It is 1:48am.

It's all dark and silent.

My dad is groaning in his bed like someone is suffocating him. Bad dreams. He has them all the time. Sometimes I think he is suffocating in this family. Like he is not truly happy. I barely see him smile and laugh. It's the same routines for him. Yet he's here to make sure we turn out alright. What a man. Something I probably never could fully become. Afterall, I'm being a selfish fuck doing what I want to do, with my whole design thing and all.

Only a few hours ago I was on the train back home. I was standing, leaning against a wall thinking I was some bullshit detective in a film noir. Where's the femme fatale? She's at home, devising another plan to enlighten yet ruin my life again. Women are beautiful unpredictable creatures eh? I don't know when I will get over this facade. Probably never. Unless I work in an office with a suit and tie. And start listening to Bett Midler and Britney Spears. Together. And hold cocktail parties with soul-less workmates after my old true friends have dogged me for their respective lives. And do nothing but file earning's reports.

Knowing I'm not the verbal type of guy, I guess I can only communicate myself through imaginary. To create imaginary, you need to create tangible visual items through several different media. Which requires resources, skills and creativity.

Without resources, you have nothing.

Without skills, you can't utilise your creativity.

Without creativity, your skills would be a waste.

All makes sense yeah?

Man, I can't leave my room to go to the toilet >.<" Damn creepy house!



Tribute to all Lord of the Rings fans.