Strange to look at someone who had been such a major part of your life as a stranger. He looks the same, even at this stage, thanks to a stunt in the old days, but feels like we've just met. Like some friend's friend on facebook that I've seen around in school. But when that happens, I don't think anyone would feel a stab or a knock onto something hollow. And that is a very, very weird feeling. It's like remembering something that refuses to be forgotten, yet not being conscious of its existence. And it seems like I am the one drifting away... The crowd is the same. The humour is there. But I'm not. We decided that I am not. And we decided that he's not going to be here either. So it's nothing, isn't it? How amicable. How peaceful. How diplomatic. It was as if the UN stepped in.   

Another emo weekend ):