Today was such a fiendishly hot day that I suddenly I remembered I was slapbang in the heart of Southeast Asia. my goodness. it was so intolerably warm.

Spent the early afternoon trying to find the Rough Guides' Southeast Asia bk at BORDERS to no avail, before meeting Kerry for her final shakeup for Lit Paper 4.

I need more students - if you need help in history, literature, KI or GP, I'M YOUR MAN. call me!

There were quite a few things buzzing around my head but I'm having a splitting headache now. I shall attempt to recall...

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I was out with them for dinner last night. I felt myself drifting into the background almost as soon as they arrived. It was kinda scary cuz it only usually happens when there's the whole lot of us and they keep talking amongst themselves about people and things of which I have obviously no inkling and no part of. But it happens and they do it. I decided to drift into this semi-state of consciousness and just ignored what was going on. I think it's horrible how that has to happen when one is supposedly among friends, but I was never close to them in any case. I'm not crazy or cool enough for them, though strangely enough some people think that I am absolutely crazy. It takes 2 hands to clap and I don't think it's right to say that one hand sld go looking for a hand when the hands around it mind their own business. Many just give up and I don't think I blame them for that.

It was a timely reminder though. I hate it. I hate the fact that I seem to be more excited about seeing them than they me, or that my existence is the equivalent of an ornament to 'hang around', without any sincere desire at engagement or conversation. It's stupid. Really stupid. People don't invite themselves to things they weren't originally invited to. I'm sorry but that's not how friendships work.

Maybe it's because life goes on for them and they have moved on, but it doesnt explain why that has been the case since forever. time immemorial. i think im more than just the guy who provides the occasional words of wisdom and advice where one desires it. (I.E. I'M NOT YOUR BOOTY CALL).

I find that as time goes by I close myself off to people more and more as I realise the futility of opening up to them. Friendships don't work that way. It's not a trade-off, that just because you tell them things that they will as well, or that they see you taking this relationship seriously.

And yes, friends are more than just 'having fun together'.

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I think I am now just waiting for the next big RESET button coming my way in 2010.

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This guy came up to me yesterday at City Hall. He was an ex-convict selling pens at exhorbitant pricies. I was appalled at his desperation to sell something. Dignity? Nyet. I don't know why it made such an impact on me but I was thoroughly disturbed by it - it seemed, to put it very bluntly, like he was grovelling and almost begging in a very pathetic way. is society really that impossible for a man? who's the real culprit in the blame game? the crime? prejudice? the fact that he had pre-marital sex and has to raise a child with an equally adolescent wife? Why am I even bothered at this lack of dignity? Who's doing a thing about it?

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I find that I feel for a lot of people. Some have told me I feel too much. Some might say that I am foolish in loving and trusting people that much. I find that it makes me human and it is part and parcel of who I am as a person. I don't think people need to identify with that, but they should at least respect it. You don't have to agree, but you don't have to trample on it either.

I thought that all my past experiences would have hardened me up to the point where I would become an unfeeling scrooge hating the entire world and blaming everyone else like an utter loser. Or perhaps just a cynical prick like many of my fellow countrymen. I don't find it to be the case.

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By blogging what I say, I lose all objectivity. I fail to become a neutral observer on things. That has always been a myth though. No one is entirely objective, but I must at least stress that I have my own perculiar way of seeing the world, and of defining myself and who I am. Perchance there might come a day when understanding takes the place of mere criticism (without suggestions or remedies).