Don’t wait til its too late to cherish a loved one. I’m not one to express my emotions freely, and it sucks because everything you want to say can’t be said out. It’s alright I guess, because actions do speak louder than words.

Sometimes if you wait too long, you might just end up regretting your decision.

Where’s God now?

“… and every once in a while, a song pops up that you wish you’d wrote.”

And in my case, every once in a while, you listen to a really groovy lick that a certain drummer uses at certain parts of a song, and I just wondered if I’d have thought about it, if I were in his shoes.

Self-doubt is never good for a musician.

Self-doubt is never good for anybody.

But I guess self-doubt magically appears out of no where on nights when you’re emo and (again) thinking about stuff in the past. Nobody’s perfect, and nobody spends his/her life without thinking about things that happened in the past, decisions made, and regretting them.

I could attempt to smoke it off. But knowing myself, smoking alone will probably make me think more.

My life’s really funny at times. At times in my life when a new chapter’s about to unfurl, bad mojo appears and bad things follow. My grandfather passed away before I enlisted. My uncle passed away just as I got into OCS. And now? My grandmother’s in SGH, in critical condition, just before I start university.

Looking at her lying on the hospital bed, I don’t even know what to say. I couldn’t even stay in the room for more than a few minutes before choking up on my emotions. It was as though the emotions in the room itself manifested themselves within me, and though I left the hospital barely 30 mins later for band practice, the feeling lingered. Sadness, feelings of self-doubt, hopelessness, and finally acceptance, swirled in a little eddie within me, stirring up emotions, feelings, thoughts and dreams – both fulfilled and broken.

It’s been almost a week, and still the feeling’s lingering within me.

And people ask me why I hate hospitals.

Hey God, I’m not your model Christian, I’m probably not even considered a Christian in Your eyes, but hey, my grandmother accepted you into her life. My uncles, aunties, mom and brother placed their lives in Your hands. So take it as a plea from me and count it in my debt to You, make her better if possible, or make her not suffer anymore. For her, and for my uncles, aunties and my mom. Me, suffer, why not, I’m not exactly in a position to ask for anything beneficial to myself now am I?

FUCK

Sometimes there’s no need to blog too much to express how you feel. This is one the of the times.

FUCK THIS SHIT

… that’s me in the corner, losing my religion