1. I do not write with a point of view. My thoughts are ants crawling all across a rotten apple, perhaps in search for a honey trail.
2. I have grown too tired to put my pictures into boxes, labelling them, and shoving them underneath a bed of binary. But whenever I'm in distress I dust off my empty boxes again and shift my memories around, hoping to make sense of them.
3. My spine does not like my laptop. It is curled like a lazy question mark while I keep refreshing university webpages, Facebook, my e-mail inboxes, and other things I'm trying to be interested in. My index finger is automated; attached to the same button with an invisible wire. The wireless internet here is as erratic as my moods, testing my patience just to see another empty block after each click.
4. I was flooding my head with brainless entertainment when a thought suddenly occurred to me: we cling too possessively to our names, and other's. We say the name of our lover out loud, mark territory in someone's life with the intonation of kindness, love, anger, or other emotions. The name is the first abstract item that's given to us. It is our own unique birth token, even though many others in the world might share the same name.
5. Before showering, I intend to do homework, hoping that the drizzle will wake me up. During the shower, my mind is filled up, and I just want to get out as soon as possible. Write. Write. Write. Write everything down.
6. I don't really do writing. There's a leatherbound notebook weeping in my drawer, buried by many other souvenirs I took here from home. I filled the first ten pages or so passionately. Now my fingers are yet again automated, dancing across my laptop's keys without much thought. My mind is empty. I just type. Type. Type. I do not speak; my fingers do.
7. Which makes me wonder why I have always been too lazy to level up my piano skills. It's the same principle as typing, to me at least. I memorise songs with muscle memory. Wake me in the middle of a song and I do not know how to play further, it's as if you pulled me straight out of a dream and I need time to fall asleep again.
8. Everytime I say I'm not tired but when I sit here behind my desk I know I am. Yet whenever I crawl into my queen size bed with nothing beside me but an extra pillow and a teddy bear to hug, I am suddenly wide awake.
9. Yes, I am almost 21 and I still value my plushies a lot. They are all gifts. Most of the plushies which are from myself originate from the fun fair. I like fun fairs. The booming sounds, large plushies and cotton candy. Here in Australia, they call the latter fairy floss. I wonder if people ever realize that candy cotton is full of sugar, so maybe it will give the tooth fairy an excuse to lecture you about flossing.
10. I just held the biggest orange of my life.