Friday, August 05, 2005


It is one in the morning.
I'm wearing this white shirt and black tie, sitting in front of the computer. Fuzzy head, swollen eyes. And my tongue tastes funny.
Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe it's been a while since I match my black tie with white shirt. Maybe it's the nap I took in Satomi's room. Maybe it's the speech that the guest speaker gave during dinner. It's suppose to raise awareness to life. But I thought: if 30,000 children die everyday, what difference does it make for me to stay alive, when life is barely statistcs?
Yes, for the first time, I really feel like killing myself. As in, seriously killing myself. Not the 'I wonder who will come to my funeral?' type, but more like 'would I have enough strength to stab through my own ribs?' kind.
I was staring at my scalpel blade for 30 minutes.
Called some friends, but they really shouldn't care. I tried chatting and talking trash on msn. I'm writing this down now not to draw sympathy, but to stop my mind from thinking of it.
I'm really afraid. I've never been so afraid all my life.
Because death seems tolerable and acceptable.
I know this will be another false attempt. But somehow at this wretched morning, I think I understand why people do it.
Because when you have nothing to look forward to in life but life. That's when hope stalls and becomes parallel to your footsteps.
And that's exactly what's happening to me now.
Tick follows Tock follows Tick. I hope tomorrow comes.