I didn't forget.

Tralalalala

I am not suicidal. I do not own a gun and I live 21 steps above the ground. Plunging off my window would only cause me to lose a tooth. Suicidal, I am not.

Maybe, I’m just bitter.

Bang!

I am not shot yet. Despite the many attempts at pulling the trigger with my toes. My ammunitions, I figure, are best reserve for more deserving moments. Like towards the blasted driver who probably saw the Earth split open and had to slam on his brakes faster then I could curse and slam on mine. It takes all kinds of people to make a world, they say. At the expense of a broken headlight, that’s one expensive advice worth keeping.

On another note, I got reacquainted with my books. In the package come exams, messy hair, assignments and a san sleep me attempting to write the paper on Business Consumers right after completing my night shift. (Yes I’m still keeping my job. On top of my Uni fees, I still need shoes to live.)

Till I find the equilibrium in my dire state, there are only promises and rain checks for those who matters.