work is like a game of poker. you don't showhand until you know where you stand. it is kinda sad to acknowledge that you play it like a game and live it up like a dangerous liasion with a lover unknown.

learnt this today when the sun went down. learnt when i was lying on my bed, bitching with jie jie. usually those who cry like a queen who just lost their crown and thorns on their feet are like the cars that have no side mirrors to see their blind spots. somehow the tragic characters get through in life with a shield not to block blows but the blind others from the glare at the tip of the harsh light. you wonder why novels create such blind characters oblivious to the devils of the world and readers who blew their mind raging anger and dismay on their behalf. yet reality plays us like the fools we are.

we imagine what love is like, perhaps from the movies and too many mills & boons those trashy novels. we imagine how wars are fought and won or lost, through the pages flipped through, word for word, line by line and casting our swords to die like the heroes we think we are. we imagine the gracious beings humans are, at least we thought we packed the royal punch somewhere than our lesser kind.

perhaps other than who we are, we play pretend the fairest of the maidens, the strongest of the fighters, the gallant-est of the armed one and the charmiest of the beautiful beings...

we pretend to be kind but actually we didn't care less. we tell you like what our mood puts us to, whether the truth or not, it doesn't matter. if i said i lived this way, no one refuted it unless you are my mirror twin. we pretend to empathize, easier than to tell you actually we are much better are being cruel. we lived without a mirror tipping off our shoulders like the advocate of the devil, a spawn to tell us the ugly side of the coin.

humans are not that great beings, we are all illusionists.