Sunday morning, 10 March, 2013
Suddenly I feel very very lonely. Right now I'm at a budget hotel in Ipoh. I came here yesterday with a friend for We Are the 90's: A Tribute to the 1990's Alternative Music Scene gig, which was well, to be brutally honest, disappointing. But I did enjoy it anyhow, since I am the type of person who enjoys "uninteresting" things. After all, there were a few bands that I think deserve commendation, such as Instake, Meatplow and Sonic Star Radio Jamm. I'm not saying that the other bands don't, kudos to them as well! But, watching them felt more like being an audience in a jamming session rather than a gig where people actually pay to see them play.
Today I'm going back to KL. Alone. Which was both expected and unexpected, whatever that means. Everyone just left me here. Nobody waited, let alone thought to take me out for a stroll in Ipoh. I feel so alone, unneeded, and worse, unimportant to the point that I called my ex-boyfriend, whom I don't want to have anything to do with anymore, TWICE. Even he didn't pick up. I was hoping, if not much, a little, that someone would take me out to Ipoh town today. But of course, nobody even thought of it, because I am a nobody. TO EVERYONE. I am the least important person in EVERYONE'S lives. I never feel more alone. And for the first time in so many months, I actually care.
P/S: This is just me being a crybaby and a baby.
Sunday afternoon, 10 March, 2013
I'm having the worst Sunday of all worst Sundays that I've ever had in my entire life! Who would've thought, the least of all me, that I would be sitting at Coffee Bean in Jaya Jusco, Bercham, Ipoh waiting for the man that I despise the most in the world. I'm having a drink that the barista suggested and I'm not liking it. I tried to continue my reading of Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl but I fell asleep, which lasted for only about 5 minutes. Then here I am writing this in my personal notebook/monthly planner while listening to Coldplay's The Hardest Part, still waiting for HIM at 10 past 2 in the afternoon. I wonder what it's all about.
Who would want to be alone in a city that is not one's own? I just wish that I wasn't here right now, but I am. Must there be a reason for this? If I had taken that 10.30am bus to KL this morning, I would have arrived around an hour ago. But here I am. Waiting and still waiting.
This reminds me of the part in (500) Days of Summer, the part where Summer and Tom were sitting on a bench at Tom's favourite spot in the park, when Summer told Tom that things between them weren't meant to be, and that what happened between her and (now) her husband was. It was the part where Summer told Tom that he was right, that love exists, and that the only thing he wasn't right about was her.