Hmmm.
I just dropped by to post something in this almost-dying blog.
Sigh.
I just don’t have the motivation to do so.
I guess some other day.
Hmmm.
I just dropped by to post something in this almost-dying blog.
Sigh.
I just don’t have the motivation to do so.
I guess some other day.
It has been real long. I apologise for the absence. I will try to update more frequently from now on. Haha.
Anyway! Let this be the first of the many series that I am going to put up here on UTS. Let the series be called…
I apologise for the lack of updates! Mr omeprazole has been very busy as school has started. And my timetable sucks. *sigh*
It sucks when you get confused by relationship stuff. (I hate using the word stuff but I can’t think of any suitable word to use right now. Haha.) All the more do I hate it when it involves me. Argh!
I was having coffee with *Bernard at Starbucks and we talked about a lot of stuff. About life, love and everything under the sun.
And during our long conversation, the topic about different types of people came about.
The queue.
The charge.
The stamp.
Dark room. Flashing lights.
The drink. The jug. The ice.
The music reverberating.
The anthem playing.
The dance floor. The stage. The podium.
Bodies moving. Bodies grinding.
The heat. The sweat. The fatigue.
The clock ticks. It’s time to go.
Back to reality.
The NightRider’s waiting for me.
Just recently, yours truly met up for the first time with *Mark. Mark is someone I got to know from Trevvy for a while now and he then initiated a meet up.
I was never really close to my father. I was always scared of him, always did whatever he wanted me to do (although at times, I would really throw tantrums without him seeing
). I would say that I am much closer to my mom than to my dad. I guess that’s pretty normal for an aj guy? And NO, my parents are unaware of my sexual orientation (but they should know better).