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...
I was telling a friend that day, that sometimes I feel as if I just "collect" people.
I like being alone in company. I constantly feel that I need more people around me, to fill up my time and space; or perhaps just the void within. I need them to define me, without which I feel as if I occupy but a translucent, transient existence.
Like arranging dolls in a circular playroom, to sit in the center watching them watching me.
But in truth, often I find the company of others taxing; troublesome; burdensome.
At times I don't want people to know me. I don't want people to touch me. I crave the ultimate privacy, the exclusive ownership of self; the sole inhabitant of the mind. I'm like the miserly storekeeper who doles out information with a teaspoon; begrudging every little bit of revelation about myself.
Because it's the one thing I truly own? If I open up I fear I will feel empty.
