nothing to write again...

I seem to be running out of topics to write about. Oh, about the previous post, don't take it too seriously, it was ramblings from the point of near-meltdown. Seem very prone to that these days. I think I'm starting to let my guard down. People seem to be taking that oppurtunity to screw me at that. Oh well. The hide's still thick, and it's gonna take a sharp stick to pierce it.

Hmm, I got the coaster decorated. Finally. It looks more like a mine now, all covered in dirt and shiny looking rocks. Lolz. But it does look like a mine. I'm thinking of calling it: Silver Minecart Mania! Wahahahaha! Okay. That was lameness, and so totally in character. Like, absolutely, dude. I like, found myself, like, talking like, a total, like, bimbo, like, the other day. Then it went absolutely radical, like totally surfer, like, dude. Like, amazing. Woah.

A heart congratulations to you-know-who-you-are and you-know-who-you-are's other half. Here's wishing you all the best, keep each other happy, do what you can with the time you have, I know it's not long, but time matter little if you mean well. The basis of a good relationship is to expect nothing, hope for the best, prepare for the worst, enjoy what you get, give what you have, live for the ride, and if and when you do, part on good terms, not in a shouting match. Packaging is always nice, but go for the produce it wraps. It's the inside we pay for, not the box. Like, I never knew anyone who bought a big screen TV and throw away the TV just to play with the box. Well, maybe SpongeBob does. Oh, and Patrick Starfish. God bless both of you.

I miss Wen. Saw her on Friday in Coffee Bean. Shouldn't have told her I was there, lolz. Making her lose sleep only. And she's really worked long hours at Papers. Still, like amazingness. She must be the best employee they ever had. They offered her a 50% stake in the company, I think it was, if she ever decides to work permanently with them. Wow. I want leh... But there's also Form 6. Whatever you pick, sweetest, you'll have my support. Just like you give me yours.

Finally starting on that thing I'm supposed to start after talking about it for eons. Like, weight lifting. I noticed I've been getting a lot weaker as well as skinnier lately. The latter is good, the former is not. So, bulking up again, with definition, no less, and increasing strength too. The lazy me still wants my fat ass on the chair typing away, while the I-know-better me wants me to life those dumbells. So I do both. Lolz. Satisfy both urges. Type with one hand with weights in the other. That should work.

Okay, need to make this a really short post. Like, I have many lines to memorize for Macbeth, and I only remember one: How now you secret, black and midnight hags, what is't you do? Lolz. Lameness. And that fucked up English poetry presentation. About a poem I wrote. Well, can't be that bad.

Wen is my beloved. Jin out.

i forgotten why i am...

I really am so screwed. I should die. How much would you people miss me if I were to dissapear from the face of this world entirely. I do not think you could honestly answer that question. I wish myself dead. I'm surprised I'm cracking with so little pressure. Must be the new self that I've become. Normally I wouldn't give a fuck, but now I seem to care so much. I care TOO much. I care where I shouldn't care at all. I want to break a wall, but I only break my hands.
Next semester I have decided that I do not want to do Photography, at least not as a leader. It's fine if I did a good job the first semester and screw the next cuz I'd be leaving. But I'm failing at my first attempt, and it's unlikely I will be trusted again. My integrity and dependibility are being tested here, put on the line, if you wish. Strange, considering I have neither. To have built such a good reputation only to lose it like this is tragic. I'll have to do some serious remedial work if I want to save this, but nothing if I don't. I'm a lazy fucker so I don't think I'm likely to. Besides, what use am I to the college? Sure, nice grades, but that's not the point. Nice grades only count if you are a well rounded person. And me, I'm just round. Fat, that is. And also, I pretty much suck at everything I try. Or my expectations are too high. Whatever. I'm not gonna put myself in these situations again for a long time. Like any lameass, I never learn my lesson.

I don't understand why she loves me. I have none of the redeeming qualities of a good mate. I'm lazy, I'm stupid, I'm arrogant, I'm relatively unattractive, I'm annoying. The list goes on. Oh, self centered too. Only an arrogant pisshole would write about himself just to attract attention to himself. I need a fetish to keep my mind focused, lolz. I'm pretty much going insane, and although me and Wen are both crazy, I don't think it's fair to ask her to love an insane moron. I'm a really bad mate, of any type. Classmate, schoolmate, soulmate, mate-mate. I am so stupidly fucked up at it. Sigh. Overcooked brains.

It's abnormal. I'm not a beautiful person. Not in any way. Not by looks, though I will no longer say I'm ugly, cuz that would make Wen really upset, nor by personality, though I would say I'm interesting. But I will say that I'm less presentable than like. It's a wonder anyone ever seems envious of me. People are never satisfied, true, and everyone has something above everyone else, that's also a given. But somehow, I do not see how my miniscule advantages over people can possibly make my position anymore envious than how I would envy a porn star with a footlong dick. Okay, a bit extreme a comparison. How about, anymore than I'd envy Micheal Jackson for his nice complexion.

Tell me, what do you see in me that's so beautiful that you cannot find in other people? Everyone has that something, but what is it that's mine? I'm not meant to find it, I know, but I defy my fate, I defy everything, and they all come back to rape me. I live contrary to my own advice, but according to my philosophies which I share with everyone. It's a contrarian life for someone built differently from the rest. Mentally I'm built in a seperate color scheme not involving visible light. Physically, I'm built to a rather abnormal specification, but to a normal appearance. If you don't understand, take a look at a recent previous post and you'll see what I mean. Death will claim me through a different way than most people.

I think Wen is making me go crazy. I miss her dearly, hearing her voice is both bliss and torture over the phone. I can hear her, but she's not really here. It's like eating chewing gum, you chew and chew and chew but you can't swallow. Stupidity.

I forgot the real reason I wanted to blog today. The intense rage and depression is gone. I think it was all in the email I wrote to Wen. Maybe I should do something interesting soon. Maybe go get a piercing of some sort somewhere. I can't be responsible for my lack of irresponsibility. I've always been unreliable, so I don't have to worry too much about dissapointing anyone severely. So there.

I love Evon. Jin out.

can you spell S.U.R.V.E.Y.?

Hmm, time for another survey. This time, it will be a numbers game. But first, I think you might like to note the new link in the side. It's another blog I decided to create, chronicling the life of a fictional 21 year old drug pusher. Not that I have any experience of that sort, mind you. Rather, it's like a confessional to him. It's kinda like a diary/novel of sorts. Might pitch this idea to some publications I'm trying to get work in. Oh well. I'm too lazy, I haven't even tried to do anything of the sort. And now on to the survey:

1. How old (young) are you right now?

2. How many hours has it last been since you last picked your nose?

3. How many times have you downed a vodka/brandy/gin/tequila/any-other-alcoholic-drink-above-20%-alcohol?

4. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had in your entire life?

5. How often do you swear in public (approx.)?

6. How many times have you been slapped?

7. How many piercings do you have?

8. How big is your shoe size?

9. How tall are you in feet?

10. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

11. How many times have you failed in a test/exam?

12. How much was the biggest personal expense did you ever make?

13. How much time do you spend in the shower on average?

14. How long do you spend on your hair in the morning?

15. How many different words can you think of that start with X in the next 10 seconds?

16. How many times have you been seen naked/partially undressed?

17. How many fingers do you have on the keyboard right now?

18. How many songs do you have on your computer right now?

19. How often do you sleep after 3 in the morning?

20 How likely are you to answer another quiz on this blog?

Jin out.

fucked up crapness...

Haven't felt this way for some time. So fucked up, confused, stressed, burned, flamed, raped, I don't know how else to describe it. Not entirely a bad thing, cuz I kinda missed the exhilirating burst of furious energy it gives. But after the rather long adrenaline wave (it only seems to happen for me), I feel so moody and depressed.

It kinda like started yesterday. I realised how fucking far behind I was in getting the class photos. That complicated things indefinitely for me. Another thing being that there was a severe lack of photographers with powerful cameras to take photos. And another being that I'm such a bad leader, but let's talk on my inadequacies later. So, we are doing this is in a fucking slipshod manner right now, but it will suffice, if I can add some offhand spice in the photos. IF I can, that is. I'm so doing things better next semester, that is if I still am in the Photography comittee. Fuck that all.

This morning, it was aggravated by my lack of access to fresh contact lenses. I have this new box of lenses, but for some reason I could not find them. Like, never throw away your old lenses unless you are sure there are fresh ones waiting. Which, apparently, I thought I did, and I'm probably right, just that they are waiting in the wrong place. Anyways, I spent a hell of a good time hunting around the house for them, and found not what I was looking for (like duh, cuz I couldn't see much), no thanks at all to anyone for trying to help, cuz they didn't! Like, what the fuck!? I don't care. Anyways, got a fresh pair from Sinar Kota during lunch, feels so much better now. Sigh. But that didn't take away the fucked up mood.

Strangeness, I got myself a Shandy today. I don't normally indulge, either. Waste of two bucks, that was. Impulse shopping is bad. Must remember to pay Wen for the pair of shirts later. Can't have her spending money on my clothes, especially since there's no reason for her to. Which also reminds me, I need to go clothes shopping soon. My wardrobe is filled with oversized clothes, like seriously. And most of them are almost new. Amazingly. Looking in the mirror in the optometrist while paying for the contacts, yeah, seriously, I look nothing like what I used to. Surprised anyone can recognise me. Well, okay, still very dorky and noobish, I'll give you that. And I still look retarded in specs, but what the hell, I'm not spending 300 bucks on something I'm not gonna wear!

Missing Wen so much. Hey, darling, we're joining PokX's table for the prom, k? I don't wanna end up on some table full of weirdos. Well, okay, we're both weird, but the point is let us be with other weirdos we know. Lolz. Adam and Pokx at the table, so you have some people to chat with, while I don't think I know anyone else there either, lolz. I love you, darling!

Hmm, what else can I say? Not much, no thoughts on anything. Oh, wait. I was thinking of starting another blog on some fictional character. Kinda like writing a story. Might even get it published. Hehe. I seem to be on a writer's craze these few weeks. Who knows? Might get it as part of a column! Mwahaha! Intriguing. Okay, that's all I have. Really. Seriously. No joking.

Wen is beloved of me! Jin out.

stupidity...

Reading the newspapers, I realised how truly vapid our world is. Absolutely unintelligble inbeciles run the world, while the intellectual elite are silenced. Either that, or perhaps they are the ones intelligent enough to know not to try to rule the world. It's kinda pointless and not fun trying to play games of brainwork with a bunch of nitwits. Like take for example Malaysian politics. Dolts run the place, I'm telling you. It's only the mental elites that gave up trying to correct them, for one reason it's not worth all that effort getting it running smoothly cuz the moment you turn your back they go do stupid things again. In today's news, this guy was arrested and charged for skipping NS because his family was so poor, he wanted to support them. And his stupid mother supported the move, saying it was good, because then it would teach other youths not to use poverty as an excuse for shirking national duty. Tell me, when since has subjecting yourself to the random whim of some ill-informed and mishappen miscreants that happen to wear cheesy suits and sit in some publicly funded air-conditioned offices constitutes doing national duty? And when since does anyone owe any nation that has taken more than it has given anything? Also, if you note the actual content of this 'national duty' thing, I do not think it's in our nation's interest to be investing so much time and manpower to such a pointless exercise. Discipline does not constitute making mindless lackeys/conscripts out of the thinking youth, at least not by the true definition of. I hate that word now, overused in the wrong context, as is the word study.

I think one thing that absolutely highlights the stupidity of this 'wonderful' nation of ours is the wonderful adaptibility of the people. They take to buzzwords like flies to carrion. I won't even go into how they do it, it makes me feeling like emitting my lunch from the orifice it came through. Ergh. There's very little originality in society in general, that is a given for people, but it seems even more extreme in illustration of this society. When someone uses a word in the news, or on TV or anywhere (note I don't use the word media here, since that's what's commonly used now), everyone uses it to death. That's kinda like fucking it to death. What's up with that? My biggest grudge is the overall lack of originality, not to say that this grudge in itself is anything original, but it is most definitely so in this vapidly moronic society. But then again, it is only us intelligentsia that have any interest in creating originality, while others steal the idea of being original from us and use it to death, whereby being original is no longer original. Vicious cycle it is perhaps, but that's the whole point. The elite are elite because they are like the common, but only in smaller numbers, and on the opposite side of the spectrum.

Wen just sent me an absolutely profound message, not that I haven't heard it before, but in the context in which it was said, it was absolutely profound. I present to you the aforementioned note, unabridged: "To love someone, you have to learn to love yourself first. Guess we're the reason for each other to love ourselves." As you might have noticed from reading these ramblings of a random sort, I do not really love myself. I may be narcissistic (thanks, Wen!), but I did not truly love myself. It was more like a cover for my absolute hatred of my own existence, for the past 17 years. Self absorbed, but not in the way I portrayed. Not sure if anyone else noticed. You know my reasons for hating myself now, but I don't think it was made clear those days. Sweetheart, if you had known me back then, you wouldn't give a fuck about me right now. That much I can say. In fact, I would dare say you would be downright disgusted with the person, regardless of the actual final product. I was. I sometimes still am. And I know many of my 'friends' still are. They know who they are, those who really were my friends, and those who were there to leech. I thank God that you did not know me then. I would probably be lying in some monsoon drain, rotting away by now, had it not been for you. Dramatic, maybe, but definitely possible.

Have you ever explored a person's soul? Or at least try to ride the waves of it? I can't stand to see a girl cry, or a guy cry for that matter. It's usually a reaction of instant regret, although I may not have caused it (but usually I am the cause). I'm a softy, heartless as I usually am. I am what is known as an empath. I can feel other people's emotions, but I usually have no reaction to them. It's a deep delving into both mind and soul, quite torturous sometimes, but it always leaves your own emotions very bland. Maybe that's why I never truly learned to taste life of my own. No pain is greater than your own, no love is deeper than your own, no dream is bleaker than your own, no life is brighter than your own, but yet it is always more extreme when viewed from afar.

One complaint I do get about this blog is that it uses complicated words. Like, a lot of them. And my overabundant use of figurative language annoys many people. I am not a simple person, as much as I am an open book to read. But if you want to read the book, you gotta learn the language. And illiterate people are asked not to approach the tome, because illiterates usually tear books up in frustration at all the dots and lines swimming at them. I hate people who annoy me. Or rather I hate people annoying me. Hate the sin, not the sinner, lolz.

Insanity of my life, I don't know what to do after this year ends. I have no aims, no goals, I am prepared to end my life at that point. I hate indecision. It's quite a waste of time and patience. I was thinking of doing a double major, like probably business with some technical course, but that's only as a safeguard. I feel like I really want to do something artistic. That's what the technically superior creators are drawn to. Hehe, syokness. Vivaldi's Four Seasons is playing in the background. Vanessa Mae is a fantastic violinist. Like I was saying, I am given to the world of technical superiority, but the dark artistic side lures me. I am a power in both, but not omnipotent in either. I am like a wandermage, with skills of all sorts mastered to a relatively high level, but each never a match to the greatest of their own right. I can sling my own defence, but I am helpless in the field of each master. Sigh. The real question is what should I do? My skills extend far, but the roots do not go deep enough to stay, but too deep to replant. Sighness.

I love my sweetheart. Longing for her touch, her voice, her smile, her cute cute giggle (kawaii!!), and her kiss. Hmm, really like that last one, like a lot. But I like being with her most of all. I love you, Wen. Jin out.

poisoned...

Hmm, wonder what you people will react to that title. But then again, I notice few people ever read the titles. Oh well. One thing to note is that Wen is using a template VERY similar to mine, lolz. Go see, she writes beautiful and meaningful poems when she tries. I love you, Wen.

I'm poisoned. Like severely. Badly so. It's so bad, I don't think I'll live out the year. Poisoned, verily so. It courses through my veins, pulses through my insignificant blood vessels, makes its way through my brain, destroying me even as I'm aware of it. Yup. Poisoned badly, and severely so, too. Poison of the incurable kind. It's treatable, but only by mineself. It makes me weak to write this, but the treatment is what keeps me going. Ergh, should be blacking out soon, but I have this innate will of countering all that oppose me. Haven't survived three near death situations for nothing, apparently.

This poison is known by many names, aptly called sloth, or sluggishness, or laziness. Yeah, I coulda saved you people the worry by saying I was lazy the first time, but I'm a dramatist, and a lazy one at that. It's this poison that keeps me from achieving a whoopass lots of stuff. Like my plan to lift some weights today was thwarted by the lure of the couch. My object of completing all the workload of the week so far was annuled by the attraction of the box. Crapness. Buff bod was an objective ever since some time last year, the only thing I've achieved towards that end was the removal of about 50% of the fat obscuring whatever definition I might already have. Still have another 50% to go, and a whole fuckload of chiselling to define the remaining. Yeah, don't need to do that, cuz someone loves me for me already, lolz, but I'm sure she won't mind, ehehe. Also, I need it for the speed I'm trying to build for action photography. You need to have faster reflexes than the subject. Right now, I'm sloth. Yeah, sloth is a temperament/sin/whatever, not only an animal. I'm sloth incarnate! Mwahaha! Oh, I've got homework to do too.

First time in my life, I woke up wanting a good smooch. Like, weirdness. But what I know I long for is her. Yeah. I miss her face, I miss her hands (so soft, very very nice to hold, lolz), I miss her laugh (kawaii! yeah, Japanese for cute), I miss her lips (woohoo!), but most of all I miss her. Sigh. Going insane. No car, and petrol prices just went up. Fuck it! I tell you, I can't stand to see other couples anymore. Before, it was a smirk, a silent laugh, then I continued doing what I was doing. Now, I feel such a melancholic jealosy seeing other couples. It's a sad sigh, a cold laugh, a grim smile. I look down to my left wrist, have a weak snigger to myself (honestly it is a snigger, no idea why), see that stainless steel bang, then I laugh inside. My hair is long enough to cover my eyes in a thin veil, kinda like the way anime characters' do. I find myself wearing blacks a lot more these days.

My mom said I look very skinny today. Ergh. The word skinny has never applied to me. Well, maybe around age 5 and below, but never after that. Maybe I'm regressing? Don't know. But skinny? Wow. She also said I look like some starved wretch, or something like that. I don't recall. I do recall, however, that I was grinning away to myself, and saying something like, not nearly skinny enough. Wow. Anorexic? Or hell bent on reshaping? Yeah, I know I get shot by people all over, in the dark and in the open. I wonder how many 'friends' have taken pot shots at my appearance over the years. Not that I don't do it myself, but I usually make them as fair as I can, also balancing my views with good aspects. Still, I would like to know what my friends secretly think of me. Arrogant is something I know already, I can see it in their eyes. Not that I give any reason for them to think otherwise. I may be blind, I may be foolish, I may be arrogant, but I'm not retarded. I may be heartless (most of the time), I may be souless, I may be lifeless, but I am not dead. Yet. Know that.

I wonder who my friends are sometimes. They seem to only be around when they want to leech off me. Not all of them, some I know are there for me. Likewise, I try to be that for all of them, even though it's harder for me to do that for some. But I feel that a few of them cease being my friends the moment I cease having anything to offer them. I don't really get upset by this, it's been a fact for me for a long time. I've had so many 'best friends' over the course of my life, I can't count anymore. Most have become so out of touch that I no longer acknowledge them, or them me, in public, or anywhere else. I suppose it shows that they were friendships out of circumstance, rather than an actual connection. I don't know. I know their names, I know their faces, I know who they are. But I don't know who I am anymore. Who I am in relation to them. Perhaps a nobody, who will become somebody the moment I become powerful/valuable/important. Then they will gloat to their other 'friends', that guy is my best friend! Yeah, right. Maybe this is another element to the poison?

My blood has been literally poisoned before. Like, bad. Really bad. Ever had a seven inch scar? I do. It will fade, eventually, but never completely. It will remain, in trace, as an unsightly reminder of the time I almost died. They say that when you get appendicitis, you have a few hours to about 2 days to get it removed before it ruptures. When it does rupture, you have about a few hours before septicimia (blood poisoning) inflamation of the inner abdominal tissue set in. When that happens, you die. That leaves you about, oh, 50+ hours to do something? I survived the rupture for two weeks without knowing, feeling only a vague ache, while I should be dead. Septicimia had indeed set in, it was a race to rehydrate and insane doses of antibiotics, which was difficult seeing how I was allergic to penincillin. A surgery that shoulda taken about 45 minutes took about 2 and a half hours. The surgeon couldn't find the remains of the appendix, so he had to call another doctor for a second opinion. They found it about 6 inches higher than where it should be. Yeah. Was admitted to the SJMC on my 14th birthday I think. I don't know how many times I've recounted this story, but as a medical anamoly, it's worth telling in it's own right. It's also a good testimonial to God's healing power. Somehow, I think the Man wanted me alive, seeing as to how He's preserved me for so long. I still wonder what I'm supposed to do before I can finally die in peace. Apparently it's not time yet. Damnation.

I've been rambling for quite some time, considering Evon's not likely to come online. I love her so much, it's really painful sometimes. And it's a big deal for heartless 'ol me. In fact, I was quite the frigid person back in highschool. Well, yeah arrogant too, but frigid. Always thought I'd die an old and bitter bachelor, except I was planning on living past 18. Wow. Such a change, and at such a young age. It worries me what I'll actually do when I start working. I hate that word, work. But I need the money associated with that word. Sigh. Back to the topic, Wen has become quite an obsession with me, but not as much as I would like. Wonder if I ever mentioned, her name is almost the same as my brother's. Lolz. Eu Wen and Ee Wen. Sometimes I wonder if it's a bit like fate. But then again, I don't belive in fate. Mehness.

Crying my eyes out is something I would like to do sometime this week. Just for the sake of. Haven't tried that in a long time. Tears don't come easy to me anymore, not like they used to when I had no life. Sigh. Oh well. It's been quite a long writing so far, I should stop and complete that stupid Data takehome test. 3% thingy. Fucked up. Mehness.

I love Evon, I love Ee Wen, I love my sweetheart! Jin out.

one month...

It's been a month since I actually belonged to someone. Wow. Something I never thought I'd say. I'm normally against the concept of being owned by anyone or anything, especially "big powerful government". Those morons assume that I'll bow to their lame-ass demands just because they sit in comfortable cars and chairs wearing cheesy suits and having their ugly mugs plastered all over cheap newsprint by saying dumbass things like, "don't raise prices, just absorb the fucking costs so that the economy won't spiral out of control..." Blah blah, it's obvious Pak Lah don't know much about anything, it's a wonder I ever had any respect for him. Yeah yeah, you people say respect him cuz he's the leader. Well, first off, he can go kiss my fat ass and polish it to a sheen first. He hasn't done very much as a leader. Come to think of it, neither has Mahathir. But at least Dr M had backbone, if he didn't have much brains. Pak Lah hasn't done anything. And don't get me started with Najib. Oh the fucking moron, along with Anuar Ibrahim and one other guy ruined an entire generation. They should be subjected to a public dissection without anaesthetics, while made to listen to the replays of all their speeches. That's worse than hell.

Damn. Wasted more than 200 words on those morons. Well, basically you can tell I have almost no respect for people who are politicians first and leaders second. Fuck them all. Actually, don't. We don't want them passing their worthless genes down. Mehness. Let us return to more pleasant thoughts.

Oh yes. My first month with Wen. She's probably the best thing that ever happened to me, as opposed to the worst thing that ever happened to me, which is being born, but that's not the issue. She's made me happy for the longest period of my life, ever. We don't see each other as much as I'd like, but I make it a point to make the most of what time we do spend together. Sure, gotten screwed by my parents a few times for extending that time beyond midnight, but it's well worth it, to see her face that much longer, to feel her hands in mine that much longer, to hear her breathing that much longer. Why do I love her? Honestly I don't know. It's that unknown quality about her that does it. Sure, her skills, personality, looks, they really do good at attracting me, but it's that one unnamable thing that seals the envelope. I love her, like really. If it were just the physical aspects, or the mental ones, then it would just be a like. I love her. Note the difference? They say there's nothing more attractive to a guy than a girl who's in love with him. Maybe. No idea. It's probably biological, or whatever. But I do know I love her. That's what counts, no?

The funny thing is that I'm gonna get a lot of "cute cute" comments for this post. Yeah, well, whatever. I know it's not me to do this. At least, not the old me. Well, I've said this many times, but I know some people are not used to the idea yet: I'm not who I used to be. I undergone some majorly drastic changes on account of myself, it's been an overall improvement according to most people, but that's mostly the physical aspect. Yeah, lolz, I know I'm a lot cuter than I used to be (syokness, I had an aunt say that if she was 18, she'd come and get me, lolz), the inside changed a lot too, more for the worse I think. But I say, this is like that S Club 7 song. I'd never had a dream come true, till the day I found Wen, and she found me. Thanks, PokX. Thanks for that random gesture that did the world a great favor by removing me from circulation, and won yourself two coffees, lolz. I love you, too, man! Thanks a load. But you still get only one coffee from me. The other one you claim from her.

Sigh, so happy. I really should be, lolz. Much to do, but once my skies clear, I'll fly away with her, and hopefully never have to return. Still, we will never know what happens till after it does. To speculate is to assume finality prematurely. I love you people for reading this, but after all's written, it remains to be seen what is done. So if you see me not doing what I said I will, remind me.

I adore my dearest Wen! Jin out.