When a carton of orange juice says the use by date is the 23rd, are you still allowed to drink it on the 23rd?

Why do people not stick to one blog? (including myself)

Why am I still on the computer when I know the excess usage of electricity is making the world hotter and I'm complaining about the temperature already?

Why is it that when I look at brands now, I get this strange urge to want to buy whatever is advertised on the newspaper, when I used to be able to look and brands and go "yeah, ok. whatever"?

Why do I suddenly wish I was rich?

Why can't I make up my mind about how much money I want to make in a month?

Why can't I play with the stock market?

Why do I forget the things that I used to know as a child?

Why have I not grown up?

What does it mean to grow up?

Why do I want to be (of all things) a model?

Why do I find studying easier this time?

Why was the first year so hard?

Why do I feel disappointed that I am not in Oxford or Cambridge when I used to be proud that I'm in NTU LMS?

Why do I suddenly want to look for my Peranakan roots?

Why do I not want to go overseas to study?

Why do I not know how to take care of myself yet?

Why do I not know that I am hungry until I am really hungry?

Why am I asking all this?

And the last question - Why do I want so much to be an oddball?

When you want to be different,
Don't expect the world to accept you.
Yet you want someone to understand you.
And you spend your lifetime searching for that person.
You spend your time trying to stay close to that person.
Making sure you don't lose that person.
People seem lonely when they don't find someone who understands them.
Actually, they are.
How come I'm blessed to have already found two?
I want to be an oddball.
I chose to be.
I remember knowing that I will be different.
Knowing, not just thinking about it and properly choosing.
Like as if the choice was made for me, by me, a long time ago.

We spend our lives doing things, looking for things,
when all this while,
its all inside.
Everything just waiting.
To open up from inside.
But we forget them,
keep them,
or see them but not understand them.
Until they are kept at the bottom of our hearts and minds
trying to find a way into our quiet hopes and dreams.
I wonder what life would be like if we all set them free.
Not everyone would be happy, of course,
my freedom ends where yours begins.
But it is inside the things that we are drawn to
The books we read,
the songs we sing
the art that we draw or look at.
They are in the games we play
the things we learn
the things we touch.
Each tiny little thing hoping to trigger your memory
Each colour, each rhyme, each melody, each twist and turn.
There are some things we like
For almost no apparent reason at all.
Look at them carefully.
Watch them again.
Who knows,
maybe they'll touch something
soft as the gentle breeze in the infinite edges of your mind.