t i r e d

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

I will not retaliate any longer.. nor will I ask you to stay....

My heart is so tired that its heartbeat interprets no meaning....

Every night before I sleep, I tell myself it's okay... Tomorrow will be a better day...

I guess Tomorrow will never come... our Tomorrow will never come...

Things no longer feel the same... You are not the same...

So I guess its time to move on ...

I will move on....

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Rush 'MINUTES'..Drive AEROPLANE!

6th day of work..


Marks the worst day! Heard from yesterday, the regional manager of Miri was going to be

around..Better be early and make a good impression! To the horror, I saw the locks on the gate

that seemed so huge! What makes it huge it is because my CAR is LOCKED inside

there! How am I gonna teleport my car out from there? It’s 7.50 a.m. already!



Tried calling some people whom I thought could help me out BUT they switched OFF their

phones! Even him. Of all times! Felt so hopeless that I just wanna walk across the road

without looking… Time is ticking but who’s to care? ONLY ME!!!



The jam was freaking LONG ! And cars were damn SLOW ! Feel like ramming all the

cars or just stop the engine in the middle of the road and just SLEEP!

With that level of stress, it is gonna drive me insane one day! Now what is the use of

leaving a spare time of 45 minutes before departing to your work place when you meet with

BAD LUCK?


My answer is… NO USE!


JUST KILL ME

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About This Blog

A place where I can share my thoughts, interests and dreams to friends and family or even strangers who stumble upon this humble blog of mine~ The title of the blog was adapted from a quote of love from St. Augustine whom once said

"Love is temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become entwined together that is is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.

Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.

Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."



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