Too little time.

I went out today.
I decided to give myself a break; and I did, some how.
Ever felt that at times, you just want to give up? I just felt like that today. Maybe this was how that mad-ass Korean person was undergoing. Well the difference between him and I is that I don't go around shooting innocent people indiscriminately. There is still good in me. But trust me, it is wearing thin.
I am often labeled as poser of this person-Marcus. Perhaps this is because I was his friend for 3 years. No, 3 years and counting. Friendships don't just simply end because your friend is in another class. In this 3 years, I had learnt quite a reasonable amount of something from him. Style for instance. So when the guru left, I decided to give matters a shot. Then, that was when the shelling came in.
I know I often get stares from certain people in class they deem me as the odd-ball. I act different, I articulate different and I perhaps dress different from you all. Then, that's why I am called a poseur. It's really quite childish isn't it? Pretty much like those few morons in the class who shoot rubber bands at one another in class. I think being a "poseur" is a double-edged sword. You get the chiding from the originals, and your style offends the common folks. So in a way, you are that person who stands out of the crowd, for the better or for the worse.
This entry is getting poignant.
I know some of the comments made are heart-felt. But others, I seriously doubt so. Of the late, I am beginning to doubt about some of the friendships that I have established. Look here, true pals stick together. They don't throw knives when the latter isn't looking and add salt to the wound when he's bleeding.
I am beginning to hate my decision made for joining the Marist family. Perhaps it is more suited and catered to those who had been a Marist since they were from Primary 1. I wasn't. I am a Geylang Methodist student and if given a second chance, I will go to its Secondary School.
But, if I were to go there, I wouldn't have met some of the khakis that I know now. You know who you are. If paradoxes were an every day thing, I wonder what a normal, orthodox day will be like. Will there ever be one?
For the account, I don't intend to change my bag.
I intend to wear my watch whenever I please.
I intend to say what I want to say whenever I want, whatever I want and I don't give a fuck how that twit sized head of yours' think.
I am sick of holding it back and thinking of means not to crush your silly little pride.
If you are thinking that I haven't been the real me, you are wrong. I am nice and I will continue to be nice. Only now, I will be blunt whenever necessary and quit being diplomatic when all the bastards around me are being empty-headed, ego-centric, barbaric monsters.
Am I then to sensitive?
No, I am not TCY material. I am more durable. By the way, I was trailed by a crazy man when I was in Sec 2 and after that, it will take a lot more to freak me out. So, no, I am not too sensitive nor and I a coward.
So what am I?
I am Zhi Yang.
Hmph.