open book

I think it's the number of essays I've had to write recently that put me off blogging because it reminds me too much of work.

Anyway, when I was loitering around Meidi-Ya at Liang Court, I was trailed by an Indian security guard for a while. He followed me around for a while, and then asked if we could "be friends".

It sounds all nice and innocuous, but apart from the implications of that phrase, is the presupposition that everyone wants to have friends. But there are friends and there are friends.

There are those whom you meet all the time, for various reasons, but never out of a genuine want to meet them, there are those you see in school and say hi and bye to; some you laugh about things together and never transgress the boundaries into the uncomfortable, and there are those you hardly meet whom you can't live without. Broad definitions these are, though there are those who fall by the wayside and have managed to evade being placed into one of the above categories.

I don't understand why I'm drawing up these not-very-generalisable yet not-specific-enough categories. Someone come analyse my psyche. I've been doing enough analysing for other people already.