things dont exist without a purpose.
on my way down to canteen 1 or 2, there's this road i will use.
on some days, there's be dry leaves and i love the sound i heard when i stepped on them.
to the sweeper who clean up the road, the dry leaves are nothing but garbages.
but are they?
when dry leaves fall on concrete, it's garbages.
when dry leaves fall on soil, it's fertilizers.
it's best to check where you will land when you fall.
Are you vicariously living through me in the hope that my accomplishments will validate your mediocre life and in some way compensate for all of the opportnunities you botched?
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
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