was rotting in bed that night, when my brother came into my room and asked a really random question - yes it runs in the family, all this randomness.
if you were murdered, which option would you prefer in the aftermath?
1. Die, go to wherever you're supposed to go, and be reincarnated.
2. Come back to earth as a restless but otherwise harmless spirit, to live your life as a shadow.
3. Become a scaryass ghost ala that crazy woman in the Ring, and exact revenge on your murderer.
i suppose there are lots of things to consider; identity of the murderer, circumstances under which the murder took place etc etc. but i figured i'd choose number 1, if i had a choice at all. i don't really have a strong belief about what happens after you kick the bucket, but choices 2 and 3 are just so pointless. so what if you return? what's lost cannot be replaced.
anyway i told my brother that the remorse felt by the murderer would be punishment enough. then he asked 'what if the murderer is incapable of feeling regret?', to which i answered "isn't that horrific enough, then? to live life morally bankrupt?" but then again, with life being such a struggle to trudge through, apparently, who has time to think about these kinds of things? the Park siblings, i suppose haha anyway. the question was an imperfect one, and the choices given were definitely limited. so.
i literally did not step out of the front door of my house for FOUR WHOLE DAYS OMG hahaha amazing huh. and in a sudden burst of activity, rushed back to hall- i actually took bus ALL THE WAY BACK TO BOON-EFFING-LAY. and it was nice!
took 190, then 187, then 179. i especially enjoyed the 45-minute ride (umm not really but still) on 187; the bus passed by the buk*it ba*tok are, then the ju*rong area. it was just nice to see people returning home after a day of school/work, the pastel hues of the apartment blocks illuminated by the soft, golden glow of the sunset. you know... just moments before the rush hour starts and it starts getting crowded? i kept looking out of the bus window, just soaking in the scenery of the concrete jungle; the passengers sitting across me kept following my gaze. they must have thought me mad! even as i'm typing this out i think i'm crazy. i'm a tourist of the heartlands, someone gimme a camera please. omg damn cock can. hahahahaha
maybe, just maybe, i can get used to this kinda life. maybe.
