god's intervention and my outcry

sometimes, i wonder if my faith is supposed to be of any use, cos it sure as hell doesn't... if only i had taken script writing this semester, i would have had a darn good story to write... haha... it has loads of twist and turns... so, i guess i'm meeting the 'dream' girl tomz... in both sense to what ma fwens know... to both parties, u each will understand a different level, except for the fact for one special person who will understand both my dilemma... haiz...

anyways, tat aside... i am now wondering if people really do change and if they change for the right reason.. when i say right, i mean for themselves... i mean, what's the point of changing if it only makes you unhappy?

and i wonder if i should keep a bowl of water so that maybe, if i do find a colourful goldfish, which has all the colours in it, i could just place it in there and let it swin in there, protected, and yet never able to explore the world.  and i guess, i finally find a link of why she calls me a joker... at a certain level, i guess i dun fit in. i dun fit in my family, my friends, my school, my course, my country, my love and my religion.  maybe i'm just waiting for that someone to actually collect all the jokers around and place them together and maybe create a joker utopia.  i need to fit in, but i can't... i jus can't...

 yet, i've grown so used to being on my own, that all i need is someone to pamper me... i mean, really... the most strongest person who has faced life front first IS the one who needs the most care... yes, they may seem strong, but we're all raelly weak... just whether we choose to show our weakness or not... and i guess, i finally realise tat i've been for my friends... all they needed was to call me and they can bea ssured that i'll be there... but, usually, well, now i guess i can't seem to find a crying post at all... no one to reset my self worth level... and i wonder why i'm writing all these with tears welling up..

i guess tis would be my outcry...
 
call me a girl, call me emo, call me what ever... i took it in with a smile... cos maybe that's what i am... but if what i am is a source of joke and ridicule(though how ever unintended it is, it will, like a drop of water dripping on a stone, erode the stony protective cover that i've created)... i mean, how the hell do you think william hung feels? being laughed at? if the reports tat he's overdosed himself is true, then well, how do i avoid overdose? well, i make fun of ppl to make me feel better... even if itz a pathetic method of self-assurance, well, i'm still alive... and that itself brings another day of hope... and all i wonder is that whether i will be remembered at all? this passage from Jostein Gaardner's Solitaire Mystery sent shockwaves to myself, cos one part of the passage is like the one big question that i have always asked myself...

"A joker is a little fool who is different from everone else.  He's not a club, diamond, heart or spade... He is an outsider.  He is placed in the same pack as the other cards, but he doesn't belong there.  Therefore, he can be removed without anybody missing him."
 
The only question i kept wondering is if anybody is going to visit me if i was hospitalised adn everytime i visit the hospital, i get depressed.  And if i die now, would i be missed or if anyone would ever bother to see what happens if i don't pick up my phone anymore...