.: Montag, September 30 :.
here i am. blogging while international herald tribune does a cover story about it. half a dozen black crayons and one third of a pre-rolled hgw. drowsiness never left me, i think less in this state of helpless inebriation, if i even think at all. but i find myself missing things, like one of the most exhilirating of the five, the sense of touch. oh yea i miss it. my past surfaces too much, too often.. im not moving on to anywhere this way. i need to get on with life. and since i dont grow with sunshine, i need to figure out what i could use as a substitution. breathing is a chore. i once read if we truly believe in it, we could live on the very air we breathe. and nothing else. of course that was fantasy but the phrase always stuck with me. some of us frequently say, its all in the mind. its a new month. the first day and im already withdrawn into my protective layer. maybe im not one of those who are meant for life and all it has to offer. i cant handle emotions well, i dont have a master plan, i dont think about establishing my career or raising a family, im tired of studying. i dont want to hear my jaw click when i open my mouth. i dont need another mole on my body. i would rather be put to sleep than go through another one of my headaches. for once itd be nice to own a generous portion of optimism.. and only care about myself. or am i that way already? too self-absorbed to let anyone in? it could be seen that way, while on one side im avoiding turning innocent victims into stone and leaving them to the erosion of time, on the other im probably afraid of being spurned, which only leads back to the fact i am after all rejected merchandise; no make that spoilt goods. reoccurence is a horrible thing, the unforgotten memories. keeping this reminds me of when i hid in the bathroom burning my 2nd diary, half a year of my life in writing.. its pages fanning out like a proud peacock, then the flames ate all i painstakingly recorded. and there was that butter cookie tin which was originally for mosquito coils, ended up in a tragic display of denial and initiation of independence; handmade cards, handwritten letters, anything i could burn went in.. typical ceremony. to think i once held those things dear when i still had my heart with me. .: 10:26:00 AM :. .: Sonntag, September 29 :.  i love you nicotine. please dont leave me alone anymore. its great to get back on track. whatever i meant by that. there should have been french fries as well but heck cant ask for so much in one night. morning. and so im making a habit of playing hooky again. its common that id happily do someone elses work for them while neglecting my own. its a bad thing, some people take advantage of it. some people dont. im just one big softie when it comes to helping people out with favours, also it is more complicated to say no compared to saying yes like a mindless robot. either that or i actually think im receiving positive karma for doing good deeds. yeah right. however some things i always say no to. without fail. i have a way with words. theyre all im made of and all i have. sometimes they get lonely and long for the companionship of other peoples words. so my words and your words hang out and chill a bit. exchanging verbs and laughter. telling each other stories about their owners, words dont think about the outcome of what they say. do they? words just enjoy the company so they wont have to talk to walls. exempli gratia right now. noone could solve the mystery of falling in love with words. im breaking out with something. could the time spent away from cigarettes have developed an allergy to it? oh no.. .: 1:28:00 PM :. Anniversary of Death according to his calculation, it has been a year since ice's disappearance. and after all this time i did not know how much of an impact ice had left on him, to even enter dreams and still.. make him break down in tears. there was so much anger and sadness when they two first fleshmet, things went wrong and undeniably it was ice who was at fault. sometimes i feel to blame because i was not here for him, unlike so many who have no patience with suicidals.. i understand the value to convincing them otherwise, and they in return added some meaning to my world. it felt nice to know i had such influences going.. now, the only person closest to a suicidal whom i know, is me. i am not going to kill myself. period. i wonder what went wrong with ice. he was such an egoistic bastard, a health vs. image conscious vegetarian, had more pride than anyone else on #archmage, he would kick me off just because he could.. im lost as to how i got close to him in the first place. as ice would be, naturally cold.. so was he to most people. he was human, everyone has another side of themselves. he loved fluffy and losing his cat probably contributed some. he loved josh, to the extent he went to the gym & had a personal trainer just to build himself up and look good *laughs*. he loved me a little, enough to proof-read my essay of a mouse stealing instant noodles and add hilarious twists at the closing (so i almost flunked that but between us it was a marvelous A), i cant remember anyone else who would help me with my homework virtually, loves me enough to allow me on their floating home, it was a yacht or something.. he introduced me to the world of queers and gay porn :) those were good times. when i could safely get him to step down from the ledge. they say you get what you give.. yet i find myself being pushed off my ledge like my falling would do a big favour for everyone. i dont belong. anywhere. do you know how it feels to be out of place all the time? even with the people you call family. you think i have lots of friends and theres never a dull moment with the amount of people online on my lists, so many and not even one says hello. dont get me wrong, im not sitting here waiting to be paid attention to, i usually take the initiative.. as overly sensitive as i am, i think im a burden i make you carry. how hard can it be to type a few words and send an e-mail. or write an address and lick a stamp. then i think hey, im just someone you know online. and knowing what i look like is so important. thus i dont deserve much except what youre willing to give me. im diseased. and more emo than id like to be. most of all i am scared. the only way to avoid not being wanted anymore is to not want first, si? that way history wont repeat itself and i wont have to live with all that comes attached. do i make myself sound conceited and selfish. i should, this is after all mine. yes i am desperate for a change. yes i am pathetic to not be doing anything to accomplish it. never think things cant get any worse than this, because as soon as you utter those words, brace yourself. i am wrong to say noone cares. i care too much. if the five stages of death really are bargaining, denial, anger, depression and acceptance.. im all set to go. what is holding me back. what? .: 12:01:00 AM :. .: Freitag, September 27 :. Dreams are wishes your heart makes i was having one of my migraine attacks again, i had to try so hard to throw up and get that nauseous feeling out of my system. the weather was cold as it is and i was freezing. freezing to death. there were no painkillers this time. just unbearable suffering, my hot tuna sweater, bundled up in a comforter i never quite liked on my bed. i must have passed out because five hours later i wake up and i dont recall getting ready for bed. also i could see things clearly when i came back to my senses.. yea my glasses never left my face the entire time. where do i begin. if the old saying i put as my title is true: my heart wishes me dead. i died. thats all i can think of typing while a million other random thoughts make their way through the cogs in my head, each like my own private ferris wheel just turning round and round while im also the lone rider on every one, the inertia does not help fill the emptiness inside. i should just start anywhere instead of attempting some form of chronological order, dreams dont hang around in the memory cache for long. it is fading as we speak so i best be quick about my recollection. to start on a lighter note; there were chocolate chip potato chips. my sister was arguing over possession of the tube, insisting my cousin (the one with a hole in his heart) had taken the better flavour which was hers. she declared it tasted like.. like.. see i am forgetting already. coin slot tennis balls. its like a double match, really small area though.. i dont know if there was a net but there was a coin slot where you put in money and a tennis ball will whizz out like one of those automated practising 'cannon' devices. im not sure who was playing, verve? and some chick. ah well he is infamous for adultery. strange that i should dream of your friend and not you. there was some little kid crying its lungs out. apparently the wailing baby was hungry. there was no indication who were the parents, my chest was getting really wet.. i ended up cradling the forsaken thing in my arms and breastfeeding it. hmm i wonder if i had an extra breast, total = 3, whatever it was.. i sure had a lot of human milk. maybe for a split second there i was a cow. the nipples could have been udders right? *sigh* was i the mother. who is the father. questions, and more questions. at some point after the breastfeeding ordeal, everything was dark.. the whole part in between seems to have been erased. and then i wake up. im in bed and i cant recognize my surroundings. staring at the ceiling was all i could do, numbness consuming my physical form. so i stared. i dont know what got into me. it just felt like something i had to do; i wanted to get out of my dead corpse. (mental note: i guess i believe in souls) struggling to leave the confining body, i managed to slip out of me after numerous tries, i expected cowhead and horseface to come claim me i suppose. *laughs* as i sat up in myself checking out my body which was beginning to show a lot of the colour blue.. i could see the complex pattern of greenish blueish veins beneath my pale skin, it had a translucent quality about it. i notice someone was beside my bed. someone in a nice suit. he told me i was dead -like duh- and possibly how i died. i must have forgotten my cause of death or not heard it. he was holding my blanket, the quilt my mother made which i still sleep under everytime i go back to my hometown. unfolding it, he covers me with my blankie as though nothing out of the ordinary is happening and im just being tucked into bed. i was thinking, "i should have made the will i wanted to", as he lifts the heavy fabric over me, i realize its soaked with blood around the center in an oval sort of formation, it wasnt dripping or anything. just blood stains. i died in a pool of my own blood. i got out of bed, stumbling as i tried to stand. the density, weight etc. of my being had changed drastically. no, i did not float. i walked. if that place were indeed my house.. i strolled from my sisters bedroom into mine, where i found my distraught mother crying. oh yea, before i go on, in this dream.. if i try hard enough to be seen, or if you want to see me, i become visible. hmm, perhaps even tangible. i was heartbroken to see my mother that way, she gets up and starts walking almost as though she was about to walk right through me, but i back away and somehow someway she saw me. there was a lot of tears and i hugged her and managed a feeble 'i love you'. oh geez, im crying as i type this. (side notes: i havent hugged my mother since childhood. those three little words i cant remember ever saying to her. however i did talk to her about what would occur if i died just a few weeks ago) i leave her and make my way down the stairs. i meet my dad on the way. he sees me right away, ive never seen him so detached with sadness written all over his expression like he was trying not to show it. there was someone with him, they were carrying a body.. i could see a leg and arm dangling over the side of the stretcher. if i was already laid out upstairs, who the hell was this. i dont know. i dont get to know. after a while, its like the holidays again. i could do anything i wanted. there were no responsibilities. i had no restrictions. the person who gave me my blanket told me i could go anywhere i wished. i knew exactly where i was headed. i was going to visit a person whom i bet wouldnt have any problems with seeing me. they who love you, deserve to know. then i woke up. .: 2:26:00 PM :. "I taste good.. [even on his own, yeah..]" after a month of rest and relax, it has become increasingly obstructive to get out of bed and take that walk over rocky terrain, past grassy landscape... with or without the glare of morning sun in a pair of mata sepet. today it was especially worth the trouble, as i settled down in one of the cushy maroon flip-down seats at the e-theatre (do not ask me why it is named so), ive been a front seater most of my life, mainly because my clock runs at a different time from others and not my own punctuality. how i managed to stay awake throughout the first lecture of computer modelling and animation: we had a guest speaker from Persistence of Vision @ P.O.V. it was so cool. i was totally awed. one out of the two dominated the presentation, shawn, shaun, sean, i dont know which spelling.. but you get the idea. what so great about him you ask. well do you know the gardenia bread advertisement? the one with the singing breadman, groovy jam and butter chicks and silver spoon microphones? he single-handedly created that animation sequence for the commercial. *applause* so he proceeded to give us the grand tour of all behind the scene action, the step-by-step making of the gardenia singing breadman with an elvis head-do, the original backup singers with the dutch lady frock and strawberry leaf hairdo, secrets of the trade (client email response: ..."The -jam & butter- ladies are too anatomically real, especially their private parts. Don't let your testosterone..."), before and after footage of the reality background setting for the ad, video of the hired professional dancer prancing around for reference to animate the breadman, the tying of fishing line to move inanimate things. it was inspirational to see it happen right before me, the entire production that took weeks to complete; so effortlessly put together in an hour or so. i would have given him a standing ovation but err.. nevermind. three hours between classes, what kinda moron sets our timetable. lucky for me i had the "Doodle" IMVironment to keep me occupied with stitches in my side. playing strip tic-tac-toe (no laa there wasnt any unclothing involved actually), sex on the beach and my all time favourite; the dicktree. i should have print screen and saved it, aint one of those everyday happenings to bear witness to a male genital growing out the side of a tree trunk. with a nice pair of testicles too. LOL. sadly i had to depart from this rare arousing laughter to attend mek class. coincidentally the lecturer has artworks on permanent display in the national art gallery. many familiar faces in the class, a 100% project based subject and our requirement to pass is design a street/park furniture that suits the aspirations of Cyberjaya as an intelligent city, and produce a 3D model out of the design. damnit this is like interface design all over again. i feel jaded before even lifting a finger to begin another endless slaving semester. please leave a comment if you have a suggestion for my project. any contribution of raw ideas would be greatly appreciated i reach home just in time to beat the purging grey skies and discover my house guest has evacuated. without a word, note or sign. heh, youre welcome dude. .: 2:53:00 AM :. .: Donnerstag, September 26 :. An Eye For An Eye yesterday i gave in to an invitation to visit the National Art Gallery for the World Press Photo exhibition, despite knowing i had made prior engagements, which ended up in an entangled mess. fast forward to reaching the massive building, this was my second time there, our timing coincided with the opening ceremony of FANTASMATIC (an exhibit of contemporary Chilean art), a plush red carpet was rolled out in preparation of DYMMs arrival. i never understood why commoners avoid stepping on the carpet, in a manner or respect perhaps. onward to the world press photos, as photography techniques is a thing of the past to me, it was enlightening to read the text beside the photos and eye these works innocently with clarity and no cynicism. art lovers need good legs to be able to stand and admire masterpieces so patiently, one of another... exhaustion caught up with me sooner than expected. i suppose i could only abosrb so much at one time and there were four ongoing galleries of exhibits, excluding the the permanent collection. i had feasted on over half the world press photos, on the verge of an emotional breakdown as i gazed at things not likely to ever be seen in the flesh, through the eyes of the aperture-f/stop inclined, i wanted to thank many people. the creator of this remarkable device we call camera, the people who helped it to evolve both mechanical and usage-wise. and of course those who make photography a passion in their lives. it is the closest thing to body snatching for me, to see with someone elses eyes, from their point of view/perspective, while the meaning is left to be deciphered... one could only imagine what the photographer was thinking of while taking those one of a kind, now or never snapshots. while this is a minority thought, most prefer examining the photo itself and i felt the inopportune wave of turmoil crashing down on me. subjective photography, the German contribution 1948-1963 showcased 165 original photos striving for pictorial interpretation. the subjective evaluation of reality through personal imagery results in form-conscious structural photography in black and white, with a decidedly graphic value. its amazing to see work dated so far back by german photographers, especially identifying with things ive been taught such as photograms, perspective, shadows, contrast, shapes and patterns. the manipulative dark room techniques of outstanding percisive quality is certainly worth marvelling at while it takes time to try understanding what my eyes are seeing, unfortunately enough my german reading prowess was too weak to make any meaning out of the photo titles. how i wish i could have had a translator by my side.  it is stupendous how arrogantly self-centered some of us are, you think you got the room with the view... when all you really have is a window facing a wall. .: 12:41:00 AM :. .: Dienstag, September 24 :. Philo (Love for) Sophia (Wisdom) two hours spent on cautious can opening. what can you ask? a can of worms. many elements of daily events lead to differences in the way we live our lives. it could be negative or positive or even both, actions are perceived to speak louder than words.. but not always. does a picture really paint a thousand words, or just a few hundred, one digit? less is more, more is less. listening to freeflowing speech delivered by an expectant father, its difficult to determine if what he is saying is concrete and should be agreed with, believed.. or is he just a rambling individual with thoughts of his own based upon things hes seen and read, but unlike so many others, hes getting paid for it. is exhibitionism the reason more and more are taking their personal lives online, publishing websites about themselves, is this the egoistic consumption he speaks of? like the crack of a whip us bloggers expose our bleeding red streaks at the mention of this. drip. doesnt it make us question the true motive of writing a public journal, sharing our innermost taboo secrets with strangers, revealing imagery of ourselves -occasionally a perversion- and all this for what purpose? to what benefit? posting entries that contain shameful (if you know not of shame, i heartily congratulate you) material, if not already humiliating on its own accord, fragments, typos, if we were to reread something we wrote today a year from now; how would we react? is it so shallow we marvel at the lack of substance. would it elate us beyond words or evoke forgiven disappointments, forgotten melancholy. would we still take pride in the things we chose to etch permanently in cyberspace, once upon a time ago. most of all; are our archives worth reading the 2nd time around? 3rd? 4th? do we deny the antagonizing desire for praise or supportive posse. what makes us so keen to open up to the world regarding our lives, are we competing in a popularity contest, attention seeking protagonists put all together in a single drama to fight between themselves. do we take our writing seriously or at the spur of a whimsical fancy.. humble consideration or boastful gloating. do we type through the eyes of the audience or our own? do others judgement cloud ours or vice versa.. 
There is a very fine line between "hobby" and "mental illness."
- Dave Barry - i am one to be questioning when i could barely answer any myself. a soothsayers apprentice. typical human nature it is.. to act myopic and avoid present confrontation with consequences to come. thank you for your time if you read me all the way down to here. should the awaited solutions call for it, my struggle to compose will be discontinued.. much to the glee of my critical readers. .: 8:25:00 PM :. .: Montag, September 23 :.  slipped my mind to mention yesterday morns mystery goose. in my bed listening to the steady sound of deflecting rain, i heard the persistent honk-ing of a goose. or some other kind of poultry from the same family. weird huh. i even got out of bed just to look out the window and try to spot it, which didnt amount to anything. but the honk honk honk kept going. mmh. after registering my subjects for the new term, i swung by the url where my previous four months end-results were located. i didnt fail anything. as a matter of fact i got two A-s, a B+ and a B-. my cgpa dropped 0.02 points. ironically, the worse grade is for my majoring subject, ah this is not the path to stroll upon while the malay guys are running way ahead. things are getting more complicated, one thing is for sure though, it started with a lot of rain, which only cleared the sky for a gorgeous sunset. chases all the airborn dust away. remember that physical pain in the left side of my chest? its back... without a vengeance, maybe just popped up to say hello or something. bloody ouch. i find it quite pathetic to ask someone to "call me sometime", if they want to call they will, if they dont they wont. why cant i grasp a concept as simple as that? ah but i continue; "especially after you dont see me online for a long time" meaning i dont show up on the internet for days, weeks.. something bad wouldve occured. pessimistic thinking does noone good. particularly when it involves a sudden visit from the grim reaper in an ignorant state from lack of medical advice, if you really think about it most deaths could have been avoided. by enormous odds too. people are just too carefree and vain nowadays, old age is no longer something one strives for, but prefers to avoid.. people think, live happy. die young. and the definition of happy would be? none other than the seven deadly sins. im not trying acting holier than thou and wont preach religion, i sin too... argh screw all that. im curious to know, could the blind see after crossing over to the other side? if i were blind... i would want to own a point and shoot camera and take pictures of everything. when i pass on i would have someone burn them for me (yea yeah typical chinese connection with the dead) so if i do have sight in the afterlife.. well.. i dont know what im trying to say. i cant think of any worldly possessions id have to leave behind for anyone.. my main concern is to not die yet.. nor in a fashion so introvert my corpse would be left to decompose or be eaten by the insects, spiders, lizards and things.. before being discovered. melodramatic? dont even know what the word means. gave some serious thought about what im doing with myself.. searching for something worthwhile to hang on to in the entire pointlessness of denial. ive lost my grip on the leash i had on my feelings. now its rampant and eating tissues like there is no tomorrow. i write with my mouse, white on red. i draw a heart, just one with no arrow impaled. the words are childlike, the names are misspelt on purpose, all this is inferior. my problem is whose name im spelling out wrong. .: 8:48:00 PM :. .: Sonntag, September 22 :. the weekend came and went. im back to where i began all this, coincidentally 'when' i started it as well. almost two whole months of unobstructed daily posts and due to unrealiable network connectivity, i missed jotting down some binary recollectibles. for stuff that happened in 48 hours. a lot couldve happened in 48 hours. argh i wish id stop obsessing over little things like these and give some attention to things that are in dire need of it. like creating that purple and pink blogring. i wake up extra early saturday morning to detach beloved from the electrical outlet and roll up the cable cords, fit all transactions into the proton perdana (i would tell you the colour but i dont know what its called), besides the normal luggage there was a flowerhorn in a plastic aquarium with about 3 inches of water, an out-of-tune classical guitar my age or older, a unidentified leafy plant in a see-through vodka kick bottle, homemade two layered chocolate cake packed into a rectangle ice cream box, a money plant in a glass full of colourful swirled marbles, a yoghurt cup filled with chunks of egg custard, a carload of strange unrelated things. poor fish almost didnt make it.. imagine being stuck in the boot for 5 hours or so on a sunny day. while watching tv with papa, i asked him what the difference between a cigar and a cigarette is. why did i do that. he answered enough to wane my tar coating addiction. naw its just a bad habit really. i dont think i want to smoke anymore. everytime i get the urge to buy a box, ill buy a vcd instead. dang, thats a great idea. i dont think i want to eat anymore. everytime i get the urge to eat, ill go drink a litre of water. then jump up and down to listen to the sloshing sound in one of my four stomaches. i wake up late sunday morning. the left side of my middle hurts like ive broken a couple of ribs and they are trying to puncture their way out. or maybe cause some major internal damage and watch me die bleeding. its a bleak day. im really, really sad. i hate this monthly problem with settling bills, theyre threatening to cut me off as usual. so far everything still works, just need to pay my dues. fast. how do i do that without transportation. *shrugs* eB has a friend now, the white bunny: mashimaro. i havent named him yet.. had a bonding session with them, the bedhoggers. i wake up monday morning. its raining. i steal an additional two hours to continue sleeping, while dreaming of stealing. why wont they just leave me alone. seems appropriate enough that a kleptomaniac would dream of such things.. havent done so for quite a while now. mommy calls. papa calls. theyre worried. i shouldnt have said anything about the pain. my right eye is perfecting its twitch, been doing so for the past week, stupid eye. at least its the right and not the left, yknow what the superstitions say. i thought the rain had ceased but it had not, a tutor gives me a lift to where i want to go, he disses me a lot but i dont think he knows he does. ah well hes got good reason to. i ought to make a pissed list but i wont. sometimes things go all wrong.. its not what you see, but what you dont see thats killing me most. i have to register my subjects now that the problem with finance is settled. wish me luck that ill somehow get run over by a speeding schoolbus on the way home. .: 9:07:00 PM :. .: Freitag, September 20 :. its going to be a long friday and unlike so many others who go t.g.i.f, mine will be spent on preparation to leave the nest and return to flying school. im already behind on my lame-ass reviews, somehow not getting to watch that japanese flick as scheduled has made me eat all my words. once again, never plan anything unless you want it to not work out. things will fall into place the more you disregard them, worrying only gives you wrinkles.  life couldve went on just fine without ever knowing that there are people who review blogs. vlad was enthusiastic upon his discovery and i sorta got dragged along with it, he was right about one thing though, the diarists (sounds like a cow thing eh) who get high points own websites of exceptional quality, both content and design-wise. as it is i feel shitty enough by comparison, but what ticks me off the most is the fact theyre human too and came into this world later; man, do i have a lot of catching up to do. diary_critic is by far one of the better reviewers, others are made for diary-x.. there is even one that puts you on stage for a while, sufficient spotlight to attract moths? perhaps someone cynical enough should start one for our local bloggers. the judging would definitely be different from the norm. ah we are a special crowd arent we.. ala review style: 1st voluntary public vs. self review is of 0.2 «noisrev ©ræwbyddet Rating out of 10: ? Layout etc : ( 2: ? ) Dreamweavers dig this part. i personally respect those who put effort into creating their own templates instead of picking one off the available-for-plagiarism stack. i bet i could come up with something if i set my mind to it, if i couldnt i might as well drop out of my university. the reason why i dont is because i know i would never be satiated with one colour group, or permanent CSS properties, im a mood swinger, fickle when it comes to these things and id spend so much time perfecting something that could never be perfect, the objective of owning a freaking blog would be lost. i constantly need to remind myself; i created this to type letters into words into sentences. nothing else. the more elaborate you make your layout, the longer it takes to load. so there. think of all the people in our country with obsolete pcs. heh. macromedia flash my ass. Annoying writing habits: ( 2: ? ) who the hell set rules about spelling or grammar or the necessity to use capital letters and punctuate your sentences properly. maybe thats a mutual understanding amongst the gwai lohs, what would be so fun about blogging if we didnt insert our natural gift for being multi-linguists in our multi-racial country, straightforward dialects that add humour among other things to entries; otherwise mundane and ishk do i really need to say anymore? the english language is taking over the world, about time we spoiled its patronizing grip with oh-so-keng manglish, singlish, -glish -glish -glish. squishy sound that. i type in lowercase the whole time cuz id have to use Microsoft Word to get everything right. prim and proper sucks. at least i make sure my spelling sokey :) Unique: ( 2: ? ) isnt everyone? if you were working so hard trying to be different from the rest of the world, im curious to know what your posts would sound like. there are too many of us, doppelgangers rate a high chance of reality in my humble opinion.. peninsular malaysia is shaped like a keladi or some sort of tuber.. the more adventurous and opportunistic have probably seen more of the world; in this lifetime, i doubt i will get any further than down under. no not australia, i was referring to singapore. if malaysia is so small and already we have groupies and think-alikes.. what does the world have in store. more of whats available.. with an added dash of spice here and there. unique wor. Quotes from the diary: ( 2: ? ) wouldnt it be super cool if i died and people started quoting from things i wrote. just rather unfortunate i didnt live to see it happen. Would I go back for another read?: ( 2: ? ) im getting tired. would you come back for another read? most of us read blogs because:-
.: 2:38:00 AM :. .: Donnerstag, September 19 :. my lethargic idling days are numbered. the reaction is as usual, half dreading my responsibilities as both student & child plus asinine independence in a lifeform deserted condominium, half looking forward to seeing the familiar faces and quiet time, translated as endless untampered hours online. things are going slow enough to seem like its in a haze -or is that smoke? hmm..- disappointments of not being able to watch an anticipated movie in the cinema and ruin it for other anticipators, cold fries dipped in hot mustard sauce and shokubutsu orange peel essence refills (for malaysia only), watching colourful spheres rolling about on a velvety table with three abyss-like mouths on either side, visible panty lines on petite derrières and invisible on voluptous ones, uncontainable urges to make use of technology and the gift of modern communication, interrupted sleep and soft murmurs, i am hearing just fine but my mind wont think of anything for my mouth to say. *click* the glow on its small screen goes off.. and the darkness consumes. some benign sort of relief has settled over, considering the indifferent response received from the post made two days ago. i got people who have kept silent all this while to type a few words on the commenting bit, yeey. it means a lot to me that people bother to take off a minute or two and leave their presence here, at least i have some clue where part of the statistics are coming from. xie xie. .: 4:52:00 AM :. .: Dienstag, September 17 :. the chicken soup series is an emotional form of torture for demented souls like me. not once has it been easy to read a story and not feel my vision blurring from a conscience forced into overdrive. everything printed on those pages appears surreal in their perfection, the fabled happily ever after endings. too long has it been since the last time eyelids wrung out their lashes and drops of water rolled down the marred skin of cheeks, unable to believe they would live to feel anything more than scorn. and here to read about growing old and awaiting lifelessness, that two beings could be filled with so much for one another, cheeks which fall prey to goodnight kisses over decades. that loneliness is what becomes of one without the other and all the world dissolves into a bleak and meaningless time, passing so slowly one wishes it would end right there and then. drifting in blue eyes which speak volumes, leaves no wish to listen to betraying words of sweet lips.
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
- Harriet Beecher Stowe - theres never been more inaccurate an answer to a 'yes' or 'no' question than the words, i dont know. .: 12:10:00 PM :. You have received a message! buffett cost rm 43 ++ then i chia u see movie oso and drink bubble tea i might as well make the headlines youve got mail. my lou kung asked me out to go pak toh with him. *blushes* hes a hopeless darling, i know hes not rich and still he insists because of our pretend marital status he is willing to pamper me that way. sushi buffet, movie.. i dont know whats with the bubble tea -maybe the hentai fan plans to spike it- sounds good doesnt it? very co$tly to spend an amount like that on someone you hardly know that giggles with you about the absurdities of relationships while teasingly acting the part of a wife. i ask if hes crazy, with the recent financial difficulties hes been facing and all. no wonder he gets taken advantage of by girls but is still unattached. he tells me he doesnt normally fork out that much on a date. then what makes me out of the ordinary? his answer flatters me immensely, because im his wife. thus i deserve the extra special treatment. aww. its never felt better being a female. me and my Rs. You have sent a message! are you conspiring some evil plan against me with kissing as a distraction? You have received a message! no muuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkksssssssss You have sent a message! um darn. *melts* its so profoundly puerile of me, with my cowardice and unfeminine demeanour.. that i would in any way attract the opposite sex in the real world. and so i find myself resorting to the comforts of anonymity, to actually enjoy the bliss of being a 100% woman in my state of delusion. i like it. i like it a lot loving you and being loved in return. but all this while in your mind, are you not painting a picture of me, whom you are dying to know in person, on your palette there are no ugly colours, just the ones you favour most, with tender affection the strokes of the brush held in your hand creates a creature so divine. there could be nothing wrong with her. there could be everything wrong with me. i have never dared to step out into the light.. allowing you to have even a glimpse to refer your masterpiece to while adding the finer details, melancholy rings true when in all perfection the portrait is done but missing in vitality, because she is not real. i am. oh but i have been warned countless times, not to treat you so well, or else.. you would fall for me. or in a lot less formality, "i like you then you know." its a dangerous fiend your own heart, it must be kept under constant surveilance.. for being caught off guard would lead you nowhere but down. i dont know how far is the fall, but i hope it ends mercifully and leaves you unharmed. as for my own, ah my heart. where forth art thou? somewhere, with someone no doubt.. the unfaithful whore. .: 4:12:00 AM :. .: Montag, September 16 :. *sniff* we talk about seeing and feeling a whole lot but our sense of smell is underrated. im inhaling extra hard now while my ears listen to the baking batch of moist brownie batter in the microwave oven going round and round. who could resist the sweet scent of diary and cocoa.. excuse me while i wipe the drool off my chin. as long as it manages to avoid being a double, even though the birthmark on my neck gives the illusion of it.. unfortunately. at the request of brownies over marble cake, my female parent rushes out to purchase the ingredients and proceeds to measure and mix and stir up the kitchen. ♥. walnuts look creepy, their veins a darker brown than their flesh, it didnt occur to me that those were the channels that sent food and water about, until quite some time later. they have a wonderful scent though, or is that just the baking supply shop they came from.. i aid no part of the process myself, finding a windy spot to sit down and attempt to make some progress in my literature book. its a warm day, prior to reading i gave my darling bitch a bath. queer as it is the only trouble with giving her one is catching her, automatically her instincts order a death performance and either i carry the fluffy sheep to the hose or try getting her onto her feet so i could sorta walk her to the intended location. weak protests are made to no effect and i stand rooted with one leg on either side of her plump body, watering her like a potted plant till i decide shes drenched enough before lathering up the shampoo and cooing assuring sounds while doing so. back during her younger days she would have made many escape attempts, squirming away from my massaging hands.. now she just stands there with an unspeakable sympathetic look plastered on her face, those brown eyes so indescribable if you let your consciousness slip, beware of drowning in their calm waters. i finish hosing her down and carry her out of the compound a bit before releasing my hostage, immediately bursting into life like a frolicking lamb in the meadows, hmm or rather an untimely sprinkler set off on a green lawn. returning to my reading, the drowsiness which accompanies warmth overwhelmed my being and i napped in between sentences of words which had no place in my vocabulary. i smell of her shampoo. tippity tapping away at my ant infested keyboard, the freshly baked brownies are out and cooling, awaiting to be covered in liquid chocolate. cherries have been excluded; taste like medicine. never underestimate the strength of smell, as halloween approaches just a word of advice to the ladies with significant others, the aroma of pumpkin pie has been known to be a natural aphrodisiac.. or is it just pumpkin? oh well pumpkin nonetheless will turn him on like a switch. or so insignificant me read somewhere. .: 2:37:00 AM :. .: Sonntag, September 15 :.  milk stirred into french toast egg mixture fried in butter. i dont know much about cooking and im not about to pretend i do. its been one of those unfavourable days when i have to take on the role of a single parent and face the demonic duo. its like having the powerpuff girls play tag in your house, they scream, they brawl, they make an insufferable mess all over and blame each other when interrogated about whose fault it is. to think i had to turn down a sushi lunch invitation for this. i swear staying home with them too much transforms me into their age group, which is too ridiculous to describe in words. i wouldnt want to be the one to teach them about runka, but as times goes by oh so slowly awaiting the elders return.. watching movies in the living room is never a wise thing to do with underaged minors running around... unfortunately, also the only thing i could do to entertain my invisibility in their fervent playing. to my dismay they decide to watch the screen as well, seems to me my life is dependent on screens, computer, mobile phone, television... if books were not made of paper i guess their pages could be considered screens as well. or are they already.. nothing "adult" happens. until the final half hour or so.  they had lots of questions to ask then and very accurate assumptions were made. either i keep quiet or tell them the truth, or some stupid lie thats going to come back to me someday when theyve harboured enough sense in their head to figure it out themselves a.k.a. after their first pornographic material viewing or sexual encounter with the opposite sex.. or by the look of things now, the same sex. i mumbled something. the animated visuals were not helping. at some point they didnt need me to answer them because it was self-explanatory in the movie. so sit back, relax and enjoy it. what better time to learn about blowjobs than the tender ages of eight and nine. .: 2:48:00 AM :. .: Samstag, September 14 :. An object in possession seldom retains the same charm that it had in pursuit. - Gaius Plinius (c. 61 - 112 A.D.) - ive been stood up. oh well, more time to catch up on my hibernation. to sleep and dream whole movies of my own direction. to awake and eat more than my belly is comfortable with holding. the quixotic side of me is deteriorating, though not as fast as germs in alcohol. what would i do if it was rendered lifeless completely. woe is me. i have not much to say in public, thoughts come and go but nothing of interest outshines the blandness of things. .: 8:14:00 AM :. .: Donnerstag, September 12 :. swisher sweets sweet cherry from the u.s. of a. every other person i know seems to be working their way towards lung cancer these days. the only thing worse that being a smoker is being a chain smoker, where you light one and just keep on puffing. as karen says, were obviously getting older since chinese teapots have become a permanent fixture at supper tables. lol. i dont quite grow on my own, since my siblings give me all the youth i need.. but spending time with my peers is something completely different, especially when theyre gee how should i put it; sociably mature? listening to the cantonese conversations semi-leaves me in the dark. club names ive heard of seem so familiar but picturesquely absent, people i know by name but have never seen.. there seems more and more of these as i lose my hold on reality. as usual my being is questioned and my answers remain as vague as they did months ago. mavis (i got an elastic korean keychain for a souvenier from her recent trip) tells me how proud she is of me, that theres noone else she knows who is studying what im studying, referring to my majoring course that is. i replied smugly, "do you even know anyone else like me to begin with?" laughter ensues and they admittedly say no. not to mention my enthusiasm upon mentioning my cucciolos comeback. thats one helluva long term make-belief relationship. i feel so special. we discuss many things in the three hours, lin and co. also turned up expectedly of course since that place is a local favourite, but they sat at their own table nowhere near to ours. my two good high school mates brought up the subject of routine and boredom and which to my own shock, me the most lifeless of them all, started preaching about life and living. what next; flying cows? but honestly, as limited as my area under the coconut shell may be, when one is deprived of abudance, the exquisite becomes more apparent. okay sure i complain about being bored too, and get scolded for not having any passion in my life, passion translates as hobby here i suppose. but im so easily entertained! life has become so direct and ambitious, all most want is success, love, a bed of roses. that should be rephrased as rose petals, whoever came up with it had some ironic sense of humour, never underestimate the presence of even a single prickly thorn. the princess and the pea. as dasse writes,"... so you see you have made a difference in the world :) maybe not big but we all start out small :)" its true, an acorn one day becomes an oak tree. .: 9:20:00 PM :. what a small world. no matter how far or how hard you try to run away from something or someone, it still comes back to you one day unsuspectingly, falls right into your lap with a pretty bow and ribbons attached yelling at the top of its lungs, "surprise!" next time youre walking along the beach and decide to throw some stones or shells into the sea, please reconsider the fact that it took them an eternity to get out of the salted water and just a split second for you to condemn them back into beneath the waves. i cleaned my giant sea shell today and had to lie about where it came from. armed with a toothbrush and some strange hand soap, i uncover its true colours where the exterior actually has stripes decorating it and the inside looks almost alive with the pinkish skin tones. looks like an inviting entrance ;) a speedy recovery from Error 504 [some message about tags]. i cant believe they lost my entire template and i had to reconstruct it *grumbles* it seems almost uncanny that the topic of birthdays should arise after my aquarian post, and i discover fariz and me share the same birthday! so far i have only encountered 2 other people who share my birthday, excluding the present blogger, and both of us are genuinely hysterical over it. at least that makes one less person to forget the day i was born, or i should say.. one person who definitely will remember my birthday. if you scroll all the way down, i have a countdown banner to remind my stalkers. and now that i have said that noone is permitted to forget such an important date! i will change the topic now. i reunited two long lost friends online, it was such a touching affair -no i did not mean that literally- and both of them being such outstanding citizens, if youve been reading the past few entries you will figure out who i am referring to.. one of them insists on keeping a low profile, reminds me of catharsis and his illegal webhacking profile. so i cannot mention names anymore. unlikely that i would be the middle person, ive always strictly believed i know some of the best men ever, in the flesh or not, but wow.. for them to know each other as well. now thats really something. i cant type more because one of my counselling patients has a guilt-laden conscience about premarital sex and i have to attend an appointment with her so.. goodnight you kings of England, ♥ princess of Maine. .: 6:03:00 AM :. .: Mittwoch, September 11 :. i feel like a doormat. one of those brown prickly ones that work wonders at getting dirt off the soles of your shoes but just doesnt measure up to those soft creamy rugs in the bedroom or near the hearth. i shant dwell on that for its become a chore to have to metaphorize everything so i wont have to face the consequences of unexpected feedback. not that there is much response to begin with. its a good outlet for me, all this blogging and customizing html codes as i like on a real webpage instead of the one for my virtual pet's shop, ive finally grown out of neopets, thanks to all the time typing essays has consumed. a little after-dinner banter about pets, i have had so many of them, more than the average child i believe, amongst them all, the only ones that did not die a tragically unforeseen death, was not slaughtered for a meal or returned to the pet shop/set free; were a pair of budgies... these two were special. i could not keep them for long. sometimes you wonder if human beings really are the superior of intelligence, then why is it animals can learn to understand us but we can never figure out what they are communicating between their kind? after a while of owning the two love birds, it became routine for me to come home after school and hear the fluttering of feathers in the house, and i would know that either one or both of them were loose. theyre not hiders like hamsters and other wallflowered animals, so if theyve escaped their cage, you can find them sitting right in the middle of a room trying to figure out where to get out. it was quite easy to recapture them, just use a large piece of cloth or a thin rug, track them down and quickly cover the fugitive with it and theyre helpless. i almost felt sorry that they did not manage to get out of my house before i got home. eventually, they did. eloped and ran away. wonder how theyre doing now. theres this phrase; if you love something set it free, if it comes back to you its yours to keep, but if it doesnt it was never meant to be. always found it fascinating. i am such an emotional wreck. but i wont give in to the greyness like what yahoo has done to their interface in memorial of 911. a world without colour; what would it be like. this is also a historical day for me: fariz invited me into the social cafe to yum cha.  What Drink Are You? its going to be like the archmage mari chat all over again. maybe i get to rebuild a private support group since theyre quite into group hugging :) hopefully my stay does not expire soon, i think ill have one of those pina colada ice blends with extra whipped cream. .: 7:15:00 AM :. .: Dienstag, September 10 :. Aquarius (Jan 23 - Feb 22) - You have an inventive mind and are inclined to be progressive. You lie a great deal. You make the same mistakes repeatedly because you are stupid. Everyone thinks you are a first-class jerk. 
Which Koi Variety Are You? AQUARIUS: 20 JAN - 18 FEB Understanding his/her personality: Aquarians are practical people who love inventing and analyzing things. They are so practical in fact, that they can appear emotionless and cold sometimes. But beneath the cool exterior is a very friendly person, who will quietly do everything she/he can to help her/his friends. He/She's also a bit of a rebel as she enjoys testing the limits of what he/she can and cannot do. He/she is likely to be shy about showing her feelings. He/she's more comfortable with being buddies with someone than acting all lovey dovey. But ironically, He/she's attracted to people who are passionate and affectionate. So, go ahead and write him/her a mushy letter - he/she may not show how much he/she loved it openly, but he/she'll appreciate nonetheless. Aquarius women: A slow started, you idealize love and encompass it with tenderness. Once aroused though, anything goes! extremely imaginative and like trying new things. There is nothing in any sex manual that you won't try. Belief that anything that increases the pleasure for your partner is worthwhile. Best sex mates: Aries, Gemini, Libra, Sagitarius and... miguel says: so true la kan miguel says: hahaha raewbyddet says: uhm no comment raewbyddet says: haahahaha raewbyddet says: ahem *regains composure* raewbyddet says: im not a woman with loose morales ok raewbyddet says: hehe miguel says: HAHAHHA miguel says: i din say dat the last one is still a mystery at the moment but all who are interested may apply. *laughs* .: 1:07:00 AM :. .: Montag, September 9 :. chemotherapy really kills the abnormal braincells that cause my head to hurt. or maybe the multiple orgasms did it *giggle* here's a good question; what is your afterglow like? do girls really want to cuddle up and engage in loving conversation. do guys really want to just roll over and go to sleep. hmm. an excerpt from recent pillow talk; im told id want to learn how to tie a tie. i argued typically at first.. i couldnt imagine myself being in such a scenario, probably being the good caring wife strapped in an apron -signifying a homemaker, no?- standing behind my husband in front of a conveniently positioned mirror -now how would i do that if he were say 6 feet..- and professionally knotting that long piece of fabric into a presentable fashion statement, or in front of him if there is no mirror and i cant see shit standing at the back of him. heck go do your own tie man. like i am capable of guarding the homefront in the first place.. please let me wear the pants *grins* then char siew says, "maybe you dont want to tie the tie for that purpose, but for something else that involves knots." and i go, "ooh.. hurhurhur..." now i want to learn how to tie a tie. .: 12:04:00 PM :. i was number 1 yesterday. it has been a long while since i was ranked first in anything. anything at all. today i am number 2. everything is back to the norm. it must be difficult to be the most important person in someones life. luckily for me, ive never had to carry that burden.  this is cute. i showed it to one of my best guitar strumming friends and he said it fits me like a glove. ultimately fun-loving and laid back. yes i am prone to impromptu activities and entertaining spontaneous invitations to self-destruction. i would sooner be dragged off in a pointless backseat ride to nowhere in particular than be home working on an assignment. natural born slacker. second sentence; bingo. commitment. i never really considered that i would have any problems with commiting. now it seems that i do, since i said no to the one and only person who actually asked me to be a significant other. the one and only.. because then onwards, noone else came close. *laughs* dont misunderstand, i meant physically i never let anyone near to me in an emotional kinda way.. i feel like the son my parents never had or will have (i fixed a bathroom light yesterday -go me!-), and the guys i am considerably close with love me as a brother. this is from my point of view of course theyve never said these things.. despite that, it is easy to tell. youre probably thinking i never gave you a chance. so yeah schizoid me has problems with commitment. love, sex and freedom. a majority of the world stands for this duncha think? i know i do, the ever confusing difference between love and lust. building forts to save myself from losing these constant me vs. you battles. few believe in true love anymore. even fewer know what love is.. me included. everyone needs to get laid. not having enough sexual intercourse makes people negative in a lot of ways. freedom for all living creatures. freedom from self-criticism. freedom from skeptical disapproving eyes. heh now it looks like i have an issue with acceptance as well. dude. thats one word i use excessively and it suits me too. isnt that great? i mean, how many people do you know can say dude as a monosyllabic expression and get away with it? :) .: 3:08:00 AM :. .: Samstag, September 7 :. Impact: not the font family. it is past midnight and i enjoy some of those rare telepathic voice imitation jokes with the second in rank of my siblings. laughter is the best medicine. my dyke mate is here again, she needs company. i understand. i accompany. today becomes a continuation of yesterday. one thing leads to another. nothing i repeat nothing prepared me for what happened in the next 6 hours. sitting quietly at alley located tables, stabbing charcoal chunks of lamb and transparent slices of cucumber, listening to all she has to say and contributing some stupid statements every now and then to prove i am paying attention. she mentions an incident that qualifies as one of those that made a big impact in her life. been there, done that. a figure suddenly appears beside me, i look up.. lo and behold.. its my old high school classmate, karen.. right when we were talking about karen mok. catch up, ketchup, mostly just the usual courteous bullshit and teasing. out of curiousity, i pop a question about mavis who was supposed to be having a break at approximately the same time as me but heard no news from. puffing on lights could possibly be worse than abstinence.. simultaneous short message service standard tones go off, just at different volumes. karen has to leave. i hope she finds the work she seeks in singapore. we sit around a little while longer before deciding some time on the internet sounds appealing. to walk or to drive there, its less than 5 minutes walk away but she decides to change the parking space for her car. fate can be frightening. getting out of the car at the newly parked spot, i notice a very familiar figure, with a very familiar height and very -oh you guessed it alright- familiar walk. could it be..? hastily i try to call this familiar persons handphone to no avail, trailing behind by a distance of about 50m or so.. still trying to get thru on the phone. and i lose sight of the person. my veins are pounding, for reasons i wont even begin to explain. we are standing in front of the cyber cafe, waiting to be let in since they lock the door after 1-2am, the pounding very nearly exploded when i looked thru the three layers of glass panels and saw a confirmation of the person i thought the very familiar person was, is. the impact so great it shattered me, comes right by again. a series of events followed that only strengthened what i was evaluating the day before.. from the minute our eyes met, our seats were side by side -lack of pcs, i had no choice-, i saw mavis on msn messenger which isnt a common thing, utopia has become an obsession, my boredom i showed on purpose. fanaticism fizzled. i took the bait and got into the car, we sped away to get gaya. mutu. keunggulan. joints. and a beer which i had no share of.. my initial other for the word we calls and asks where i am. i answer the absolute wrong thing, that i would go home on my own. the filter burns out, someone is getting a blowjob in front of the 24hr shop. im in front of my house. thats when the aliens took me. Alien Abduction Reward Points. bitch, slut, whore. the rain came. and went. came again and went again. couldnt make up its mind whether to pee or not. liar, always been and not likely to ever change. not referring to me. if e.t. needed something to hold a canned drink, get a freaking cup-holder. hush, dont wake everyone up. brandy and prince are getting old.. they dont pounce upon arrival anymore. i dont know what im doing at the aliens headquarters, or why i was kidnapped. easy target perhaps. it was yesterday once more, rewinding a few years. but looking at before with todays eyes, i saw things differently. what used to be a dinosaur is presently an alien. you dont know wtf im talking about and it matters none. i write this for me. advanced birthday greetings, the breathing of soft billowing particles, the cracking of toes, the proud increase and decrease of falling rain drops, the linking of fingers. i had a request to regain my abducted smurf. untrustworthy alien tells me smurf is located at another base. damnit! rescue mission backfired. did you know that if you are abducted enough times, youre actually collecting points which can be exchanged for items of equivalent value? i got a big seashell. huge hostile looking bony structure with smooth fleshy coloured inside. im told it doubles as an ashtray. there was nothing better to trade for. i did so look forward to meeting my childhood toy again. i cant hear the sea in this shell.. maybe it has been away from the shore for far too long to remember what the waves sound like when they crash on the beach.. i learned many things in the few hours i spent in alien company. i got to know myself better thanks to a commentary session by the alien itself, it really is whats inside that counts after all. they always want more than what im willing to give. give and take. bone breakers make effective weaponry. melt people like me down to pretty much nothing. scent becomes a main factor in alien analytics. aliens have breached the japanese art of bukkake. pussy probes tell me mine is purrfect. anal probes tell crap but they arent all that bad.  How Horny Are You? snapping back to reality and legible writing; it is a beautiful sunday morning, cool and calm from last nights shower. people have not yet begun to wake, excluding the food stall owners and health conscious cardiovascular exercisers. what am i doing riding pillion behind a reckless motorbike driver, i almost have no idea. if the sun stayed hidden and the breeze refreshing like that more often, i would opt to ride on a motorcycle or bicycle or convertible anytime. the wind of gathering momentum is most enjoyable. speeding into oncoming traffic with brakes that take an eternity to even slow down the vehicle is not. reflex swerving over roadkill anytime. i couldve died on this lovely sabbath morning. forgive me father, for i have sinned. The Old Man and The Sea. i couldnt sleep with my hair drenched and didnt really know how to use a hairdryer -it is noisy anyway- when papa comes limping down the stairs, something about his ligaments and morning chills, and asks me what i would like for breakfast. not accustomed to eating my first meal of the day, i couldnt give him an answer.. after all the lame replies i made about getting up early and insomnia. hes going to the simee village market. my wet snakes decided to follow and replace the scent of conditioned shampoo with a mixture of funky seafood, poultry, livestock, & other raw and cooked edible aromas. my lips were a startling crimson against my pale complexion with those haggard eyes. zombified squinting day. every five minutes i wonder if im dreaming all this, standing at the fishmongers while my guide, the fluent hokkien spewing fisherman -papa can name any freaking fish you just try him- chose the catch of the day and paid. the damp reptiles on my head were tasting the succulent air with their forked tongues when the stall mistress held out the fish-prawn-filled plastic bag to me and i had to take it in my right hand. the fisherman quickly makes his way thru the shoals of middle aged people to another fishmonger, i had to ask the stupidest question why, because that stall sells saltwater fish, and i want to buy freshwater fish. d'oh. forgive me if i dont know what i eat. its such an enticing place, the wet market.. so many things to see and so many people to observe. wu tao kou and kan sui chong were purchased before approaching the freshwater section, a heavy suffocating smell is detected, thats where the pork is. waiting for the fishmonger lady to hack and pack up the goods, i recalled with some horror the last time i stood there.. a couple of ladies got splattered with fish blood fresh from the chopping board. but this time the animal rightist was aroused and i stared at the survivors of the whole lot, one gasping weakly thru the mouth.. another trashing for all it was worth. i thought it could not get any worse. obviously i was mistaken. we proceeded to the chicken stall afterwards, me side stepping puddles of contaminated fluid trying my very best not to get splashed. i just showered for crying out loud! it was redundant because we ended up standing at a crossroad smack in the midst of the chicken-duck slaughtering stalls. i had wet plastic aprons brushing against me left and right. it was a stomache-churning affair. dead poultry with their throats slit open, head and neck hanging over the side so their awaiting death equals could see what they were soon to become. two ducks in the metal confinement in front of me were shaking their tail feathers non-stop, sprinkling me with whatever it is that was dripping onto them. i dont really want to go on anymore.. i had to hold the chicken plastic bag in my left hand. breakfast was next, i just swallowed everything as fast as i could. chee cheung fun, pig intestine noodle *lol* why does it not surprise me the fisherman knew the process of making them, promptly ditching that subject for one of more economic values like how being a hawker is better than most jobs.. err.. ookay. we leave. it drizzles. my eyes are glazing over and i just want to wake up from this whole sleep-waking business. please. .: 6:41:00 PM :. You sit down at the center of the Jalrea Mandara drawn on the floor. Resting your arms, closing your eyes, slowing your breaths, and emptying your mind. ....... it is more than coincidence that things should happen all at once, or in connection with one another. old contacts who used to say, "voulez-vous sucer mon peni?" are revived, which brings up the time i dabbled in learning basic french, that in return leading to mon amis who spoke the saliva agitating language, dropping me off at canada.. with a gust of maple leaves and beaver tails. there was a dead person whom i once called brother.. silently screaming to be remembered, and he was not left unheard when my brother-in-law to be sent a surprise e-mail to top it all off.. a unique multi-talented individual i would have never virtually met, if it werent for the former. it has a chemistry to it, how all these events unfold, like it was meant to be. au contraire.. sometimes some things are meant to be. and nothing you could say or do would change that course of action, destined to become what has numerous names, such as fate and luck. we have decisions to make of what we believe. In loving memory of Kent a.k.a. IceShadow it's funny, really, looking out over this river as the (migrating) canadian loons skim the water and swell into the air above me, and i look up into the space of breath between two stars, watching the dying sunset as the sky melts from blue to gold then dripping into crimson and i feel a sort of kinship with the birds. these strange animals, so out-of-place here, returning to the city that i want to be. i wonder momentarily if it's possible to tie myself to their backs and escape this prison of longing. i'm tempted to laugh at these birds, who could plausibly see more of you than i ever have, as they sweep away the clouds into the path of those stars. watching these massive faeries of light makes me smile because it's possible that somewhere you're staring right back at the same blasts of fire and dreaming of me. but thinking of you almost brings me to tears (as is often the case these days) since i'm still reminded of the ocean of land that seems determined to separate us. and i wonder if it's fair to degrade my love for you by putting it into words and i also wonder if those words could ever really say what i want them to. i mean, this all seems so easy for me to think since i think i'm finally out of suicide mode. - Le IceShadow -
fluffy misses you. .: 1:21:00 AM :. .: Freitag, September 6 :.  What is your Alter-Ego Personality? it has been two consecutive days since i first decided to play the role of chun toi, chun lis whoever, the humidity is causing many unnecessary pains for me. instead of twisting my pet snakes into a single coil to be attached to the back of my head, they now have more room to desuffocate.. being separated as two knotted curls with their tails grazing, once again, the back of my head. hair isnt quite hair if it isnt on your head, although it may emit a sense of masculinity to an extent for the males, woman shouldnt have been given glands to grow hair anywhere else but on their crowns. maybe in their nostrils too, non-filtered air can be deadly. it should have been a warning to me, being a newborn with a full head of black hair.. while other infants barely had a tuft on their bald heads. i shouldve known the growth would get out of hand. the headache also decided to stick with me, if only we could talk. im sure it would have a lot to tell me about why it is extending its unwelcomed stay. perhaps my detachment from the frequent chemotherapy could be a cause. if i insist on a silver lining, it would have to be that im not nauseous. which would be a good sign that im not pregnant, but how the hell can one conceive without the assistance of the opposite sex. in vitro does not count, technically sperm is still required to make that work thus.. nyanyanya. have you ever seen your parents recreate a scene from romeo and juliet? i have. this has to be one of the most reoccurent unsolved mysteries of all time for me, the marriage of my parents. they have nothing in common. and as every other offspring -i assume-, i cannot imagine them copulating. it is just too 'out there'. ive openly remarked about the status of their relationship more than a few times, my mother could do no better than agree with me. i dare not provoke my father, in case he gets offended. theyre no dharma and greg, perfect union of opposites? i beg to differ.. and still; as mismatched as these two are, there is no marital infidelity. just a lot of patience and good nature. papa sometimes makes me sit down and listen to awkward things he has to say, like what a great mother my mother makes, or how she is his best friend. or how he smashed up someone whom his brother dislikes car when he was younger, i know that is completely irrelevant. no my dad does not abuse my mom.. not in ways i know of *grins* i admire what they have, how they tolerate each others imperfections, that even after two decades of unbroken vows.. there are still roses on valentines day, hugs and kisses, forgiven forgotten birthdays. it may not seem to be the mythical form of love, but perhaps this is what real love is..
"What's in name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet."
- William Shakespeare - .: 12:08:00 AM :. .: Mittwoch, September 4 :. a little delirious from those excruciating headaches again, who wouldve known it was coming so swift and merciless. i was ballistic upon returning from the night market; the issues i faced prior to going lingering but almost gone. earlier in the day a parent suggested we go and later in the day i invited my friend who had casually hinted she wanted to go the day before, such trifle things that set off the alarm on my conscience. i cant say im insensitive after this revelation now can i. why the parent and the friend cannot go with yours truly together in one automobile has its own many unimportant excuses, but whom do i go with.. theres another problem i had no solution to. it felt like those situations; possessive individuals demanding to know your preference between them.. "there is not enough space for the both of us", "either i go or he/she goes".. or a poor domestic animal commanded to sit in a tight spot while two kindly handlers move to either side of it and launch immediately into their own ways of summoning it, just to test who has a stronger influence or maybe deeper emotional ties. seriously, i am just making this up as i go along. in the end i chose, hastily and had quite a generous amount of guilt scattered all over me. the disappointments never fail to show themselves, like a stubborn ray of sunlight that penetrates the musky grey cloud in its way. as i said i was too happy before the pain started, short lived indeed.. but even now recalling i got 8 pirated vcds for RM20, over half spanking new unreleased movie titles, perhaps i exaggerate.. puts a silly little smile on my face. the food did not make it through the digestive system and had to go out where it went in, awful stuff that is really. i would not want to relive the memory of puking in my sleep. hell no. i shall do things on their own accord, headaches being the primary complication i have to attend to, everything else should fall right into place behind it. who am i kidding.. lol. .: 12:37:00 PM :. how do you classify a dream as sweet, mine certainly do not fit the word.. moreover they always have some sick surprise, a horrid scene or striking sentence. i am cured of that, self-cured if i may so graciously add. if insomniacs lie wide awake in bed, why not be wide awake doing something.. anything at all? staring at the ceiling does not help, particularly if you cannot see it to begin with. absence of monsters under my bed or in the closet add to the crawling seconds of dying brain activity. laughable is it not that my only worry during this period of time is the extravagant wastage of unscheduled weeks. and so i spent lotsa quality time with myself doing alternate tasks right up till 6am before knowing for sure i will have no problems with shut-eye the moment i curled up under my blankie. not unlike a creature with fur and paws, ever felt you resemble animal more than human.. i never fancied apes or monkeys or primates. amy of congo fame had nightmares about the home she departed from at a tender age, seeing visions of an eye. cursed with the gift of thought. to find a way around it, avoiding this intrusion of mindless sleep.. that one may lavish in nothingness and awake to a world full of devious deceit rejuvenated. so i snugged.. an omnivorous ball of flesh & bone, and slept like the dead for the next 6 hours. how do you like your sleep? ill have mine stirred yet untampered, warm to the effect of cooling, smooth with just the right amount of milk and sugar. condensed milk would be great. träum was schönes. indefinitely. .: 12:20:00 AM :. .: Dienstag, September 3 :. Lamb to the Slaughter "A lot of animals use their ears for balance. they have this cavity, and a little speck of dirt in it. then there are nerves lining it. wherever the speck is lying is presumed to be "down" because gravity will pull the speck down... so these scientists surgically removed the little speck of dirt, and replaced it with a small magnetic filing. it works just as the dirt did, gravity pulls it down, and wherever the speck is is presumed to be down... however, if, after inserting the little piece of metal, you hold a magnet over the animal's head, the magnetic filing will go to the top of the ear cavity, regardless of gravity... maybe you can see where I'm going with this so the animal will think it's upside down, and it will flip over. but after it flips over, the filing is STILL on the top of the cavity, so the animal will flip over again... and so since the filing will always oppose gravity, the poor animal will constantly flip over for days in a row if you don't remove the magnet." i asked for an astounding psychological fact and trade in for an amusing one instead. despite me finding it cruel above everything else. drew tells me psychology is more about biology. how the brain works. i dont really get it, but there are so many fields, its expected there ought to be just as many varying plantations. infinite. so many nights, so many more hours for living that parallel dimension in subconsciousness. it is getting worse.. because speech is becoming audible and faces recognizable. no longer does it fade but plays in a loop on my thoughts, like.. it wants me to remember. i will have to inform the star actor in my private play about this, people come up with bizarre methods of deciphering dreams, books dont tell you what you really want to know while burning a hole in your pocket. by word of mouth so many gain insight about the translation of their dreams. chinese especially have some restrictions about revealing bad dreams, with the believed assumption it will bring harmful incidents. like the time i gave a  pandora's box to my cousin brother, dreamt of his death and enthusiastically told him about it.. so the box was opened and undesired events came about. second person i see after having flashbacks from the after night, he wants me to accompany him to buy a mashimaro. hmm.. mooncake doesnt taste as bad as i recall it to. .: 12:52:00 AM :. .: Montag, September 2 :. it took approximately 3 full hours to download iomegas new zip-100 driver for xp, without DAP as an accomplice.. i always knew for a fact i had a lot of trash on the system, now it dawns on me what the trash is.. also that it was not trash. occupied sleep and lazing daylight, it must be incredibly pampered to live the life of a feline. just admiring the way a cat walks with hereditary elegance and poise.. or the effortless sprawls exposing the underside. the beautiful eyes and drop dead confidence, these remarkable creatures not only posess a fine physique but sharp, ever so alert minds as well. night vision and intelligence, the grace of a trained gymnast and relations to the gods/superstitions. i never liked them, because i could never achieve such a status. for sure i envy them, there are people who have these qualities -not to extremes of what i described of course- ah blessed are they who prevail catty. a beauty pageant is on the idiot box, and im an idiot for watching the box. ive got my sights set on the district of columbia. anyone care to have a lil wager with me on that? .: 8:31:00 AM :. .: Sonntag, September 1 :. beloved is finally home but brainwashed.. aww.. and the unsettling phonecall repeated itself. sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night just isnt my cup of tea anymore. who even proposes such an activity these days. the night was good for snuggling, dreams swam of you.. our roles reversed i was the careerwoman adult person and you were some sorta retard, except you pull it off so adorably. im still wondering if there was a wheelchair in the picture. it was a bleak scenario yet funny, i found myself kissing you on the cheek and persuading you to kiss me back, which you did :) it wasnt just the two of us, there was someone else in the room.. blurry.. bandurs dream haunts me still, when the matter of dreaming arises.. it was two years ago when he slept-thought my death, i didnt even know him well then; i was killed by someone close to the heart, unrequited love, jealousy, vengeance.. noone knows the reason. even spicier, it was a triangle. with me sitting in the middle. ouch. second day of bleeding. i receive an unrequested wake-up call and get swept off to a sunday potluck in Tasek. so-called potluck. very idiotically paid RM16 for a honeydew and watermelon. thanks to the unavailable ice cube supply in 7-11, we had to go hunt down the ice cube supplier in Simee village -kampung = village, right?- lin had us prepared to be fishmongers for a day. it is true what they say about too many cooks spoiling the broth. just two of them were more than enough to turn the kitchen upside down, mildly entertaining.. i did not want to argue so i kept quiet and did whatever there was to do. a lot of contemplation was made and applied into lunch. pasta to be exact. LoL. the attendance turned out to be rather few, three pretty girls present, including the hostess, out of the entire five people there to eat 2 whole chickens, pasta with beefy tomato paste, french fries, nuggets, and words. the nuggets were heart shaped, all of them and eva started a psycho home video/ sequential photo story which involved a representation of emotion (a.k.a. the chicken nugget) from before and after heart break. typing it doesnt do much justice to the hilarious acting, you just have to see it for yourself. apparently our failure to locate the missing persons the previous night was lossy on our behalf, a female of unknown race did some table top dancing with a lot of groping on top. oh well. it was a long long day and besides eating³ we had many meaningful verbal sessions, topics changed as they wished, varying from current job statuses, evolution from rural to urban environments, high school disciplinary adventures, strip joints and gay clubs, waxing in general, numerous genres of reading material, ann rice's vampires, wasabi=mustard?, the perils of witchcraft, aromatherapeutic prices, pubic hair, the addiction of sexual ecstacy and why you should remain a virgin, musicals and live performances by foreign artistes, Nostradamus' predictions of the future, god vs. satan... it wasnt so much catching up as random chit-chat. now it is time to sleep and hopefully not dream anything. .: 8:43:00 AM :. |
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