So... I have no way of knowing if anyone still reads this.
It appears not. But it's alright, I guess.
Leave me a comment if you still manage to find this blog!
... [Not a single fuck was given]
What I don't understand is why there's always this constant "Ooh, who does s/he like? Will it happen? Won't it happen? What's going to actually happen?" and especially the one that my friends apply to me "Ooh Cheng, who do you like now?", because apparently, 100% of the time, I like someone, or am interested in someone.
Yeah, I'm interested, but not in making them my girlfriend. For fuck's sake, I may be attracted to someone, but aren't we all attracted to someone else? How else do we make friends? Just because it's a dinner that I would look forward to, it does not necessarily mean I am romantically invested in the person I am having dinner with.
If you can all make normal friends with people of the opposite sex, why the fuck aren't I allowed to do the same, and not draw attention to myself?
And honestly, my poems are not reflections of my current status of mind. Fucking read them as light entertainment, nothing more. I try to tell a story in poetry form, and quite often it sucks. Fucking deal with it. The topic is all that it is; just a topic, not a fucking manifestation of my desires.
I ain't even angry, just annoyed.
But of course, I lie. No one really takes me seriously any more, so it makes not a single difference.
Nor does anyone read this any more, so it makes no fucking difference.
