just minishorts.

No-lah. Of course I remember. You think I've got an empty husk for a brain, a stone for a heart meh?

I mean, of course we all know that blogs of note (esp. personal blogs) are usually 'of note' because of the immensely emotional tremors that accompany the writings, and that personal blogs also make up a good majority of all public personal journals… .

That said, I was surfing the my dailies when I came across this. I'm thinking, right. Excellente. I know because of a certain period in my life when I was obsessing over unrequited feelings.

I've met up with people since, met new friends, rekindled older (and certainly valuable) friendships which I had left behind for years, and catched up with life a little, rebuilt a whole new perspective (with a good load of the old, old outlook and perspectives on life) and unwittingly, dropped off a good percentage of what used to be decidedly close to my heart.

Just days ago I was going through some old high school photographs with SL and these lopsided heads of friends in the turquoise and white (as well as dark khakis) uniforms were grinning back at me, many of them doning oval metal-rimmed glasses (those were in fashion during my time yeah).

I've lost many of them, you know. In the midst of that unreasonable struggle to reacquire 'what is rightfully MINE'. These good friends, those who were sitting next to, in front of, behind of me, they who I shared jolly tasteless satay skewers during a relief class, some of them whom I spent many hours sitting behind a library counter, stiffling laughter as we point at library patrons who look like shit but behave like they're God or something and start to argue with us librarians over date dues and library fines.

Or that great chum of mine who was a great chum until the GREAT divide because of the boyfriend issue decided to drag the two of us apart.

Up till this day I do not believe that a friendship should be in shambles because one has to side the person (s)he loves. If you do not govern your own moves, if you do not choose the friends that you make, then who would do it for you?

No one owns that right except yourself. And don't ever listen to that idiot who tells us that you have no right to choose who you befriend because your behaviour decides on the type of friends who chooses you. Everyone else knows that there's no 'Jalan Sehala' on this type of thing.

If you're out there reading this, drop me an e-mail. The old one. Or ask anyone personally. They'll tell you what I'm doing, sure, but nothing beats asking the old girl herself.

Yeah I'm on a freaking rampage these days. Today is without exception another day of utter disgust at idiots.

I have no idea what's got into me these days, maybe it's the weather–the wind must either be blowing the wrong way, I seem to have the wrong sort of people landing up in my territory these days. Worse thing is, they're all people in authority.

I'm talking about blardy freaking nutcases with extra letters at the end of their names who think that not saying anything means that you're stupid. This is where the PhD thing really means 'Permanent Head Damage'. These are utterly idiotic people who listen to you, say stupid phrases of praise that otherwise don't mean anything, nor do anything for your precious morale, end with an smart sounding 'but…' (where you expect some ingenious idea's going to surface after you painstaking go through a 'mock presentation' in preparation for a sales product briefing), and finally saying something so crappy, you start to wonder whether you're in a meeting room or a female restroom gossiping about straying husbands.

One more thing, I hate it when meetings overshoot 2 hours and the next day, someone comes back to me and asks me where did my manuscripts go. Don't you know that even a computer needs time to process information?

Excuse me while I go and restructure my breifs and wonder whether my designation here is as a subject specialist, a syllabus specialist, an exam format specialist, an editor, a sales representative, a market researcher, or (worse), a specialist work planner.