Had one of those moments when a creepy-looking person goes up to your door and ask for donations. Not to be racist or anything, but why is it that all these people are Malay, I have no idea. Asking for donations for a charity you've never heard of or selling random crackers and stuff. The only time when people of other races come up to your door for money are those Chinese teens selling overpriced Walls ice-cream sticks and cones. But the problem is, I'm quite a forgiving person, so 73.8% of the time, I would give in, despite knowing that I'm relying on a measly salary. I don't know why. It's like I have this 'connection' with that person all of a sudden and I don't want to ignore him or her. Kinda explains why I had quite a hard time letting go of my old stuff. In fact, the squeaky boat toy I've literally had since I was a baby is resting on my desktop this very moment.

Well over time, this has taught me one thing: Close your doors! Too bad my mother prefers leaving the main door open and pushes all the responsibility to me whenever someone does pop up at the door.

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re-tard-ed
10:24 PM