pretty flower ugly roots

It is 4.33am in the morning and i am feeling drowsy. Some would say i am under the influence of too much CnH2n+1-OH. I am typing on my keyboard furiously as i backspace and edit all the unintentional mistakes i am making due to my jaded state. I feel weary and tired, but i also feel a strange outburst of energy.

I am not complete.

I am not contented with my life and where it is going.

4.37am

It is 3 minutes past my first words formulated on this blank white space known as "edit HTML"

I still do not know or comprehend where this writing will lead me.

My dearest malaysian boy has stayed up till 437 to await my skype call. This assuages me. I love him more than anything else (apart from my parents hahahahahah okay maybe i love them equally)

4.40am

I am thinking of the world

The world. Unscrupulous. Demanding. A vicious cycle. An endless repitition. There is no give and take here. There is only take, and take further. Take what you can and leave nothing behind. The world is cruel.

4.41am

I am starting to sober up. I still feel the tingling sensation surging through my veins. Whatever. I know what I am doing.

I had a nice chat with 2 taxi drivers earlier. One was from comfort. Another city cab.
I asked the driver, "How is business now that they raised the prices"
He merely replied, with little emotion in his cracked voice "not good"

My heart was filled with compassion for him. I expressed contempt at the decision of the "higher-up's". What right did they have to suddenly increase prices? If it was for the good of the people then so be it. But the people that are suffering are not them, not the people that callously implement stupid reforms for their own benefits. The people that are suffering are the labourers that pave the foundation for our own country!

People are filled with such greed.

But who am I to talk? I am but a mere girl. With such ambitions that I will only dream of achieving.

4.49 am

This post ends here

My skype is just filled with the sounds of furious typing

What if the hearts of men remained pure? What if the curiousity of Pandora did not implore her to open that box? What if the pleas of the desperate and helpless were heard? What if...?

4.51am

My mind is constantly full of questions that can never be answered, and full of short outbursts of light that will never meet the infinite and lurid darkness of the world.

4.55am

I am completely sober now and I am contemplating whether to publish this post or not. I guess it is the former.