i am often enthralled by how the lives of some seem to me so utterly meaningless but so perfect by the yardstick of society. their existance revolves around nothing more than the dirty affairs of others and the sales on orchard road, yet they are probably happier than most. the troubles and worries that plague me seem to bounce off them so lightly, and nothing seems to upset them at all. maybe they're so preoccupied with what matters to them, nothing else seems to carry much of an impact. perhaps it's only a matter of sealing yourself in a world of your own.

life isn't fair, we all know. some fight so hard to achieve true happiness, and never really get there. others seem to live there in perpetual bliss with their mediocre existances.

but it's probably just something within me that is fundamentally flawed. i cannot bring myself to conform to the contours of society, hard as i try. much as i would like to add in to the banter on zara's latest spring arrivals, i find myself at a loss for words. so i stick out like a sore thumb, noble enough to be that way so they can laugh at me.

ah heck whats the point of all this? we're all just going to die anyway.

scribbled
6:46 PM