Ok, finally got around to changing the introduction text. But as you can see, I'm too sianz to write a proper one, so am going to blabber on in hopes that you will get an idea of what sort of person I am by guessing. Yeah, the format of this blog is crap. I haven't got around to fixing it. Later lah.. Much later...
Sometimes I wonder whether he realises how much his words hurt me. They hurt. They really do.
I honestly don't believe he wants to, but how can he not know when he throws them like knives? Measured weapons sharpened and aimed to draw blood, sting and cut.
He throws them carelessly, in such volume and abandon. Yet they are executed with such cunning dexterity, as if to inflict maximum damage.
Does he not realise, I sit there in silence, not because I have surrendered, but because I am dumbstruck by his cruelty? I take it because I don't know what else to do.
If you do not hate me, why do you do this to me? Do you want to make me cry? If I cry in front of you, will you finally be appeased? Will you finally realise to stop it, just please stop?
