A beautiful accidental-stranger once told me – if you have only known a person for an x-period of time, you should not make future plans that will only happen after x-period of time with this person.
It was some kind of mathematical formula he goes by.
His logic being if you have only known that person for a short amount of time, you still can’t be too sure if you would still want to be around this person in the near future. And the amount of time you’ve known this person for will be a good gauge.
My explanation sucks, please see chart:

That is a rubbish theory.

How can time even be a unit to measure connection and soul?
Hor?

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The pursuit of happiness is hard work. What’s worse is when your happiness is pretty much dependent on the people and things around you.
We are so not in control of our own happiness, yet those quotes on Pinterest encourages us endlessly to think that we are. They forgot most of us haven’t attained nirvana yet.

I wake up everyday seeking solace and happiness – in little things like good coffee, listening to songs that I like, choosing to wear clothes that are comfortable to be in, eat things I like to eat, spend time with people I adore, do things that makes me feel good, please people whose feelings I care for.
But at some point, life always has to mess it up, and it is almost always because of people or things around you – a bloody paper cut, a rude stranger, misaligned tables, the coffee which you accidentally spilled (and has to land on your fabric shoe), the wind that messed up your documents, the heavy traffic, the recognition no one gave you, unreciprocated feelings, unfair judgements passed on you, when the things you wish didn’t change changed, when the people you love leave, when you realise that time is all you have and don’t have.
We affect one another and have such a great impact on each others’ lives, and we don’t know it.
The more you care about someone, the more the little things he/she does matter to you, the more you’ll start over-thinking and project every fault onto yourself (ok, maybe this is just me the self-pity-wallow-er). And that’s the time when you need to start to look for that brake pedal and tread carefully.

There are only three different kinds of people in our individual little worlds – people you like, people you do not like, and people whom you feel neutral towards. It’s a tragedy though, that it is often the people whom you feel positively towards who have the biggest effect on you and might possibly inflict the most pain unto you.

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I care too much about how others feel and what they think. The only defiant thing I can manage is to get a new tattoo as a little “Fuck Off” to people who tell me not to get so many tattoos cos the inks are all gonna look like they need ironing once I get older.
I scour for the little joys in life to make up for the gaping void in my heart that’s screaming for attention everyday. Even when I set out wanting to be happy every morning, I cannot be too sure if I can – even when it’s my own bloody feelings, for crying out loud.

I feel irresponsible living in the moment, even when it makes me happy. This must be a heart vs head thing. Why do we always have to “think of the bigger picture” and make so much plans? My grand plans sure have a unglorified track record of failing on me.
Anything good is hardly permanent, it seems. I’m really just scared shitless to take a chance to make something is remotely good any better, you know, self-defence mechanism, just in case if it doesn’t work out, then at least it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

What is it, really?
Fuck, I lost my train of thought, and I am starting to feel a little delirious.
I think I still don’t know what I am; I don’t even know where to look for answers, and don’t really have the balls to begin looking.

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Fuck it’s 6:53am. The birds are chirping and my neighbour just left for work. I’m starting to see neon bits floating around in my vision, like the kind you see in your eyes after a hard sneeze, if you know what I’m talking about.