My Time Machine I came upon an old notebook while I was sorting through a pile of old books and magazines. I leafed through the faded pages and was surprised to find out that I kept a diary in English. Well actually I can't really call it a diary, for they are simply random thoughts put down in a childish scrawl. It reminded me of a time when I was young and naive. Puberty and high school were horrible for me and I was an anxious and somewhat quirky child. I spent most of my time alone, talking to myself and writing odd stories. Much of my attention centered on the sentimentality that can consume girls during their high-school years. But it really was fun reading what I doodled years ago. Thank god now I’ve grown up and have got rid of all the nightmares from the past that used to hunt me like a ghost. I am mature and much more optimistic. Anyhow I decided to type some parts of it into the computer, in case that I might lose my notebook (I don't keep a tidy room). >> When I'm on a train I would imagine a creepy monster picking up the locomotive and flinging all the carriages away as if he is cracking a whip... And I would wonder where I end up, in an odd cave or head broken and bleeding in the coach. Sometimes there are beggars on the train. I feel so sad every time I hear the staff saying things like 'begging prohibited'. If I come down to begging and all I hear is just these cold and heartless words I would be so sad. >> "What are you guys talking about? All right whatever you are talking about I don't care and don't want to hear." ---My repeating inner voice every time when I'm eating with a bunch of people. Not sure how to communicate with others, I'm really embarrassed of my silence. >> I love nights. If my mind could be this active during the day I might have killed more than ten people. >> I thought about it for a long while without figuring out how exactly I want others to comfort me when I'm dying for comforts. I guess words are never going to help. I want something tangible. Either give me money or kill me will do. I don't need god to protect me. If he has guts he should just stab me. >> Every time I get a message or a phone call my heart just clenches. If only I could just smash my phone every time it vibrates! But at the same time I would also think that I shouldn't do that because you might flash up on my screen. I feel that I like you as much as anyone I could think of. But how come they all seem to have so much more to say to you? It bothers me.

just finished the movie macario and feel like talking so badly I guess I shouldn't have watched it at midnight alone cause the heavy, brooding silence descended on me the whole time. And I was kept on tenterhooks all the time. When I finished the movie, I found myself breaking into a cold sweat. Well I might be too young and shallow to think deeply about the philosophy of life and death but still I'm dying to talk with someone about that at this moment...