i should either be a philosopher or a physiologist.
provided i never get to be a game designer.
so, here's an excerpt from my organiser.
chong soon, that friend of mine, understood part of everything.
bleh ><
it would be polite if anyone would credit me.
~
"Reminiscence; nostalgia, is all so soothing. Yet so disgusting somehow. It's like coming out from water and you're all wet, but you want to come back to the cool of the water. However, I know I should never overdo it. Like you could down in the water anytime and die.
I guess this is an exception. I'm dry now...
~~~
Here's a story:
There's this boy who jumped off a cliff, away from what he wanted to be away from.
Somehow, something in him made him grab on and hold back.
Something? Perhaps a slight force of attachment... nevertheless.
And so, there was the poor boy, holding on to cliff side. Holding on, knowing that his hands are aching; that his fingers are pain and trembling.
However, the boy wasn't much of a poor soul.
He wouldn't die falling, he had life down on the green fields below him.
He held on not because he was going to die falling.
He held on because he still wanted to see,
he wanted to see what he had originally left.
But he was hanging on a cliff side.
The boy had to pull himself up with his aching hands and fingers.
And then he pulled himself up in agony.
Pulling together all the strength he had elft.
And when he inched a peek,
There was nothing; bare; desert.
Everything left when he jumped;
He left everything behind and
Everything was not worth his anymore.
He was shocked; dumbfounded; aghast.
and he used up all his strength and fell.
Confused; pained; sad.
He fell to the fields.
Picked himself up again.
He looked back up at the cliff wall.
But
He didn't care anymore.
He did not give a damn
He walked off to the river which had an oak tree at the bend..."