Haven't updated this journal in a while...I guess I shouldn't anymore, but what the hey.

Maybe the world has gone mad and I'm the only sane person left. In which case, being sane isn't all that fun anymore.

I miss the life of a bum. You know, when you work and get paid for work but in the end you still run out of money and you end up being the way you were when you were a bum...sometimes i think, gees, what's the difference?

Why am I always so worked up about financial issues?

It's not fair not being able to enjoy your hard-earned cash. Still, it's better than nothing. I think.

My unloved year is drawing to a close. I wonder if I was really unloved. But I have no illusions of being loved or better loved in my 24th year.

Love is a lie people swallow to cover up their sad, sordid existences.

Bitter, bitter, bitter, hahahahah ^_^

I really don't have a point in this post, I'm just killing time before I actually go home. And when I finally decide to go home, I'll remember that I was supposed to work on something, and I'll end up doing overtime. I swear, I'm not doing a very good job here. Or is it just paranoia again? I never could assess myself objectively. And I don't believe my superiors when they give me feedback or advice.

I wish I could be a hermit. In New Zealand.

My aunt asked me some days ago, "What happened to your plans of going to New Zealand?"

And I mumbled something about saving up for it first.

And I haven't saved anything.

Two years. Two years.

I'm posting gibberish already.