The sea carried up a thick, fiery breath. It seemed to me as if the sky split open from one end to the other to rain down fire. My whole being tensed and I squeezed my hand around the revolver. The trigger gave; I felt the smooth underside of the butt; and there, in that noise, sharp and deafening at the same time, is where it all started. I shook off the sweat and sun. I knew that I had shattered the harmony of the day, the exceptional silence of a beach where I'd been happy. Then I fired four more times at the motionless body where the bullets lodged without leaving a trace. And it was like knocking four quick times on the door of unhappiness.

At first, I didn't think I had enough negativity to actually go through Phase II. Yet now, I realize that I do.

There's just too much loneliness now. I don't like being reminded.

Oddly enough, when I search for the "purple crying blob" at google.cm a sentimental page about him pops up. Depressing.

My life is not predictable, because I live it that way. Although I consider all the options that I have laid in front of, quite often than not, I do not guess correctly whatever comes next.
Remember, I percieved my future as a cloak of darkness where I stood in emptiness unable to touch anything solid.

Yesterday I imagined myself being shackled, walking in an orange suit through concrete prision. Oh, such consequences of justice. I need resilence.

Strangely enough, I remember watching an episode of Law and Order last weekend. It was my first time watching it. The cop interrogates a suspect, "There's always a reason behind a murder. Maybe she said 'I love you' one second and the next she's in bed with another man. Or maybe you just discovered that she has been sucking all your savings dry." Yes, there's always reason. Not everybody is that innocent.

It's my last Tuesday in the dorms.