#42 Late Post: Yesterday

"Turun malam, balik malam."

5.45am

6.42pm

"There's no rest for the weary, just another day grinding up stones till they turn into dust."

#41

Rising up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive

#40 Weary

There's a rap song that I love, and it has a line that goes, "There's no rest for the weary, just another day grinding up stones, till they turn into dust."

And I know too well that there's a Bible verse that goes like "Come to me, all who are weary, and I will give you rest." (Or something like that.)

These past two or three weeks have been tiring. The only thing that's keeping me alive is probably the fear of taking my own life and end up executing a failed suicide which could lead to paralysis or an arrest by the police. And I know too well that my capability of still having that rational thought means one thing―I am still in control. I can still do this, I can still live and wait for a better day.

The thing is, in those past weeks, good things still happened. There were so many moments that made me feel loved and appreciated and acknowledged. But sometimes I find myself sitting on the bus and the thoughts come without warning, and I get angry and sad and shaky again.

With assignments all coming in, things are getting more and more tiring and I find myself sleeping at the oddest of hours, and I no longer have the chance to nap, and morning starts extra early on days when I have classes. And on days when I don't have classes, I still need to board a bus, head to college, and go for group discussions and practices, especially this one assignment on a play/theatre that seems like the highlight for this semester's assignments.

Our first practice began yesterday, which was a mixture of both a good and a bad day. I waited at the bus stop for nearly an hour, and the jam made it worst because cars moved slowly and it wasn't  a pleasant experience, sitting by the roadside while people stare at you as their cars crawl right in front of you. I played the alpha (-male?) stare game (that's what I call it), which is a game I invented when strangers give me a nosey stare. The rules of the game is simple: Stare back until they're the first to break the eye contact and embarrassingly look elsewhere as they realise they've been caught staring.

Two buses heading to the opposite direction (Serian) passed by and none came from Serian to Kuching. It was very frustrating, and that kind of gave me the understanding on why people don't want to become bus wankers. But as I sat there waiting, and the second bus from Kuching to Serian passed by, I got reminded again why being a bus wanker is fun. Because the second bus was driven by the Capman driver (I decided to name him Capman because he wears a cap all the time) and he did one thing that made me smile (my first smile of the day, again). I was there, across the road, and he was there, driving his bus, but he pointed at me and made that "A-ha, it's you!" face, and raised his hand at me. I waved at him and smiled, and I suddenly felt like I'm a certified passenger now.

The practice session was cool, and I brought my ukulele along because there's one scene in which I will be playing the ukulele with another coursemate. I used to say that ukuleles are like guitars for sissies, but right now I really enjoy playing it. It sounds a lot happier than guitars and some songs really sound better on it.

But as I arrived at the bus station to return home, my usual bus wasn't around, and there it was, that bus I boarded before my public speaking competition on Saturday (also the bus I have to unwillingly board whenever Capman isn't around). And the grumpyolddriver was there, and he stared at me, and I looked at him with my angsty teen glance. Because I really hate what he did to me last Saturday. As if enough shouts and words haven't hurt me enough throughout the week, and he added insult to injury. So I walked away, sat far from his bus and out of his sight, not caring that his bus would be the soonest to leave, because I'd rather wait for one or two hours for the next bus. I didn't want to see his face and allow him to speak harshly to me again.

So I ignored how that bus left the station at 4, and I was sitting there since 3.15, and I let my mind wander. I was there, in my hoodie, with my ukulele, and I didn't give a damn on how miserable I looked, because I didn't want to really head home, and I didn't really want to live anymore, and damn it, why is everything making me feel so weary. I can write this way because at the very moment I'm typing this down I think I feel a bit OK. But God knows how my feelings will change in the next hour.

Before 4 the bus I used to routinely hop on at 9am Tuesdays came. I call the driver the detacheddriver. He isn't friendly in any way at all, but I still prefer him than the grumpyolddriver. So I waited for the grumpyolddriver to leave, then board the detacheddriver's bus. I prayed hard that he wouldn't ask me why the heck did I purposely refuse to leave on a bus that had just left, instead of sitting there like an idiot wasting time, but he's so detached, he doesn't ask those kind of questions. I napped for a while until the bus finally moved half an hour later.

I was still feeling shitty. But as we stopped at SGH, a pleasant surprise came. A senior from Intec boarded the bus! Out of so many other days, other times, and other places! I swear I felt like crying. It was damn good, damn comforting to look into the eyes of a familiar person who just shines with compassion. We didn't get to talk for long, because she got off a few stations away, but it felt very life-saving because there's that single person who stared into your eyes and asked you how you're doing and it felt damn good to say that word calmly, full of acceptance, that word, that phrase of "I got terminated," and I realised that that no longer contributed to the baggage on my shoulders, but other things are.

And I watched closely on how she carried herself and presented herself to the world, and I realise once again how perhaps we preach too much. Because the way she got off the bus, and said thank you to the driver, her tone, the volume of her voice, the way she gave a pat on my back before she left, it made me rethink of the thoughts I had the previous day―about the sufferings and weariness in this world, and how it's not surprising that some people lose their faith. Because her actions, the words she said to me, it just kept me thinking that if Jesus was there on the bus, he'd be smiling at her.

And I felt empty again when I was left alone. But the brief unexpected meeting left a huge impact on me. I reached home feeling terrible, but the coincidence got me thinking that there is something in this world worth living for.

I never expected my final quarter of this year would end this way. During the first three quarters I was very optimistic and happy. But now, with only less that 7 weeks away until the new year, some days just make me feel weary.

Today's been tiring as well. But I had fun singing and playing guitar and ukulele before and during the practice. And I hopped on the peaceful 8am ride which I really really love. And I returned home on my usual bus, and although I presented myself terribly on that bad day I planned to hop a ride to Serian (the driver laughed as I asked him whether I could ride to Serian then back again―to which he added that isn't possible because he won't be leaving Serian until the next morning), I think I have overcome the embarrassment, and when I paid my fare and when I said thanks as I got off the bus, he answered me nicely so I guess he had seen far worse things than a college student sulking throughout a ride and darting out of a bus in the heavy rain. Sadness and anger can make you do foolish things.

I don't know what tomorrow may bring. Each day I live with a certain worry playing in my head, and sometimes I'm suddenly angry when I really don't want to feel angry. And sometimes I try my best to get myself feel angry but I feel calm instead. It's really tricky. There's no other way I can describe the thing without opening up too much and telling the whole world something a bit too personal. And that got me thinking too, the fact that other people who I've met today also hide a certain problem that's too personal for them to tell others, and that also means they're hiding some pain and anger and frustration too, and that thought alone makes me think I'm not the only one with worries and fears.

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#36 Solo Bus Road Trip

(That didn't happen..)

It's November, a new month, but I'm still carrying a baggage from last month, so last night I made a decision. I made a decision to say

Feck it tomorrow I will go for a solo road trip by bus to Serian.

It made me a little excited to face the new day.

What would you do if you weren't afraid? I wrote on the palm of my hand. This is it. Let's do this. Let's sit for two hours on the bus from one town to another. Let's unload the baggages throughout the unfamiliar route. Let's feel free. Let's feel alive.

But little did I know my plan wasn't going to work out, due to:
1. Timing.
2. The assumption that the bus will leave Serian after that.

So now I am at home feeling a bit stupid because I could've been in another town at this very moment, if, if I didn't make some miscalculations and assumptions. And the baggage is still here.

And the driver gave me a legit laugh, and probably a weird stare, because who the hell wants to go to another town and come back straight away? Now I can't bring myself to board his bus ever again. He's going to remember me as a weirdo.

I still want the road trip to happen though. Might devise a new plan. If by this week things remain unchanged, I swear I will need this plan to work more than ever. Maybe I'll find an earlier timing. Maybe. Or maybe it will just remain as one of the many plans I never succeed to execute.

And maybe, just maybe, the attack of the monster will happen again, and if that happens, then I don't know what I should do.

#27 Letters and Confessions

Weeks ago a good friend (hi, friend) shared one good blog post written in the form of letters to strangers. Friend also adopted this style in her recent blog posts. I really think it's a great format, so today I think I want to adopt it too, just for this single post. I promise the next ones will be written in my usual style hahaha.

Technically my personal journal entries are written in the format of Dear Friend, and end with Love Always, and I did that after reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower because I kinda thought it's cool to imagine that I'm writing them to a friend, whoever the friend is. 

Enough with the intro, here are how some letters would look like if I were to write about today to a bunch of random people:

------------------

Dear Self,

You foolish kid. Why would you wait at the bus stop at 5.40am when you already knew that last week's bus came at 6.05am? Why can't you relax a bit and stop being paranoid of missing the morning bus? Because if you miss that one, there's surely another bus, and well, who cares about coming to class late? No one is punctual anyway. But I gotta pat you on the back for waking up early and feeling so energetic at 5am although you didn't really sleep well because of the coffee yesterday. Let's walk to the bus stop a bit late tomorrow, aite?

Love always,

Fee

Dear the snails that I stepped on at the bus stop,

Rest in peace, amigos. I swear I didn't step on you guys on purpose. It was still dark, and I wasn't really looking down, so you could imagine my horror when I heard that crunching sound beneath the soles of my trainers. I immediately knew I had killed something and crushed them to death, for I am not a natural killer. I never harm snails on purpose. I'm really, really sorry. Maybe I should bring a torchlight next time.

Love always,

The owner of the blue trainers

Dear friend 1, 

Thanks for tagging me on a picture of us two years ago. I'm sorry back then I didn't trust you and the bunch because I was a foolish, defensive, unlovable, a bit too careful person. Sorry I didn't approve the picture to appear on my timeline though, because I don't want some people to know I ended up at this university. You and the bunch always tag our uni location and hashtag our uni name, but you know the way they look at us, don't you? We're underdogs, the less likely to succeed, compared to those kids from public unis. A man at church keeps on sending that message to dad. It hurts me, the way they look at us. But I'm proud to have known you and the bunch. I thought you guys were just a bunch of rowdy, unmotivated kids, but you guys have hopes and dreams too. They don't know our story. 

Love always,

Fio

Dear Dr. X,

I get that you're proud of your background and years of experience, but it would be cooler if you deliver the lesson more than you talk about your life stories. It was cool during the first week, but now it's getting old. Now in case one of the people from uni discovers my blog and know I'm talking about you, don't get me wrong. I like you. But now I'm beginning to see you as Gilderoy Lockhart..

Love always,

That bored student

Dear friend 2,

Thanks for the cucur. And thanks for listening to my rants and weighing together the effects of escaping the 2pm class. You rock.

Love always,

Fio

Dear Miss X,

If only, if only you didn't respond sarcastically and encouraged a little bit of participation in your classes, I would've had the motivation to at least show up and sit through your whole lesson. But it's week 2 and I see no end to this suffering, and the fact that I need to see you for three times in a week just makes me want to die. Don't get me wrong, I could have liked you, but you have absolutely zero sense of humour and that kills me. So I figured, it's better to escape your class now than to escape in the future weeks because I'd need to come to listen to explanations on assignments. I know, you don't lose anything. I'm the one paying for my education, and I am solely responsible for the actions that I take. I'm sorry I escaped your class though. It was a random decision, totally unplanned. I was too comfortable at the library and was very lazy to leave. Sorry. I'll never skip your classes ever again. Unless I feel like it next time.

Love always, 

That annoyed student

Dear mum and dad,

Lol sorry mum and dad. I purposely escaped one class today for the first time ever. But don't worry, for the whole time when I was supposed to be sitting in that class, I was actually sitting at the library so comfortably, reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. I know, dad, you wouldn't be proud of hearing this, because you paid for the tuition fees but I chose to educate myself at the library instead. And mum, it wasn't like I was loitering around smoking cigarettes or karaoke-ing with a bunch of friends, right? I still feel very sinful though, because the both of you expected I was attending class listening to a lecture. But I was feeling a bit adventurous and YOLO-ish. I'm sorry this is going to be a secret that I carry to my deathbed lol, but trust me, mum and dad, I don't think I miss out so much for choosing to not attend that class. In fact, I felt more accomplished that I managed to finish that Harry Potter book.

Love always,

Your problem child

Dear bus driver,

When that mentally ill guy spoke so harshly to you I saw how your smile vanished at an instant. It must be tiring, to be treated like that, but they don't really know what they've done, right? And I imagine you meeting these kind of people every single day and boy, does that sometimes make you feel like you wish you were doing something else instead of driving for a bunch of scary strangers who talk to you like you're not worthy of some respect? I still look at you and wonder is this the job that mum and dad wanted you to do? And when you were a kid, what actually did you dream of doing? When I hopped off the bus and said thank you, I hope you understand that I said so because I really mean it.

Love always,

The passenger

Dear Kitty,

What a pleasant surprise it is to see you sleeping, curling so comfortably in my room as I opened the door. It's so good to be able to sleep so soundly like you. In fact as I'm typing this letter to you, you're still there lol. 

Love always,

Your, uh, what's our relationship, Kitty?

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Dear random reader, 

Ayyy lmao. Would you like a letter from me? Here, have a letter. A. (Geddit, geddit?) :3

Love always,

Me.

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Two more I forgot:

Dear random pak cik,

Pak Cik, that's kind of creepy, ohkay. Next time of you want to sit at the same table with a girl who's sitting alone in the library, can you please acknowledge her presence and smile first? You came there suddenly, pulled the chair and didn't even look at me. And that's not the first time a stranger at the library did that to me. You're the second. The first, I thought I actually died and turned into a ghost and that's why I'm invisible. But getting this for the second time, ugh, it shows how invisible I am hahaha. And there were other tables with vacant seats, so I'm wondering what made you choose my table? Do I look so naive and harmless? Is that actually a good thing? I don't know, pak cik. Maybe you didn't want to smile because these days it's creepier to smile, or maybe you didn't bother asking if you could sit there, because it's a public place after all. I just sometimes wish people could treat each other better without being afraid of any hidden intentions. It's so hard to become an adult, to become a person with a cautious mind, because that's what happens to your mind when you lose your childhood innocence. But then that's a necessary survival skill. Lol, what a complicated world we live in, pak cik.

Love always,

The young woman reading Harry Potter

Dear pak cik on the morning bus,

You said the most absurd thing I've heard today. When the woman wanted to sit at the seat next to you and asked whether you could move your basket, you answered her "Bakul saya nak duduk." What is your basket, a frigging object with feelings? At that point I didn't know whether I should laugh or cry, because darn it, just darn it. I don't know what to say.

Love always,

Just another passenger

#24 Canned Coffee

Lyrics:

Took a sip 

of the drink 

you had 30 minutes ago 

Just to get the taste 

of how it is 

to be you 

Walked the path 

that you've left 30 minutes ago 

I wonder how 

it feels like 

to walk 

in your shoes 

Sometimes they say it's written 

In this life there's no escaping 

But do you ever find yourself dreaming? 

Dreaming of a better day 

And a reason for you to stay? 

Or do the questions simply fleet away? 

I'm not you and I'll never be 

But I see your smile that you never see 

And I will never know your story 

But you've sparked a light inside me 

Take a look 

at their faces 30 years ago 

Is this the job 

that mum and dad 

wanted you 

to do? 

If you could turn back the time 

to 30 years ago 

With big bright eyes, 

stars in the sky, 

you see your hopes 

way up high 

I'm not you and I'll never be 

I can't see the answers that will set yourself free 

For I will never know your story 

But I see your smile and you're good enough to me 

I see your smile and I wish that you can see 

You can change the world from wherever you may be 

You've showed me sometimes some things aren't meant to be 

So sip away the bitterness of that canned coffee 

Sip away the bitterness of that canned coffee 

Sip away the bitterness of that canned coffee. 

So I actually recorded this twice because I wanted to make one recording right away on the night I finished writing it, but I had to wake up before 5am the following day, so I made a quick audio recording on my phone first, just in case I'd die the next day without the chance to actually record this haha. Of course I'm kidding. I made a quick recording in case I forgot how I'm supposed to sing some parts.

This song is basically about many things. But the main thing is perhaps about the realities about adulthood, how we leave our innocent childhood dreams and do realistic jobs instead because there are bills to pay and mouths to feed.

I wasn't particularly in a good mood when I wrote this. In fact, it was my frustration that motivated me to pick up my guitar and hum something, then write something. Here's some stuff I wrote about the song that night:

Sorry I'm instablogging again. I've just had a pretty bad first day of the semester. So I drank that canned coffee I've been saving, and moments later I found some random lyrics appearing in my head. I've heard a very good advice some time ago--about choosing to write whenever you're very happy or very sad or very mad. It's funny because I felt so shitty on the ride home today, but I saw a road construction worker being half submerged in a drain, in the rain, and right now I'm thinking of adults all around the world trapped in shit jobs (I've seen many of them during my bus rides, and I personally know some adults who don't like their jobs) and now I'm singing about them. I'm singing about drinking coffee, becoming adult, and looking at the faces of frustrated men and women who have their dreams crushed. Damn, why is this coffee giving me the feels?

I'd actually love to write about what came into my mind when I wrote those individual verses, but I'm feeling a bit lazy now.

Technically I've been wanting to write a song with this theme for quite a long time. But no, this theme had never really concerned me before all these bus rides I'm having. The bad day and seeing the road construction worker half submerged in the drain, in the rain, were two main things which finally made this song happen. Everything else is an accumulation of thoughts after:

• almost every day listening to dad complain about his job and colleagues
• seeing the face of the detached driver and wondering whether he's like my dad too, hating what he's doing
• seeing how out of place the political spy driver looks like, and whether his mum and dad had higher expectations on him when he was younger
• seeing how someone close to me was hopeful of an ambition that someone didn't agree on
• seeing myself weirdly being OK to live an 'average' life, after almost killing myself for failing to become a fucking doctor lol
• seeing the faces of other strangers on bus rides and wondering what their childhood dreams were, and how many of them are actually living up to their potentials
• and most importantly, seeing people working hard yet can still smile and appear like they love their job although they're living some sort of ordinary, simple life.

There you have it, this song is basically just thoughts and stories of some people who I know and who I don't really know. 

And I'm happy I wrote this. It might not be my personal best, but it was created right from my heart.

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#23 Underestimating 5.30

I'm having an earlier day than usual. In fact, it's a bit unusual for me to blog in the morning but hey, I'm feeling like it. This blogger app makes life easier too lol.

With a new set of enthusiasm and a reminder that hey, you only have a bad day if you think it's a bad day, I started my day at 4.50am feeling completely awake. Perhaps it was because of the coffee I had yesterday evening.

Today is a special day because I made a new resolution: to hop on the first bus in the morning to head to my 8am class. The one and only time I have ever done this was when the car broke down and I had no other options. I remember that was when I wrote the song with the lyrics I breathe in ice and my lungs spit smoke while grey clouds cover up eyes of hope. I was that depressed, alright. The lyrics meant: Fuck the air is so cold in the morning but it's damn polluted and I feel like coughing up this black fume and damn I can't see anything good in my future. Hah! Genius, right?

Anyway, let's get back to this morning. I walked out of the house at exactly 5.30am, only to feel a bit horrified that it's so fucking dark outside and perhaps that's why my mum insisted that I should wake her up and let her walk me to the bus stop, but I refused. I left home like a thief and a street kid at the same time, but felt slightly stupid for underestimating how dark it is and how hard it is to cross the main road when you can't see the shape of the vehicles, but only their lights. Not that it mattered though. Plus, it's a lot easier to cross at 5.30 than say, 5.50 when there are a lot more vehicles.

As I approached the junction, I saw an empty STC bus passing by, meaning it came from the station and is beginning it's first journey of the day. I cursed under my breath because I missed that one, but came to my senses that if I hopped on that one, it would mean I'd arrive at college at 6.30 and who the heck comes to college at 6.30? So I felt better again.

So I sat at the bus stop in the dark feeling stupid again because how the heck am I going to see the bus? Should I rely on my sense of hearing? And why on earth is there nobody around?

So I hummed James's Bay Let it Go just because it's my bus stop theme song (no reason actually..)

Then a mother and her daughter came at 5.40 and two makciks (who were already fully awake, chatting so enthusiastically) came at 5.50.

So my mind went aha. So there's this noob who came at 5.30, and there's these intermediate level passengers who came at 5.40 and now there's these two advanced level regulars at 5.50 who actually know the trick. So today I learnt something the textbook never taught me. And they all looked at me weird, sort of welcoming me to the early morning bus wanker club, but perhaps half terrified looking at me in my black hoodie sitting in the dark alone. I love terrifying people in my black hoodie. The looks they give me are always priceless. This isn't the first time I did so haa.

-Apparently I couldn't finish this blog post before class began, and now I'm back at home.-

So to pick up the story where I left it, hahh. Guess what? The bus arrived at 6.05am or something. And it was the air conditioned bus I was on yesterday evening, with the grumpy old driver. I sat at the front row because the bus was surprisingly full. It's a very interesting bus ride, because almost everyone there was either going to work, or going to the small towns to buy lauk and perhaps have breakfast, but the majority hopped off at the General Hospital, meaning, well, probably half of the bus had hospital appointments to attend. The demographics was so diverse that if you were a photographer I think you could capture the essence of suburban life in Kuching. I kid you not wehh.

I gave up my seat to a grandma and her little granddaughter. My mistake though was that I didn't take off my earphones, so when she didn't sit right away, I thought she refused to sit, so I repeated my invitation for her to sit there, and that made it twice, and now I begin to think I was sort of ordering her to sit, because apparently she didn't sit right away because the bus was moving fast and she wanted to wait for the bus to stop at the traffic light first. Told you I'm a fucking loser at communication skills.

Anyway right after the sun began to emerge I felt a great feeling inside me, a feeling of wow just wow woke up at 4.50 and now I'm at town at 7.30. I marched happily to college, feeling so alive and independent and capable of taking care of myself. As soon as I settled down, I took a selfie and sent to to my mum saying that I'm safe and sound because she sounded like I was going to leave for war or something when I told her I want to start riding the early morning bus.

Class was lol I still need time to adapt with this tutor who I barely know.

And the second subject was good because the tutor taught us last semester and she's alright. The schedule for these two subjects are clashing though so I might need to come to college on another day or time because the timing will be changed.

We had an introduction session because some of us were unfamiliar with each other. And I trembled and fidgeted for no real reason. I hate myself so much.

At the end of the lesson (which was a brief lesson because oh come on, it's the first week..) I marched to the station hoping I could catch a bus at a good enough timing, but I saw a full bus leaving. I almost wanted to stop it, but it looked so full and it was an air conditioned bus, so I was like well feck it, it's Friday and I won't die waiting for another emptier bus.

I then saw my favourite bus, but not a single soul was there. In front of it on the opposite side of the station, was another old bus, written 3A. And behind it was an air conditioned bus, also following the 3A route.

So noobs, welcome to Kuching, where the buses can confuse you and you don't know which one you should hop on. Of course, you could ask, but you need to ask the right people.

And here's your friend who is damn lazy to ask, so she hopped on option no. 2 since it was parked in front of the rest.

I assumed it would move at 10.30am, so I ate an untasty doughnut I bought earlier on, but it was good enough to keep my hunger away. I had no breakfast sobs sobs.

A woman then came, and told me the air conditioned bus will move at 11, so I was like okay let's just stay here because old buses are way cooler than new buses.

But minutes later the driver came, and looked at me, and I looked at him, and he looked at me, and I looked at him again (apparently in this life I am not the only hesitant person I have ever known). When I was about to ask him what time will the bus be moving, he pointed towards my favourite bus on the other side of the station, saying that one will move at 10.30am.

At that moment I swear I didn't know what to feel. It's good to be on that bus again, but dios mio, this is out of routine, and I've never came home before noon on any bus rides (well technically I used to come home this early before I got myself a library card..) and, and, my biggest fear was that..

What if the driver thinks I'm a stalker, a creep, a weirdo?

I went to that bus anyway lol.

After buying myself a small carton of milk (enough coffee for now..) and after resisting not to appear more like a thief (the tauke was looking at me suspiciously, I couldn't tahan not to thiefify myself because I enjoy seeing people looking at me suspiciously..), I boarded the bus again, right before the political spy driver approached me for the fare, and he gave me my third suspicious stare of the day.

Stare number 1: Look, daughter, there's a serial killer in black hoodie about to start a shooting spree at the dark bus stop!

Stare number 2: She's a milk shoplifter! Milk shoplifter! Better follow her as close as possible, just look at the way she's pretending to stare at the drinks confusedly!

Stare number 3: Oh hai it's you again, are you stalking me? What are you doing here on a Friday morning, stalking me like on your Tuesday evenings?

So yeah..I still love this bus ride anyway. It made my day, because for the first time I was on this bus on a sunny morning with the sky above me ever so blue, which is totally the opposite to my usual rides on this bus, always dark and gloomy and hahhh, raining.

I think a guy who hopped on the ride was my primary school classmate, but I didn't say hi, in case he wasn't him. But I was kind of sure. It saddened me a bit. Because we were new kids in school when we entered together at Primary 5. He was a bright kid, with a pretty handwriting, in fact so pretty for an 11 year old boy. We used to be friends, in some sort of way. At that age, your classmates were your friends. I have his biodata in my biodata book. Sometime in secondary school he mixed with the wrong crowd, and I heard his family fell apart or something, and he changed so much since then. It's pretty messed up, this life we're living. When I saw him on the bus I only remember him as that kid back in primary school.

Anyway the funny thing was that the two makciks who were on my ride to town happened to hop on my ride home from the small town nearby. I was like lel well hello we meet again.

And there was yet another mentally ill person on the bus. She didn't disturb anyone, but when the driver was explaining the route to some confused passengers, she joined in and muttered some random places around town.

Meanwhile, outside the window of the bus we observed how a group of men on motorcycles gathered for what seemed like a commotion, but was probably just catching Pokémons. A brawl would look interesting, and I have to admit now I'm happy I've stopped playing PokémonGo. Seeing people like this just makes the whole thing look ridiculous.

Apart from that there's nothing really much I could recall. I hopped off the bus after cheerfully saying thank you to the driver (and I legitly smiled, just to be extra creepy) and there goes my day.

I finished a song last night, that will probably be shared here soon.

Time for a long weekend before getting back to adapting myself to this weird new routine.

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