not talk. Heads are down focusing on cellphones or tablets, browsing emails or watching tv dramas or playing whatever Facebook game seems to be the fad of the day. 

And sadly, I'm one of them. 

I'm no different from any of the other zombies. 

*****

So that's all, folks. A job interview and early morning work beckons tomorrow. 

Self-loathing.

I'm in a self loathing mood again.

I don't really know why I get into these moods. I like to blame it on introversion. It's kinda cheating and saying that I am depressed because my inherent nature makes it so but I think it has a huge part to play in this kind of see-sawing mood that I get myself into.

It happens after every single dance night. Every single dance party. I have a good time somewhere and then I come home, unknowingly mad at myself that I had a good time. Am I restricting myself from having a good time? Is it a bad thing that I want to have a good time but yet, I'm inwardly sabotaging myself? And why on earth would I voluntarily do that to myself? Set myself up for failure?

I dance and dance and have an amazing time and then I hate myself for it.

Time and again, I wonder whether it's worth pursuing this. Maybe they are better off without me. Maybe they would be doing better if I wasn't in the picture.

I wonder, sometimes, about my self-arrogance. I tell myself all the time that I'm an integral part of a team, that I'm part of something bigger than myself. And that's something I tell myself everyday. I wonder if what I really am afraid of is the fact that the words I tell myself on a daily basis is actually a lie. A big fat comforting lie. I want to hear that I am wanted. Needed. Validated. And yet, at the end of the day, I'm cringing because deep down inside, there's a part of me that believes that I'm lying to myself and that it isn't true.

What part of lying do I not understand? Funny, 'cos I lie all the time.

It's too late for thoughts like these. It's too late to want to think about things like these.

It's all or nothing, I tell myself. I keep telling myself that I'm this kind of guy. I am either all in or I am so far out of your universe. I don't play in halves. I'm either in or out and that's that.

But I know that if I pull away, I'm gonna miss it. And yet, if I continue to stay in the game, there'll be repeated moping posts on the blog. What the hell right?

Sigh. Never mind...

Flu-ish

You know how sometimes, you get the kind of flu that you battle for weeks on end? It always starts as an itchy throat and it rears its head some mornings. A bit of a sore throat, blocked nose, that kinda thing? A little hard to breathe initially and then by some miracle, it goes away completely and doesn't bother you.

So what does a normal human being do? Ignore it.

Annnnnddddd....now I've got it. 

Dammit, a month plus of not falling sick and then I finally succumb. Probably thanks to my awesome garlic pills and daily supplements. That said and done, I'm not taking enough veges which is probably causing part of the problem. 

I went to Bintan over the weekend with the gang and the Girlfriend for a quick getaway and just to get out of S'pore. It's amazing what just being an hour away from Merlion City does to ya.

Chill.

The sand wasn't honestly that great. It was cloudy for the best part of the holiday and the sun decided to peek out of the cloud cover 30 minutes into the entire day but meh. Who cared?

Lonely house

Being surrounded by sea and friends, with a fairly cool breeze blowing, we sat on the grass, ate junk food, suntanned, and played cards for a good 2 hours. By the end of it, we felt as though half the day had gone by when only 2 hours had eclipsed. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as the saying goes. 

Beeeerrrr...

I kept fairly sober although the others were ordering rounds pretty much during every single meal. It's a pretty light beer (local brand) and pretty easy to drink. I kept my head as I didn't want to wake up with no recollection of the holiday. 

Obligatory floral picture that everyone takes with a camera

It was a good breath of fresh air. I felt a bit sad having to come back to Merlion City after that. I had plenty of rest, good massages, and a long day of doing nothing but eat, drink, play cards, chit chat, and stare out at the ocean. It was a good break though. I felt ready to return to work.

One of those funky ginger concoctions they give you post massages. I liked the way it burned down my throat.

Bintan reminds me very much of my grandfather's village in Malaysia. The roads are not very well paved, motorcycles are the norm, the sand on the beach is a pretty murky colour, kids running around, and houses made of wood. We stayed in a swanky (by comparison) concrete block with air conditioning. Oh, we're soooo spoilt.

* * * * *

I once asked the Girlfriend what would happen if I uprooted our lives, moved to the country somewhere in the UK and became a farmer. Yeah, I know right. Me. Farmer. I detest animals for a living. Literally. Imagine me having my own bloody cow and chickens and planting veges in the backyard. Must be my introvert me rebelling big time for some stupid reason. 

* * * * *

Stairs

The Higher Authorities, when they call me from time to time, ask about stuff that's been happening in my life that's new. I can hear it in their voices that they're wanting me to go home. As in Aotearoa home. They're wanting to hear that I'm heading back, luggage and boxes in tow, that I'm going home. And I don't know how to tell them that as much as it would be nice for me to head back and see them, I really don't think that Dunners or Wangas or wherever is the right choice for me right now.

Call it a gut feeling, I guess.

I once wrote in an old blog post that I hated the fact that I danced. Because for me, it would be a solid pillar in my life that I would protect to the ends of the earth. But it's good so far. 

And scarily enough, it's the only thing holding me back from moving. If Ceroc Singapore ever ceases to be, I'm out of here faster than lightning, luggage and boxes in tow, Girlfriend in hand.

Blurred.

There's a whole world out there. It's right there, just beyond my reach. And my indecisive self questions whether I'm making the right choice by staying here.

Scrambled...pieces.

I suddenly realised the reason why I used to blog so much.

It's because I used to be on my own so much. I was so used to living this life where yeah, I had a girlfriend overseas but apart from that, I was on my own. I had my friends, I had my family, and we'd talk but there were the glorious days where I would wake up and I would not say a word for the entire day. Bliss much?

Alone @ the beach

I could literally go on for days. There were weekends where I drew my curtains and shut myself in my room, gaming in the glow of the computer screen, playing my music out loud and fast, booming from my speakers. I would step outside my room to grab food or fry an egg or throw something that resembled dinner together and then I'll scurry back into my room again. I'd be a virtual bum for 48 hours and then I'd shave and attempt to look presentable for Monday morning work.

Solitude. It sounds amazing. Not to many but to me, it's something I crave for from time to time. The ability to disappear. Wander around, lost in the faceless crowd that is S'pore on a weekend in a shopping mall, and bask in my anonymity. [That said, I'm probably watching too many spy movies.]

The world seems to move slower when I'm on my own. 

I get lost in myself. Something I don't do very often now. There's too many things to read and see and do and I think I'm probably neglecting myself just a little. 

I miss letting my imagination run. I really do. 

* * * * * 

He's on the bus today.

There's usually this Japanese couple who sit right behind me whenever I get on the No.111 bus. They'll be chattering away in Japanese and she'll lay her head on his shoulder as he looks out the window, one arm draped around her shoulders. 

He's alone today. I take my seat across the aisle from him, dumping down my bag and adjusting the air conditioning.

He's looking out the window, gazing into nothing. His headphones are on. His head bobbed very gently but whether it was the bus or his playlist, I couldn't say. 

As I plugged my own earphones in, his phone rang and he slowly pressed the receive button on his headset. 

"Yes?" 

This was the first time I heard him speak English. Oddly stunted, thick with a Japanese accent. 

"Yes, thank you." His voice broke a little, twisting the "you" into a "yeah." "I'm not doing too good."

His shoulders start heaving, very gently. He blinks rapidly, quickly passes a hand over his eyes and he sniffs. He looks around, wary that he was about to lose it in public. I turn my head, giving him his visual sense of privacy. 

"I miss her too."

The sniffs are muffled by his sleeve as he buries his face for a few seconds. He shudders and then picks up the receiver. "We will be at the Assembly of God church at 9a.m. Saturday morning. I hope you can make it." 

Silence, his head bowed, as though in prayer. And then, a short, "Thank you. Thank you again." 

And then he ends the call. 

Our eyes meet and his are red. He smiles a sad smile and shuffles off the bus as the doors swoosh open. 

* * * * * 

*the above story is all part of my imagination. Really. The man was there today and the lady wasn't and I thought he looked a bit sad and then the creative side of my brain took over. 

Losing Control, Weird Dreams, and a fascination with the dark.

Walk the line.

I've been having this particular recurring dream, ever since I graduated, started working, and moved all over the world.

It's always me, in school. Doesn't really matter where I am. I could be in university, or high school. Strangely enough, I never dream about this in primary school or kindergarten. Huh.

It always starts off with a nagging, knowing feeling inside my skull, telling me that something is wrong. I'm not getting it. I'm not getting the hint. I'm not cued in. I'm not focused. Something lingers at the edge of the periphery of my brain and I'll be damned if I could figure out what it is.

I'm usually sitting down on one of the school benches either at the canteen or one of those that's scattered around the university. Sometimes, a classroom. Or lab. Or practicals. Or something. I'm busy and I'm on my own.

And then someone will come up to me. Sometimes, it's not even someone I know. I've read somewhere that everyone you see in your dream somewhere in real life but no, I don't recognise these people. But I greet them as though I know who they are. Cordially. Not really close friends or anything.

Then, the bombshell drops. "Hey, Paul, you all set for the anatomy test?"

HUH?

What test?

Oh, you know, the one that the lecturer mentioned two weeks ago.

The panic sets in.

There's always variations. It can be biochem, physiology, additional maths (calculus and stats, for you non-Malaysian folks), biology, physics, or something absolutely stupid. The key thing is that I'm unprepared for it. Life throws me a curveball and I get sucker punched by it. Sometimes, it's not even a subject I'm that bad at. Yeah, I wasn't the best student in school or anything but I actually passed those subjects with a decent grade. Funny.

I wake up. Sometimes a bit sweaty. And I wonder to myself, "I've passed this. I've passed all this so long ago. It's been years. Why do I still dream about it?"

Is it a failure thing? A fear of failing again?

Its the devastating, gut-wrenching feeling of having to go through something again. Of the disappointment that just drags you through the day. The constant feeling of needing to study again. Because you cannot. Really cannot. Afford to fail.

Gee, I'm glad it's raining

Some dream analysts have attempted to decode this odd dream phenomenon and they mention that it could be a feeling that I'm not achieving as much as I want to or used to. Hence, the dream of not achieving or failing. I don't know. I can't say. I'm not sure.

For me, it feels like a control issue. Some will say that the fear of falling off a cliff/high place is the dream about control and not having it. For me, I think it's the mental control that I'm losing control. I have no control over what is going to be happening to me regarding said test and it scares the heck out of me. I wonder if it might signify a future assignment/role/challenge of some sort that I am supposed to be facing.

I don't particularly like this feeling. Who would? The feeling that you cannot do anything that would even remotely make a difference. That you are trapped. Stuck. Control does not exist. Not here. Not in this moment.

Talisman.

I wear this bracelet on my right wrist. My watch sits on my left. And my brother's hei matau drapes itself around my neck. One, a reminder that time waits for no man and that a failure to act means a loss for a lifetime. Another, a reminder that I alone can control my fate and that I am responsible for the forseeable future. The last one, a reminder of strength and perseverance through the toughest times, that creativity and innovation is not only required but lauded, and a fact that a brother's love and dedication above all will result in a necklace to die for.

* * * * * 

I have a theory.

I have a theory that introverts are usually night owls. We crave the darkness not because that we're emo hippie beings but we live fully and truly in the darkness of the night. I remembered once writing a story for a competition that never got anywhere but I wrote the words, "I was bathed in sunlight that I could not care for. How I wished for the sun to die." Funny that.

In Aotearoa, the sun is something that everyone looks forward to. Even when the sun becomes slightly hotter than usual and everyone's pretty much stark naked looking for the coolest spot in the house, we all look for the sun. The sun is the healing balm in the midst of winter. It's the one thing that can possibly cure SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder.) But sometimes, the quiet steadfastness of the moon is what we look to. The world is painted in different shades of grey and black and the pearly vagueness of moonshine is what coats our lives in a bleak, yet certain future.

I've always told people that I am a night owl. I don't function too well during the day. Yeah, sure, I'm alive somehow. Maybe the coffee kicks in and I remain awake enough to perform my duties efficiently. But night time is where my fingers dash across the keyboard, seeking release. Night time is where I used to gaze at the moon and I wonder about my future. Night time is where I used to dance with myself, practising spins, hands flying through the air, dancing with a phantom of a partner, perfecting music in my head.

There's something about working at night. The solitude where the world slumbers and you alone hold the key, the secret to something no one else will ever understand because they're drifting off to lalaland and you're conscious. It's like you're part of a lucid dream. And as you end the night, you draw your curtains shut - to block out the sun - and you hibernate within the cocoon of your daylight comas.

That's me. I'm out.

Count me in.

Life's been good to me. So far.

I'm getting good comments on my volunteer work. Dance class is getting exciting. I just had a dinner meeting with Goofy Girl and there's so many exciting ideas all up in the air about what we can do to make ceroc awesome in Merlion City. Of course, we're just starting out and we're still fresh faces but there's so many awesome ideas.

I'm gonna miss this when I leave. I definitely am gonna miss this.

Sometimes, I do ask myself why do all these opportunities come at a point in time when I'm so ready to go. Karma/fate/whatever, why do you do THIS to me? It's hard enough trying to appease everyone but right when I'm about to pack up and leave...suddenly, everything comes to this one point and I'm left literally fumbling a little. I didn't expect this. But then again, these things are NEVER expected. They crash up and out of the blue into your face and by the grace of all that is good and kind that you don't blink and miss out this one chance.

So much can happen. So little time. I mean, it's been 2.5 flippin' years since I've been here. Why now? Why all this suddenly? I like to think I control my fate but now, it just seems slightly cruel. Is my fate going to be in Merlion City for a bit longer? Or for a lot longer? I'm suddenly thinking long term about a whole lot of things that I usually would not think about. Too much to write here. Gotta clear the brain a little.

Birthdays, dance circles, and other shenanigans.

Quite a bit has happened recently. What with me and the Girlfriend aging a bit less gracefully, dancing helping me celebrate by making me dance with both men and women alike (no, not in that way), dinners, cakes, food, and more food, and oh well. I think I’ll let the pictures do the talking.

 
The Girlfriend hit the BIG 27 years young recently and of course, there was cause to celebrate. Cake, candle, a lovely sponge with crunch little bits on the inside and amazingly light cream ended an overly full Japanese buffet lunch.

As with all buffets, the more people eating, the merrier. So we took along one of the Girlfriend’s work colleagues who probably weighs half my weight but eats like a friggin’ cow. Good times.

 
Thought this quite cute so I plopped it up here.

It’s my 3rd birthday here in Sunny S’pore. I did not think I was going to make it this far for this long. There’s a proverb that I can’t quite grasp at that mentions something about time and perseverance and living life but I can’t really remember it. I keep thinking about the times I talked about hating my job so much and all the little different stresses but to be fair, Merlion City has been kind to me. I’ve enjoyed my stay here and with a few different exciting ventures popping up, I’m hoping that I’ll be able to stay for a little longer.

That said, I’m ending up feeling a little bit restricted. After all, tigers are solitary animals and they travel over large distances to get the space they need. (Click on the link if you lurve reading research articles.)

I like how the light blurs and sparkles in the background here. The Girlfriend is a bit up front and centre but I think she was getting slightly annoyed as I had more than a few false starts and with playing on the manual modes and getting apertures and shutter speed correct, she was like “HURRY UP!” Hence, the bad shot.

And here’s a hilarious video of me doing a dance circle at Ceroc the other night.

Thanks, y’all.

I Made it thru’ the Rain – Barry Manilow

We dreamers have our ways
Of facing rainy days
And somehow we survive

It has been quite a few days since I posted here. Probably because I’m now hiding in my diary quite a bit. Is that a bad thing?

Previously, I used to think that it would be cool that my thoughts were privy to the people around me. Of course, not everyone around but enough people that I care about and with whom I would share my thoughts with. But it is starting to get a bit more difficult. Maybe it is an introvert thing. Too much sharing = too little privacy.

This was a compression t shirt that I picked out for a bit of motivation. A Reebok shirt with a Crossfit themed “No Excuses” etched into the sleeve, it made me want a tattoo all the more. Heh. But methinks that my 21 minute a day workout is starting to take effect, eh?

We keep the feelings warm
Protected from the storm
Until our time arrives

 
And in an insane moment of wanting to be fit, I made probably smartest fitness choice of my life – I bought a a pair of gymnastic rings. It also allows me to do my TRX exercises and revise them and heck, the stability required to use them is a pain in the proverbial.

Cleaning up my nutrition recently definitely helps – eating less rice and more protein and veges along with Noah’s arkload of water has had people asking me if I have lost weight. The above picture is what I eat on my cheat day. Yes. Cheat day. A day where my nutritional values go to hell and I am allowed to eat whatever the
!@$#$ I want. I obviously love  my cheat days.

Then one day the sun appears
And we come shining through those lonely years

The above bracelet reads: “Invictus: I am the Master of my Fate, I am the Captain of my Soul.”

I made it through the rain
I kept my world protected
I make it through the rain
I kept my point of view
I made it through the rain
And found myself respected
By the others who got rained on too and made it through

It was taken from a poem of the same name, Invictus, and serves as a daily reminder for me that no matter where I am in Life or what Life decides to throw at me and as much as the Big Guy up there keeps me safe and trouble free, I am ultimately in possession of what happens to my life right now. And hence, I need to make sure that I take the steps to make it happen. Coincidentally, the great Winston Churchill quoted this same exact line in a speech during WWII where the Brits were having their asses handed to them by Germany.

So in the spirit of taking matters in my own hands, I go through literal sweat oceans whenever I exercise. It is definitely a psychological effect, sweating what seems to be the equivalent of a 1.5 litre bottle of water, that I feel slimmer after all the lactic acid burn although there is no evidence showing that more sweat = more weight loss. Unfortunately. And I am aware that it’s not a reputable source so shut up.

For the heck of it and also for the fact that I insanely signed up for a marathon (as in 42.195km, mind you), I joined a “fun” 10km run and dragged the Girlfriend into it. After early morning workouts where we are both left half dead at the fitness corner, she was able to finish the run with a glorious time of 1:30 hours. Not bad for someone who’d never run more than a 5k in her life, eh?

And to prove we managed to actually do it, here’s the related photo with her and her finisher medal. (That flashy thing around her neck with the repeated 2XU branding on it. Me, I’m not wearing the finisher medal but I rarely end up that red without a lot of physical exertion. Trust me on this one.

 
Pardon the poor shot.

This is a picture taken on the same day as the run where, as a treat for both of us for doing such a good job in running that torturous 10k. There’s a secret video of the Girlfriend somewhere repeatedly and breathlessly stating, “No more run” as we came to the finish line. She is soooo cute.

So to celebrate this achievement, we went to watch Le Noir, former Cirque du Soleil performers who portray the “intimate, dark, naughty side of Cirque.” I like. +)

 
That’s the photo blogpost for the last time I didn’t blog until now. Keeping quite busy and there’s quite a lot of things to think about and consider.

*****

On a completely different note, I have paid for and am getting my certification as a Ceroc UK Beginner’s teacher. The course starts tomorrow and requires two whole days of training for me, plus another 3 days of training after work with an intense video examination which will be sent to the UK HQ for dissection before they decide that I am good enough to be one of them.

I had a training session with the girls yesterday who are also looking to become instructors. In a way, I pity them, as they had to learn to lead and also learn to narrate and teach whilst dancing the moves, etc. They’re doing all right, though, but it comes to a serious realization that I might need to “hold the fort” so to speak, for the most bit. Out of all of them, I turn out to be the one with the most dancing/teaching experience so I’m hoping I will be up to the task.

It keeps me interested and this is something that I have always wanted to do for a long time but I have never had the chance or had enough interest to go ahead and complete. 

They say that on your deathbed, you never regret the things you have done [That, I can say, is a lie. There are things I regret already.] but you regret the things that you have never done/had a chance to do. Living it up and beyond? Maybe? Who knows.

To-do-lisT

I wondered how I wandered into this trap.

You know, that trap.

That trap.

The trap that there is so many things to do, so many things to tick off and sign and finish doing that it feels like the list never ends.

Was talking to GrannyGoose and Blondie and Blondie was going on about how us Asians would always plonk ourselves down at our computers and then start typing frantically until the day is done and that we would never stop doing anything until we clock out. In a sense, that's true. I think that's our workaholic side coming through. After all, in a business, there's always things to be done.

Sure, sure, we have to stop and smell the roses but that's for after work, isn't it?

I thought back to when I was working in a rest home and I would be working for 1 hour and then having a tea break and then another 2 hours and there would be a lunch break waiting for me and then after that, half an hour of work and there would be another afternoon tea break and then I'm done for the day. Flip, I spend half my time eating rather than doing anything else! Was chilled out, though, I must say. Spent half the time doing nothing rather than something.

I guess for Blondie to think that we Asians are stressed out people kinda makes sense. We do have quite shocking suicide rates here in good ole' Merlion City. Money's the thing to be worshipped here and you have to work and work and work to get it. There's no other way, no two ways about it. And children and even us young adults are scared into the alternate lives that we might possibly live if we fail to make the cut/get the grade/score that promotion/work up the ladder/earn that pay rise. I mean, heck, even the Internet knows all about the 5 C's of Singapore. Not exactly something to be proud of, really.

But I find myself tired and not just a little bit disgruntled. I'm blurred out of my mind and I'm not even sure that makes sense.

In other news, my Facebook account is back. Welcome back after a year of absence, Poet. Welcome back, indeed.

Yep. Here we are.

I think now I remember why I don't celebrate my birthday.

It's always been too much of a hassle for me.

When I was young, back in the day, I used to enjoy having birthday parties and try to figure out what my friends would get me for my presents.

But then, as I grew up, I started having less and less parties. When my parents asked me what I wanted, I would usually just ask them to cook a favourite dish or two for dinner, and that would be it.

When I moved out on my own and I was flatting with other people, again, I would decline big celebrations and just accept "thanks" and prepared morning tea for the staff that I was working with. Nothing major, mind you. I would then go home, pig out on junk food and play computer games.

Quiet celebrations usually worked well for me. Especially with ones where I end up having existential crises and wondering when Life passed me by.

Today's birthday celebrations went okay, I think. Dinner with colleagues, along with a celebratory cake. Leave from work for a week.

But little things crop up, as per usual, and like flies, it made things not as good.

Made me remember why I've always made my birthday celebration a solitary one.

Next year, remind me that I should disappear for a day and reappear the next day, safe, sound, and sane.

Happy 26th Birthday, me. You ole' ugly piece of work.