The true stories of me

I think I'm depressed from all the movie-marathoning.

And the movie that started it was Spiderman III. Have you not come across a more emo superhero flick??

Anyway...it made me miss home and miss everything that was missing in my life. When I'm not knee-deep in books...ie. distracted from reality...am I really happy?

Been watching all this sappy flicks with happy endings..cos that's the way I like it..and it sure beats being scared to look at your own reflection in the mirror from all the horror movies. Don't even get me started on thrillers or dramas. So anyway... sappy movies make for a depressed me.

Cos sappy movies like to preach about, you know..knowing what's important in life...and choosing the right path...and all that formulaic shit that makes one reach for the tissues. And of course it's true. Some parts of it anyway. Not that I know what's good for myself anyway. But I know what it's like to be happy.

And being more than 20000 miles/km (?) away from happiness isn't it.

If only happiness shared a place and time.

Am I on a junction to nowhere?