I guess I'm lucky

I'm sitting in a cafe in France. Why don't I feel how those underground writers feel when they romanticize the simple idea of being in a cafe in France by scribbling their thoughts on a napkin? I guess it usually takes place in the south of France where it's warmer and they have the ability to dress up for comfort and appearance. Up north, priorities change and you end up dressing for heat and then comfort and then appearance. Maybe there's something in the heat. Why do these writers write in cafes anyway? I guess whatever they felt, I must be feeling as well because I'm finding the need to write this and so far, there isn't any real message.

I caught the bus to the train station and I got there way too early. I could go to Lille early but I'd rather not be wandering lost in a place filled with people with relative purpose. I crossed the street to this cafe opposite the train station. During my first steps in the cafe, I was overwhelmed with the smell of bad coffee so I got a hot chocolate instead. It wasn't that bad. I'm sitting in this chair with an empty one on the other side of the table. There must have been at least 6 new people that have entered the cafe and at least 4 that have left since I sat here. With all the people I know at this point in my life, I still manage to find myself alone. Sometimes alone time is a blessing but sometimes it can be depressing. I could go into detail probably if you'd ask me nicely and if I trust you enough to let myself melt in your hands.

(12:25pm, I have to go to catch that train in half an hour)

I've been having trust issues recently. Well I'd say all my life but there wasn't any time more evident than the past few months. I put myself in the hands of an Ecuadorian girl named Samantha, a person I've only known for a few months. Great friend she is. I don't think I shared much with her but I did share the things that were bugging me at the time. I had told her that I'd rather not talk about it and that I'd rather have alone time to try and sort it out in my head which I need as well as I have too many things in my head and they all seem tangled, I can't really pick them out one by one. Anyway, as I was telling her my problems, my trust issues became physically noticeable as I began stuttering and my hands began shaking. I don't think she noticed as we were on Skype. It seems arduous for me to share things but I think that night was a start of me dealing with that problem.

(12:34pm, not too long now)

I've been in France for 4 months and I have met an insane amount of people. Nice people mostly. I have a new kind of love for them. I've met the most genuine person in the world, Melisa from Chile. If I believed in the concept of angels, I think I would say she was the kindest and most beautiful of the angels. Beautiful, not only in the sense of aesthetics but also as a person and even her mind. She is artistic and I love the way she expresses herself. Be it music, art or written work. When I see her at work, I see her lose herself in everything she does. She is definitely someone I will not forget for as long as I have my memory.

I haven't met a single person that gets on my wick. I feel like I have always needed to escape Malaysia. I thank my past for being just that, my past but I may come off as ungrateful if I don't go back. I don't think I have much back there for me besides family and 'friends'.

How did I ever get stuck with them? I used to wonder how they put up with me but now, now I wonder how did I ever put up with them. Our friendships can be best described with the words 'ambiguous' and 'disappointing'. Ignorant bastards. They proudly get angry over things don't matter and they let the actual important things go unnoticed. The girls, who proudly claim to be feminists(bullshit), indulged Him as he basically called a girl a 'fake'. A girl posted HER picture on HER instagram of her in her Chelsea football jersey stating she's a fan of Chelsea forever or somewhere along those lines. This guy takes a screenshot of that and says he "bets she doesn't know jackshit about Chelsea" and then claims that he is "officially hating her" from that day on. All She has to say is "Who is she?" to which he replies "some girl on instagram". He doesn't even know this girl yet he spreads news of her as being a fake as though he knew her since she was born. Even if he did, it is not in his rights to label her as anything.

I called him out on it and he replied with "I don't have time to have this conversation with you. Why, aren't you smart." Or something along those lines. Funny how he has the time to be ignorant, like the rest of them.
I know they all saw what was going on yet they had the audacity to change the subject. Apparently they would rather be friends with ignorance than have the guts to say something.

Whatever, I'm tired.

(On the train)

Happy New Year