the freaking Programme Room, its door is like, unnoticeable, and i thought they were automatic. apparently they were not so i had stood there like some dumb moron waiting for christmas.
its door seemed to camouflage with the rest, it's like a piece of glass with no handles or 'push' label. how would i have known? only when i saw a live demonstration was i like OH!
had warned Cousie beforehand, cause i know how blurblock she can be as well sometimes.
the freaking table we had sat at was freaking squeaky, and the room was really quiet so we had been damn careful with every little movement. had laughed a lot, just like old times.
borrowed books, before making our way to kfc to have our dinner tgt. met up with my mom, and then eons later parted and here we are.
had been given detention today, but i hadnt gone cause mr syafie always seems to forget. and then during humans, had debated with mrs sherri. yeah, i hadnt gotten what she meant. but she hadnt gotten what i meant either. o well.
i'm kinda impressed with my own reading speed these days. i'd started Me, the Missing, and the Dead this morning and completed it within a few hours. and tomorrow morning, or maybe even tonight, i would start on Split.
want to hear something?
once i, chuang tsu, dreamt i was a butterfly, fluttering here and there; in all ways a butterfly. i enjoyed my freedom as a butterfly, not knowing i was chuang tsu. suddenly i awoke and was surprised to be myself again. now, how can i tell whether i am a man who dreamt that he was a butterfly, or whether i am a butterfly who dreams that he is a man?
means a lot, doesnt it. a quote by Chuang Tsu, had been written at the beginning of Split.
aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. o yeah, i'm still calling you Douche.
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