Nobody Knows How Much Pain A Heart Can Take Til It Breaks And Spills It Sorrowful Memories...What Am I Talking About?

hm, super tired. my feet are aching. my soles feel super sore. my eyes are drooping. my legs feel so numb due to the long standing hours. standing at tcc...standing at the scouts campfire. walking from point A to point B over a few 10 plus kilometres. my arms..well, they are okay. my palms and hands and fingers are the worse. palms blistered. fingers in pain when bend. and my eyes are dry. wait, i talked about my eyes already. hm, wait, did i ever mention that i have great eyes. beautiful dark brown eyes.

anyway, campfire was a success. well, the process was daunting and tiring and it appeared that we were a little unprepared or underprepared for the campfire. but it turned out on that day that we finished everything before lunch time. hm, kudos to everyone. the whole process was over 2 days of which we stayed over in school for. had prata the first day, and light refreshments on the second. the prata was good. the refreshments were also wonderful in its own way. hm, how i wished there was more of those custard puff thingys. hm, then i had to actually like eat and do work (carry the benches) at the same time. then the poor scouts got scolded for eating. hm, the time when i actually just felt like closing one eye. or two.

and talking about work. hm, went to tcc at 3 on the first day. ordered the chilli beef soup. was it spicy or what. hm, but the taste got abit overpowered by the spiciness. hm, but overall a very powerful soup. hm, sea asparagus chowder still my favourite. hm, then now i'm in tcc, on my macbook writing this blog entry down when i could be studying or sleeping or working. hm, maybe i'll be too tired to work. hm, and talking about work...

you know, we all know work gets boring, shitty and sometimes we need the company of friends to make that life better. hm, friends in workplace are good. but we shouldn't actually try to be too friendly in a working environment. why? people try to use friendliness to suck their way up to the top to make life and everything else revolve around them and make everything work for them. make every 'friend' they owe that person a living. and when they use this friendliness with others to attack some other unsuspecting people. back stabbing people. talking behind each others back. hm, we all know everyone gossips (for ladies) and talk a little more then required about other people behind their backs (for men). we all can be saved to say that that may be one of our greatest guilty pleasure. but it should not come to a point when people already know about the stories and everything else going on. we know that everyone may have been jealous(?), envious(?) and cunning(?) for some reason. hm, but why should it come to a point that it hurts someone or just pushes that someone to the breaking and boiling point. and when the victim loses it, he does things he know he'll regret doing but know that that's the best, for everyone. the politics and all that...i've had enough. i've thought of switching...but i know for me to adjust is hard. but i know i can catch up quickly. hm, so long never had to do a shift of bar. does it really matter that if i'm doing a 6 hour shift, 8 hour shift (but at a diferent time slot). hm, the only thing that can only put me a condition of going back to work everyday (and looking forward to it) is the hope of looking at all those pretty matured hot women, ladies...etc. hm, it's unfair. why the girls are served more justly than men.

went tcc exploring the last thursday. looked at city hall, suntec city, funan. millenia walk, circular road, raffles xchane, central. hm, suntec city is abit too bland, and the interior is just too weird. funan, hm, suntec looks like nothing compared t0 some off the other boutiques. it's small, just a round shape (i think, haven't been there yet, but can somehow can read.) hm, city hall kinda rocks, the first place i actually worked at.hm and then they open this cupobrad door, bringing new life to walk in wardrobe.

Culda