61 - The One.

Here's a poem I wrote three years ago. Now that I've grown up a bit and have studied a fair bit of poetry at school and in my own time, I now know that the masterpieces I thought I had written were, in actual fact, crap. This is because I always had this problem of thinking everything had to rhyme. But anyway, I wrote this one after I got rejected by someone I had unrealistic feelings for. Oh, stupid teenage angst...

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You're the one I saw.
You're the one I met.
You're the one I laughed at.
You're the one I kept.

You're the one I talked to.
You're the one I laughed with.
You're the one I sat next to.
You're the one I ate with.

You're the one I walked beside.
You're the one I played with.
You're the one I really liked.
You're the one I studied with.

You're the one I read to.
You're the one I wrote to.
You're the one I trusted.
You're the one I listened to.

You're the one I texted.
You're the one I cared about.
You're the one I needed.
You're the one I wanted

You're the one I fell for.
And you're the one I loved.

You're the one that made me happy.
You're the one that made me believe.
You're the one that made me excited.
You're the one that made me leap.
You're the one that made me take a risk.
You're the one that made me confess.
You're the one that made me regretful.
You're the one that left me clueless.

You're the one that made me sorry.
You're the one that made me sad.
You're the one that made me lonely.
You're the one that made me mad.
You're the one that made me vengeful.
You're the one that made me lonely.
You're the one that gave me doubts in my mind
if you were the one and only.

You're the one that saw right through me.
You're the one that just noticed.
You're the one that heard about me.
You're the one that just got pissed.

You're the one that no longer talked to me.
You're the one that blocked me out.
You're the one that pretended to laugh
while I cried my sorry heart out.

You're the one that walked away.
And you're the one that stopped calling.
You're the one that stopped talking.
You're the one that stopped trying.

Now, you're the one that I see right through.
Now, you're the one that I'm going to leave.
Now, you're the one that I don't care for.
and you're the one that I don't believe.

Now, you're the one that I don't want.
Now, you're the one that I won't laugh with.
Now, you're the one that I won't listen to.
Now, you're the one that I won't put up with.

Now, you're the one that I won't care about.
Now, you're the one that I don't care for.
Now, you're the one that I'm so sick of.
Now, you're the one that I must ignore.

I'm tired of stressing out every night
after each silence and every fight.
I'm sick of you being The One in all of the above.
It's over, I give up, you've lost my love.

60 - Life is like riding a bicycle.

You may have heard this quotation before. Albert Einstein once said, "Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving." I think it's sage advice, one of the best ones I've ever heard in my life.

I think about the people around me, in my school, outside of school, at home, in the UK, the US, Canada, Australia and the Philippines. It seems like everybody carries some grudge, some trauma, some burden. It's sad because all of this resentment, sadness and worry simply remain there unceasingly. People carry with them their deep, dark secrets for months, years and entire lifetimes. I find it interesting how every single little thing that you do can change the final outcome of your life. There are an infinite number of places I could be tomorrow, several billion people in this world I could meet this year, an insurmountable number of ways I could die at any point.

What astounds me is how one hug, from one person, at one particular time, in one specific place, can make you feel more loved than you ever have. I find it strange how one petty crime can cause your expulsion from school, how one careless mistake can land you in a juvenile prison, how one relationship with a boy can cause a girl several months of great distress, how one name can change your entire social life, how one insignificant argument can escalate to a divorce, how one book can change your life perspective, how one person's words can motivate you, and how one life well-lived can change millions of others. In a split second, your life could end if it had not been for one special circumstance, or one other person, or if it had been a second later. Life is absolutely crazy.

But you pick yourself up after heartbreak, after tragedy, after all the fretting. You shed your embarrassment, your anguish, your melancholy, and you focus on what you can do to turn things around, implement change, and make things better.

'Life is too short to be lived miserably' is the perfect quotation to epitomize this message. You can't wait for the clouds to subside, you can't expect too much from the Sun. If you want a brighter life, one that's more balanced, then that's your right and your responsibility. Keep your chin up and smile.

59 - Just dance, gonna be okay.

I went out drinking again.

I don't know what to say, because I don't know what happened. I just want to sleep my troubles away, like many people do, but I know I will have to face the consequences of my actions tonight.

However, I love the dancing, and some selected drinks.

I miss my best friend. I wish he was here right now.

He would know what to do.

I love him too much for my own good.

I've lost so much in the past few weeks. I want to look toward my parents and my class for some sort of light, some sort of guidance, because they are the people I'm obliged to be with.

On the other hand, they disappoint me, they hurt me, they piss me off.

Am I expecting too much? Am I too susceptible to insult? Am I too emotional?

Yes, yes and yes.

It doesn't matter.

It all doesn't matter because next year I won't even be here anymore.

I don't just mean in a physical sense.

My personality - I'm radically changing it when I go to university.

Even if you come back to me, even if you regret it, you won't find me there.

I'm gone.

58 - Can you name the Countries of the World?

I managed to name all 195 countries (195 according to this game) in 5 minutes 24 seconds. I obviously trained for this, but on my first attempt ever, I got 104. I know, I know, it's sad that I want to be good at such a dumb game, but hey, it's pretty impressive.

One of those people: Amanda

I want to start a new segment on this blog dedicated to some of the people that I have met in my life, because I feel like I've really met a lot of different ones, and they have influenced my life in some way. Haven't you ever suddenly thought about someone in your past that you no longer see or talk to?

Well, I want to showcase some of these people, and they may or may not be that interesting to you, but let's see.

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Amanda was the first person I've ever had feelings for.

I was five years old at the time, and I first laid my eyes on her on the morning of Monday, 2nd September, 1996, my first day of primary school. She was Filipino or Spanish or from the Carribbean, I don't know which, but that was the vibe I got from her at such a young age. She had the same haircut as the woman on the right, but didn't actually look anything like Catherine Zeta-Jones.

She was cute as a button, with big, brown, bright eyes. Her nose was small, cheeks big, just cute in general. Cute, cute, cute.

I don't know her surname. But the thing I liked about her was that she was smart. You see, I was quite an inquisitive kid at the time and the only books I read were non-fiction, and I read about space, and the human body, animals and dinosaurs, history and geography, even a little science.

There was one time when our teacher sat us all down in a circle, and I sat down next to Amanda. Our teacher asked us to share with the class one thing we did in the weekend, but we could only speak if we were holding a little purple elephant in our hands.

I knew it wasn't actually an elephant. When our teacher was introducing this purple 'elephant' to us, I watched as Amanda immediately raised her hand, and said, "that's a woolly mammoth, Miss Harrison, not an elephant". Our teacher responded with, "well, let's just pretend this is an elephant for a while, okay, Amanda?", and Amanda nodded obediently at this.

I knew it wasn't an elephant, too. I knew it from all the dinosaur books I read. And I loved that Amanda and I were both clever, and I liked her. I liked her because she knew it wasn't an elephant. I liked her because she was cute. And anyways, 'Amanda' is such a lovely name.

When my first year of primary school ended, I never saw her again.

But I hope she's doing good out there in the world, whether she's still cute or clever or not. I probably wouldn't be able to recognize her if she passed me on the street... twelve years can change a person's appearance quite a bit, especially when you go from being a child to a teenager.

But ah, well, life is funny like that. People come in, then they leave you sometimes.

In retrospect, to be accurate, it was actually a purple mastodon.

57 - Monday morning mess.

It has been a long time since I have ever felt so lost. Everything is so unclear, including my relationship with my father, how I'm going to tackle all the homework for school, where I want to go for university (I'm reconsidering... maybe), my own aspirations, my moods, why my best friend decided to end our friendship, what my mother was telling me about the future, what I think I'll be doing for my birthday, the plots of various television shows, and where my conversations with her, and him, and her, and him, and her, and him, are going.

All in all, I'm confused.
I don't know what I'm doing.
And I hate it.

But I hear that's normal for a teenager?

56 - Ten Things I Love With The Letter "B".

HektikLyfe, creator of The Silent Podium and Now On Video, has tagged me in a little meme that's similar to my Alphabet Meme before, but this time, it has to begin with B, and it has to be ten things that I love.

I'm assuming we're meant to stray away from anything sexual, or anything that can be suggestive of erogenous zones. It's hard for me, the teenager, but okay, okay. Here's what I came up with:

Bones - The television show, Bones, gave me a fascination with bones and first inspired me to be a forensic science anthropologist. I love learning the names of bones, the etymologies of these names, the structures and the characteristics of different bones and joints, and learning about the way they form, and the ways they can break, and how disorders and fractures can be fixed.

Bowling - I love to bowl, but I haven't been in a couple of years. I really love it because it's in an air-conditioned room, it's fun for the family or your friends, and well, I'm damn good at it.

Beaches - Beaches are my happy places. I can lay on the beach in the rain or sun, at night or in the daytime, summer, fall and spring. (It really is too cold for me in the winter, though.) I actually like sand all over me, seawater in my eyes, hair and ears, and having my skin all sunburnt and peeling.

Bars - Bars and clubs are places that I'm quite familiar with, although I don't go out as much as I want to, mainly because I can't afford to. I'm happy that I've experienced it a fair bit more than my fair share though. I like music that makes you get up and dance. I like dressing up for the night out. And, of course, the drinks don't cause anybody any harm. (Well, yes, they do.)

Broccoli - My favorite vegetable. As a child, I used to pretend I was a giant, and that I was eating trees.

Bananas - One of my favorite fruits. Bananas are unique in that no other fruits are similar to them. Apples are like pairs. Oranges are like grapefruits. Strawberries are also like that, a very weird fruit.

Blindness - This is a book by José Saramago. I think it's a very good book and the movie didn't do it justice. Everyone: purchase this book and read it.

Bicycles - Cycling is like bowling. It's lazy, you just sit back and move your legs. It's easy, it's for the family and the friends, and 'm a natural.

Breakfast - My favorite meal because food for breakfast tends to be tasty and energizing.

Blogs - I can't believe nobody else tagged to do this didn't mention blogging. I think blogs are a wonderful medium for socializing and it's become a big part of my life right now. I love it.

I'm not going to tag anyone, but for sure, tell me if you're going to steal this, I'd love to check it out. :)

55 - We could learn a thing or two from animals.

Humankind sucks.

We are afflicted by money. We scam, exploit and blackmail people. We spend prolifically and worse yet, unequally, and worse yet, insatiably. Basic necessities such as food, shelter, sanitized water and health have a price? Even if we have money, we are trapped by our finances in that we must shape our lives’ paths within the limits of our pecuniary ability. And it breaks your heart to know that you cannot devote all of your money to worthy causes, even though people out there are impoverished and undernourished, dirty and suffering, even though you are not a callous person.

We, as humans, commit the sin of cupidity. We have the liberty to waste our days away sitting on a couch, stare at a useless contraption known as a television all day, and eat nothing but greasy takeaway pizza. We adorn our homes with non-biodegradable plastic ornaments and toxic paintings. Decorations… jeez, we are vile.

We can never agree upon anything, because humans are a bad species that are cursed with the ability to admire, to envy, to fight, to harm each other for reasons other than survival, to cheat, to lie, and ultimately, to hate.

And that is why I admire animals.

Squirrels are clever planners in that they save their food, selectively, so no food is leftover and wasted. In the same way, camels are able to survive happily on their own in vast, expansive deserts with a mere storage of water in their humps. A potato bug, although is mildly depressive, seems to function pretty well living where they live. A cheetah, copes with its environment by being fierce and speedy, and hunts hard to earn their food, unlike us, who lazily input numbers, regurgitate our literature, and press buttons, and push and pull joysticks for our daily bread.

Although a turtle is slow, it is self-reliant, well protected and peaceful. Dogs are known for their loyalty. Cats don't need environmentally unfriendly soaps and shampoos to be fastidious self-cleaners. Birds know how to be free. Elephants are wiser. Pigs are humbler. Monkeys and gorillas are better communal primates than we are. Ants are more hard-working. Dung beetles actually make use of feces, while we just throw all our crap into landfills.

Boy, why can't we be like them? We shouldn't lose some of our animalistic qualities. With a little inspiration from the animal kingdom, I think the world would be better managed, and better lived.

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Oh, by the way, Dad's postponed until Sunday.

54 - Good news about university!

I already was having a perfectly lovely day today, but the icing on the cake was the moment I got home, checked my e-mail, and saw that I received an offer from a university. I clicked on several links, and soon enough, I found out I was given a conditional offer from University College London (UCL).

UCL is one the most prestigious schools in the UK, and the world, especially in the field of anthropology, the field of study I would like to pursue. Three months ago, I thought applying there was a long shot, but I wanted to take the shot nonetheless, because UCL could stand as my ideal institution.

As of now, my decision is to head to the UK, live in the heart of London, and study at UCL, this fall. I'm really excited.

I feel ecstatic that I got in. I hope all you bloggers out there get what you've been hoping for too.

53 - Please, I'm scared.

Just for those of you who are unfamiliar, here's a little summary of my current situation: my parents are divorced and I live with just my maternal grandparents. My father was 'being difficult' last summer in a number of ways, and since July, I haven't seen or spoken to him. He was self-centered, and always moaned about his ex-wives and his boss. Consequently, he was insensitive to my problems. I got sick of him, and that side of my family. He was a waste of my time.

Tonight, on this homework-crammed night, I received a text message from my father that said: "I wanna see you this thursday".

I will see him on Thursday. And I am scared.

In the past year or so, I have gradually become more and more scared of depending on the people who are close to me. This is because, in the past year, I have been greatly disappointed by three people who are very special to me.

One was my best friend. One was a girl. And one was my father.

I think I am partially culpable for my own downfall, but I do hold expectations for certain people because I think giving, sharing and tolerating is what friends and family do for each other. I always take a leap of faith with people because I believe good hearts lie within each of us. Since last year, I've really learned the hard lesson: people aren't always reliable.

But I'm going to see my father with a open heart because I think it is the mature thing to do. I'm going because we are connected by blood. (I am always amazed by how well he and my mother know me so well without the formalities of actually learning about each other that exist with friends.) I'm going because I believe I got angry over something silly, because I reckon I lost my respect for him too quickly in a rush of emotion. And I'm going because shooting some snooker and downing shots of Jack Daniel's has always been fun. With him.

On the other hand, I am scared that he will still be irresponsible, and irrational, self-involved and arrogant. I am scared that by having him in my presence, the negative traits which he has passed on to me by blood will emanate out of me despite my constant internal repression. I am scared that I will have to go through losing him all over again if I get impatient with his cocky personality one night after a taxing day at school. And I am scared that he will distract me, have an impact on my grades, and affect my future.

My fellow bloggers, tell me the sun will shine, please.

Please tell me I don't have to be scared.

Please tell me I'll be fine.

52 - LOL

Click to enlarge.

51 - Alphabet Meme

So I volunteered to do this alphabet meme (link here). AV gave me the letter 'H' for Hong Kong, and I'm supposed to write about ten things that begin with the letter 'H' that carry significance to me.

This was incredibly easy for me, so thank you AV, for picking such a wonderful letter that I wouldn't think would suit me so well at first glance.

Humor - I used to use humor as my defense mechanism, but now, it really is just for entertainment purposes. I love being funny, telling jokes, laughing, and I love it when others can display some wit too. I'm not really a fan of particular comedians, though. They're intentionally being funny to earn money, and I feel it's too unnatural. Everybody knows the true comedians are our hilarious friends.

Hell - I have a fascination with Hell. Even though, I do not believe in the place, I love the concept of it, and the prose, poetry and art that has been produced because of such an ideological place astounds me. I've nearly finished writing a 4000-word essay on the depictions of Hell in literature. If anyone has time to do some reading, (especially those of you who are younger than me and should count themselves lucky to not be in the homework-packed graduating year,) I suggest you find an English translation of Dante Alighieri's Inferno and appreciate the intricacy with which he conceptualized Hell.

Hatred - Even though I have more than one hundred posts dedicated to this one emotion, I do not seriously hate anything or anyone. The word 'hate' is just used for dramatic effect, I'm sure we all know that by now.

Hamburgers - I love food, and in some cases, I just have to have the most basic or classic forms of food. My favorite hamburger would have to be a classic cheeseburger, where the buns are perfect, the meat is the right temperature and softness, and the cheese is melted just right.

Hot dogs - In other instances, I love it when there's a whole lot of flavors mushed into one. I regard a hot dog is best when it is adorned with every additional topping available. I once had one with ketchup, mustard, honey mustard, relish, mayonnaise, corn, melted Swiss cheese, onions, tartar sauce and sour cream. I'm telling you: oh. my. God. So delicious.

Hair - I used to have a very bad obsession with having clean hair. Do you know what agar is? It's basically this jelly-like substance that allows bacteria to grow. Our biology class had to put our nails, or hair, or saliva, something, into some agar, to see if there was any bacteria. My hair, of course, demonstrated no bacterial growth.

Hollywood - I want to be a writer for television and film one day, or perhaps a tabloid writer. Something in the entertainment industry there would delight me ever-so-much.

Hold 'em - I play online Texas Hold'em Poker quite frequently. I'm quite good at it.

Horror - I'm a horror fan, and I end up sweating by the end of horror films, not because I was scared out of my wits, but because I was laughing the whole time at the cheesy dialogue, the fake-looking ghosts, and the other people at the cinema who scream.

Humans - Humans never cease to amaze me, confuse me, delight me, surprise me or influence the way I think. Aren't we just so fascinating? I can't wait to study anthropology this fall.

If you want to play, just give a holler and I'll assign you with a letter. :)

50 - I feel like puking.

Two years ago, I was suffering from my second-most serious case of depression (the first being the time I nearly commited suicide). During this second-most serious case, I constantly felt dizzy, nauseated and miserable. I lacked an appetite and the urge to sleep.

I don't just mean skipping breakfast. I don't just mean I pulled off an all-nighter. I did not eat or sleep for four days straight. All I did was crap, and cry at night in my room. I really didn't know if my mood affected my appetite, or if my loss of appetite led to my depression.

But it was horrible, and I knew I had a problem even by the second day. I refused to eat anything at meals... anything. I would walk past my all-time favorite fast-food chain, McDonald's, without even stopping. I was disgusted by all food, anything from chocolate cake to scrumptious Chinese delicacies, from pork chops to chicken wings, from pancakes with bananas to spaghetti bolognese. I would drink Coke, and puke it out later. Ordinary water seemed to be the only thing I could take in, even though I never drink any water and rely on juice, soft drinks, energy drinks, tea, coffee and soup for my fluids. And as for alcohol, well, you know what alcohol does to you: it makes you puke, but even I, with a tough threshold for holding my drink, puked, and that, my friends, is an astonishingly serious symptom. It's like everything, toxic to my body or healthful for my body, didn't appeal to me. I hated eating, I didn't want to consume anything.

Shit, it's probably the sickest I've ever been.

Right now, I have a virus lying within me that's similar. I woke up today frantically reaching around for my rubbish bin so that I could vomit.

I didn't get any satisfaction, though, because I haven't eaten since Wednesday afternoon, and there's nothing in my digestive system to regurgitate. I mean, it's Friday afternoon now, and I don't have the appetite to eat anything, not even a slice of bread, a small biscuit, or a bowl of congee - basically not even boring, bland rice in a bowl of water.

The one difference, between this time and that time two years ago, is that I'm not miserable. I think things with my family, especially my mother, are going fine. I have an active, lively Facebook, MSN and blogging life when I'm not out with my friends. And damn, my friends make me so happy and they mean so much to me. A romantic life is not in the equation because I'm not desperately looking for it. And I had a week of school that was actually looking up until I was feeling too ill to go yesterday, and now, today.

And it's making me think, am I actually miserable like the last time, but I've only been hiding it these past few days? Is there something I'm denying about how I feel? Am I withholding emotions that I don't want to let out?

I just gagged.

I'm heading to the doctor now to get some medication. I still don't want to eat anything. A big, fat steak would repulse me and make me puke up my stomach.

Shucks, I just gagged again. Talk to you all later.

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Update @ 21:27: The doctor gave me five different pills to take. I have a really bad headache now in addition to the vomiting need. I just went to the bathroom, and basically let out whatever was left inside my body. I don't think there's any food matter inside me at all. I still don't have an appetite. I just feel tired. I'll be back later, I suppose, to give another update.

49 - You people are scaring me.

It's the weekend again, which means I can return to blogging with all the rest of you. I'm sure it's been a long week for all of you, but I hope you all have something to make you feel better this weekend, and something to look forward to this month.

How have I been doing? Well, I have a little something to share. It gets me a bit emotional, but in a good way, so here we go:

This blogging thing that I started three or four months ago has escalated to a point where the people in my real life are telling me I should publish books. They tell me they admire what I've done, that my writing is definitely very commercial and relevant.

I, with complete honesty, do not want to think about it. I think my skills are above average, but that is as far as I am willing to be proud of. It is not my humbleness that makes me think I'm not good enough, it is my practicality and my honesty that makes me doubt I am writer material. I am only seventeen. I am a student that achieves reasonably well in English class. But the reason people under twenty generally do not start publishing at that age is because you need many years of practice and experience in order to be great, to be truly fabulous, extraordinary and unique.

It's scary to have my mother dreaming of me succeeding as an author. Of course, an autobiography, novels and perhaps a 'Do You Hate It Too?' book have crossed my mind, but I am in disbelief. I understand that people in their youth can publish books. I get that I can do it if I worked at it.

But my heart isn't there right now. I want to publish books some day, but within the next three years seems a little soon and it scares me so much, I think I might pee a little. I'm damn frightened of that sort of fame.

Nonetheless, I still love the praise. In the blogging world, people care about me, and have found my writing and my life to be 'honest', 'beautiful', 'charming', 'humorous', 'mature beyond [my] years', 'excellent', 'interesting', 'thoughtful', 'thought-provoking' and 'emotional'. Someone two months ago said they respected me for being so honest, despite the fact that I don't believe I'm very respectable. I uncomfortably carry a high reputation on Blogger, when I don't reckon I am reputable.

This particular blog of mine urges me to be honest, and honestly, frankly, really, I believe I'm just a kid with familial, scholastic, romantic, and friend-related problems, with funny stories, with emotions, with a life like everybody else. I have always told people this piece of advice: you make your own life interesting. And that is what I've done, and what I hopefully will continue to do. I think anyone can do this and could write as well as I do.

Now, I actually get fanmail. Bloggers add me on Facebook. I actually have a social life that reaches further than it ever has before. People know my name, and think of my words and ideas while at work and school. People know me, and think I'm friggin' hilarious and wonderful. For most of the time, I don't believe I walk on the streets everyday, with people all over the world that expect me to write when I get home. I don't believe I've learned so much about so many mind-boggling things from being amongst such a talented, thoughtful cyberclique. I find it hard to believe in things that are this good.

And the rate at which all of this is growing is exponential.

Lately, I have frequently been stopping in the middle of my work to daydream.

And I find myself thinking, shit, what the Hell have I done to my life?

Is this really happening to me?

48 - The late-shift Pizza Hut delivery guy

A particular friend of mine wrote a blog post about a special friend she had, and I'm inclined to think that special friend is me. Following her example, I shall not give her name, or call her to tell her that I wrote about her, but she knew I was going to read it, and I know she's reading this, too.

But she touched on something that really hit me hard, that made me swallow, that made me hold my breath, and that nearly made me cry as I was reading this one paragraph.

In her entry, she said that she found me by accident, and that our friendship should all be attributed to the efforts that I put in to the relationship. She said that I am the one who has encouraged her to partake in sexless hangouts, and that without my invitations, my texts and my calls, she would be at peace with being on her own. She said that she knew I had a lot of other close friends, and she viewed that as being quite depressing. If you look at it in a pessimistic, cynical way, she is just one of a bunch, a bunch of Michael's good friends. I can empathize with that, but read the following:

I know a lot of people. I cannot describe to you bloggers just how many people I know, but a lot of people have told me that I have touched their lives, changed their perspective deeply, been kind to them, appreciate me for my honesty, my scruffy, unique looks, my wit and humor, my sage advice, my hugs, my quirkiness, my words, my actions, my thoughts, my feelings (most notably, love), and my incredibly expansive insight regarding anything and everything.

I know a lot of people, and although I cannot express to you just how many that is, here's a taste:

• I was once suspended at school for collaborative and organized theft. I would go into the changing-rooms at school and scavange for spare cash in pants pockets and bags, while my British friend was the lookout and told me if someone was approaching. We've both moved on since being partners-in-crime, and he now lives in the UK. I love staying up late in Hong Kong, talking to him while it's only the early evening for him. I love him so much. He lives quite close to another friend:
• This other friend is Japanese and he's bisexual, just like me. He's been in England for a year and a half now, and likes it when bigger guys buy him drinks and escort him to their college dorms to spend the night. I fooled around with him many, many times when we went to school together five years ago, and I share all my intimate 'gay thoughts' with him because he knows what that's like. I love him, too, and can't wait to see him again some day.
• One thing that has been interesting for me being a bisexual, is how girls just love to be my friend, but don't want to be in a relationship with me. They like how thoughtful and good with the words I am, and they like that I don't indulge myself with guns, cars, sports, games or hair products. I have a dear friend, a girl, who I used to go to. I don't keep in touch with her much, but I had a crush on her once, and she had one on me, too. Whenever we do talk, she tells me her problems at school, in her family, that she would never tell anyone else about. And it moves me to know that she can find trust in me, a shoulder to lean on, a support system and an ear to listen. I love her, as well.
• I have a gay friend in Thailand, who works as a barista in Starbucks. He's 22, and wants to keep doing part-time temp. jobs like the one he has now. I have loving feelings for him, too.
  
• I have a friend, again, a girl, again, one that I had a crush on. She dances, she loves learning about physiology and anatomy. She always is determined to work hard, to be responsible, to be content, to be accepting, to be rational. She has a father that hits her in the face when he gets angry. It's sad. But unsurprisingly, I love her, too.
• I have similar feelings for twelve people in my class. There's the girl who achieves exceedingly well, and will go to Cambridge to study medicine, skipping the first year and moving straight on to the second. The sad part is that her parents will likely get divorced when she moves there.
• There's the short, unexercised girl who has had to follow her father's 'business' around the world for her whole life, never stopping long enough for her to make any 'real' friends.
  
• There's the boy who really wants to play the guitar for the rest of his life, but can't because his parents can't afford to send him to the US. There's the guy who smokes too much, the girl that fails her exams, the twins who struggle with keeping the peace and lessening the drama amongst all these other people with issues. And guess what? I love my class, too.
  
• I have seven old-fashioned, letter-writing pen-pals in the States, Canada, Australia and China,
• around two hundred people who I've talked to on Facebook in the past year,
• a handful of the LGBT community who I've met in forums and bars,
• teenagers and kids that live in my building,
• distant cousins and my three half-sisters,
• around five hundred schoolmates in three different schools,
• the late-shift Pizza Hut delivery guy, the McDonald's crew that know my face only too well and the 7-11 staff that have served me for years,
• and I have all of you Bloggers, all of you, even my list of 'Blogs I Follow' is very lengthy for following standards, but each of you have touched my life in so many different ways, and have reminded me that the world is much bigger than just your own city, a dot on the world map,
  
• and then I have my Best Friend, the one I trust with everything, the one that loves me unconditionally, the one that I care about the most, the one that has made me laugh more than anybody else, the one who was there to console me whenever I cried, the one that saved my life and talked me out of suicide, the one that stood by me with whatever was hurled at me, the one who knows all the rest, everybody, each individual I've encountered in my life.
  

The point that I wanted to express (and have strayed away from slightly with the whole dramatic, bullet-point thing) is that friendship is hard for me, too. Friendship is something that I don't know how to do well without relying on others. Friendship is something that I don't take credit for, and all I can see for myself is this long list, this incredibly long list that still doesn't convince me that I have a natural 'talent' with friends. I feel like giving up on friendship at times, I hate being friends with people when I get really angry at them. I am not confident in my ability to make and keep friends because I still get lonely, I still feel inadequate and inept, I still find it hard to simply define the bloody word itself.

What I am confident about is that you mean a lot to me, too. But, please, don't ever, ever feel unhappy with the fact that you are one of many. I treasure you, not more than them, or less than them, I just simply treasure you a lot. I've been maintaining friendships my whole life and I am sure that in my heart, I will cherish you after we graduate, and that we will keep in touch until the day we meet again, part ways again, and repeat the cycle over and over.

I hope you can find it in yourself to smile, despite being one of a bunch. You know that's the way I am. You know friendship makes me happiest. You know that I am here to live happily - not prosperously, not for the benefit of society, not for a long time. It says something about who I am in the left-sidebar, which is what I was trying to achieve by putting it there: 'I reckon that bonding with other people is all we humans are capable of doing well, and that the world has the capacity for each and every one of us to find people who we can share our lives with. I believe my purpose in life is to inspire, to share and to be one with the world.'

Like all the rest, I love you, too, my friend. I sure hope it ain't depressing.