just finished my retail therapy. and i sort of fufilled my list.
i got the bacardi, new shirts, pair of jeans and shoes. yeah. close to my list. yet to get the beige longs and faded blue jeans. yeah. i guess thats about it.
it was fun buying all the stuff but now that they are under my desk in their respective bags, i dont feel any fun in them. fucking failed retail therapy. its supposed to last! some things dont last.
i was thinking again. ( haha, yes. i think a lot)
and i thought that i jacked myself soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo bad. what an irony, i must say. it just went one big round and got me behind my back like the devil woman? haha. what a joke man.
like i dont know how i should feel about my ironical life now. should i laugh at how i shot my foot? or be gloomy about it? its just really amusing, way too amusing that its not funny anymore.
i dont know how to react to this situation.
i predict a drunk peng tonight. i really forget whats like getting wasted but again, i dont want to embarrass myself in front of others. what a dilemma i'm in.
i feel like a literature text character now. like no shit! i just realised im like ms julie, hedda or barnada, discounting the fact that they are females, my situation is somewhat like theirs?
