Forgettable

Why can't it be you?, I always asked myself, when I look at them. Why is it so difficult for you to say anything to me, whilst you just happily and easily left your personal mark with other hot chicks ever where. 

At the age qualified for the management position, I imagine what can be outstanding in my resume to make it attractive to the recruiters. Considering the years wasted, no profession based on passion was built, no high-end experience was made, I'm sure I'm the exclusive one that no recruiters want in any positions of an enterprise. Oh, can "half decade of practical proficient skills on dealing with horrific scenes caused by various psychopaths" make the resume look fascinating? No enterprise needs such a skill. So it's a dead end, the job market. But they say the more you fuck around, the more you're gonna find out. Let's stick to fucking around even the end is dead, maybe can find out something. 

One day, I said "cat" in the local language to the cold cat who always ignored me when I called it in my language, the cat turned around to me immediately. It's not because the cat is indifferent, it's just me using the wrong language the cat can't comprehend. Even cats know the local language better than me, so hilarious.

My mind my body are adjusted to the mood for the last day of the month. Then I think of both July and August have 31 days. Vibe wasted. It's fine though, just a warm-up, for the real last day. Every day feels like a year. I've been wasting time since 2015, yet a lot of time remaind to waste, never see an end for me. I don't feel anything is real except pain. If per person has about 30k days alive, I want to waste all the rest days in 24 hours. Cross out all the remaining days at one time. To see no tomorrow.

When you hear "Is it my wall? Is it my house???", you reply with two seconds of silence, this is incorrect. Let me coach you how to reply, under the assumption you want to keep in touch with the listener. If not, just comply to the original epic response — silence. "If you want, they are all yours." "Definitely, they are yours as well, everything I have is yours, that's how important you're to me." Those replies may trigger to false hope, but if you're in favour of keeping the situation — let's not say forever, say, as long as it can as they both still alive, then, just reply as above with no doubt. He who can't even pay the little effort to give a false hope will not have the luck to enjoy the pleasure of lust. Thanks for the honesty to show clearly which position I'm in, tho. Duck another possibility of not being able to use the kitchen again, what a relief!  And it turns out not everyone can say things like "Why are you taki...

There it is, outside the store I go to every day, driven all the way from Deutschland. To just deliver me a message from far far away—333. Let's ask Gemini what 333 means.  The angel number 333 is a powerful spiritual sign that symbolizes growth, creativity, and alignment . It often means you are on the right path and encouraged to express your true self. Spiritual Meaning Mind, Body, and Spirit: Represents the Holy Trinity and total balance within yourself. Divine Support: Shows that your spirit guides or ascended masters are near to help and protect you . Cosmic Confirmation: Acts as a green light from the universe to trust your gut feeling and keep going. Life and Career Creative Boost: Encourages you to start new art projects, share your ideas, and use your talents. Important Choices: Appears when you stand at a life crossroads, urging you to move forward without fear. Inner Peace: Reminds you to slow down, stop overthinking, and find joy in what you do. Love and Relatio...

What a surprise to see a German shepherd on the empty countryside path, in the toad-strangler!  Luckily the big dog was leashed so I could pass by safely, while biting the energy bar in my hand. Some dog is meant to cross path, even the thunderstorm can't reduce the probability of encounter to zero.

What if the world we sense is not based on how we see, taste or feel at all? What if it all depends on the attitude towards everything? You know, in other language, stark means strong, hell, well, hell means bright.

You say " Because I love you", meanwhile fucking other.  You think of the "Because I love you" receiver the moment your hard stone inserts the sloppy slough? No? Yes? Whatever, you chose to fuck.  You love one, you fuck the other one, very romantic, very convincing declaration — those worthless "I love you". You don't know her. So many fish in the pond, you put her in the thrid place? What a joke.She craves only the first place, not some shadowy third place. Third place? Not her thing. Either the first or nothing.  Put away your fake romantic pretense and self-pity. Apply these four letters to those you really fuck, to those you actually milk on, and expect some touching reponse or mutual affection. Not her, she won't buy a single letter of this big word. Say no love please, say you are too broke to afford the expensive real anytime-anywhere sex. AND never underestimate my level of possessiveness, for my man. If you don't feel the stress of bei...

Grey clouds in the morning sky tried to stop my departure, but I've learned from last time — same level of dark cloud but not a single drop of rain just sunny all day.  Two hours later, when I saw rain dropping from my hat, all my back was wet, all my pants were wet, I finally admitted I bet it wrong. I stayed under the rain for one hour, temperature was 57.2 °F. Hands were pale in coldness.  I didn't find shelter, I walked into the rain with the weight in my hand. Sorry, my new socks, first day to go with y'all now all drenched in rain.

The mission of a healer is to heal as much as it can during its interaction with the present of its existence. A naturally born healer never knows what was done particularly to let the other feel healed. Just the repeating reviews like "I should've died if you weren't there", "I'm saved" made the healer ponder its mission in this existence.  But what's the difference between a profession and a mission? You can choose a profession, you get paid from the hard work of your profession. You get excited for the new problems occurring in your profession, because solving it means another tremendous income. You can't choose the mission assigned by the one from the sky. Like it or not, you gotta do it. You burnt yourself to accomplish the mission, yet no rewards should be expected, the mission deliverer cares only about the outcome, as to how you get the mission done is not in the deliverer's consideration. So, burnt or not in the healing process, nobo...

Of course it's hot, if hell is not hot, how to cook souls enough to make them wail? That's where I'm from. 

"Loves you or not, not your business. " "Look at you burning for him like that. " "That's not love." "The other side of the story, you don't know."  "Do you ask him what position you two are in?" ... ... Being dissed and pushed away like that, I decide to still love. I live only for my well-being in every 24 hours. I don't feel well if I stop loving you. I haven't found a way to stop loving you yet in all the time passed by. Feel free to move on towards whichever hot chicks you're fond of. But not me, moving on is not good for my well-being. You're in me, whoever I move on towards, you move with me as well. I always lived for others' expectations, to satisfy others, to feel scared of letting others down. I'd be selfish and live for myself this time, aka, to love you. You think your silence is torment for me to live in? Nah, I'm so familiar with that, the feeling of every one hates me. Thank you for do...

I like how you—a good student abided by regulations, studying so hard to be a full-A graduate, since the very beginning. I like how you demonstrated by hard working, strictly following the rules, you can become an icon amid the mass. That belief in dream will come true and the down-to-earth efforts to work on it are touching. I cherish that purity that you put in this persona based on your own face. Your final choice is exactly aligned with the mainstream you, I wish nothing but the mainstream you going all the way straight to the brightness on the tip of the pyramid, where is far far away from me, me excluded. The earthy you and the windy me, one is realistically on the ground, the other is whimsically in the sky, no crossway should've built for us to create the point of interaction.  In final, you win, your win is my win. Our win, we're one. 

10, 1 goal. Few minutes later, again 10, 1 goal. October 10th?  -ling —, — -ling- played in the same match, the mutual supportive cute vibe between  -ling —,  — -ling- Mom, was that you calling me on the field? I saw your call, mom, how are you in that world? I desperate to see you again.

Hands always get dirty even it's just the simplest task as gathering berries. I was always in a rush, the place has no more water supply, my covered-by-dirt hands always feel rough on the way back to the civilization. Today, despite the rush after I spent extra 20 minutes on picking black currants(astonishing amount of them), I went down to the clean water running near a stream to rinse my hands, but they are not clean, no soap. Then I thought of the soapwort grown near the stairs to the stream, about the ancient people use it to wash precious clothes. Aha, next time I can take a few leaves or white flowers, squeeze the juice to wash my hands. The natural aromatic soap. Nature is kind to the residents in it. To magically create a patch of wild soapwort next to water for those who may need it. Whenever there's a problem, there's is already a handy solution. Most of the time, we are just too subjectively blind to see the solutions, which is just right next to the problems.  H...

Maximum 15 minutes on foot slowly. But when there's only 5 minutes left. I run to make it a 6-minute commute. The first few times, I feel tightness in my chest. Now, I just feel nothing afterwards. Because when I have to run, I usually have a nonstop 2-hour warm-up (hardwork for real) prior to the run.  I run, I say to myself in my mind: "Do I want it? No. Should I do it? Yes. Good for my body. Keep running." I change the mode to walk several times to breathe.  Surprisingly, I breathe much better after every run, no feeling of clots on my back. 

Nobody tells her, in love game, the one who wins, is the one who wins love. The winner receives more love, not giving more love.  Nobody tells her, she lost the game not because she loves less. So, nobody should remind her, the game rule, let her believe that she is loved more.

When our - ling is fighting on the pitch, the row row at the audience section pour all the passion to our red 9. Hey world, you see? They are sweetest, the most romantic duet in every single universe!

For gambles? For the male rizz? For fun? For work? For passion? For glory? For me, I watch it for a reply. Yeah, call me the most superticious audience, please. Have I gotten the answer to my question? Yes. The invisible voice has confirmed it. I feel relieved. Suddenly, I lost interest in the final game. Because, how can I(YL) defeat the biggest winner of all time? Whoever wins, not my business.  I'd carefully bury that precious—confirmed by universe, in my mind deeply. And delve to this chaotic world all alone. Knowing that something exists only in delusions, yet, it's real and more. Only when I'm all alone entwining with the scenario of my precious, that no one can take it away, even the precious itself can't. I fret not, I got that real and more object as a company. I don't need any substitutes to say stuff to you anymore, I have that real and more in me, I'd live with it and wait to die with a smile of satisfaction. Not, that's not death , that's a ...

The universe brings up the question again, apparently the previous answer is not affirmative. Who loves whom more? The Spanish speaker or the french speaker? Hold on a second, sPainish, esPanol, mbaPPe. This time, no matter which side wins, you win. Here comes the ultimate winner of all times!  Love never fails. Cheers~ PostscriPt: The universe knew it all and showed it again, by demonstrating your name directly to the whole world.  How come did I know the win is landslide beforehand? Because it was in my town.

The previous loop is closed, the previous idea won't make a long loop.  From now on, every single day without you by my side will be stored, so that one day, when I (or we) look back, I can feel the length of time on my hands.  The only way to seal it is to have you in my arms. I'm really curious how loooooong it will be.

C out, M out, U out. Thought at least U is in the game, but cannot. Now this a pleasure chasing game none of them are in. They will find another word to imply CUM.  Nevertheless, it's a beautiful game. 

Why the ball just refuses to shoot the net no matter how many times it has been kicked? It just somehow yaw a bit.  Of course can't CUM, only U left in the game. PostscriPt: It came, just late. Sensitive as U, yet the stamina is astonishing.  Why can't we have another draw? Why it tells everyone S loves more than P loves S? Why it has to be 6 to make the late come? On the other hand, could the whole thing is simply a big gift gathering the mass around the world, to 666—the messenger of Light?

Maybe I should go to a pub alone to watch the match at 10 p.m., since no apps work, no TV in the place where I spend the night. But another question occurs—how to order drinks at a pub? Hmmm, never been there before, but do they play match in the public? I'm not sure.  Never mind, I'd watch the replay. 2026 should remember me as someone watched all the matches in a language I don't fully understand. Miss those days when I was at home, just pressed the button at the controller to the sport channel, all matches were available.

The faceless me was found among millions of the cute sassy faces with ultimate rizz, to unfollow. Finally got some sort of reaction. Doubt not, girl, that precious 1000 or 2000 milliseconds that were put into this huge effort, is nothing else, but love, look! L-O-V-E! Like the thunderstorm brewing in the heavy grey sky outside, love, love eventually is pouring onto me.  Love it!

Amongst all the weeds I've ever pulled out, I hated those stinging leaves the most, a random slight touch makes my skin aching for one day or two. The pricks on stems easily pierce the gloves to result in a few days of stinging on my palms.  I hated it so much that I didn't even know its name, but they are so lush around. Recently I came across video clips about how to eat nettle. I noticed it's exactly the leaves spreading everywhere, the leaves I hated the most. Shocked by the various recipes focused on it, I dug a bit deeper. I dropped my jaw when I learned that it's a nutrient bomb. All its properties are solutions to the uneasy feelings in my body. It's like, the thing you detest the most is the ultimate cure to you, ma'am. Is it a test to see if I can save myself by swallowing my hatre?  Intriguing. Got another food available to feed myself leafy greens, love it. Am all in! I'd put on my heavy gloves, collect all the leaves, cook to eat, freeze for nex...

5:20 p.m., the pleasant fragrance of all the little white flowers on three 10-meter-tall tree hailed softly to me from the opened door, saying "come out, hit me up, I'm flowering again, come here to see me~”  8:30 p.m., the air in the tiny spot I sit is filled with the flower fragrance, stronger as the night deepen. I'm nothing but a bee munching the pollen desperately. I breathe deeply, to perfuse my lungs with the soul of flowers. I walked out to smile at that flower tree across the fence. I closed my eyes, inhale, inhale and inhale.  Mother nature delivered the message clearly — backwards is the unbreathable kitchen exhaust,  one step outside, outside the walls, is a world of pleasant fragrance. Choose wisely.

A long-term friend is precious, because a part of the younger you stayed in her memory, help you have a picture of who you were long time ago. "Just thought of you when I ate these sea salt toast." A new message popped up, from a college friend. We caught up a bit. She's still enthusiastic as always, asking me to visit her town, where I graduated. "I haven't been there for ten years, just wonder if there are some big changes." I replied. She said yes, a lot has changed. I was surprised to know I was a toast-fan in her memory. Then I recalled how recently I'm addicted to eat bread raw, without anything else added. But I didn't remember I loved toast since I was in college. Yet some clues emerged, further, before we headed to another twon every weekend, mom prepared two big loaves of uncut pillow-toast for the trip. That soft and super stretchy texture, a bit salty, nothing more. Two flavours were available, salty and sweet, I always prefer the salty o...