A feeling of loneliness permeates the air as I examine the beautiful interior of my hotel room. The cool air brushes against my skin and I shiver, momentarily.
I am in Cameron Highlands on a work assignment and all the loveliness surrounding me seems almost wasted for someone so horribly, horribly single.
I say it as if it were a disease.
(Perhaps it is.)
My eyes sweep over the chaise longue, with comfy pillow propped up on either side of its armrests. It will remain unoccupied for the entire duration of my stay. The veranda over-looking the scenery dotted with fields and hills will remain unvisited. I will only occupy a part of the bed, and only the bathroom will be utilised. I will only use what is necessary.
What a waste.
A hotel room meant for two occupied by a single person. It is a luxury that is lost on me. In the cool atmosphere of the highlands, I would much rather be snuggling on a cramped, rickety bed with somebody else to share the warmth of our bodies than to lie awake under bedsheets that barely takes away the cold.
Lying all alone in a big bed is sadness. Occupying a hotel room on my own is sadness.
I hate this feeling.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
a chilly night
Monday, November 17, 2008
absolute destiny apocalypse
Depressed one day and happy the next.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm going to die soon. Sometimes I wonder if he'll get run over by a truck soon.
That's kinda cool.
Woooo. He got run over by a truck - a flower truck, no less! Can I poke his corpse then? Poke poke. Poke poke. With a big stick. Icky.
Anyway, I've been entertaining myself by reading the later volumes of Jojo's Bizarre Adventure. I'm at Volume 72 now. Crazy, huh? There's up to 92 volumes to date and that's all good because I've all ready run out of books to read. Books are too expensive and I've all ready utilised this month's book allowance. And next month's.
So. Jojo.
It was by pure chance that I started picking up on the series. Ages ago, my brother accidentally bought the wrong manga title. And he bought the third volume, which was awful to read because of all the gruesome scenes. But that's Jojo for you. Just like how the other action manga of that era were. Like Fist of the North Star.
But well, what the heck. If you ended up reading the third volume, no matter how gross the story was, you just have to backtrack from the first volume to find out what makes the story so gruesome to begin with and then of course, you can't stop after that because there are so many other volumes after the third just waiting to be read. Then before I knew it, I reached the second part of the Jojo series and then the third, and that was when it became really exciting.
I just love the whole concept of Stands - what each Stand can do is unique to each individual so you have a Stand that can stop time, a Stand that can magnetise objects, a Stand that can kill you in your dreams, etc.
If I had a Stand, I want my Stand to have the power to manipulate minds which I think is the best kind of power to have. It's better than being invisible and it's better than being able to fly. If I can manipulate minds, I can easily get people to hand over their money without a fight and I can easily tell them to lie motionless in the middle of the road while I wait for that great flower truck to speed by and run them over.
Yeah, that's cool.
So where's that flower truck?
Sunday, November 16, 2008
and it all falls down
It's stupid. To think that an e-mail could frazzle my nerves. I saw his name in my inbox and thought that he had sent me an e-mail. Bzzt. Wrong. It was one of those generated e-mail things, inviting me to join an online social network. Figures. He would have sent the invite to everyone in his address book, and my address was probably automatically added to the list as well.
And then I fell. Into a never-ending bottomless pit.
I felt depressed.
I tried drawing a picture of a cow. It looked something like a cross between an obese dog and a buffalo. Hideous. I threw the drawing away.
There was a time you know, when I thought about the unfairness of the situation we were in. I thought... were the circumstances different, we would have had it easier. That we could be together.
Cue back to now, and the answer is: Fat chance of that. Regardless of the body I was born into, he will have remained the asshole that he is. I hate that fucking shithead. Because I love that fucking shithead. And I really curse the part that I can't get him out of my mind. All because of some dumbass e-mail that he didn't REALLY send.
Friday, November 14, 2008
you're just disillusioned
Shut the fuck up. No, really, SHUT THE FUCK UP.
You want to know the truth? You. Are. Disillusioned.
You wanna talk about injustice? Stuff that crap. You lot, who have nothing better to do than to bitch about people the damn long day, have no right to talk about injustice.
Kau ingat kau tu bagus sangat ke?
Then bila time nak complain, dialah No. 1. Bising macam anjing kena sepak. Come up with more creative excuseslah. What the fuck. Say that you're too retarded to handle responsibility. Or that your STD gets in the way of productivity. Validlah kot. You probably have an STD or two anyway.
Hello. You should realise that the problem lies with how you manage your time and how you prioritise matters.
Mengaku jelah. That's why you'd rather sacrifice time that could be spent doing more important things at home, like sorting the clothes in your closet according to colour, to bumming around at the office just to bitch and bitch and blacken your heart even beyond the blackness that it all ready is.
Fuck you man. FUCK YOU.
Babi. Fikirlah sikit. Who gives praise to pigs anyway?
NOTE: If it doesn't make sense, that's because the missing text has been placed between comment tags.
Monday, November 10, 2008
i rip my heart out in pain, in vain
Kill me, why don't you, kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me kill me.
Friday, November 7, 2008
what awaits is boredom
'Great' isn't exactly the word I'm looking for. 'Great' in a sarcastic way, yes.
I just finished reading that book, Brisingr, and I find that there's nothing left for me to read at home. Great. So I'll need to buy new books. I'll need to get my car fixed. I'll need to.. get waxed. And a family dinner's planned for tomorrow.
Do I play Katamari Damacy again?
Whatever happened to my Typing of the Dead CD?
Lately, it's been hard to rouse myself up from bed in the mornings. I know I have sufficient sleep (eight-and-a-half hours, that's good enough for any growing girl) but whenever the alarm rings, I just feel totally whacked and tell myself, five more minutes. Which of course, becomes fifteen. Then half-an-hour later.
I wonder if this is what they call burnout? But I've only been doing whatever I'm doing now for three weeks! Isn't it too soon to be burnout? I haven't been going home that late anyway since work for me, gets completed by the time 'real' office hours end. I love doing what I do anyway - as long as what I have to do isn't too lame so why, why, why?
Do I have to go to the gym? Is it a matter of stamina? Or maybe I'm just destined to lie in my bed with all my books forever after all.
