My... Forget it.

If I feel one thing now, it's confusion. Everything's spinning so quickly I can barely catch up.

And Liverpool winning the Champions League this morning is doing nothing to help my disorientation.

I keep thinking about many things. My computer, for a start. The condition it is in is horrible. And my network is still screwed. The course that I'm in requires some really advanced hardware. I'm so damn confused right now.

And then I think about my personality. My character. I don't even know what my talent is. Is it singing? Is it being angry? Is it being lazy? What is my specialty? Sometimes I really wonder...

Spending three days at Poly a week ago changed everything. All of a sudden I'm hit with the kinds of people I'm not familiar with. Everyone came with a good result (as in anywhere from 8 to 13), and I'm made to remember that I have 14, a point below the cut-off point they announced, the mystery as of why I got in? I've yet to solve it.

Then I remember this was exactly the same thing in Primary 4, with the cursed GEP programme. Putting myself among the elites, and then having reality slap me in the face and telling me that that is not where I belong. These people know much more about what we're dealing with than I ever did. I can't even say much about the specs of my computer. It's not that good. I'm not that good. The amount of games I've played is enough to be a joke in the house. Years of online life is nothing compared to some of theirs.

I think about it again and it bites. And it never lets go.

And then sometimes I think about girls. Actually, not sometimes. All the time. I don't know if it's hormones or some strange, desperate, lustful desire that creeps within me (I hope it's the former) but I just can't stop thinking. I guard my handphone like my life, holding on to it all the time, as if hoping somebody would message me.

Just to talk. Ask how I was doing. Ask me about something. Remind me about something. Something funny. Something meaningful.

No, nothing. Sometimes I get messages from Jo and then I can't help but think, "maybe because he pities me for getting nothing everyday while he has people to talk to all the time". He probably doesn't think that way, but...

Yes, I've realised that I've gone into a new stage of self-pity. Please let me be.

I must deal with the pain alone.

And then I remember no one will read this. Hah... The irony.