Grumpiness was killed a few minutes ago

My grumpiness was sentenced to death a few short minutes ago. Jolted.

Was going to complain about not being able to find my clothes (which is STILL in my DHL box). No favourite black shrug, no cute plain U2 t-shirts to feel comfortable in, no shirts for impressing for the big roadshow on Friday. Only old lonely man hitting on me by suggesting dinner under camouflage of Singaporeans-bond-together-since-we're-lonely and salsa. Very lethal combination - I decided to avoid him.

Then as I opened one of my browsers to type in a grumpy post and all that is wrong with my wardrobe world. My other browser bore an email that quashed all my disgruntled and acid-lined words. Someone I trained with in aikido committed suicide. Never spoke to him personally but the last time I trained in Singapore, he appeared to be a sincere, cheerful person. Who knew? I had this conversation with many people before: it's the people that really want to die, feel so desperate and lost that they never leave any clues. Those that leave hints, like leaving breadcrumbs in the forest, are crying for help. I always get so upset when I hear of someone comitted suicide. Brings me back to a personal experience. We haven't kept in touch for awhile, but the people she left behind devastated, broke me. I cried for hours after reaching a boyfriend's place. I was inconsolably babbling about not knowing why, seeing her family upset upset me. Maybe to them, we're the cowards, we deal with living because we cannot imagine or deal with death. The infiniteness of the imagined darkness. The end. This leads me to a morbid question, quick death or living like the unfeeling undead?

Why can't the world be like my anime shows e.g. Inuyasha? Light and goodness doesn't win all the time granted. But there's always good friends to tease, support you even when you make mistakes, sharing love, laughs and secrets. They survive, because ultimately, they know they're never alone.


simple beauty