tooled...

Sometimes, don't take things so literally. Still, it's interesting to note that there are people who are worried about me, but even more interesting to see that there are more people who apparently have a lack of better reading materials. Nothing to say to that.

Today marks a week since I've been gone. From a social point of view, that's not exactly due for a few hours since I only really left late. Which is more like the next day, but technicalities overruled. Or something like that.

Did a few things today, I suppose. Paid the fees. If anything, don't want to be encumbered, whatever that means. Took a long walk the campus. The air is like hoar frost. Cuttingly crisp, refreshing and depressing, breaks as it binds together. The library around me is vast, and this is only one of three on campus. I don't know how the floors actually can hold up this much paper (and you'd be surprised how much paper weighs). Trying to get a health card ready, but since I have no idea what documents to do, that will have to wait.

Otherwise, all other situations are under control. Waiting till 3 to go back because there's some guy there spraying the house. Lunch was a weird tandoori chicken sandwich with raw spinach. Spinach stalks are tasteless and kinda remind me of chewing grass.

I've been reading around, and I'm ALMOST at the point where I regret not having a best friend. Yes, I've had, and have, many good friends. Close, even. But there's no real substitute for a best friend. You know the classical definition. The one like children have. It's like an iPod, in a sense, this best friend. You can keep your backup data in it freely. Anytime you want, it's ready to amuse you. The only thing it requires is that you attend to it regularly enough to keep the batteries charged, and even if you leave it, you can somehow still come back and it will play music for you.

I have many close friends. Friends who I'd tell a lot of things. But none befitting a best friend title. At least, I don't think so. Don't feel insulted. I do not give out such titles easily. For me, BEING a friend means I'll treat you as how I'd only expect a best friend to treat me.

I've been too clingy. Maybe that's why I don't keep friends for long. Then again, when I don't want company that badly, I don't want company at all. It's sad, in a way. Both approaches yield the same result. I've got good friends, those that I keep at a safe distance. But the moment I try getting close, it's gone. Or when I walk a bit further, they walk off. It's things like that.

Some people were meant to love. Some people, like me, were meant to live alone. They say no man is an island. Well, some of us are peninsulas. We're only thinly connected to the rest of the world. Vast expanses of cold water is still our best friend.

And in a way, that's good.