listening to: Mr Brightside, the killers

i'm one of many, but you're one of one to me.


i realise how crazy i am when i subconsciously imagine unlovely instances in my head and have misunderstandings and arguments and then reconcile with whoever i imagine to be involved, all while waiting for the bus.


it's great to feel the clouds sneezing midnight dew through my window and onto my face. and listening to the familiar sounds of wheels spinning over glistening roads. i can't see the road but i'm imagining it to be as shiny as the roads at bedok were everytime it rained; like someone had littered the road with a million tiny rhinestones. it sounds of good feelings.

it's fun to talk non sense with andrew. i just realised tt the miracle hugs were his in the first place. so maybe only his work and mine don't. bah.

listening to: Balisong, rivermaya