It's better to be feared than loved.

The world below seemed so lively. Noises are coming from everywhere. Everyone is on something, he said. So was he and so was I. My head is torn by loud music. I wanted to shut it out but there's no strength in my body to escape. Everyone is so alive. Their bodies suave to each beat. Bouncing toward and away from each other. Perfectly imperfect. No pattern, no rhrythm . Just chaotic movements.

Life's surrounding me, engulfing me in, energizing me. Yet deep inside I felt so lifeless. Is it just me?!? How much of life are those around me living. Is it them that is actually living? How much of them is alive? How much is shattered through the substances that they drive on? Is it reality or just a phase of actions? A collision of events, a union of lost souls?

I sat for hours, undisturbed, unmoved. I froze with every sound that squeak through my ears. It won't escape. It detested against my unwillingness to respond. It protested my sudden disinterest in life. It disapproved of my aloofness. I avoided it at all cost. It was too much to pretend. Too much to worry. Perhaps because I have no power to worry about anything at that moment.

But these people. They are my species but for a couple of hours, even 99.9% of common DNA doesn't bring me to understand them

I've spent the last few days adjusting back to normality. There's a fine line between normality and less weird. It felt as if I'm slowly adjusting to the changes. I'm getting ready, mentally and physically.

Ellen Degeneres spoke about her struggle before making it big in her commencement speech and the key to it, she said, was to know who you really are. She said you would never fail if you truly know who you are because you would know what you really needs and how to get it. I felt like I've been on the same topic for years now yet I couldn't really find a satisfying answer. It just seemed like with different situation, I find something new about myself. I drove myself crazy. Literally.

This brought me back to the idea of maturity. I was told by my boss recently (in a loving manner) that I'm quite immature. A criticism that I am, by no mean, offended. It's a sincere and precise speculation. (Now that I wrote the previous sentence, it seemed to negate my point) But anyhow, there's part of me that don't want to mature. Maturity prevents one from various spontaneous acts. The idea of limitation bothers me. My mother used to describe maturitty as the ripening of a fruit, as if there's a definite point in time where the transition instantaneously happen. I'm not sure if that's truly the case.

I've been drinking and thinking all weekend. Hangover really gives you all the neccessary time in bed to think about things. Lots of things. Random things mostly. I wished I can say that my thought were coherent but they weren't. I can barely sum them up now. But it has definitely giving me perspective. Sometimes you tried so hard to walk forward that you forgot how important to step backward to see the view in its entirely.

I've fought hard. Harder than I should for something I didn't really want. I guess it's just my nature to not let go. But certain things are inevitable, certain process are natural. Water flow from one stream to another, sweep away waiste from one area while nourish the other. I was going against the tides and it was tiring, and confusing.

But there's still part of me that resist the change, part of me are not ready to go with the tide. I guess I just want to stand still, lingering at it for the last few seconds.

So I usually don't like to voice in my opinion about reality show but

ADAM LAMBERT SHOULD OF WON!!!

What are Americans thinking?!? He OBVIOUSLY sings better than Kris.

Alright.. that's the last of my teenager attitude outburst.. But I've just heard this on the radio ten minutes ago on my way home and it still angers me. I'm not being bias because I'm a San Diegan but seriously, How?!?

Errgghh.