What's the truth about a man on an island?

A phone call at 3am and i quickly got changed and waited in the cold. Not something emergency, not something bad. Hopped on the car in 2 minutes. The smell of alcohol, just a minor one, realised that i have been a teetotaller for months. Driving around without any destination, pub-crawlers were starting to hail a taxi to get home while the others were still making noise on the street. Driving towards north but didn't cross the harbour bridge, the car came to a halt at Walsh Bay after passing by Sydney Dance Company where i picked up my dance lessons last year.

Sydney Opera House was just across the sea. The lightings were all turned on, breathtaking but seemed lonely. Who the hell would care about The Opera House at night, but nevertheless i could subconsciously heard Sherene babbling about the history of it a month ago. lol. Yeh, back to the car. It's wee hours in the morning and the pin-dropped silence made the Bay so dead.

Never care about The Opera House, and keeping quiet was not a better idea either, the topics wandered off from Malaysia to Hawaii to Japan, from childhood to the future, from gossips to reality, my sleepiness had all gone by then. Really, the conversation was so great, it reminded me of what a mutal conversation is like and how wonderful it could be.

The night was still young, whoever said that was a real genius. I never think the night will become any older anyhow until you get tired of it.

Two hours passed with thousands of words spoken. It helped sobering people up, and helped me to put things into perspective. I wondered how rarely do people tell the truth, and how often people by all means trying to hide themselves, and how often do people lie on the pretext of protecting themselves?

I got home at 5-ish. Tried to put myself to sleep but the thoughts were too overwhelming. Put them into a blender, after a few minutes i got a whole new perspective, not an exciting one, but at least an inspiring one that will keep me going for a while.

One question, will you tell the truth when you're talking to yourself? People so often were too fragile to do that and tend to be delusive. And so, what's the truth about a man on an island? noone will seem to get the answer. But if you go deep enough, the answer might just be buried somewhere and waiting to be revealed.

phew, go to sleep la!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!