And so concludes a week of drama.

It's strange.

For four days of ACSian Theatre, it rained and I swore.

But today was golden as everyday in Anderson had always been (both in good and bad ways) and still I looked for the comfort of water afterwards.

The composition is bad, but an impatient man was rushing me for a shot.

I've wanted to blog since the start of the week.

I even wrote it down on my phone, dated 17 March:

For the past few days I've been receiving signs from the skies, which sound suspiciously like

'Don't fucking shoot outside fool, shoot inside and use the dam batteries you just bought.'

And came in the form of rain.

Sometimes a bath and thunder, when I got stubborn.

On Tuesday, I went to Arab St to get fabric. Walking along the narrow side walk I passed by a particular carpet shop repeatedly in the pursuit of the most welcoming shop (because I'm a retard who fears talking to people) to buy fabric from. The carpet seller smiled, and from where he was sitting (carpet, of course) looking for all the world like a commercialised Aladdin, said hello.

Of course, with the old saying 'never talk to strangers' kept firmly and resolutely in mind,

I said hi.

And waved my camera lamely. (because I'm a retard)

Sigh.

I bought the fabric at the store next to his, which, ironically is a Chinese shop. (retard)

Speaking of batteries, (yes, I did speak of batteries [refer to suspicious voice form the sky] my afterthought just lag) I bought a charger set at the IT fair.

The IT Fair. You know, the event in Suntec where they sell old stock priced a little below retail but still above street price and add in either borderline functional or somewhat useless things to come along with it and make you believe like you're getting things free (yay!) when you're actually paying for it.

Lol.

And that's where I stopped.
Because I realized what I was writing wasn't revolutionising the world.

Nor was it not-pointless.

Sigh.