This kind of post does not need a title

So I'm drowning myself in work and practicaly anything to escape. To escape from what? From thinking. I want to run away from thinking. That's the reason why I try to pack my days in such a way that there's no crack that a single thought can slip through. I'll wake up in the morning, take a shower, read the newspaper, eat breakfast, go to work, eat my dinner, go back to my room and at the end of the day, I'll be too tired to do anything, let alone thinking. After a brief surf on the net, I'll just crash on my bed and another day will go by.

But sometimes, very few times, when I'm walking to the office or when I'm having my lunch alone or during the bus ride back home or on Sunday afternoon, at those rare moments of weakness, I found myself transported to the realm of the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. And I start to think. And reminisce (Usually accompanied by the humming of 'Everytime We say Goodbye'). And at those moments, it's true, the sun shines less bright, the birds chirp a sadder song and a greyish hue streaks the sky and it seems that there's something missing inside. And suddenly everything else lost their meanings.

Fortunately, these damned moments only last for a while. By then, I'll be able to take control of my mind and distract myself again back to the so-called real world. And everything will be back to normal again. Or so it seems.

But at the back of my head, I know that one of these days, those moments will strike again and I'll lose. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find out then whether life is still worth living or not.

-written on a notebook at 17.05 at Shimei East Kitchen 5th floor