There are moments such as this when coming to write here gives a sense of forebode. Nah. Just mum and reaction not going on. And the latter is making progress no matter what.

Been drinking milo excessively today as a form of indulgence to self after almost a week of abstenance. Also justified by playing badminton later. Rule of my mood: enthusiasm at the onset is bound to turn into dread when event approaches. I can't believe how incredulous I felt that afternoon in early summer, when Jo hung her head low, practically begging RJ that she didn't want to go to LeaderShape Camp anymore. Now now, I'm allowed to feel the same, but I'm able also to stomache that as a normal occurrence of nervousness for something new. It's going to pass without my knowing it.

When I recall my awkward teenage days, marked by that orientation experience at the beginning of JC, I get rather amazed at myself passing through with considerably unshaken cheer, due to better ability then, through quick retreat into my inner world, to deny the others' opinion of myself. Somewhat regret that I can't seem to do the same now. The pleasure of the society has a price. If only I can put a name to those moments when I feel like to just drop everything, hang my head low, admit worthlessness and accept punishment. Talking of punishment or criticism, I feel obliged to be reminded of mum. This is not going to please her because she, like the Singaporean government, wants to be loved. It's quite dreadful to her otherwise.

Awww no! Drank so much milo and still sleepy.