Really. I had a Lovely holiday.

But seeing, or rather, reflecting, reviewing, and looking back at my 2010 life, it just leaves me feeling like a hollow coffin. One with a mummy in it. A mummy who is on the verge of possible mistakes and emotional breakdowns.

How many times have I cried this year...hmph..seems like its been more than 10 times at least. Why did I do such a thing? Has it got to do with the stress of the current lifestyle that many have advocated as ideal? Do they even know the excruciating pain that I have to endure? the numerous typhoons that...that...that...engulfed me?

Writing this note has seemingly help/aggravated the raw scalds, wounds, wounds arising from personal hurt and environmental influences. the thought of having to observe people and their body language, whether would it be awkward to share a table with them, or that would I just offend them unknowingly?

Is it because of my continual want to perfect what i have in life? Is it because I'm too sensitive? Or is it that I should belong to a mental asylum, having a doc to help check if i have a bipolar personality? Hmph...that seems fun...

Do I even know the current KR, or is it that I'm stuck in the past, like that of an object coated with permafrost ice all year round, obscuring its view of the current, its view of reality?