Somehow, I get really tired and sleepy at some point in time, but when I reach home, the desire to just hit the bed leaves me. Because I have so many thoughts running through my head, and I need to get them out first. Not blogging/writing in my other diary has left me rather in a daze.

There is a place, where everything is beautifully blurred, and there are round street lamps with their soft orange glow, and everything is perfection itself. It is perfectly quiet, and you know you could walk on forever beneath the dim glow of those orange lights, with nothing to disturb you. Semi-conscious, but aware of every thought, every emotion running through you. In that semi-conscious state, the beauty is magnified, and it feels like a heavy, embracing weight pressing down on you, but it is not suffocating at all, rather, it is comforting. Away from all that noise. Just perfect silence on a perfect, beautifully blurred night.

If there is one type of people whom I absolutely cannot stand, it would be those who think they're better than others. Those who think they're different, and despise people who aren't aloof or apart from the crowd like they are. Those who revel in being different, in regarding people from their lofty pedestals that they have placed themselves. Those who say they don't like to conform to societal expectations and norms, and regard those who mix in large social circles or just "ordinary" people as beneath them, as weak in character and mind. Lately, these people seem to be getting on my nerves. Strange, I never thought that way of them before. You laugh at "conformists", you look down on them and think everything about you is better than them, from the way you think to the way you dress. Good grief. You can't see that everyone is different, no. It's just you, and the collective rest of us. I absolutely have no respect for you, thinking you're superior to others. Why, because you think differently, "dare" to behave differently? Laughing and criticising people behind their backs, saying what fools and idiots they are. I absolutely detest it. Your stupid tone of superiority and know-it-all attitude, when you don't know a single damn thing. You don't know what it's like to think of someone else other than yourself, you don't know the meaning of love, you behave like a nihilist, when you're nothing but a poseur. You're insulting the term "individuality".

This is the first and last time I'm mentioning the above. You aren't worth anymore of my blog space, if you can't understand that there are actually other people with feelings inhabiting this planet together with Your Royal Highness/Majesty.

I was reading some stuff on Persuasion today, and I was thinking about the eight years that Wentworth and Anne waited for each other, whether consciously or sub-consciously. What's it like to love someone so deeply, that the love always, always stays with you, even if you might not know it, and might think you've recovered from your broken heart over the passage of time? Their type of love is a steady, non-flamboyant one, but tempered with ardour and passion. I find it profundly beautiful. Reena finds it profoundly stupid, and therein lies the crux of our conflict about soulmates. Hahaha. Is true love shown through waiting? By how long a person is willing to wait for you? Wentworth and Anne went through much emotional and mental torture, waiting for each other, and in The Lake House, Alex waited two years for Sandra Bullock's character (forgot the name), someone whom he has mainly corresponded with only through letters, someone who has turned him away before and told him to move on, but he still waited. Does love have to be all-consuming in a very real sense, meaning the person is always on your mind, or is it more of a subtle thing, where your life goes on almost as normal, but there's just this song in your heart that gives you inexplicable joy? I think it's a combination of both. I don't believe that love is ever selfish. I believe it's almost entirely sacrificing, only it wouldn't really be sacrificing, because it's love. It'd be more of giving. And you'd expect nothing in return, except maybe his or her love.

Fascinating thing love is. I'd love to experience love. Just once is enough, because I know it'll last me a lifetime.

Somehow, it's become a luxury to actually sit down and blog slowly about anything I want to say.

The worst thing would be not knowing.