yarnie+

I hate travelling on the train by myself. Not because that there is no company to preoccupy my time with. But the fact that my subconscious starts lurking about in my conscious, lured by my gloomy music through my MD, the unhappy crowd of faces within the peak hour rush and the same, constant motif of looking outside the train window. I always wonder what type of stories there are behind each face. I learnt to think more open-mindedly, thinking that my life is nothing compared to the many others that I was facing. There was a bunch of junior Nrth Syd Girls giggling. There's always the depressed looking fat bald guy with a suitcase looking irritated. The mature university student. An old asian woman. The diversity amazes me. And then, there's the young bleak-looking asian man/boy sitting on the train steps trying to look like some hard cunt eating a pork bun. Ungroomed, unclean, uncared. Where i try to show some strength and power, like I've never had anything let me down in life; I'm as weak as a butterfly under a wheel.

Fuck Life.