Jus got back from Marina Square.. Went to watch “Bridget Jones’ Diary: The Edge of Reason” with Hei ren. Its quite a funny movie. I really liked it. Can really relate to how Bridget must have felt when she was in love with the big lawyer, Mark Darcy. He’s so perfect. He’s charming, smart, a real gentleman and not to mention also very sexy. He’s like the one guy that all gals would love to have as their boyfriends. I had someone like that before. He’s jus like Mark Darcy. The perfect boyfriend.

But sometimes when you think you found the “perfect guy”, the “perfect guy” starts to find something wrong about you and you start to find something wrong with the “perfect guy”. Then you start to think, maybe there’s a “perfect girl” out there for the “perfect guy”. Because he’s so perfect, he deserves someone better than you. Someone who’s totally NOT you. She would be prettier than you, smarter than you, and also perhaps loves him more than you. You start to feel ashamed of yourself. Always embarrassing him, saying the wrong things at the wrong time to the wrong people. You always looked horrible in that outfit. Or maybe its jus your makeup that’s all wrong. Your hair looks absolutely horrible. Basically, nothing is RIGHT about you. Everything about you was WRONG.

I think he’s found that perfect girl. I bet she’s smart. I think she’s pretty. I dun think she’s anything like me though. I dun think I can ever be like her. I bet she doesn’t. She looks nice. She must be very nice to all his friends as well. I think she’s not the type of gal who jus swears all the time or jus shouts “FUCK THE BLARDY HELL!” She looks like someone who will fit in with his friends. I never really fitted in. Never knew what to say, never have anything to say. Bridget never fitted in with Mark Darcy’s lawyer friends.

In life, there are always people who are in the VIP room. People like me, who accidentally enters the VIP room, only get escorted out in a matter of time. I’m always too wild and rowdy. But if you cant love me for who I am, you cant say that its love. What is love anyway? Do I even dare to say the word “love”? Who am I to talk about “love”?


loVe iS a deLuSiOn tHat OnE mAn dIffErs fRoM aNotHer.