Going to the city is good. Meeting frens, going TGIF, watch Am wolf down EVERYTHING including the plate, and taking pictures with women as men like me are supposed to be doing. Life is good. Well, city life that is. Things in Burwood (new place) are settling better. More furniture been moving in. Installed the fridge and fixed up a dining table and 6 chairs today. I swear, IKEA are bastards, with their DIY policy. Though the fixing is easy enough. Just can't be bloody bothered.

Realised something as well. We've been making jokes the tsunami. IS it really so easy to become desentisized to events? Sigh.

Got BONE. Am happy now.

Firstly.. to the sister, who may or may not read this.

NYAH NYAH

no nora for u little girl

on another subject... i dun like rugs. And toyota corollas. STATIC SUX!!!!

Busy day today... chock full of electronic devices, beds and coffee tables. Not to mention carpets... fun-smelling, musty CARPETS. Wheee. And I'm writing again. Hopefully an interesting tale about a person's soul. Let's see shall we?

It's a new year people, and I'm not relishing it. For starters, I don't know what to do. I am under all this pressure to do things... when I do not want to. If I wanna say it, I'm not happy. My Dad's obviously not happy with the way I've turned out. And he lets it be known. To all. Crudely. Yet, I don't complain. I don't know if it's fear, tact, or just plain "I don't give a damn". Fact is, I do not complain on how I'm being treated... and still, he sees it as if it's something wrong. I don't know what he wants. I'm not doing drugs, smoking, speeding down the freeway. I'm not bringing home pregnant women, or getting arrested. If I don't drink, he frowns and shakes his head. Doesn't he understand... I'm not like him.

He calls me useless cause I'm hopeless with directions. Cause I don't know math or physics. Cause I'm cannot balance coins with ease. I don't know anything. I just want to shout out: Does he know what Asimov wrote in Foundation, the dreams of the people involved? Does he know what is the hypodermic syringe syndrome, or the Warsaw pact, or how rice can be traced to gay traits in Singapore? I know my books, I know my movies, my animations, my songs. I attend plays, concerts and I DON'T WALK OUT OF THEM. Sure, I'm impractical but that's me. The firstborn. The FAILURE. Perhaps I'm overreacting... but I wanna shout one day. Shout and sing and destress.

I seriously think I need time off. Disappear for a while as I work things out. Can't though. Too many things to do. House and stuff. Woohoo and whoopdeedo. You know what's the worse part? I dunno who to talk to. I really am at a loss.