It is 3.52am and for the second night running, I am still awake and for the second night running, I just had a bowl of spicy chilli-cheese cup noodles and am panting my life’s worth. I was going to shower, then cycle to the laundromat for my week’s load of laundry, but I don’t think my hair will dry in time for me to sleep, not even with the cycling. I don’t use a hair dryer, anyway, which is the reason my hair is actually quite healthy. Ergo, laundry when I wake up later on the Sunday that is my off day. I’ve been awake since 10.30am on Saturday for work so I’ve been awake for about 18 hours and perhaps running on adrenaline and delirium. Being best friends with my sister again is a really comforting feeling. Also, Mochi is lying with me in my bed, she is fast asleep and I wish Adam could see it but regardless, the feeling is a lovely one and it will help me to sleep.
Today for some reason I thought of one of my friends whom I admire greatly and always have. If you have read my blog long enough, it is easy to tell whom it is. He beat up a girl once that she had to be hospitalised and I think he always felt ashamed of it. That happened a long time before I was properly friends with him and despite knowing the story, I never connected it with him because that was no longer the person he was and I never saw that in him, and he definitely learned his lesson. I think he might have carried it around because one time, I was out with him and we saw friends of the girl’s, and he told me they were definitely talking about him and the incident. He is not the only guy I know with such a story, men have the capacity to physically hurt women so much worse than they think they do. But there are always two paths. Some men do it over and over, and they tell the girl(s) that it will never happen again, yet it does, and they never seem to feel guilty about themselves. The latter group does it once, perhaps not so severe, but they are so shocked by what they’ve done, that they carry it around with them, and feel guilty all the time. I have seen both kinds in the course of my life, and I just want to say, if you belong to the latter group, put it down. Talk it out. Don’t shut it out and carry the weight of the world upon your shoulders. Shit happens in life. If you don’t forgive yourself enough to talk about it, nobody will be able to help you. As long as you know for a fact that you’ll never make the same mistake, you’re forgiven. This post is not directed towards anyone in particular, or at least the person I’m talking about is too far removed from me to ever chance upon this. If this hits home with any one of you, rest assured it really is not about you and this thing is far too common to be unique.
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