Her heart's on the line

I found a nice place amidst all the hustle and bustle of the city...Nice place for the big city nights. Drinking last night with great company [Sharmila, Jia Ling, Jean, Sam, Mervyn] before everyone except Sharmila traipsed over to Arab Street for more Total Lung Assault. My throat is pretty much fucked. Ugh asthma. After that Jia Ling went home, before the rest cabbed over to Sam's condo to crash. We pitched a tent, watched Borat, dipped our feet into cold water and ate McDonalds. Not necessarily in that order.

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Happiness could come in the form of pills. We could all OD on happy pills. Shoot up on happy pills, snort crushed happy pills, smoke happy pills. Saves the hassle of other overbearing emotions.

Sometimes I honestly why the fuck I bother anymore.

People should learn how to call out the bluffs of other people. Break that tough facade of pretension and find not a heart of stone, but one that beats and bleeds all the same.

Pray for a heart of stone.

I should put an end to all the depressing posts, but I can't seem to find any other way to express my discontentment with everything, everyone, myself.

Some people you care about aren't worth it. They come; they go; through and through, they hurt you.