wish i was special.
written: 8:03 p.m. on Saturday, Jan. 27, 2007

**

Currently freaking annoyed by how slow my VM is. Screw BT. But I hate streaming video even more. Fuck this.

Went shopping in the morning with my mom to find myself a nice dress for Chinese New Year. Was at Isetan. Tried on about fourteen dresses altogether. Bought absolutely jack in the end.

The horrible thing about being skinny? You look shapeless and preggers in a dress. That sucks. And all the dresses were size S.

So currently I'm CNY clothes-less and that's utterly tragic. I don't like buying clothes anymore for the following reasons: 1) I don't fucking know what fucking size I wear anymore; 2) buying jeans is a waste of money because they become too big two weeks later; 3) the preceding point applies to skirts as well; 4) actually, the preceding points applies to everything; and 5) I hate it when I buy something new and get all happy about wearing it just to discover it's too big when I put it on. Do you know what a huge-ass waste of money that is? Just kill me.

Amidst the uncontrollable weight loss, the tummy continues to mock me with its abhorrent existence.

Fuck fuck fuck and fuck.

I still want to do CNY in Taipei. I'd freeze, I'd catch pneumonia, I'd fuck up my Public Law assignment, whatever. Just...Taipei. I've missed you so.

**

Sometimes I wish people didn't read this. Or at least, I wish people who know me but aren't close friends of mine didn't read this. In an ideal situation in which my ego weren't a factor, I'd restrict access to this online journal to about five people. No more, no less.

But I couldn't do that. I want an audience, I want to be read, even if most of my entries are meaningless and hackneyed, the style more or less non-existent. I want an audience and I want to be read. The writer's conceit.

Except I'm not really a writer. I don't know what I am. I know what I'm not, but I don't know what I am. I need to believe that this writing thing is mine, that it works, but at times like these when I'm trying to write something but nothing seems to be working, I'm more sceptical and doubtful than ever. And try to imagine just how shitty everything becomes when I read over the crap I've written and am utterly repulsed by its mediocrity and irrelevance.

Irrelevant. That's what I am. And mediocre, too. Write from the heart, but I don't know where that's gone to. Write about what you feel, but nowadays I genuinely don't feel much anymore.

It goes back to Radiohead and their most famous and overrated song, Creep. "I wish I was special - so fucking special."

And you know times are shit when I'm quoting a song I absolutely hate.

**

(Sorry, but seriously, Creep is just whiny and irritating. Coveting Radiohead for Creep is like coveting Nirvana for Smells Like Teen Spirit. I do like Smells Like Teen Spirit, but I think they have a lot of other really good songs too.)

**

Chinese plays are weird.

Chinese is declining in Singapore.

I need to move back to Taipei.

before sunrise // before sunset

Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010