Online recluse.

By lim peh wrote this

I have not been blogging regularly.

I have not been blogging regularly for the other blog.

I have not been active in online communities.

I have not been reading up on blogs of other friends. (and assholes)

I have not logged into Facebook profusely unlike the past.

I have not played online games religiously recently.

I have not touch/edit my photos taken a few months ago.

I have not met up with good online friends for quite a while. (except for one, work purposes)

I have not enjoyed logging on to the internet during work or after work.

I have not spent enough time with my girlfriend. (since we are both equally madly busy with work)

I have not enjoyed my free time. (even if it’s rare, usually i have to “do something” or “go somewhere”)

I wonder if it’s my work.

I lost enjoyment in a lot of things.

I worry about even more things than before.

I am not sick of my work.

Although people at work do make me sick.

In fact i like my work. (ok not entirely, but in an overall sense)

I am not paid enough to “compensate” for my dissatisfaction at work.

I am not appreciated enough at work.

I hate being taken for granted at work.

I hate 3 legged assholes.

I worry about things beyond my control.

I worry about things idiots have a penchant of throwing last-minute.

I hate having a bad back.

I worry about my leg which is affected by my bad back.

I worry about not being able to enjoy sports as i used to.

I hate the public transport.

I hate the inconsiderate idiots who take the public transport during rush hour.

I yearn for a holiday.

I yearn for a car.

I yearn for a home i can call really my own.

I yearn to be able to afford to get married. (fuck the raising prices every year)

I yearn for better health for me, my loved one and my family.

I yearn for a salary i can support myself and my future family comfortably.

I yearn for better work conditions.

I yearn for people in higher places to wake up their fucking idea and see it from ground level than just assume.

I yearn for a lot of things that i can’t be bothered to write here.

I yearn to really know why i am writing this.

Because i really don’t know what and why. So don’t ask.