looooooooo

I'm dying of boredom. I'm dying of boredom.

I'm depressed. And anxious. And wondering why he can't ever, ever, ever, ever say 'no'.

I'm waiting for the minutes to pass by, I'm bidding my time. Waiting to go off. Waiting to go home. To find solace under the covers, on my bed, my comfy mattress. And dream the dreams that will never come true.

Ah, I long to be anywhere else but here. Right now, this time, right now.

I'm bored.

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bahasa indah: versi orang cantik

1. Bekas kekasih saya adalah :
Seekor anjing. Anjing yang dadanya penuh berbulu. Sememangnya dia adalah pukimak yang paling besar di dalam dunia ini dan namanya ialah... oh ya. Anjing tidak memerlukan nama. Anjing yang tidak tahu berdisplin hanya perlu ditendang.

2. Saya sedang mendengar :
Bunyi penghawa dingin di ofis. Sungguh dingin, sehinggakan saya perlu membungkuskan diri dengan kain selimut berbulu sintetik.

3. Mungkin saya patut:
Mati sahaja. Ataupun, menjadi bidadari cinta. Barangkali saya perlu berbaring-baring di atas lantai sambil berguling-guling menunjukkan tanda tidak berpuas hati dengan kehidupan saya.

4. Saya suka :
(Kote besar.) Wangi-wangian berbaukan buah-buah seperti ceri, epal dan anggur. Ramza Beoulve, watak protagonis Final Fantasy Tactics yang akan saya mengahwini satu hari nanti.

5.Sahabat-sahabat baik saya :
Adalah haiwan-haiwan pelik yang akan kerap bergelak-ketawa bersama saya.

6.Saya tak paham :
Kenapa perlunya bulu ketiak, sesuatu fenomena yang tidak ada kegunaan dalam hidup lagi menjijikkan.

7.Saya kehilangan :
Impian untuk mencampak pisang tanduk kepada David Archuletta kerana tidak berpeluang untuk menghadiri konsertnya. Saya juga pernah hilang seluar dalam semasa aktiviti jamboree pengakap di Sarawak pada sembilan tahun yang lepas.

8.Ramai yang berkata :
Saya terlalu pelik. Biarkanlah mereka. Mereka yang terlalu normal sampai membosankan sebenarnya.

9.Makna nama saya :
Ayu lagi cantik. Ya, memang pun saya cantik.

10.Cinta itu adalah:
Penipuan semata-mata.

11.Di suatu tempat, seseorang sedang :
Merana akibat sakit cirit-birit yang terlampau amat.

12.Saya akan cuba :
Untuk menjadi impian untuk seluruh dunia.

13.Ayat SELAMANYA membawa maksud :
Sampai mati.

14.Telefon bimbit saya :
Tidak berbau kentut.

15.Bila saya terjaga dari tidur :
Saya sudah berbogel.

16.Saya paling meluat apabila :
Ternampak tahi kucing di tepi jalan. Dan yang sewaktu dengannya.

17.Pesta/Parti adalah :
Aktiviti jamuan makan yang wajib dihidangkan cola, piza dan ubi kentang.

18.Haiwan yang paling comel yang saya pernah temui ialah :
Tapir.

19.Peringkat umur yang paling menyeronokkan bagi saya ialah :
Saya pernah berseronok ke?

20.Hari ini :
Saya telah cirit-birit di tandas ofis setelah meminum beberapa teguk kopi Starbucks.

21.Malam ini saya akan :
Melancap sambil memikirkan adegan-adegan lucah.

22.Esok pula saya akan :
Menjadi lebih cantik, buah-buah dada juga akan kian membesar.

23.Saya betul-betul inginkan :
(Kote besar.) Ilmu hitam.

24.Ketika anda lihat wajah anda di hadapan cermin pagi ini :
Oh. Saya masih menyerupai diri saya.

25.Pusat membeli-belah atau arked permainan :
Adalah tempat di mana tempat-tempat meletak kereta sangat susah untuk dicari pada hujung minggu.

26.Makanan Barat atau Jepun :
Jepun.

27.Bilik yang terang atau gelap :
Gelap. Menjimat elektrik dan bil elektrik dengan tidak memasang lampu.

28.Makanan segera adalah :
Sedap kalau dimakan sekali-kala.

29.Ayat terakhir yang anda katakan pada seseorang?
Fuck. (Fuck tetap fuck dimana-mana di dunia.)

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AAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

"My shot is faster. Or my name's not Balthier."

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Balthier is just too dreamy. And that voice!! Oh, that voice!! I WISH TO BE SEDUCED BY THAT VOICE.

I am wobbling. Wobbling wobbling teeter-tottering on my seat.

Can I faint? Can I swoon?

I'm swwwwooooniiinnnggggg.

BALTHIER!!!!!!!!!!!

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my love ramza 2

AAAAHHHHH!!!!

I just realised. That there's been an updated version of the Final Fantasy Tactics game - Final Fantasy Tactics: Shishi Senso. And this time, with the addition of two unlockable secret characters, there are cel-shaded cutscenes to replace the previous cutscenes featuring super-deformed characters.

NOOOO!!!!!!

I don't have a PSP!!!!!!!

RAMZAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

AND GAFGARION!!!!!!!

AND ALGUS!!!!!!!

I hate Delita. He's a baddie who took all the credit and became king.

Ah, why can't I have a boyfriend who is as gentle as Ramza? And so... so boyish. And cute. And noble. And straight as an arrow.

I will go to battle with him!

For the peace and sanctity of Ivalice!

I want to marry Ramza.

DAMMIT!!!!!!

I'm going to listen to this and cry.

Anyway, there's going to be a Final Fantasy Tactics Advance 2 game. But I couldn't care less. I played FFTA and didn't like it all that much. No other FF game has a story as deep as FFT's. Nevermind that the ending was just so out of the world and sucky. All FF games' storylines are like that.

Oh, Ramza! Wherefore art thou?

I think I know who I'll be cosplaying this year.

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my love ramza

Oh god!!! Adrenaline rush!!!!!

I LOVE RAMZA BEOLVE.

I've always loved him since the first time I picked up the Final Fantasy Tactics game for the Sony PlayStation.

Well.. actually no. I thought it was a strange game with super-deformed characters without mouths and noses, their feet shuffling and arms swinging as they stood on 'squares' that make up the game's terrain.

More of a strategy RPG than an actual action-based RPG, the storyline was what drew me to loving the game. That, and of course, the protagonist, Ramza.

RAMZA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My heart beats in excitement everytime I listen to the first attack song.

You can listen to it here here.

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the love

I love cherries. Not maraschino cherries, just cherries of the fresh variety.

I got myself a tub of The Body Shop's body butter in that scent and it smells gorgeous. I ought to get the body gel next. It's divine.

Nothing perks me up more than a little pick me up - in which case, it is the pampering of thy self. A slather of something wonderfully scented always works some magic on me when I'm feeling down. So be it a foot care cream or a mud mask, the little things I do for myself to show that I care for myself is an important factor that keeps my well-being up. It just won't do to be stinky and stuff.

And I love The Body Shop's products.

But that's just me, with my somewhat bourgeois tastes.

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red and purple lipsticks

"She wants to touch me, woo ooh,
She wants to love me, woo ooh,
She'll never leave me, woo ooh, woo ooh, ooh ooh,
Don't trust a ho, never trust a ho,
Won't trust a ho 'cause the ho won't trust me. - Don't Trust Me, 3OH!3

Hold me close tonight and discard me when the morning comes.

Boku ni wa kiseki ga mienai.
(I do not see miracles.)

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what does thine heart tell thee?

The (modern, technology-savvy) Indian astrologer from Little India in Penang told me that I will constantly be in a state of indecisiveness until I hit 30.

I dare not say how true his predictions are but indecisiveness has always been a central part of me for as long as I can remember. And this plagues me.

I wonder if it stems in part from my longstanding love-hate relationship with my basketful of insecurities.

A friend and I shared a 'joke' last night of one-stop centres (OSCs) and the manual roundabout way of local council bureaucracies, following yesterday's pointless assignment - a press conference (more like a two-minute announcement) on how local councils in the state are looking at improving the OSCs public delivery system without even letting reporters know how they plan on going about in achieving that (ah, I hate Ronnie Liu).

The gist of the conversation was that maybe, in the context of guys and girls and SEX, guys would rather visit 'OSCs' than to waste their time dealing with 'bureaucracies' the traditional way with all the red tape, the excuses, delays, etc.

This whole conversation was the result of a much prior conversation (bitching and gossiping, actually) of two girls we know who have a knack of getting themselves into scandalous situations with absolutely dodgy characters.

Anyway, guess which category of girls I fall into. (Hint, not the first one.)

Well, yeah, I'm going about this in a roundabout way as usual but the point I'm trying to make is that my indecisiveness (coupled with my insecurities) is the current stumbling block in making certain... things... happen.

I guess it's suffice to say that maybe it's something of a good thing, considering the kind of trouble an ignoramus like myself tends to fall into but. But but but but. I can't be this way forever.

Oh, bleeding heart! (O! Happy dagger!)

What is it that I feel in my heart?

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i saw a birdy

There used to be a time when I'd look at my face in the mirror - and I didn't like the face that was looking back at me.

There also used to be a time when it seemed as if love will only happen to you, if you happen to be a beauty queen. Oh yes, it did seem that way. The girls with the flawless skin, the shiny hair and the dangerous cleavage seemed to have that. That lurve thing. Never mind that their relationships were always short-lived and that it seemed that they were trading boyfriends among their circle of just-as-pretty girlfriends.

These days, I don't mind the girl I see in the mirror. She's a bit chunkier now, with a bit of a belly that sticks out. But those are just signs saying that she's curvier now and has a wonderful relationship with her food. The pimples have mostly gone, though left are the scars from the times spent picking on painful pustules. But I don't mind them so much. Because now I can see that within the skin of my 'self', lies an emerging entity that can be just as beautiful as the girls who are pretty on the outside.

And love? I don't think I am experiencing love just yet but surely, these affectionate feelings coming my way must be a way of telling me that I have grown to become... maybe a beauty queen? Nah, perhaps not. It just means that I am not THAT lame anymore. And that there are people out there who will cherish me with my flaws and all.

When you love me, that is when I shall truly become beautiful.

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oh wow, i'm sick

I've been eating my meals. OK, some days later than others, I admit, but fact is, I haven't been skipping meals or trying to go about dieting and shit. So I don't understand how and why I got the gastric attack yesterday.

And so, I am off today. Had a great long sleep. Ate strawberries and am going to have salad and pasta for lunch instead of the usual nasi campur or kopitiam variety. Now I'm doing my e-filing for my income tax payment and then I'll have to go to a clinic to get an MC although I don't feel like it.

Heck, I've got my bottle of Alucid (the anti-flatulent sort!) and that works just fine. It's not like I'm going to get some really good medication at the clinic anyway. They'll just chuck me some self-diluted, generic stuff and the usual packet of Paracetamol just so they can claim more from my company.

Oh. Last night I went to catch this movie Make That Happen, one of those forgettable girl with dreams of becoming a dancer types with plenty of dance routines, with Nadirah and her new friend, some traffic announcer called Mo Nasrul from fly.fm. He was cool. The movie was cool. Until the really unrealistic part where Lady Gaga's Just Dance came on, purportedly the genius creation of this lame club music director in the story. Huh.

I think I need to get out on more dates. Why? I'm not going out enough? No, I don't think so. I just need to... meet new people. Make life more interesting. Have more stuff to bitch about. Yeah. That sounds just about right.

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points to ponder

Kangkongkangkongkangkongkangkong.

Am I a sweet girl?
Do people find sweet girls amusing?
Is it good to be a sweet girl?
Am I? Am I? Am I?

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my little tapir

Oh! I am so happy I could just roll around on the floor to express my utter delight!

I AM! Going to the Sg Dusun Wildlife Reserve in Melaka next week to see my darlings, the tapirs, porcupines and the slow loris (kongkang in Malay). YEAY!!!!!

The director of Selangor's Perhilitan gave his OK and all I need is for the centre's director to say OK too. And then it's off to see the tapirs! YEAY!!!!!

I wonder if they'll let me pet the tapir? I wonder if they'll let me hug the tapir? I am going to take plenty of pictures and record the tapirs so I can let everyone hear the sounds they make.

I am happy.

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no title

I'm confused.

You say you don't want to be a third wheel, yet you say that I neglected you. That I ditched you. Was the first part your PR answer?

And I should let you know that I never ever said to a single soul that you were interfering in my then budding friendship with your colleague and friend.

In fact, I really have no idea why you are shunning me. You told a mutual friend that you felt left out because me and your drinking buddy were doing things without you. My reasoning is this: People just don't bring a third person out on dates. It may make us uncomfortable. It may make you uncomfortable. We didn't want you to feel 'left out' as the third wheel. And most importantly, don't you think it's healthier for two people to explore a relationship on their own without the aid of a mediator?

If we had planned a party and invited a bunch of people but purposely forgot to invite you, yes, I believe you have every right to accuse me of neglecting you. If I had ceased all form of communication with you for an entire month just to go out with this new guy then you, I believe you have every right to accuse me of neglecting you.

Unfortunately, let me remind you that we never held a party without you. We only went on dates meant for two people, which I believe is the norm anywhere else in the world. (And if we had wanted to double date, we would have definitely invited you and your police dude along. Unfortunately, neither of us are into double dates so that never happened.) Also, you confided in our mutual friend that I'd been neglecting you THREE days after we had hung out with you for a karaoke session. Wow. If it takes such a short time for you to feel neglected, you must be a pretty insecure person. I never really pegged you for one.

So now you're so ticked off at me you don't even want to remain anywhere within a five-foot radius of where I stand.

Rather than you, I think it should be me who's supposed to be ticked off.

I consider you a good friend, and I'm pretty sure you did the same despite bossing me around to drive you to places and sorts, and I expected that you would tell me what I had done to wrong you instead of deciding to give me the cold treatment by starting with ditching me for dinner on my birthday, of all days.

How can I apologise when I have no idea what I did wrong? And I have called you and texted you numerous times. I even apologised without knowing why I needed to. Yet you ignored me. Even when our friend's dad died, you totally chose to ignore my calls and texts when all I wanted to ask of you is for us to put our troubles away for a bit so we can both be there for our friend in need. Are you that petty a person?

I did finally get a reply from you. You said you were having a personal problem and you admitted that you were avoiding me. You added that you will keep in touch with me soon.

I never answered to that. What do you answer to a text like that anyway? Sure? Take your time?

And it's been three months now.

And you're ignoring only me, not the guy.

Don't forget, you were the one who persuaded me to try my luck with him. I am, of course, thankful for your generousity. Usually you'd be the one to hog the guys all to yourself despite having a marriage candidate in tow.

Maybe things would have been different if the guy had decided to peg me for a loony and nothing came out of our dates. You'd be free to hog him all to yourself and treat him as your maid-friend. You'd also be free to have me at your beck and call, right?

But I'm sorry lady. I'm not your boyfriend and he isn't too. So all you have now is that police dude and all the other male floozies who'd love to sleep with you to manipulate and treat as dogs.

Tough luck.

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ponderings

There are rare moments in my life, being the ultimate champion whiner, when I actually feel blessed. Today is one of those rare days.

I feel blessed for having friends who can laugh with me (and sometimes, at me) and not give me strange looks for the odd jokes I have a penchant for cracking. I feel especially blessed for the new friends I have recently made, and revisiting and strenghtening a what had become a waning friendship over a few years with a university mate.

The latter is Ross. Computer geek and previously, a major weirdo in the student newsroom. A (now ex-)girlfriend and working life had changed him and sometimes we hang out for sushi and ponder about how it will feel like to bite into a huge chunk of raw salmon. Do other people wonder about that? (And of course, we also ponder about other things. Like exploding toilets and sorts.)

And in the former group, there is a friend whose acquaintance I had always wanted to make since I met him at an assignment over a year ago. I never had the chance, I don't know why, but recent circumstances has led to a friendship that is suffice to say, unique.

We must be two very different people but he laughs at my jokes. He laughs at me often. I launch into a ranting tirade at him for throwing plastic rubbish into the glass bin. Actually, I rant at him every single day. But he's still hanging around. Sometimes in the background, sometimes in the foreground. And I find his presence very endearing.

Sometimes I am in awe of this friendship that we have. (By the way, is it friendship that we have? I don't want to make the embarrassing mistake of assuming one thing when the other person clearly does not see it the same way - the mistake that big-breasted friend of ours made, yeah?) It makes me go: "Why are you friends with me, again?"

It is a question that I have asked many friends as many of them are, truth be told, nothing like me at all.

Like Fatie. The ex-gangster girl turned government bitch. She's sweet, sometimes naive, cranky on PMS days and now when I call her, the first thing I ask is: "Fatie, are you having sex?" just to bug her. And she laughs at my jokes.

Or Eubs. Self-proclaimed gigolo and most horniest person I know. He's a nag sometimes and he has this no-nonsense attitude when it comes to stupid people (and you know how the world is so populated with stupid people, don't you?), lazy people, whiny people (which includes me), etc. Basically, he's the guy you don't want to mess with unless you want to get an earful of insults but he's alright. Calls me 'princess' and he doesn't really laugh at my jokes but goes: "Bangang."

Or Kalbana. Major party girl with a heart of gold. Biggest procrastinator in the world and very generous with hugs. The only problem is that she has no concept of time at all. (Please, get a watch.) Not just that, she has this set of friends who are always caught up in some Bollywood-style brawl over pointless things like girls, booze, who-has-the-cooler-gang kind of shit and stuff. And for some reason, her friends (and even herself) have a habit of getting into motor accidents. God knows how often she goes visiting at the hospital. Or, the police station. And she laughs at my jokes too.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that laughter is what bridges a friendship. A 'friendship' without laughter isn't really friendship at all. Like how it is with a lot of my colleagues, the people that I meet on assignment, the man on the street. Those are not friendships. Maybe acquaintances. Maybe work contacts. People I'll forget after a bit.

And the best friendships I have is with those who find my off jokes funny. Who can follow my lead by adding more funny imagery to the disturbingly strange joke of the mayor and his fictitious kambing Kassim. And plot with me about kidnapping a hated colleague, tie him up naked to a lamp post, spreading a generous helping of Dunlop glue on his chest hair and then sticking a big, live rat onto it. Or the great impress-your-dad Valentine's Day plan of having the guy you like appearing in front of your door, all bundled up in a rice sack with a ribbon tied round the neck? Remember that, Elayni? (I know you were way mortified that I just came up with the idea in front of your friends, but they laughed too.)

God. I'll always stay this way. Nothing will ever beat toilet exploding jokes.

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motoring days

What women really think. I think.
By Shamsul Yunos
05/09/2007

I had an engaging discussion with a young lady about cars today. We were test driving the Hyundai Santa Fe Diesel and she started off by asking me what the difference is between diesel and petrol cars.

Obviously, I figured that the explanation should begin with the absolute basics. She is not what you would describe as car savvy but she confessed to a certain love of classic motors and anyone who likes oily MGs counts as a good person in my books, so we got on quite well.

On a drive to Kuantan, three of us were in the car, the young lady, a journalist from a well known localised international title, Danny, and myself. We started talking about what kinds of cars she liked and she listed the Nissan Murano and March as possible chart toppers, but her hot favourite was the Suzuki Swift.

The two men in the car nodded in agreement, for the Swift is a good car and universally acclaimed both on Venus and Mars.

Then Danny asked her what car she thought looked good on men, and she first gave the politically-correct answer: "Any car is fine as long as it is not in the habit of threatening to abandon me by the roadside".

Danny rephrased the question for clarity and she said that she thought a guy, her age (in the low mid 20s) would be dapper in a Toyota Vios.

Now that was an answer that floored me. I mean, the Vios is as close you can get to a John Doe of a car without actually having a toe tag. She said that such a young guy would look like he was sensible, responsible and a reliable person with a steady job and a good income. Husband material. Self made.

"What of guys who drive cars like the Alfa Romeo?" we asked in chorus.

"Those guys are probably uptight," were the words that marched confidently out of her lips, like well drilled soldiers.

She was definitely sure of her answer, so we sought for her reasoning.

"Well if they are young and can afford fancy or flashy cars, then they probably come from a rich family or are working for a successful family business, or something like that," she explained.

I have always thought that girls would be impressed by guys choosing an Alfa Romeo because it is a sign of individuality and confidence, but clearly there are those who can see the flipside of the choice.

I am not suggesting that the verbiations of a single Venusian is the accepted rule, but it is certainly something to ponder.

It is true that a Toyota has all the traits that the company would like people to think it has but to have them attached so firmly to the driver as well is nothing short of a marketing coup.

So what car should I drive? I am a thirty-something male, married, with children and wants to project a youthful, energetic and vibrant image but yet be seen as mature, confident, sophisticated and not showy. A Lexus GS300 perhaps? Or is that too Nouveau Riche?

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useless facts

Useless things you need to know about moi:
1. Untrimmed nose hair scares me.
2. Wonders what it's like to bite on a huge chunk of raw salmon.
3. Old people and children scare me.
4. Cannot tear her eyes aware from the sight of big boobies and extreme cleavages - especially if they are attached to attractive women.
5. Prefers brocolli to cauliflower.
6. Is a right old tease.
7. Is sometimes sadistic, more often a masochist.
8. Wants to own a machete.
9. Untrimmed nose hair freaks me out.
10. Still cannot fathom the purpose of armpit hair and pubic hair.
11. Nearly died after watching The Knowing.
12. Wonders why she likes one particular older person. Why she is afraid of getting down and dirty with him. Why she is afraid of him seeing her any less than the girl she is right now.
13. Wants to stick to the original plan made at fourteen - to be a spinster forever and drive a pink go-kart.
14. Wants a pet bunny that talks.
15. Trims her nose hair so as not to freak other people out.
16. Never leaves the house with visible armpit stubble.
17. Armpit stubble scares me.
18. Says NO to armpit stubble.
19. Is experiencing backache.
20. Wants to be beautiful some day.

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let's shoot my dad

Oh no...

This is why I hate talking to my dad. Because. Today. He decided to pursue with The Talk. Which goes something along the lines of, "One day you will get settled down too but it seems like you are shunning away all the men in the world because you are too fussy".

Maybe.

But what my dad doesn't realise is that my choices, will need to accommodate what he finds acceptable or not but of course, he usually acts like he doesn't remember the other times when he objected after I told him about the guys I was going out with. Like the police dude. Or the younger Indian dude.

My mom just laughed at him and said, "Parents will always never agree with the kind of partner their kids bring home".

My dad thinks a great place to meet guys is at the mosque.

Oh wow. I see a Muslim-centric self-help book for finding love in the making already.

What happened to... the bookstore? Dome? Starbucks? Ballroom dancing classes?

My dad says: Age ain't important. Money ain't important. It's all about the heart.

So I asked him about going out with someone fifteen years my senior. He said: I'm sure you have your ideas about what's acceptable and what's not. Duh. So obviously age does matter. Huh.

So I let something slip. And he clammed up pretty fast. My mom was alright though.

Geez. My cousins are getting married. Schoolmates have gotten married, are getting married, are pregnant, are having kids. GET DIVORCED ALREADY!!!!

So I have an excuse to prolong marriage for as long as I possibly can.

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behind my back

Hello, hello.
What's this talk about honesty?
When all you pay me is lip service,
And all that goes behind my back?
Behind that tight smile of yours?
Lies, lies, lies, lies.
Half-truths. Half-lies.
Vague ramblings that sound good
but mean little to me.

Hey?

Maybe it's not time yet.

I'll be holding out on the payment.
Can't con me with a fake invoice.
Can't con me with merchandise you don't have.

Give me a trial run.
(A money-back guarantee.)

Can't promise me those, can you?

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let's fly

Scene 1:

A man and a woman are making out in a car. It gets hot and heavy, and before you know it, they're groping at each other like the blind.

Suddenly, the woman grabs something.

Woman: What's that? What's that? It feels hard, something small and cute. Could it be..?

Man: A carrot?

Woman: A carrot? There's a carrot in your pants?

Man: It's.. MIGHTY CARROT!

Woman: AAAHHHH!!!! It's BABY CARROT!!!!!!

The car explodes and they both die.

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and a partridge in a pear tree

I don't know what came over me yesterday but what I did, and said, to a certain someone, made me feeling pretty much like the girl who had done so much bad that for her, Christmasday will never come.

I went to bed with the image of a lump of coal in my head for company.

Ah, I need to be shot dead.

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he's just not, ok

For some weird reason, I've been hanging out with Kalsum a little bit more often than I would have in the past. We watched that movie, He's Just Not That Into You today.

It wasn't exactly something that would win Oscars or Grammys but it was a good movie. Light-hearted. Fun. There were some sad moments. Moments that I could relate to from experiences I've had.

I wonder if I'll get a boyfriend soon.

Anyway, me and Kals were making jibes at each other about how lame it totally looked, two girls, watching a movie based on a self-help book that tells you how a guy isn't interested in you if he doesn't call after a week. So well, I guess to all the couples who were in the movie hall with us, I guess we came across like a pair of losers.

Then Kals and I pondered about the possibility of even getting married.

"I can't die yet. I still haven't... married yet," Kals said.

There was a good two-second pause.

"You were going to say you still haven't had sex, weren't you?" I asked.

We laughed like idiots.

Anyway, there's this guy I'm seeing. Seeing as how different people have different time-lines when it comes to events in their lives, I should say that we've been going out for about three months now.

I was telling Kalsum today that maybe he used to be a nerd when he was younger, like, a long time ago. My reasoning? He has a habit of dodging questions by trying to create something funny out of them and when he does answer, he gets all vague-like. Well, I guess being reporters, we do understand the power of how words can be used against yourself once you've made your stand and opinions official by uttering them out loud.

But Kals thought it all spelled a dodgy character. Yes, I'd like to think so too. Would it be safer to write the guy off as a suspicious person with a lot of things to hide than to ponder much about whether I'm just reading too much into the small things?

I know you're reading this. You better be careful else I'll make your name public.

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eh

The kambing flies. The kambing flies. The kambing flies.
Wheeeeeeee~

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three buttons on my cap

It's just not my yearrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sexual harrassment, attempted rape(!), verbal abuse, a tiny snake!
Maggots in my muffin, makes for yucky stuffin',
Apple juice, lemonade, watch it foo', they got laid,
Lalalalalalaaaaaaaa~ tralalalalalalaaaaaaaa~
And it all falls down.

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sleeping giraffe

The special guy will take me to watch the stars in the sky as we munch on Mars bars and lean against his car.
The special guy will kiss me on the roof of a building and carry me up in his arms, making me feel so tall with a feeling that I could float forever.
The special guy will buy me an electric-operated Ferris wheel ornament.
The special guy will tell me that he loves me and that it's not his fault that he fell in love with me.
The special guy will always give me a good morning kiss.
The special guy will never feel shy about kissing me on the cheek in public.
The special guy will kiss me in the lift and tell me that I look beautiful.

The special guy does not exist.

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somebody told me

Here I draw the line.

I've waited long enough and I'm not getting what I want.

I don't like being kept to wait. I'm going to stop waiting now.

Besides. There are the other things.. the small things that make me wonder if I can every step over them and pretend that they don't worry me. Irk me, sometimes.

My friend says I'm making up excuses or reasons, if you will, to get out of this.

Maybe. But your non-committal attitude contributed to it, too.

I never liked plans that never sounded like much of a plan. If I'm going to stick around for something uncertain that has as much chance of living like a goldfish in a muddy puddle, I might as well just kill that goldfish and concentrate on other things in my life.

Anyway you have too many things going on for you. Like your friends. Your.. drinking. And whatever.

I'm just a side dish that will never make it past the appetiser course.

So. Goodbye.

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lessons from gravitation

Was it wrong for me to love you? When all I wanted was to be by your side..

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feel my heart

If you can hear me..

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the crunch

Where has the drive gone? I need hate! I need hate and anger to spur me on to fight, be strong, to conquer!

Why do the tears fall at night? Silently they roll down my cheeks, staining my pillow wet.

I can't hate you anymore.

I've gone beyond that.

The anger, yes, it is still there.

My hand aches with pain, as do my heart. But my heart no longer has the capacity to hurt as much as it used to. It has broken too many times.

You can't break something that is already broken.

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cutting edge biomaterials

I'd nearly forgotten this messed up incident that happened to me when I was in my last year of uni.

There was a guy, a junior, I was friends with. From what I knew of him, he was somewhat withdrawn, choosing to watch anime over interacting with people. He had a few friends. And a troubled family background, from what he told me.

We were close for about a year before he started withdrawing from me. For a time, I had the distinct idea that he was avoiding me. And not just him, but also his two best friends, a couple, whom I also got to know through him.

I never bothered about it for an entire year until a friend of mine, who is a close friend of the guy's best friend told me the truth behind their avoidance.

It all started when the couple started getting attention from two weird characters via chat clients and e-mails. The guy wasn't so bad. Sexual harassment in the form of text isn't as disturbing as receiving threats on bodily harm (if she continued to be with her boyfriend) to the point that the girl was too scared to go all by herself to the shared dorm bathrooms at night.

Their friend, my troubled friend, relayed to them that he, too, was harassed by two girls which he revealed to be 'me' and a good friend of mine, who do not even know these three people in the first place.

The couple had to endure all this and at one point, the girl was ready to lodge a police report on the harassment when my friend, the close friend of the guy in the relationship, heard the whole tale and managed to convince the couple to sort it out with me to get to the bottom of things.

We met up.. we talked.. and we put two and two together.

Until today, I have no idea why the guy put myself into a sticky situation with a couple I barely knew when I had done nothing at all to him. He had decided to shy away from me on his own so he cannot say that is his way of revenge for the deteriorated friendship.

He did own up though, that he was upset that his friend was neglecting him more and more to hang out with his girl, and that the harassment was his way of punishing his friend and telling the girl to lay off the guy.

I was like, whatever. The guy's problem with his best friend, whether he wanted to be gay with him and stuff, is your problem. Why implicate me into his stupid agenda?

It's just a sad reminder to myself that I can never ever escape weirdos who always have an agenda of making my life a bigger nightmare than it already is. You know.. stuff like what the dog did to me. What Danny Tan did to me. What the police dude did to me. What Fu Ken did to me. What the girls did to me. What Helen did to me.

Why can't anyone ever be honest with me? Why do they need to hurt me again and again?

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