In seven months, I am going to be 27. 30 looms ahead. 30 isn't good. I am getting old. i don't want to hit the 30. I want to be back in my teens, acne and all. I want to be a child, an infant. I want to be back in the womb again. Why? Because I want a new start. Because I want a chance to be someone I am not. Because maybe just maybe, I won't screw up my life this time? I am getting old and I have nothing much to show for it. Two pieces of paper and an unhappy past. I would take no paper and a happy past but I don't have that.

L and I had a msn conversation about stupid fucks and how she hated stupid fucks. Of course I did point out that she was the one who wanted to meet the stupid fucks but instead of calling her a stupid fuck for meeting more stupid fucks, I have decided to call her a forgetful fuck. Anyway, she was describing the endless reasons why she loathed the stupid fucks and I listened, made snide remarks every now and then. For a while, the conversation made no impact on me but when I started thinking about my age and the impending 30, I realised that I rather be a stupid fuck, than to be an unhappy fuck.

I am an unhappy fuck.