Diverge

Playlist



Bel-Air by Malice Mizer



Goodness. The office is virtually freezing today. I took a look at the thermostat. It was 21.5 degree Celsius. In tropical Singapore. No wonder. I generally like the cold, but in this place where the air is stale... And the carpet smells like... Well, carpet. Believe me, its quite awful. Claustrophobic? Not so much as a morgue. Yeah. I'm thinking too much. I'm speculating. I'm being nonsensical. Guess its because of the music. Been listening to Malice Mizer for way too long. After all, when you have N.p.s. N.g.s. set as your message tone and at repeat... You go lulu after a while. I have no idea what the acronyms mean. I don't want to guess either. You can go listen to it and imagine what the whole bunch of them are trying to convey. I'll just self-hypnotise. In other words, I'm going to ignore it all.





I feel so terribly insulted. Or should I not? Ok, I'm not exactly HURT or anything. Its just that I feel I OUGHT to feel hurt. Whatever. Anyhow, one of my colleagues just mentioned that I have a supremely mugger look. He, yes, a he. Age 35. Single. Likes Indian food. Those who know me will know the rest of the details. What he said was that my spectacles and hair puts me in a 'MUGGER' category. Furthermore, I'm not tan enough. Now I know why the whole bunch of SRF people think I look very different when I'm cosplaying and when I'm in normal clothes. Honestly, I think there's not much of a difference. After all, I've seen myself in all circumstances. In full dance gear with the one-inch make-up, Lolita make-up, be it sweet or Goth... When I have just woken up... When I'm all spotty... Still me inside. At the end of it all, I'm still... Me. No matter how unglamorous I may look. Yes, you can say I'm an arrogant prig who is full of self-love. I don't care. After all, who, on this blue earth, is going to love me the way I love myself? No one.

Going to Kovan to register for Japanese lesson later...

"Yes... Yes... Thank you... Have a nice day!"