Update

Kay, here's some update on my life before the New Year.

1) Didn't even spend a cent on presents during Christmas which makes me feel kinda bad. But definitely not as bad as shopping. Hate shopping. I don't shop for more than an hour a year.

2)Sister is nagging and being bitchy about everything even though she's not exactly Miss Perfect herself. She's too spoiled. Wonder if it's my fault?

3) Too many people complaining about stupid things which are just to self-centered and superficial to gather any attention from me so I'm gonna be shutting these complains out of my head.

4) New Years coming and I'm not sure if I'm ecstatic or depressed.

5) New Year Resolution:
-Finish Lost Regalia, 139, Dawn of Odyssey and By the Sea
-Practice Parkour more often.
-Studies. Eh... nope, nothing yet. Get RE5 and save enough money for a DS or PSP.
-Get first date (optional)
-Get dump (also optional)
-Get laid (again, optional but much prefered)
-Become a nice asshole. How is this done you ask? Well, I don't really know.
-*GET A JOB!!!*

He who breaks a resolution is a weakling;He who makes one is a fool.~F.M. Knowles

Note to self: Find more quotes and get rid of the resolution list before I become a follish weakling.

Insomnia

Sitting here in front of my Acer Aspire laptop at 1:40 am, insomnia has taken its full toll on me and sleep has been long forgotten. I've been spending these past few sleepless nights with a good book. Namely, Odd Thomas. Occasionally, I would work on 139 or Lost Regalia but either way, both activities tires me to no end.

It occurs to me just how much energy it requires for me to fully utilize my talent of imagination, one of the two talents that I will agree that I have. The other being a basic copyist. As realistic as the images produced in my heads are, the temporal joy it gives also have side effects in which I experience overly crappy insomnia with equally overly crappy tiredness. In short, fucked up nights.

The bed is a bundle of paradoxes: we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret; we make up our minds every night to leave it early, but we make up our bodies every morning to keep it late. ~Charles Caleb Colton

The Thing About Heroes

Never in my life have I ever spent so much time thinking. A few days ago, a certain good friend of mine told me something which I can't seem to get out of my mind. "You are the hero." She said. Aren't heroes suppose to feel all heroic and proud and junk? I'm not feeling that at all. Mostly, I'm disspointed with myself. I've done nothing that falls under the category of being a hero. Neither good nor bad. I've caused pain, sadness and a heap load of misery. Yet created joy, friendships and tones of laughter.

What defines a hero of good? Saving lives? Putting out fire? Stopping a mugging? Or simpler things like cleaning the whiteboard? Fessing up? Write a story? What about a bad hero? Mass killing? Armed robbery? Kidnapping? Or just plain littering? Maybe vandalism? How about giving someone a good licking?

"You are the hero." She said. I should be happy. I have done something to be recognized as a hero in someone's eyes. But I'm not. I'm bloody pissed at myself. And I don't know why. Pisses me off as hell because someone called me a hero. Pisses me off as well when someone calls me a villian. Why, I sure as hell don't know shit.

A coward is a hero with a wife, kids, and a mortgage. ~Marvin Kitman