Well, this is awkward

So I really want to talk to you, right, but I never see you on anything apart from facebook. So then I log on to facebook and I keep the tab open for--- for as long as I use the computer.

I check compulsively every 10min, to see if that green dot appears next to your name in chat.

10min elapse: nup

20min later: nup

30min pass: chic who I'd much rather avoid starts spilling her life story to me, telling me about how stressed she is and how the guy she likes doesn't like her back blah blah blah. So I type the words "I'm sorry to hear that" in various forms until she finally hits me with "gtg haha"

1hr mark: nup

1hr 40min: guy who I'd rather not talk to: "yo wassup bro how is your day" etc. etc. And I'm like FUUUUUU the person I want to talk to doesn't talk to me and every other random on facebook decides to initiate a conversation. Then I reply at 2min intervals but still he persists until I give up replying altogether. 

3hr 20min: AND YOU'RE FINALLY ONLINE. I stare at that green dot next to your name for roughly 15 seconds just to confirm that I'm not hallucinating. Shit, you're online. 

Click on your name, start typing in the chat box... wait a sec, wtf do I say?

"hi how was your day"

...HMM, this sounds familiar. Oh, that guy from before who I found annoying--- that's exactly what he said to me to start the conversation. Fuck. Backspace backspace.

"hi, how was school?" Nah, that won't do, THERE IS MORE TO TALK ABOUT BETWEEN US THAN SCHOOL. I hardly know anything about what you do at school anyway, and it wouldn't make sense. More backspace.

"have you heard [band name]?" yeah okay that'll do. 

And juuuuust as I was about to hit enter, I stop myself again. I talked to you like, yesterday. And the day before. Aaaand the day before that. I've initiated the conversation every time.

NO, I WILL NOT APPEAR CLINGY OR NEEDY OR DESPERATE. Even though I am. But I will not appear like that.

Backspace again.

Wait for you to start conversation. You'd want to talk to me as well, right?

And 2min later I've run out of patience. Fuck fuck fuck, why aren't you talking to me. I'd like to think that you're going through the same thought process, and waiting for me to talk to you. Except you're not that kind of person. Goddamn.

Okay, I give up, that's it. "have you hea---"

AND YOU LOGGED OFF. YOU BITCH. WHY. FUCKING WHY.

Then I sit here clawing my hair out, lamenting my lost opportunity and reprimanding myself for my cowardice. 

Miraculously you log on again. So you'd think after what happened just then I'd learn and just hit you with "hi how are you what's your favorite color do you like spaghetti" but no, I'm fucking retarded. I sit here twiddling my thumb, repeating hypnotically, "I am not clingy needy or desperate I am not clingyneedyordesperate iamnotclingyneedyordespererate desperatedesperatedesperatedesperate..."

And you log off again. Yeah, I guess I deserved that. 

Devious Ploys

On the way home this afternoon I was casually planning an end-of-year beach trip with a friend of mine, because we both agreed it would be rather exciting to go down to the beach with a bunch of our friends instead of parents. I had so much fun at maths camp I guess I look forward to an extended version. Invite my maths teacher as well- make it maths camp ver. II. Except maybe skip out on the maths this time...

So we were counting off the no. of people we could take, and how many of our friends would like to come. Then the name of the person I may-or-may-not have a crush on came up inevitably, and I thought to myself, hey, wouldn't this be the best opportunity. Not that it's likely this whole beach-trip thing would happen, but if it were to happen and they could come along, man I'd create soooo many opportunities for myself.

My friend, being the great wing-man (or rather, wing-woman?) she is, came up with great plans.
1. Have the entire group go out for a walk at sunset or something, and make everyone else walk super-fast and leave me alone with a certain someone *cough*. Naturally that certain someone will try to catch up to the rest of the group, and since they are undoubtedly my athletic superior in every aspect, I'm kinda screwed. It was at this point that my friend inserted her suggestion: "this is where you trip over while ***** tries to catch up, then you call out and ***** will be forced to stay behind." Aw man, I should've thought of that one: it's like the no.1 cliched scene from all those crappy Asian dramas I wasted my life watching.

Crap, I just admitted to watching Asian dramas. That makes me kind of a pansy, doesn't it? Maybe you should erase that from your minds.

But seriously.

TURN BACK BIATCH AND CATCH ME BEFORE I FALL

I'm going to trip, right, and when ***** turns back for me, I'm gonna be all like "OW I FELL AND I'VE GOT INTERNAL HEMORRHAGING YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO CARRY ME ON YOUR BACK FOR THE REST OF THE WAY" Now the plan may fail due to my ever-increasing weight, but eh, worth a shot. Or I can say something like, "IT'S BEEN SCIENTIFICALLY PROVEN THAT HOLDING HANDS WILL CURE ANY AILMENT I HAVE FROM TRIPPING OVER NOTHING."

So, continuing on:
2. Move all the luggage belonging to that "someone" next to my bed, so they take the bed adjacent to mine. Somehow shift seats so that we are seated together at every occasion. Sure it'd get sus eventually, but it'd at least take a while for anyone to notice. I can be subtle, I swear~

As for 3... well, I don't have a 3... YET. I'll get there, if this beach trip comes to actualization.

Killing Spiders

Now I finally understand why killing is sinful. There is a strange pleasure derived from killing; the pleasure of mastery over another being's life. I guess that's a bullshitty way of saying "I got kicks from spraying spiders which live in my window." Using the bottle of insect killer my roommate got me yesterday, I ventured out in the afternoon and sprayed the shit out of my window. I reckon I used at least half a bottle. I stared in awe as a wave of spiders rushed out from the cracks of my window... I was not aware that there had been so many...

...Then I backed away in confusion... I thought the insect spray was meant to kill all the spiders, not have them all rush out from the crevices of my window. It took several seconds, before I noticed how the spiders withered before me, shrinking as they wrapped their legs around their bodies... A few of those spiders looked rather fat. I wonder whether it was about to spawn more spiders before I killed it.

Mum, seeing that I had been spraying my window, commented on how it was entirely my fault that the spiders decided to nest there. After all, if I weren't such a lazy fucker and cleaned my window regularly, it wouldn't be spider infested. I wonder, has she ever thought about HOW I WAS GOING TO CLEAN BETWEEN MY WINDOW. I couldn't remove the netted layer, so the only way was to open the glass layer from inside. Then what, watch the spawn of spiders scuttle into my room? Mum's response to that was "so what? Just kill them all." I don't know why she doesn't understand that I'm scared of spiders. She's terrified of snakes--- enough for it to be a phobia, I'm sure. I remember the time I had a rubber snake in my pocket, and she pulled it out and screamed like there was no tomorrow. For the rest of that day I had to listen to words along the lines of "how could you do this to your poor mother" etc. etc. I'd like to see her reaction, if snakes decided to live under her bed or something. Maybe then I can comment on her laziness, for not cleaning out the snakes under her bed so they spawned more.

Despite the 7 visible dead spiders stuck on various places on my window, I'm still not convinced that they're all dead. After all, I thought there might've been 3, except there was more than double that. I might wait a few days, then spray again. Though the spiders are dead, their bodies are still trapped in between my window... and it's quite disgusting. I should probably clean that out.

I really do hate spiders.

Illness

So yesterday I was coughing up my soul and sniffling every 20 seconds. It was as if there was a small flame down the bottom of my throat--- the pain was not great, but it was always present, and it scorched me every waking minute. Every time I drank water it was like drinking gasoline--- the small flame turned into a sky-high bonfire and I felt myself being engulfed.

Dad was still away on his business trip, but Mum was home. Let's just say that she was not very sympathetic. "IT'S BECAUSE YOU WENT TO BADMINTON LAST NIGHT SEE HOW MUCH WORSE YOU'VE GOTTEN" When she came home I told her I was skipping dinner so I could rest a bit, and she replied with "EAT YOUR DINNER WHY WOULD YOU SKIP YOUR DINNER STOP ACTING LIKE YOUR BROTHER AND EAT PROPERLY"

...What I don't understand is why she gets so worked up over one lousy meal. I wasn't going to die from it.

Of course I ignored her and went to bed anyway, because fuck it. I was sick, tired and all I can hear is the drumming inside my head. I had fallen into deep sleep, but when dinner came, SHE WOKE ME AND DRAGGED ME OUT TO DINNER. ...I had never been more resentful towards anyone who wanted to feed me. As I ate I thought bitterly: I hope you all get infected, then you can feel my pain. I think it would have been obvious enough that I was pissed, and as I sat there, half awake, eating dinner, Mum decides to take the word "oblivious" to a new level, and asks me how dinner tasted. Then she brags about how she added cream to the eggs, and how it tasted so much better. I replied that I couldn't taste a single fucking thing, because my throat burned, my nose was blocked and eating was torture. She glared at me, and I knew I must have been wearing that "disrespectful and ungrateful" expression of mine again.

After dinner, she asks me whether I've been taking my medicine. It turns out that there was still a bottle of pills left in the house that Dad didn't take with him. I SUSPECT IT'S BECAUSE IT'S EXPIRED. So I tell Mum, and she gives me this look of shock: "REALLY? IT'S EXPIRED? NO WAY."
"Yeah, its expiry date was in July, and it is now August."
"OH ONLY ONE MONTH, THAT'S NOTHING."

...And I knew she expected me to take some before I went back to bed... but I walked off. Luckily for me my roommate was there to save me and provided me with his cold medicine. "Don't worry," he said, "these are definitely not expired." ...From that I knew he was laughing at Mum's ignorance... but eh, as if my family hadn't embarrassed themselves in front of him enough times already.

So I take the medicine, sleep for like 15 hours... and I feel much better already. At least someone in this house cares for my illness beyond complaining how I had exacerbated it by playing badminton, and trying to cure me with expired medicine. My throat still burns, but it's milder, and at the very least my headache is gone. Well, it's a sunny day outside, and that can only signify a better day.

...Except Dad is back. *sigh*

Why I should just fucking marry my roommate

So recently I've come to realize that I may find someone attractive enough to ask them out--- but just then I had another realization: I should just marry my roommate instead. I know this seems kind of strange, and he's far from perfect, but holy fucking shit he makes up for every single flaw of mine.

1. He cooks. Yeah, he made fried rice for lunch today, which I took to school. It tasted delicious. He fucking cooks, and it tastes good.
2. He cleans. His room is like as tidy as a... tidy room, I guess. Unlike mine, it doesn't have loose sheets of paper flying across of floor, the table isn't covered in 3cm of dust... and his clothes are folded neatly inside his wardrobe. As for my clothes... well they're spread across the bed and I have no idea whether they're dirty of clean. I just throw everything into the wash at the end of the week, to be on the safe side.
3. He helps me with maths. Not that I'm horrible at maths, but I certainly lack the motivation to do as well as I'd like to. He works ahead, writes up a thick book of solutions and hands them to me. I doubt I can find another roommate who is willing to do that for me... or rather, has the ability to do so for me.
4. And and and get this, this is the MOST PERFECT ASPECT ABOUT HIS CHARACTER, IT OUTWEIGHS EVERY SINGLE FUCKING OTHER THING ON THIS LIST: he bought me a bottle of insect killer. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. After hearing that I've been plagued by the spiders nesting at my window (I only told him today), he went out, just then, braving the cold and rain, to buy me a bottle of insect killer. Guys, this is the most fucking touching moment of my entire life.

I may or may not be over-romanticizing a little here. Then he mentioned how he was going to get me another lid for the light in my room, because I told him once upon a time how I hated white light, and wanted a yellow glow. He got a chair, climbed up to the lights, but sadly couldn't find a way to safely remove the lid, else I probably would have a yellow light by now. Fair enough that he didn't want to risk infuriating my parents by breaking the lights.

So yes, it appears that all that anyone needs to gain my fancy is to... buy me a bottle of insect killer.

P.S. He just came into my room with a cup of hot milk tea. I should start planning our wedding.