Yes I am indeed a very bad person.
And yeah I visited some places that we've gone before today.
I admit to have mentally murdered my neighbour countless times, because he smokes in the corridor and the cancerous air is inevitably blown into my smoke-free home. Yes I was rude on several occasions to the extent of slamming the wooden door right in his presence, but he still puffs white smoke stoically. Since there wasn't a change, I stopped slamming the door, instead I just push it silently to a close, although the visual aspect doesn't change much.
Like the exact spot, where we had our first, you know.
Albeit I go "Omg, it's that son of a b!tch again," every time I detect the slightest hint of unfiltered cigarette smoke that puts our lives in some helpless jeopardy, it doesn't change the fact that we unwillingly breathe in litres and litres of polluted air daily.
And Thaiexpress lol, it was beside the cold storage.
And why did I type the chunk of text above?
And I wonder when you'll read these not-that-visible texts.
Whoo and I just came back from supper. Nothing beats this kind of late night 'escapades' at Muslim Indian open coffeeshops along Yio Chu Kang road, sauntering into the always freezing cold storage in serangoon gardens(it was as cold months ago), and marvel at the variety of organic goods that I see(1 kg of organic rice costs more than 7 bucks, it's about 3 times higher than the normal rice), but how does the rice prove itself to be organic? Will it be the 'fun' size of the rice grains, due to the less usage of chemical fertilisers, or is it the sheer pleasure of tasting something so uncommon, so that one can say, "aiyo, tell you hor, I eat the organic rice at home leh, it's very the chewy and nice one" to co-workers to elicit their envy?
And you know, sometimes I feel weird when you're around,
I need to sleep, I can't think properly, and the paragraph above didn't quite make sense.
But it's not exactly a bad thing, neither is it anybody's fault.
So sleep.
I shall elaborate at a later date.
And volunteering at the science centre is the best cip you can ever have in this country. The really good thing is, free lunch, no joke.

My disheveled desk

If a cluttered desk signs a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?
- Albert Einstein

It isn't that messy, is it?