I'm sick.

It's Sunday night, 11:48pm, which means my Monday blues is going to hit me in just about 12 minutes. I had a good weekend! Chilling with friends, cleaning my closet, mourned about being 26 with drastic alcohol consumption, night jogging, helped out at the flea market... and yet I still feel completely sick of this city.

Could it be living with my parents? Could it be working a frustrating job where global has managed to freeze our marketing budget and YET still expect us to produce the same about of work? Could it be the acquaintances I see at various places (ie. Clubs/Bars) telling me that I'm fat? Could it be some kind of chinese mystical creature that keeps calling me and wanting to be my everything? Could it be the fact that I wake up every morning thinking, what the fuck am I doing here?

Anyway, I'm not sure how long this morbid feeling will last for, but Taipei has taken it's toll on me. It's time to part and say goodbye. 

Just one point about the boys that say I'm fat... These are boys who have NO MEAT whatsoever on their body. I could probably kick their ass if I wanted to. I would probably crush them, actually. I'm not and I have never been skinny, but I really don't need scrawny femme fobby guys telling me that I am an elephant right now.  There are so many things I could say about them, but I'm just too sleepy. BB.