gravity is very strong

Recently, im starting to get more and more weary. No, not because of IB work. I mean, yes, but no. Cant really complain with such a unique combi of subs such as mine. In fact, looking at my fellow classmates taking double HL sciences, I cant help but feel that im really a dam slack IB student. Man, I better buck up and start having intense revision for my languages at home, and hopefully one day, I will be able to be trillingually fluent...

Ok, time to undeviate and get on track. Yes, im starting to feel tired, of being nice. Yes, being nice. At least for me, being nice is tiring. Not in the sense that I feel motivated to shave a mohawk and start scratching peoples' car with keys or swearing or something along that line. Unfortunately for me, 'Nice' is not my middle name (though its a beautiful country somewhere in Europe) and though i'm somehow known to be nice by a few others for some reason, well, it does comes with some effort really. & for some reason, that sense of niceness is not really that dominant anymore. One thing is true, trying to be nice is tiring.

All humans are double-faced characters. 口是心非 some might say. We act out what we think to be the best act that fits the environment we are in; an entrenched survival instinct possibly. That nicely wrapped present, with who-knows-what within it. Maybe this guy is just attempting to bear the responsibility and merely trying to act out the 'ideal' role of a Christian. Maybe this guy is still trapped in the idealistic world that when you are nice to people, hopefully people will become nice as well and the niceness just spreads on, just as how it only take a spark to get a fire going. Maybe nice isnt that contagious really, just an excuse for making one look nicer. Batman Begins by plunging himself into darkness before emerging from it a Dark Knight with a purpose. Maybe...

Heck, now is not the time for me to claim such fatigueness. This is the ice that i have chosen to walk on. If i fall, i fall.


TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
Will that make all the difference?

Thank you Robert Frost.