the world is full of people who are prettier, taller, slimmer, lighter, funnier, stronger, more interesting, smarter, wittier, more intelligent, more reasonable, more charismatic, more charming, more talented, more sporty, more elegant; full of people who can run faster, dance better, sing better, write better, draw better, design better, look better, act better, cope better, 

better than.

better than you.

i've not really been the type to compare 

about not being better than others 

but

sometimes it's not that you're greedy and you want to be smart and charming and slim and pretty and talented and elegant and popular and friendly all the time all at once,

but really when you look around you,

and you look into you, at yourself,

and then you think and wonder,

what's the point of my existence?

what's so great about me?

if everyone was a grade, or a point, 

how many points would i be?

if i keep comparing,

will i die from losing all the time?

will i drown from being at the bottom?

what's wrong with not being at the top?

if i'm not outstanding, extraordinary, striking, amazing, out-of-this-world,

then what's wrong?

what's wrong with being ordinary?

would i be happy if i wasn't the B i am now?

would i be happy if i was the A i admire?

what difference to the world does my existence make?

what impact can i make to the place i was in?

what impression did i leave on you?

what makes me so good that i'm different,

and it's worth it that i'm alive?

what difference did i make to you while i was alive?

what can i give that nobody else can?

would anyone remember what i did?

would anyone miss me if i died?

and then,

deeper,

deeper,

deep,

more, i dwell.

because,

i think,

living should mean so much more.

another sleepless night.

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i was lamenting to my mother over the weekend [on a random topic we always talk about random things cause i always rush home fling open the door and gush about random hall happenings to her and she'll fill me in on the stuff at home and maybe some stuff at her workplace, which, despite its seemingly harmless and soft nature [it's a kindergarten] has it's fair share of backstabbers, bootlickers and office politics] about lots of people i know cutting bangs.

i dont know really. 

its like mixed feelings.

i mean, if you have a nice face shape, 

it doesnt really matter what hair style you have,

cause any freaking hairstyle would look nice on you.

but i really cannot imagine bangs.

not on my face at least.

i was like saying i dont think i can carry off the look, 

though some part of me would like to experiment for once,

and then she was like asking me why i dont think i can carry it,

and then i was like,

oh, i got a bao face,

without my side fringe,

it would look like big bao,

which is n times worse than now

then she was like,

really genuininely,

'NO LAH! you where got bao face now.'

but this made me a little happy,

just for a little while today.

the little one still calls me bao face now and then,

but i guess it's more of a nickname or so,

like how i call him 'the little one',

really just for fun.

i know, it's stupid right?

to be swayed by these things.

but i was happy regardless.