Superman, Slumperman.

Superman is made of steel. Slumperman is made of tofu.

What so great about Superman as compared to a slumping Slumperman?

I believe all people have its up and down. Am experiencing a double blow, so the saying goes, a "slumperman goes slumper".

I believe office stress plays a part. However, they are manageable. My boss's boss's boss is on my side, so no worries. Though, I wont know whether they are really on my side, given the political situation of my company. There're quite a number trouble-makers here. As I said, they are manageable. There was a bitch who tried to backstab me, by making small reports to my boss's boss. You must be wondering * how do I know about it *. Well, my boss forwarded the "stabbing" email to me for my "reading leisure". I initially thought it was a warning, but I got nothing to be afraid of. I could ignore that bitch's email, but I cant totally ignore my boss's boss email. So I responded. He called me immediately after I responded his email * Dont bother about it * Here I go, doing what I'm good at, and ignore the bitch. Maybe the bitch think I'm * soft * and easily bullied. It thinks I really a man of tofu. I've been around for quite some time, and I met bitches like these before. None of the bitches stayed long with the company.

I believe being a nice person is something the world couldnt accept it. I'm not trying to ask for more so as to being nice. I just hope things could turn out fine for the people I care. I'm not god, and I have no idea how to turn the black into white. And I guess I'm acting over the board, doing too much, and being too nice. I should just mind my own fucking problem and stop being a nosy person. Sometimes, I wanna be a * joker * instead of a stupid idiotic superhero. Slumperman tries to be Superman . . it does sound like a joke.

On the other hand, I really want to be nice to my loved ones. God has approved our togetherness in writing. And yet, no one seem to be able to be nice to me. I dont really need anyone to be nice to me, however, I hope someone whom I share my life with can spare a thought for me. Let me rephrase, if that sounds better, "I expect" rather than "I hope".

I've gotten to a stage where I dont feel like playing basketball.

Dont feel like going to the gym.

Dont feel like singing.

Dont feel like talking to anyone (as usual).

Dont feel like drinking (because it is too costly, and getting drunk can mislead my judgement).

Dont feel like keeping the fishes.
I almost wanted to flip the fish tanks to the floor. I cant imagine how pissed I was, but I know I shouldnt kill any living organism out of anger. I dont mind smashing my handphone anyway, since I did it once. I almosted wanted to throw it at her face, I could recall . . . This is not a joke.

Definitely dont looking forward to eating stingray. The stupid idiot should refrain from doing that again. I feel like eating . . .

haha I know what you wanna say . . * SHIT *!



Just feel like closing my eyes, and think of the happy times I had to keep myself amused. I dont have any fancy dreams anymore. I dont get wet dream too. Since I dont get all this, my thoughts shift to the question of where a human mind goes after death. Does the soul still carrying the thoughts? How about those mentally illed? Are they going to recover after they died? I could imagine if my heart were to stop, that means I lost everything in the world, and I dont have to face anyone anymore?


The more I think about it, the more I wanted to end my life. If that's what it takes to free my mind, I'm more than willing to do so.


There's nothing else in the world that could give me a reason to carry on living (except taking care of my ageing parents).

Remember Mel Gibson's movie, where he pointed the gun at himself every morning and seemed to be asking this * why should I live? *


Superman is slumping.