Jeremiah Ding

19 year old guy

PHD xP Poly halfway drop :x yup im a dropout, and proud of it.

DOB: 24-5-89

Single

Friendster

Loves meetin new people, and then cracking outrageously lame jokes to them. :p

-Someone who I can trust and love, at the same time

-My custom gaming computer :p

-To lose weight! (Getting fat!) T.T

-My custom drum kit! <3

-Moneh! $.$

-Myself

-Drumming

-Gaming (PSP & PC)

-Watchin TV

-Meeting new people

-Drumming ^^

-Girls who fucking cheat on guys

-Naggers

-Backstabbers

-Windows "fucking" Vista

-Norton "so-called" anti virus

-You know who the fuck you are.

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If a man dares to dream, they label him as a lunatic.
If he dares not venture out of his castle, they label him a coward.
If a man fears, they laugh.
If he's courageous, they taunt.
If he believes in his own abilities more than anything else, they break him down.
The man has nowhere to go, caught up in the complexity of his own thoughts.
So, where is he now?
Is he still fighting to find the passion deep inside himself that he once embraced?
Or has he been utterly defeated, killed by his very dreams and ambitions?

He has been fighting an unknown enemy.
No.. Wait. I.
I have been fighting an unknown enemy, which seems to feed on my fears, manipulate my mental stability, and manifest in my dreams. I am breaking down, and I'm trying to hold on. I'm trying. But it isn't working.
Everything's falling apart at the seams, while I'm sitting down, powerless to do anything. It's like watching your own demise unfurl before your very eyes. Hearing your own screams, looking into your own bloodshot eyes. It's demonic poetry.

God where are you in this?
Why have you forsaken me?
God, if you truly cared, strike me down now.
KILL ME GOD. PLEASE. I IMPLORE YOU.
TAKE THIS PAIN, THIS STRESS, THESE DEEP REGRETS AWAY.
Just do it. Before I do it myself.

To any of my readers who still read this blog.
I'm not writing this for sympathy, you can fucking keep it.
I'm not trying to do anything special, you motherfuckers are not worth it.
Don't try and portray any masks of empathy, acting as if you've been through my shit or you've been through worse.
Spare me your pathetic life stories.
I don't need any of those right now.

Hell, I'm at my breaking point.
What do I care?
It's either I slowly die off, or I become stronger.
The latter seems strangely impossible.
I do wonder. 

//8:24 PM//