1 Litre of Tears.

It rains.

I'm in the midst of watching the Japanese series, 1 Litre of Tears.
(Literally, audiences can really shed a litre of tears =S)
Wondering, how can one normal, contented teenager of 15 can be so strong facing a disease that will disable one's body of its mobility bit by bit, and eventually cause death in about a decade's time? Sleep, and never wake up.

Most will be angry with fate. Teenagers.

"There's only so much a doctor can do. Limitations."

I am thankful. Grateful. Everything.

Wong's family dog returned home after nearly 4 years. I was there when the hainanese dog jolted and dashed out of the house due to the loud thunderstorm. I was there when the children were reunited with their Buddy. Now Buddy's a street smart dog. =D
That's definitely something to cheer. *hopes that Russ returns too =I*


Playing: Mozart's Requiem.

Rain predicts what news I am about to receive.
I said it was a Bore. The same old damn feeling.
That's why I despised the school.
Seniors were the greatest heroes of the school, perhaps.
The History creators. The History demolishers.
The Spartan Hard Work, but The Champions.
A little glimpse of hope, and a few buckets full of wasted emotions.

Wasted.

Wasted.

Wasted.


I skipped my entire youth for this. Now I can't help but feel disgusted.
3 years has passed. 4 Experiences.
Dad was right, I have no more business in school, why should I still place anxieties there?
Mum was right, I wasn't competing anymore, why should I bother to take care of uniform business?
Hui Yen was right. I didn't have to attend another funeral.
Hey, why should we still stab ourselves?

Talk is useless. They don't Care. They don't Cry.

What is Sorry?
Why has it become a little word that slips out so easily?


This town is Agonizing.



Quick. Where's the damn escape route?