Work has made me into a dull "Hi do you need a basket?" machine. I recently cried because every little moment, every miniscule minute I squeeze out of my lengthy, yet empty days pass by the nanoseconds. I feel myself slipping out of my fingers; a soggy mass of pining for the days when education blew my ego and made me feel like I was somebody, anybody. When friends stood by you when you had real problems. Now I dont even have real problems, I dont want to lose my real friends. Im thankful I know what I dont want in life-- I dont want a job that makes me happy on every 8th and 18th because that's payday. I dont want to joke, banter and laugh my life away into nothingness. I don't want to spend 10 and a half hours and a happy, energetic self on people who don't give a shit, and 2 lousy hours ignoring people who'd die for me.
I want to carve bits and pieces of my life into my art, so when I look back at 54 years of age with wrinkly, flaky skin, yellow teeth and dementia or alzheimer's I can ask Jingboy (who'd be Jingahpek by then) "Do you remember these two jokers?" he'll laugh at my ailing memory and say "Im quite sure they're Deb and Evan, but they very well could be Jiayi and Kailing, or two of the three musketeers, or heck even my favourite Tp and Kaixiang-- Darling you know how bad my memory is."
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