It’s been a weird month, in which I’ve at aboslutely nothing to write about because I’ve had nothing to whine about. It’s strange that way, how I keep to myself when things are going well. And when things aren’t, I probably lie to make it seem like they are.
Maybe it’s because I’ve realised that like the rest of the world, a single blogger’s opinion doesn’t really matter. Even if you put nude pictures of yourself online or make several inflammatory statements, it doesn’t matter, people still laugh it off and move on with their lives, since you’re after all, just another pixel in the computer screen of the world, a Singapore in the world, another brick in the wall or some other cliche or bad Pink Floyd song. The government is going to continue making stupid decisions and losing money for us, people who go to cityharvest are still going to worship their god and feel trendy and cool at the same time because they feel like they are doing it in a big group. People are still going to smoke and drink and gamble and infect themselves terminally despite all the warnings not to, and even those who don’t still end up with some sort of cancer anyway.
Maybe it’s because I don’t think it matters how much I complain anymore. Some people say that you make your own luck, but I’m pretty much almost sure that’s not entirely true. It’s annoying how you can plan everything down to the tiniest detail and still fall by the wayside due to a completely innocent slip of the tongue(or just a normal slip), or someone else carrying multiple rabbit’s feet and worshipping fervently, or simply just having more luck than me. It’s kind of how Chelsea played better than Barcelona but still got their asses kicked by someone else’s bad decision making, and even Barca knew it.
Maybe I should stop trying.
