Apprehended (murderers); Exposed (sex videos); Snap Polls (politics); Dead (cartoons). In a matter of hours, the world is shaken up to yet another situation upon situation. I sometimes wonder if peace is the ultimate price of destruction, cos in a matter of hours, duty calls - to do something remotely possible but tangibly close.
Hiatus for the next 2 weeks, but gonna sneak back in here whenever I can.
When a specific emotion or line of thought keeps building, you know you've hit the jackpot: either you're going to achieve that cool goal or end up losing yourself. And that's all about being Polymeric.
Managed to get "People" done before I march back for ICT this end of the month. Strangely, I'm kinda looking forward to it. Perhaps cos I haven't been doing much, so heading back to being green feels kinda refreshing: a change of sceneries and environment altogether?
I felt so... COMMUNITY today. As the story goes right, mom had this party (AGAIN) right, with all her friends coming over to sing, play and dance right (I mean it - folk dance friends), and I was informed 4 or 5 friends would be here in the afternoon right. Then a whole bunch of 10 or 12 came right, so I had to help prepare the food right, and have to be like, watched by 10 or 12 housewives as I cook right, and they were like going, "Oh! How clever! Ah boy can cook some more! Help mommy some more! Not bad leh!"
Then, before long, my dad came home and he was like... WOAH! So he devised this brilliant plan of fetching my sis Anne as soon as my mom spoke to her on the phone and asked her to come over too. I looked at him and told him I wanted to get out! And he showed this pitiful expression as if I would cage him in instead. So right, I looked at him and asked if he wanted to get out from this party too right. He SMILED! OMGOMGOMG! Well, what can I say right? I let him go pick Anne lor.
Then right, I thought it be nice to inform my other sis about the party right, SMSed her that if she wanna avoid the aunties, she betta head home later right. She replied she knew about it and was heading home right, then not more than a few minutes after, she messaged me, "CHNG OF PLANS, COMIN BAC LATER. HEHE." I was like, OMGOMGOMG! And to think I thought she would share my woes right, but noOOooOOooOOooo!
So. While everyone was having a fabulous time, I decided to just have my share of dinner after all of them were done. Pitiful I tell ya, sitting in the dining hall gorging myself with food, stuck in an Auntie Party. Darn. Jean, I now fully understand why food is your best friend. ;)
Oh, I forgot to mention, my mom was kinda guilty I had to put up with all that housewife/motherly rants from her friends, she kept telling them I prepared this fabulous dish and that fantastic platter, which, sadly, got them more excited... To think she actually believed that was going to make me any happier~ NooOOooOOoooOo! The aunties started praising my cutlinery skills! OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!
Now. Imagine you in my shoes. Wouldn't you feel COMMUNITY too?
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In any case, I had to get my hair cut today before I head back to ICT, rushed all the way down to this salon which I kinda ran into previously for a pretty cool cut. But darn, the stylist I was looking for was off, so I had to settle for someone else. And guess what... I hate her cut! I feel so... COMMUNNITY! OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG!
Oh well. Cyberspacemen. Tag me if you empathise. Nightz.
When the world eloped with time, whatever was left, was left to fend for themselves. And all creatures big and small had to get used to the passing of their environment with the ticking seconds. All had to evolve or be intoxicated with extinction and end.
One man thought of a brilliant idea, and started to clock time. He did so for 2 purposes: one was to predict when his end would come, the second was to predict when everything else ends.
He had his way for a while, even though everything else became clear: everything ends, it's just a matter of when. With that, he regretted clocking time, and teaching others to do so. And as the world continues to run, he saw an unending predicament for the rest of the living - they would pursue death over the celebration of life. The mustangs went berserk in their exodus to suicide; lions populated into smaller numbers; insects of all kinds lived shorter lives; humans trived and began celebrating death.
Then, one little flower decided to reverse the effects of this single man's deeds by offering itself to the world. Figure it out.
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After all that incredulous tanning last week, I'm peeling badly due to the over-exposure. Not that I'm looking like some monster, just that, because of the way I reach for my back, I actually have a pair of wing's on it now. Cool eh! Sorry, no pictures, underqualified, uncool, and undersirably well enough to present my tanned lines.
So, I decided to smooth out the patches with a minor tan coming Friday hoping it will at least look not so obvious! For those who promised to hit the beach with me since eons ago, yeah right.
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Ran past the bakery today and saw a little boy holding his teddy, watching the storekeeper lining the shelves with hot toast. I bet he wasn't hungry, but just fascinated by the rows upon rows of bread.
When was the last time you had time to marvel at simple joys?
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This categories thingy on tblog is quite irritating. Can I just have a post that is UNCATEGORISED? All my posts since the upgrade has been like... MISCELLANEOUS? What is so MISCELLANEOUS about my rants? Am I being MISCELLANEOUS to talk about feelings and emotions? Or is it MISCELLANEOUS to discuss politics? Pardon my insolences - maybe that's MISCELLANEOUS.
Everyday, somebody dies for somebody else's mistakes; somebody makes use of someone else's kindness; somebody loses their composure and dies. Yet, amidst all these natural being, somebody still is unhappy, somebody still sad, even though they have acquired the vastness of wealth and luxuries in abundance...
In fact, I have not come across another content one... (paused for a good 2 minutes and I couldn't think of anyone still). Everybody is looking for something to make sense of their living, and every single one wants something.
So the QOTD (which I've not posted for a long time): What do you want?
And my personal QOTD: What do you want from me?
I used to have lots of friends to hang out with during school days, where we would often go somewhere making a fool of ourselves, right up to my enlistment. Back then, I was relatively cool, had lots to spend, and definitely some to waste on.
When I took on my first job at some prestigious company, I earned an honest living, had lots to spend, even more to waste on, but hardly had the time. Still, I had lots of friends I could hang out with, which was nice.
But as I began to go solo, freelance they would call, money was little, and I wanted to hang out with people more, I noticed (across a very generic spectrum), groupies become a bit weary of people who don't work under some company. I naturally fell into that category. Perhaps I was being overly sensitised towards the situation, but it felt like I was sometimes being avoided.
Then, when I owned some company, suddenly I had a lot of friends again.
And now that I don't own no company, don't do no work at any company, I don't hear from a lot of people no more. Even me asking them out for a cuppa I'm getting more rainchecks than ever.
So tell me, what's wrong with us all?
Last night I spent the midnight hours working on "People", felt absolutely compelled to finish it so I could actually post it somewhere and irritate the shit outta people. Alas, short of the proper gear, I couldn't get the bassline and vocals in, even now.
I resent being so highly rated and under-appreciated.
On a lighter note, it might be of interest to you that I am now on blogspot!
"some people believe in magic
some people believe in needs
some people believe that everything's a trick
but what if one day we both discover
that life itself in it, it's over?
no one's gonna cry you a river
what would life then be?
all the things that you might remember
all that hurts you cannot recover
no one's gonna cry you a river
what would life then be?
some people will give, some people receives
but nobody will stretch to forgive all too easily
some people will sleep, all through their dreams
never waking up, never stop to breathe,
opening their eyes while they keep on falling
some people believe in being tragic
some people so choose to leave
some people believed in you
and me
but what if one day we both discover
that life itself in it, it's over?
no one's gonna cry you a river
what would life then be?
all the things that you might remember
all that hurts you cannot recover
no one's gonna cry you a river
what would life then be?
and what if we never were lovers
would the picture ever get any clearer?
i ain't gonna cry you a river
what would life then mean?
some things weren't meant to endeavor
(and) the reasons start to blur altogether
who else's gonna cry you a river?
that is what life be"
Okay! So Jean flies back today~! But I'm pretty sure we'll be in touch often... cos her pictures are in my safekeep~! MUAHAHA!
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"But I talk to myself, no words not a sound, there's evil around, haunting me. But I comfort myself, my heart beating loud, like the world falling down, imprisons me"
Why is there such a need to explain?! I mean, there's no need to explain anymore when everything's settled in all nice and lousy for everyone. But nooOooOOoooo~! Some people just cannot let it pass, can they?
Somebody passed me the song "Wake Up" by Hill Duff, and oh man~! I'm a closet TeenPop Fan! Gasp! OMG!
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Beautiful and simple, that's how the world has become, yet, at the same time, it got ugly simply cos its simple and beautiful and those who don't have it wallow in not having it. So which category are you in? Pigeon holed.
My time at Sentosa yesterday, or technically, on Tuesday, was wonderful and horrendous at the same time - for one, the sun's good, clear skies and all, but stayed too long in it and now, all burnt from head to toe (save for my mid-sect covered by the trunks - deep tanlines man) and I'm running outta Aloe Vera gel! Darn!
Angel failed her driving test earlier on and, well, she's sad about it but with like a million people encouraging her and supporting her, I'm gettin very jealous. I didn't get that kinda support when I had mine!
As the story goes, I rushed to the center for my first test on a school day, and by the time I got there, I was tired out. Warmed up in my test vehicle and finally met the tester, finished my circuit and was about to make the roads when he said, "Did you see the stop line behind?"
Caught beyond caught man. I tried to pretend a little but I had to come clean eventually. When I got home and settled in for dinner, Mom was like, "So... how did it go?" and I just said, "Like that lor..." She went silent for a while before offering consolation and encouragement. Sis was teasing me a little about it, but eventually she poured her encouragements too. I mean, it's no big deal really, after all, it was my first attempt and I knew I would make some mistakes.
Nonetheless, I decided to head out after dinner - in dad's car! That's when he asked, quite fiercely, how I could drive without a license. I told him straight that I didn't say I didn't have one. He smiled and handed me the keys. Mom heard me heading out in the car and came running, screaming that I should not drive without a license. And after showing her mine, she started screaming at me for poking fun at her - truth was, she asked how it went, she didn't ask if I passed or failed! I'm innocent!
Still, was funny the way she spent the whole dinner consoling me yeah.
Yeah well, I got lucky I guess. But at the end of the day, when you're ready, you'll get it. That's it.
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So: what did you do for Valentine's Day? Saw all these couples going round town with bouquets, seemingly trying to upstage one another. Was funny how much money people spent for a little dinner, in a crowded restaurant charging double for the occassion, yet not get anything more special EXCEPT: a nicer table clothe.
Okay, tag board on the right for all your tags, the one on the left for Q&A. Answer the previous question and ask the next. Anyone can answer. Happy tagging. (",)
A deep-sea diver is twenty feet below sea level when he sees another guy with no scuba gear. He goes down another thirty feet, and the guy with no equipment stays with him. He takes out a waterproof chalkboard and writes, "How the hell can you stay down this deep without equipment?" The guy takes the chalkboard and writes, "You asshole, I'm drowning."
========================
Three explorers are captured by a tribe in the jungle. The chief is going to punish the intruders. He calls the first explorer to the front of the tribe and asks, "Death or Booka?!". Well the explorer doesn't want to die, so he opts for booka. The tribe starts screaming BOOKA! and dancing around. the chief then rips the explorer's pants off and screws him in the ass.
The chief calls the second explorer to the front and asks, "Death or Booka?!". Well not wanting to die either, he opts for booka. The tribe again starts screaming BOOKA! and dancing around. The chief rips the second guy's pants off and screws him in the ass.
The chief calls the third explorer to the front and asks, "Death or Booka?!". Well the third guy has a little more self respect and thinks death would be better than being violated in front of hundreds of tribesman, so he opts for death. The chief turns to the tribe and screams "DEATH BY BOOKA!"
Eh... nobody's taking my tags seriously man. Darn.
And look what I've gotten myself into - 5 songs to mix and I have today and tomorrow before I'm off to the beach on Tuesday, then submit on Wednesday. Man. Some things never change.
Someone said I look like, in one of my pictures, the late Leslie Chueng. Um... Thankz? Ha~! Tag me dude!
Gee. I think I really need to catch up on sleep now. Sweet dreamz cyberspacemen!
Okay. You pronounce it as "kneel", not "nelle", not "nail", not "nil", not "nal", nor "nellie". "KNEEL". "KNEEL". Everybody say now, "KNEEL".
This is so...
========================= ==
Okay. Kevin. I didn't quite do this cos it kept slipping outta my mind.
5 Random Weird Facts About Me:
1. Closet voyuer of bad accidents
2. Gardener in denial
3. Strong believer of Men from Mars, Women from Pluto
4. Manic fetish over smooth things, including butts (oops)
5. Steam makes me go bananas
Now, to up the stakes, 5 characters I adore most in secrecy and why:
1. Adolf Hitler - he's the coolest ass I've ever known
2. Aileen Wuornos - the serial killing prostitute with the biggest movie tribute
3. Ernie (Sesame Street) - the coolest airhead I grew up with
4. Neo - okay. I just like his outfits
5. Vincent van Gogh - he's got the balls to paint in complete poverty
So. Let's see who's got more perverse admirations than I:
1. I tag KEVIN T
2. I tag ERIC N
3. I tag ALICIA L
4. I tag LESLIE L
5. I tag SABRINA Y
6. I tag CHERISSE B
7. I tag HH
8. I tag KALVERT
9. I tag all else who reads this MUAHAHA (oh please hit me on the chatterbox with your blogsite)
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So tomorrow's Beach date is cancelled unceremoniously with my darlings' packed schedules. I kinda doubt tomorrow's weather will hold up also since it's been raining intermittenly for the whole of today.
Still, I got to get back out in the sun soon or I'm turning back into the sick looking... THING.
I was crawling around the web for an explanation to luck, but seems like few attempted to look into a subject that can neither be explained rationally or scientifically. Not to mention, nobody took the subject as a subject in itself.
The best I could manage was an analysis on why people believe in luck and what they do to try change it. An interesting find was the things that people take in stride to receive or expel its effects. What I did find useful was a phrase - luck as a phenomena that people choose to use as an explanation to an occurence that overcedes responsibilities.
=======================
Ten years ago a teenage boy got involved in a street-gang fight that had him end up in with 2 slash wounds and multiple open wounds. One of the slash wounds got a major artery vein that caused him to bleed profusely, and too quickly.
By the time he was sent to the hospital, the boy was in a daze and could hardly stay sober to answer any questions, let alone identify himself. Inside, he feared for the worse - would he survive and live to see the people he loved, do things he loved, think things he loved, and busk in the sun and laze as he loved?
The bed they put him on had a PVC sheet over it to keep it clean, so the blood started making for the sides, and dripped along as they pushed him into the operating room. There, somebody pressed hard on the bust vein while someone else turned on some machines and everyone else rushed around doing something that would help save his life at this very critical moment. As someone shone a torch into his eyes, he heard a voice for his name. He tried to say something, but then he thought, might as well go.
To begin with, dad left when he was young, and mom had a hard time putting food on the table and sending 3 kids to school. Gramps had passed on long time back, and grandma needs extensive care. Girlfriend got a new guy only the day before, and he looked set to flop college because of the multiple jobs he had to help with the household's income.
And on the operating table, he decided to leave things be. Why bother being stiched up and chalk up more bills and further burden anyone? And being a teenager, for all the love he showered his girl, now that she's gone, life was really not worth the living.
So he let things be. He didn't hope to die, neither did he hope to live.
Everyone else in the room were hurrying to stop the bleeding and stich him up and and give him blood and save his life. As he gradually slips into subconsciousness, the voices he heard began to fade. And then it was all dark, for the boy.
As it happened, some machine blipped and someone lamented that the boy was losing it. Then someone took some electronic thing and said, "clear!" and pressed it against his chest. Some machine blipped again and the boy came round a bit, and lost consciousness again. Then someone pressed his chest again. And this went on for a while.
As his mom received news a few miles away from the hospital, she got changed and instructed her other kids to stay in. She got into the patrol car and was on her way to the hospital. In her mind, neither she nor her kids will give up. Nobody will give up - she was determined to have him come round despite how bad she was told of the situation. She wanted to pray too, but to whom? Who would help her now? Other than the good officer driving her and the other good medical workers working on her son, who else could help her?
=======================
I was tucking myself into bed last night when I realised how soft this particular toy given to me on my birthday was. I hugged and squeezed it to sleep, and just kinda remembered how nice its been to be hugged to sleep by mommy when I was a kid. I used to crawl under the sheets between mom and pops just so that I can snuggle in between, though I think I wet the bed a couple of times too.
Yesterday afternoon was kinda cool too. i stood by the kitchen window and just looked out - saw this really sunny day scene where trees cast strong shadows on the ground. There were constant breezes that blew through the outside, and shook the leaves left and right. And then I remembered spending days in Grandma's house, looking out the kitchen windows in the afternoons, watching the plants and trees in the garden swaying in the winds, and casting stong shadows.
Oh, grandma was a huge coffee fan, so day start till end there would be this aroma hanging round the house. And that made the sunny afternoons even more, remembered. And there used to be this huge open space behind the house where tall grass just grew wild, and the slight heat from the afternoon sun and the coolness of the breeze and the aroma of the coffee and the sounds of the rustling grass are...tender.
I hope grandma is watching me now. Cos I'm in so much pain.
But, who would help?
=======================
So suddenly, Foreigner's "I Wanna Know What Love Is" comes to mind.
Outside the operating room was the officer who helped send the boy to the hospital. As he gathered all the boy's articles into a little bag, someone at the counter asked if he was okay and if he needed a drink. The officer paused for a minute before thanking for the kind offer, and handed the bag over to her for safekeep, and made for the exit. He saw the boy being slashed, and could not give chase because the boy was hurt bad.
On the way out, the thought of the boy struggling on the operating table flooded his mind, and he stopped, then turned back to hang around for a while.
In the operating room, the boy was struggling. Not fighting to live, nor trying to give up. Although everyone else in the room wanted to do their best to fix him, he just stayed blank in the head. Minutes ticked and he began to lose his feelings, of his legs, hands, neck... even his head, or eyes, or mouth, and the thoughts of mom, sis and baby brother. The rest knew it, and half an hour into the operation, they knew he wasn't gonna pull thru.
The boy's mom arrived just as the first staff walked out of the operating room to get some stuff, and explained that they were trying their best to do their bits to save the boy to her. The mom held firm and thanked that person, and went to the bench just outside to wait for news. The officer who brought the boy in introduced himself, and offered comfort. She held firm, and offered a grateful smile. And they both waited. Much like the boy, he waited to find out if it's earth, heaven, or hell.
As time wore on, more staff got in and out of the room, sometimes with small equipment, sometimes empty-handed, sometimes stopping to give instructions or update the mom, but nobody seemed to want to give up. The mom held on. The officer looked on and felt stronger by the minute, offering comfort and encouragement as someone got in or out of the doors.
Then the strangest thing happened - someone with a slightly blood-stained shirt and jeans and sneakers approached the mom. He introduced himself, and said he should have been the one in there, but when the attack occurred, he ducked behind the boy, and got the boy in harm's way instead. As police arrived and the attackers ran, he ran too, but saw the boy eventually put in the hospital's ambulance. He walked to the hospital to see if the boy was okay, and figured she was mom. And he said sorry.
The officer stood up, was about to pull out his cuffs, but decided not to, for he admired this chap's courage. But he eventually told the chap that he would be needed for investigation. The mom looked at him, and said nothing. Then she held out to his hand, and sat him down beside her. She said if he was there to wait, then they shall wait together.
And that made the chap cry.
And the mom's sister arrived with her husband after getting the news from the other kids. Everyone waited for news. But as time wore on, their confidence and optimism dwindled. But the mom held on, refusing to think of the worse.
Then somebody came out of the operating room and told the mom that she should get in and see her son one last time. She got up, forcing back tears, and walked in bravely to hold her son's hands. By then, someone else had removed the mask they had on the boy for the last couple of hours, and the mom leaned forward and said hi. The boy forced his eyes opened, tears flowed out, and he said sorry. The mom held firm, squeezed his hands and said it wasn't his fault. The boy then said that he loved her, and that everything happens for a reason. And in his dying breadth, said he loved mom very much, and sis, and baby brother.
As the boy breathed his last, the mom felt his hold soften, and then go cold.
I'm sorry that the boy couldn't survive. I'm sorry too. For it would have been nice if he did. Wouldn't it.
Some welfare organisations helped with the hospital bills and the simple funeral. The mom held firm, and moved on with her remaining children. She held firm because they needed her.
And the funeral was simple, but many people showed up. Those who knew the boy and ever talked to the boy had all praises and no ill-feelings toward him. And the family was glad that the boy had been good. They all promised to be just as good.
The police officer who sent the boy to the hospital brought the chap in. By then, he was remorseful, and decided to help with the investigation. He remembered the boy clearly for the boy was the one who gave that last coin he had in his pocket so that the chap could make a phone call a long time ago, to the gangster leader to look for a job as a drug peddler, which made him very rich. And the chap's hunger for success saw him rise in ranks in the drug ring, and became someone important. But because he was too good, everyone else were jealous and wanted him dead. So that fateful night, he was hunted like an animal, and got the boy killed by accident.
So the chap helped with the investigations, and over 2 years, successfully helped the city police to destroy the drug trade that was so rampant in the city. And all along, he would visit the family, gave them some money, and helped with the house repairs, the gardens, and even the Christmas dinners. And all these times, he knew he might be killed by people trying to stop him from telling, anytime. But he was never hurt, though he came close.
And the boy's sister finished high school and then college, went to university and got a part time job as a lawyer's assistant with a pretty good pay. And the boy's baby brother got into a good college doing his favourite subjects. And both of them did so in a drug-free city that stayed so ever since. Even ten years after.
The chap stayed with the family ever since, providing assistance whenever he could. Mom held firm, and she finally knew who would help.
And she knew that everything happens for a reason.
It's fun cos, only in this instance of a state of half-soberness that I sometimes write the most ridiculous comments, amidst all that grammar and spelling mistakes!
Well truth is, I am only half sober and awake, which makes it double difficult to post something convincing, even if it means checking through the dictionary and thesaurus for the best choice of words for expressions.
And I thought I was good~! Eeeeh~! Wrong~!
So here I am, rattling away about rattling away with absolutely no idea what comes next, except that meeting this somewhat pesky beijing citizen earlier on made me realised how loneliness turns a person into a monster of sorts - an alien somewhat, and completely ignorant about the being anymore.
4 years in almost total loner-state would probably signal a self-masturbating gratification of company. It's terribly, well at least to me, to be lonely. I'm just one of those totally social animals who cannot live without. Yet strangely, I hate to be in a crowd, and I prefer to be alone. BUT job and choices don't quite allow that, so yeah. You adept. You go figure. You make an ass outta yourself and say, yeah well, I tried.
And so I try.
See! Get high and a verbal diarrhea comes along. How cool. I can't imagine when I type with an org - all wonderful fireworks get loose! Ha~
Anyways, here's a little message to my new found friend - you have a good soul, but that don't make you no star, except a fool in a world of make-believes. I hope you make it too, but hey, sometimes we're better off being the fans than the stars.
We're all stars. Depends if you mean more to yourself or to the stranger you met along the street.
Madonna had this fabulous video that I just thought about ever since I first saw it - the great open desert roads, dancing, enjoying the breeze... what a rush~!
I'm just sitting here sipping wine, thinking out loud what's next really. It's not so exciting planning where to chill next, especially when company dwindles with expectations. To further ruin the perfect day out, the unexpected responses gets daunting.
I think I've been overboard with my late nights and supper and chill out and all things nice - been missing out on news, updates and the appropriate routines. I gotta put things back in the correct perspective before winding back to long sleep catch-ups.
And this is after - from two weeks before the new year - preps on top of preps and spring cleaning, the IPPT preps and the test itself, the visits, the running around and topping-ups on necessities (as they were needed), then the whole dinner thing, right up till tonight, my first good supper and my body hurts like mad... I'm beat.
This shower will be nice... and poof.
======================
And pring~!
Was just thinking about some of the best things in life and I kinda came up with 2:
1. Sambal: make an interesting chilli mix and you'd probably have the winning formula for a successful meal or restaurant business - add it to stingray, you get sambal stingray; add it to sotong, you get sambal sotong; add it to kangkong, you get sambal kangkong - it's basically sambal-anything-you-want! Isn't that amazing? There's at least 10 different ways of cooking with sambal that I can remember off-hand and that I've tried, and I suspect there would be a few times more. One single flavor that works for all. Outstanding.
2. Fart: intentional or not, done appropriately in a crowd will always draw laughter, regardless of person, place or time. Fart in a conversation, the inert desire to laugh would be suppressed, yet released later; fart in a lift (and if it stinks real bad) would draw some giggles and gaffles before the explosion; fart as you stroll down the street - woohoo~ and that's the winner - instant joke-of-the-year. Isn't this amazing too? A simple action that would almost without fail create an embarrassment instantaneously as well as tickle the funny bones. One act that works for all occassions. Excellent.
======================
I haven't been writing lately, even though the timeline set to reach my quota is drawing near. But I guess it's just one of those things that really eats into the soul and starts a horrendous reverse reaction of convulsion - compulsive reflective disorder.
And to make things slower, I've got a new keyboard (courtesy of Angel and granted by my birth) that I'm dying to use, but can't due to the pressure to do something on it. It's like, I stare at it everyday and the keys just scream, "PLAY WITH ME!"
If only I have a sex slave that says the same.
Anyhow, I think writing to me is still very much a sacred activity: I won't write anything useful if asked to; I won't write anything beautiful if tasked to. The only time I write is when I hate to write it most. Maybe that's just me, but squeeze me for a sheet is as good as squeezing milk outta um... a volleyball? <-- woah where did that come from? >
Well I'm beat. So I think I'm gonna beat it. Before mom comes in and beat the crap outta me for not sleeping when I'm beat. And then nobody sleeps much and feels beat. Again.
Now I'm beating it, so that I won't be beat or get beaten. Yeah. What am I saying? Beats me.
I was writing this incredibly enjoyable entry when Safari crashed into a rock concert that Photobucket kinda kicked up~! Argh~! I lost that post... kapoop... zip... nada~
The only thing I remember was that cruel joke about a rice cooker~! Ha... Still cracks me up! Whatever's the case, better than none:
One thing I've noticed about me finally, is that I suck at goodbyes - be it saying it or meaning it, I just can't pull it off.
Which raises the question of how I look at things when it ends - bitter cold or cherry sweet. Then again, if I cannot define the actuality of going apart, being seperated, or see you next tme, then there's really no point talking about it in the first place.
Common sense could be derived from the above - I'm just saying I'm not good at it. But psychological analysis would mean I can't let things go. The categories therefore grows far and wide and encompasses a whole expense of theories and thesises. It can even reach the distance of prophecies and deciferies.
Hell. All I'm saying is, I would love to be where I am.
I think tblog's fixed the time, but heck: blogged 3rd Feb 06, 3:33AM, Friday, 2326 hits.
Let's start with part 2 of helping a stranger: Yup. I took the bait - sent $XX to this stranger while I pondered, immediately, why I was doing this in the first place. As the story goes, he's overseas on a cosmetic op, and kinda screwed up the budgetting. Now he's stranded with minimal day-to-day spendings so he's hoping to get some help.
Do you buy this?
I guess he's there on a private trip which his family and friends do not know about. Guess he's pretty much on his own. Oh well. I suckered. He sent over 50 SOSs and only 2 took it seriously. I was one of them. Well. I concur yet again - I'm half as smart after removing 2 of 4 wisdoms.
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Popped by Harry's at Boat Quay earlier on and finally caught gammy in the most stylish hairdo yet! She's so pretty! Woohoo~!
That me + gammy + angel! That's what glam's about man!
No tries, no fries~!
Um... weirdoes in da house~!
A couple more pictures in the Friendster photo albums. Check it out if you like!
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I'm not too sure what's going with some people of late, but I think they should put things into perspective through effective communication. Sorry, but I don't have all the answers.
Blogged 4:37AM, 2 Feb 06, Thursday, 2177 visits since.
Apprehended (murderers); Exposed (sex videos); Snap Polls (politics); Dead (cartoons). In a matter of hours, the world is shaken up to yet another situation upon situation. I sometimes wonder if peace is the ultimate price of destruction, cos in a matter of hours, duty calls - to do something remotely possible but tangibly close.
