Kingdom come

"The world's mine for the taking, make me king."

It wasn't easy to see through the last weekend - the preparation of my dearest, Tracy's wedding wasn't an easy feat. Talk about being a hundred percent involved, I was barely 70 and I felt like a nice piece of wrecked art.

Nonetheless, I am glad I did. For all I haven't done (if any) for her all these years, I hope I've redeemed myself with the dedication I had put into just for her - just her. The funny thing about having a friend whose birthday is just two days later than yours, the idiosyncrasies we possess are rather identical. And I've only noticed over the weekend. At 5 am, we both jumped out of bed in the same manner to our alarms which went off at the same time and the pillows we slept on were positioned the same. Picture evidence here:

Leo girls sleep on down pillows like lionesses resting on rocks.

So finally, she married and she had the cheek to tell me, she's dropped out of the Spinster Club. Just in case I haven't mentioned before (I'm pretty sure I have never), Spinster Club is an unofficial club made up of three girls - one down now, two left in the club now. 

Cartman feeling me, totally.

I hate Halloween this year. Being the all-fun-and-no-work me, I totally detest the fact that no one at work dressed up. I know we publish books but can't publishers be fun?! Halloween last year was like this:

Not the ghouls which were scary but how we managed to all squeeze into that pathetic lift was.

I NEED A HOLIDAY! 

And this is what I'm looking at:

Rawa Island, Malaysia.

Before it gets commercialised, I'm going to make my way there! Who the hell on earth can resist sipping Malibu under the palm trees, feeling the breeze in your hair, warm rays of sun beating down on your skin, and turquoise water? You're so mine. I need to make sure I make my way there come 2013.

School has started again after a good five weeks hiatus. I have lost all the drive and motivation to attend classes and I have already missed two. I need something waiting for me at Robertson Quay as a bait so that I will duly make my way there after work - perhaps Wrenna Wong since she's been hanging out there very often. 

[Picture of Wrenna Wong here taken down because it potentially has the ability to hinder her political career. Really]

*

Chrissy'2012. 

xo

circa 2012, 22.10.

He said,

It pained him that I bumped my head against the low ceiling.

He wants to be my best friend.

He wants this to work.

He has grown more fond of me.

And he loves me.

[edit]GO FUCK YOURSELF. 

You always want what you can't have.

Me included.

it will rain.

probably the only from Mars that I listen to. 

While it lasts.

I took time off from studying - my exams are due tomorrow. Went to pack my mini library in my room and counted the number of books on backlog - 19 friggin books. I give an average of 500 pages for each book and this would amount to 9500 pages to finish. I used to be able to finish a 800 page book in three days. Using this quite backdated norm, I would take around 36 days to finish the 19 books. Good Lord.

Have you heard of Marian Keyes? She's an Irish novelist and a non-fiction writer whose works consist the likes of "Lucy Sullivan is getting married", "Angels" and "The other side of the story". No? Try reading some of her works if you happen to be a fan of sarcasm, quick-witted dialogues and dark humour. Well if you don't have the ability to comprehend the meaning behind each of what she wrote, I'm sure you'll still giggle to some parts, perhaps just not as much.

Titled: New Beginning 2012 (13th March 2012)

Reading past entries never fails to either make you blush, shame you or perhaps plant that little hint of regret in your cognition/the chamber of emotions.

Titled 'New Beginning' for evident reasons, I'll list what calls for this title in point forms and then elaborate: 

1. Broke up with Lord Sief 
2. Got into my first gay relationship with Mademoiselle Madelia
3. Left the bunch of clowns at Ribbons 
4. Harbour sexual/romantic thoughts for Peasant Westminster 
5. Regretting having left Lord Sief

1. First and foremost, Lord Sief and I were already having problems which both of us had been choosing to be oblivious to. Indisputably, the both of us were soul mates to each other, and still are. However faithful we both tried to be to each other, it won't work out. .  Please don't be mistaken. My love for Lord Sief is unfathomable and unmeasurable. Even until now, I can look at myself in the mirror, wide-eyed and honestly spilling that I love him. If I'm ever gonna get married, Lord Sief will be my first choice, even there wasn't any sex. Okay, maybe Merchant Bentley. Then Lord Sief.

Dating someone of the same sex may be new, fresh and very interesting. But being in a relationship with one of the same sex is not. It's extremely hard to sustain a gay relationship especially when I feel I'm more inclined towards testosterones. And there's no bit of male's decisiveness, strength and firmness (not the hard-on) in Mademoiselle Madelia. She's a terrific person and she will make a good girl (hot, sexy, clever and all). She just can't be my girl. Maybe now I don't even want a girl. 

Who on earth preaches about herself clearly knowing what she wants, and making decisions with much consideration and if possible, with clairvoyance? Me, yours sincerely, fucking me.

I'll never learn, won't I?

I can feel my feelings seeping away like fine sands through the little intervening gaps of the palm. And I don't know what to do. Don't wish to hurt her, it will kill me.

3. Left Ribbons. Full-stop forever. If there's ever a slight tinge of remorse, I regret not sending a hate mail out to everyone on my last day. Bye clowns. I hope PETA decides to call a raid on you one day and press charges against you for keeping so many exotic pets (namely pigs, two-headed snakes and hyenas) Sarcasm intended; not to be taken in a tongue-in-cheek manner. 

4. Peasant Westminster. Funny how fate works around people. Let's see, we had a one-off thing in 2007. It's 2012 now. Five years and he's still hung up on me. I propose a toast to him for honouring the cliche 'you want what you can't have'. This man has got patience and I must say, the patience is slowly paying off. If he makes swift, smooth moves of a ninja's now on me, I'd be so darted to the wall with a big heart emblazoned across. 

Maybe God is trying to tell me something. I obviously have my past (Lord Sief), present (Mademoiselle Madelia) and future (Peasant Westminster??? Really?!) presented to me on life's cake stand right now. And it's a cake stand because all of them have their own distinctive flavours and sweetness! I'll elaborate. 

I've said it, Lord Sief is my soul mate - we talk about everything and to be honest, though sex plays a prevalent problem for the both of us, yet again, it does also prove to be really insignificant because we are so spiritually connected.

Albeit giving me lots of pain in the head, Mademoiselle Madelia is awesome. . Why can't Merchant Bentley 2, Merchant Bentley 3 and Merchant Bentley 4 readily walk into my life after Merchant Bentley 1? I cannot get enough of this man and I swear I still desire to have a piece of this cake.

Peasant Westminster. Sometimes I find those sexual/romantic thoughts vanish fast leaving no trace behind except for bile at the back of my throat. This is so confusing, especially when the feelings which were brought forth repeatedly were antipodes.  

5. I regret having left Lord Sief. If I hadn't I may well be on a plane to the Kiwi Kingdom now and Mademoiselle Madelia won't be the way she is today and I won't be this confused over my impression (note, I didn't use 'feelings') of Peasant Westminster. 

Forever.

This needs more views! C'mon, learn how to appreciate good music. 

Especially when the music video has got cool girls with their electric guitars, riding bikes, wearing sports jacket and sneakers! 

*

I'm fab.
You're not.

感情没有对手戏，我跟自己下棋。

*

是你忽略我不过要人陪。

Little bit.

Hands down, I'm too proud for loveBut with eyes shut it's you I'm thinking ofBut how we move from A to B?It can't be up to me 'cause you don't knowEye to eye, thigh to thigh, I let go

orbital period.V

More often than not, I am fully aware of the ins and outs going around. I don't normally need a piece of truth to bring forth the clarity of circumstances. And if I ever do, choose not to be enlightened, you know you are significant.

We are both complicated creatures with thoughts that run as deep as bottomless wells, rich emotions that churn like crashing waves and complex minds that spun intertwined cognitive threads within this skull. Every little thing we both do is a metaphor, an aftermath, a cause with pseudo goodwill. And if I may mention, our prides and egos are what made up us. If there isn't a point where we both shed this skin and give our true selves to each other, I dare say the ominous clouds shalt billow in, in a short matter of time. 

I would rather die, having dreamt of all the splendour we may well create if you were simpler, than to have you deliver any form of fatal blow.

I love you, so I said. And why isn't love enough, Alice asked Daniel.

I miss you Nic. You know you are the only one on earth who I'll always listen to. And the only one who I'll sing Bananarama with.

Dancing with ghouls

Regrets collect like old friends

Here to relive your darkest moments

I can see no way, I can see no way

And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh

But I like to keep some things to myself

I like to keep my issues drawn

It's always darkest before the dawn

And I've been a fool and I've been blind

I can never leave the past behind

I can see no way, I can see no way

I'm always dragging that horse around

And our love is pastured such a mournful sound

Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground

So I like to keep my issues drawn

But it's always darkest before the dawn

I am done with my graceless heart

So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart

Cause I like to keep my issues drawn

It's always darkest before the dawn

And given half the chance would I take any of it back

It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone

It's always darkest before the dawn

And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't

So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road

And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope

It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat

Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me

Looking for heaven, found the devil in me

Well what the hell I'm gonna let it happen to me

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah

And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back

So shake him off.

*

We need a mass masquerade one of these days. Perhaps behind these masks, only then could we all be ourselves - free, unable to be contained, running like horses galloping against wind.

Probably the longest post in the longest time. I'm taking a breather out of this full-day stint which I'm supposed to see it through come end of the day - that is, something which more than possibly, plays a vital role in how the road ahead will be paved. 

I sent a little note to this irreplaceable someone the other day and was greeted with nothing near an acknowledgement. I tried to understand the notion behind this, I thought we are friends. But it turns out, that we were nothing more than a mere chamber of memories, cast out to open seas, afloat in full view, but can never be retrieved again. For tied to this chamber is an unmeasurable weight concealed within the depths of the sea. The antagonist and protagonist will never have the courage to bury deep within again; we've beaten ourselves, fallen and almost drowned. Trapped under at that moment in time, we had two mermaids who came to our rescue. In different directions they both travelled, the leads shall never meet again for the rest of the breaths they will each take. But why? What calls for this take and turn on this course? It's been done and was inserted a full-stop, but why should this not start on a different note? Has hatred and loathe come into play? What have I ever done, I need to ask you this. If I did forgive for all you've done, why shouldn't you too?

I can only turn around and peer from afar, a not too distant past but stretches on miles and miles. All the silly things I've done, all the mistakes I've made plastered onto the walls of a cell. I was the one who built this cell, I'm the prisoner and I'm my very own warden.

I'm sick of games. Karma, please don't be a bitch on me - I'm sorry.

It's gotta be social compatible, sexual irresistible. 

It's gotta be right... for life.

Sure - Take That

A sorry Sunday awaits, unkind to give me the drive to see through the finales of all assignments which will soon be due and generous with giving me waves of churning insides (once again).

I've again become the victim of the very own games I play (nnb). Why do I hypothetically believe I have the power of control in every thing all the time? If there is, destiny won't even be a state of comfort for many. Mental note: alter cognition and please, if you want to play games, don't friggin bring the ball to emotional court.

I am not a self-proclaimed paradox, I don't consider myself to be. I am easily readable and I always wear my heart on my sleeves. I say what I think most of the times, be those words be in a beat-about-bush fashion, they all relate to what's on my mind. I do have the ability to find out what I want to know through asking some other questions that are not related and you won't even notice, do you know that?

I dread the thought of myself crumbling again. And yet, I am aware I have the dirty desire to. Fire is not meant to be trifled with and the risk-taker in me wants it. It yearns for the burning sensation on the skin and hews to the flesh. This sadist that lives within us longs for pain, agony and all that melodrama. All in the name of that fleeting moments of completeness, feeling of fulfilment and most of the time, make-believe happiness. Shakespeare isn't the father of wisdom for a reason! Florid his words are, they ensconce trickery and dupe the young minds into believing what is grand and naturally right. Natural was never made grand. It is a state of stillness that delivers grandeur just by being itself.

Ever-changing scenes and the life now are not granting me grace. Where art thou Chrissy?

deAr_gOd - what kind of machine have you created out of me? It's been 7 friggin years since we knew each other, 5 friggin years since we left each other, 4 friggin years since we last saw each other. 2 years of crazy love and together is enough. You don't have to haunt me this way now, please.

Just for fun, I decided to post something here of a long forgotten ex bf who happens to resemble Jay Park (go cry girls). Hi Alloy, I don't know how you're gonna react if you see this, but hey, fanning your ego here (always have been ;)) so don't go hating. xxx

Everyone has his own idea of a home. If here isn't what I think it is, where should I find this home of mine? I don't really understand why chinese value their roots this much. I do not comprehend why would someone want to do that when it's the very same root which is hurting the person. The roots may not even have to bear thorns. The presence of such roots is enough to penetrate like a jellyfish's tentacles, injecting agonizing venom to every part of your body. I do, however, know that if this is what's hurting the most, then it must go - at all costs. You may call me selfish, but I have only another 50 (if lucky) years or so to live. If i don't live for myself, I will never get another chance to. Life isn't about doing what others are doing, saying what others are saying. Nor should it be about doing what others are telling you to. Life is about being free, and the ability to listen to yourself. It is really your life. I'm no longer young and tender. I am no longer young and rebellious, although I still would like to think myself as. There are heavier consequences to the things I do but the heaviest among them all, is the consequence of not having lived the way I want to. I do not wish to die with both ankles latched to unfinished businesses.

house.

/gasp

recent finding - DJ Paul T.

How good is this guy?

This will tell.

The Mayfly

I heard the rumbling of unseen clouds in the skies and visualized the collision of space debris. My anticipation of the rain grew with each roar that creates a peculiar but wondrous bass, in tune to what my canned ears are receiving.

A vague silhouette of you took form of late in this mental landscape. I couldn't make out how you look like nor do I know who you exactly are. The one thing I do know is that you've formed like the big bang and is haunting me like a Victorian ghost.

Just who are you?

letter to future self.

age 27: work like 27, think like 25, live like 22.

dear me,

i wish you'd read this when you are 37, 47, 57, 67, 77, perhaps 87, and remind yourself that this is how it should be. 

me

I remember vividly the year I was 12, I had always wondered what kind of music the teenagers of the future will listen to. I had secretly wished for the Backstreet Boys to be an evergreen for all seasons, and I was aware that I'd be gravely saddened if they weren't to know who Michael Jackson was. And here I am turning 27 in July, witnessed a few transitions in the pop music culture, and listening to what they are listening today - only such mixes are hardly noticeable in my iTunes library. 

David Guetta feat Jessie J - Laserlight

Note that I've written David Guetta as the protagonist of this track. With all my due respect for Jessie J and her quite unthinkable diaphragm, I just can't go against my conscience and say that the song had done justice to her gift from God. Lyricist definitely needs to place a dictionary and a novel by Murakami on bedside table. Jessie J needs to find her calling and transforms into a diva, not a pop star (as you can probably see that her face is pretty weird). David Guetta needs to release a mix of this without anyone singing and take me in as his apprentice. But apart from all that was mentioned above, this is quite a listenable track. Only loving it when Guetta kicks in hard.

No longer having to harbor the childhood worry, the pop music industry has unveiled itself before my eyes and transformed into a breeding ground for DJs and Popstars. The marriage of House and Pop is witnessed with the bringing together of the better known turntables and improvised boyband/girlband moves. And being PopHouse, they are quite  a sure-win plot cleverly thought of by producers (I blame Timbaland for the earlier heavily synthesized tracks). Teenagers who are so into idolizing will definitely listen to whatever their Gods are singing/rapping/lip-syncing (trust me, I've been there. I even bought Aaron Carter's album just because he's the younger brother of his brother). The middle-aged (me and those born before the 1990s) demographic will turn to David Guetta, Tiesto, Benny Benassi, Avicii, Steve Aoki because we grew up with Zouk and love ZoukOuts. But on a comforting note, DJs get to earn more now that they get a cut of the profits from the number of songs sold on iTunes - they no longer just spin at clubs. 

So what's going to be in the scene in another ten years' time? I can't wait to find out but please just let me remain this young forever. 

And perhaps you might find a resemblance of the above to this:

-xo

Kickin' harder more than ever in 2012!

I've just realized from circa 2007 up till now, my blog has gotten only 2116 page-views. This is really a remarkable number which calls for some self-reflection especially I have been telling people around me that I'm a social media guru wannabe. We're talking about total effort, not. 

While bumming around at home with Ummairah, we've decided to (or rather, me) Google on each other. Alright, I'll fess it since she's an avid online stalker of mine, that it is I who came up with the thought of stalking her. Found her on multiply.com which there were some really cool and uncool videos of her. Found her on MySpace which exhibits nothing but a damn cool profile pic - the typical emo phase which everyone went through. Found her on blogspot - try finding it if you want to know what she used to do everyday! 

Oh, it's Sunday. Tomorrow is Monday. That makes that a workday. Damn. I have no better words to express how much dread I am facing every workday especially it's with this current employment. I totally love my colleagues, and everyone who I work with but I totally hate how it's so unorganized with minimal system in place. World class etiquette I am talking about - someone took my Apple USB cable (when I was new in the company) and despite me sending out an email, no one replied, let alone returned. Someone sneaks around (still is) like a rat and eats everything in the fridge without the basic courtesy to ask (one day, I'm going to put laxatives in M&M's packaging). People just enjoy clogging the water closets. I have a toilet on my floor, there are three water closets and all of them are clogged. And it's been two darn months, no one came to fix it. My bladder is potentially facing a possible infection. And to whom should I send the bill to if this misfortune was to happen? Human rights are definitely not prominently etched into the legislation here. 

Just when you think things are bad enough here, let me share something very funny with you. 

Someone took someone's breakfast last Friday. Jesus Christ, it was only a pack of beehoon. The poor girl sent out an email asking who did, and no one fessed up. We have a top suspect in mind. And we are guessing (based on CCTV footage) that it's someone managerial. Gasp! You think your workplace sucks, you think again now. I am witnessing a totally wrong code of human behavior on an almost daily basis. If I wasn't brought up by a good pair of folks, wasn't sent to school (wait, the people here at work are learned too!), haven't read horrifying world news, I would most certainly believe that I'm living in some cave off some unknown isolated island. In this rat race here, we have rats - literally!

So, I braced myself and decided to bade farewell. Mainly because I too, received an offer which hasn't much come concreting itself as of now. The fucken shiznits that most Singaporeans believe in, is that your capabilities and abilities are reflected based on what's stamped on your certificate. And this is so exceptionally delusional. Firstly, I have definitely come across graduates who can't speak as eloquently nor write as fluently as some of my mates who are with their diplomas. And I have definitely come across people whom majored in what they were supposed to, only to display nothing but mediocrity in their works. You get the drift here, you ought to. I'm sure there are individuals around you who give weight to your lower jaw.

While this is perhaps not the best way to end a Sunday evening and I should be in bed right now, I ought to seize this opportunity to greet my loyal panel of followers who are still into reading my junk. I missed a Christmas greeting, I missed a New Year's but I am definitely in time for some prosperous greetings! 

GONG HEI FATT CHOI EVERYONE!

But the 10 million Hong Bao Toto Draw is mine for sure, sorry!

XO

something honest.

When you thought it was good,

then came something better. 

And that's Life I guess. 

If one was to spend his whole life half asleep, what would eventually come? Do the world still grant the dreamers the rights to dream? Have the dreamers left? If we remain footed on the same spot forever, will happiness come on its own, as if it's a meteor shower which brilliantly fall from the sky on one fine night? 

Rewind Button Needed.

Been a while.
Been a while indeed.


When was the last rupture?
I couldn't remember.


I've dreamt about the beautiful sand on our feet,
the placid waters, crystal clear and blue.


Seven hours it was to send everything crumpling down.


Fleeting.


Gone indeed.

I can't sleep at night, I toss and turn

Listenin' for the telephone

But when I get your call, I'm all choked up

Can't believe you called my home

Every Little Step - Bobby Brown

-

As much as I wish to refuse to acknowledge what is going on in me now, I certainly hope for the day I find all these absurd. Because this has never happened before and I am really not sure how to handle it.

I am talking in riddles again because I have to.

Am I crazier than crazy now?

The Edge of Reason

The Edge of Reason: almost to a point of losing rationality.

I used to be able to do things which could temporarily rev myself to the state of ecstasy, strong enough to plant a smile on the face or to muster up some laughter, whether sensible or senseless. Of latter days, these no longer excite anymore. That is to say, I have been asleep even when I am not.

Does this normally come with age? Why is that I don't see anyone around me going through the same phase too? I am sadistic/masochistic with myself that I am destructing everything that is supposedly good for me. And guess what? I sort of enjoy it.

I am equally confused as a migrating bird that has fallen out of the flock, soaring directionless in the skies panicking, not wanting to freeze to death and yet, has no idea on how to get to the south. Ten new books on the bookshelf left unread and a dying soul fighting to get back what it has lost. I am no longer a happy girl.

Blame it on romantic movies and insanely in love couples which and whom have the amazing (almost magical) abilities to make anyone feel a tad less secured and a hefty lot lonelier. What are you drinking tonight? A whiskey dry for a heavy week or a martini for a lighter one?

How do people continuously do what they like and not get bored?

It's so hard to breathe in Singapore. With everyone working/striving/slogging just for that ballast of a steady income, it's painful to see faceless faces which are cracked with bone ashes and remnants of what could have been joy. And this doesn't spare yours truly - me - one who has also become one of such victims to be caught in the clutches of this pair of merciless hands of the society. Even with much avoidance, I have become the typical, the archetypal, the fearful and the cowardice.

A trip to Auckland has made me seen the evident differences between locals and the Kiwis. Kiwis work for passion, and it is most accurate to say, that the government has taken care of the people well, passing down the legislation of minimum wage, granting medical benefits and health insurances so that the people can focus on living their lives the way they want. And as much as the rat-racers would call it laid-back, I prefer to call it a true way to live, with a little bit solace, comfort and time to love even anything that doesn't concern you.

So even if I have to stay in Singapore for a tad longer period, I should jolly well earn what I should be earning, well, what I think I should deserve. I am not thick in the skull, I am proactive and I take pride in almost everything I do (if it excites me, that is).

What I am doing now is for one who's only gotten her/his PSLE. You definitely don't need much brains to run the show. You merely need elementary level grammar which I think kids these days are really blessed to be well-equipped like that. A few bombastic words which you can always thesaurus.com it. And proper sentence-structuring skills. All of which mentioned, everyone ought to be versed that way before the MOE should even decide to pass you your Primary School Leaving Examination Certificate.

A real Boss will casually chat up his employee to find out whether or not she's happy, finds the job suitable, copes and mingles well and provide her guidance and help when warranted. My Bosses - they call themselves the Big Shots, That Level - find their need to demonstrate leadership qualities by being all fastidious about punctuality and punctilious about what taboos you speak of in the office. There is no such thing as a thin fine line between coercive management and laissez faire.The former has dated and does not work with the new age individuals. And quite a blasphemy for most conservative Singapore SMEs I believe, the latter is only seen practiced in MNCs.

It is most unfortunate for such a promising organization to be run by individuals who are pre-war educated, who don't take staff loyalty, job satisfaction, internal customer service and proper planning and execution of perhaps great ideas in their own hands. Wealth does not come overnight. You certainly will not earn loyal employees who are willing to slog it out for you when you don't take their emotional and mental well-being into consideration. "We are not robots," wailed a writer when she was no more than 3 months old with the co., has its very own gravitas ensconced with rich emotions and factual qualities. The acme of success is not within easy reach and Rome certainly wasn't built in a day.

Cooped up in a little dark fetid room that reeks nothing but the old and forgotten, I'm being driven to a corner up against the wall, being offered a tightrope to walk on. But I am no funambulist, I can't thrive and survive in hard times, I crumple, fall and shatter like any other porcelain doll will. I have what it takes to be a successful person but does the world judge you on things you say or things you do/did, that's the lingering question that's as damaging as it is resounding.

This is the moment of truth.

You may think I ain't high on dope but I am. My mind is smacked.

Simon flipped. He totally lost it. And he fell right on his doorstep only to be caught by his folks. Imagine I having to will this smacked mind of mine into every way I deem right. My metacognition is indeed miraculously strong.

You know, I have no better means to express the depth of loathe and hatred for my current work and its people. I have no oaths to utter under my breath because it's beyond that.

The fashion editor doesn't even know that Ed Hardy is the sub-line of Christian Audigier. How does one, one like me, not that fantastic and well-versed in the fashion industry, be working for someone like her? Who'd listen to her when she doesn't know what she's saying, doing all the time?

The work, as fetid as one can imagine, puts its staff down, doesn't recognize hard work and talent. They only want people who has no brains but work like dogs. Individuals, my ass. They merely want dogs, cows and livestock. If you guys think it's awesome and fantastic, think again.

I need to look for a job. I am looking for a job. I just want a job which I'll be recognized for my flair in writing, my articles, not because I report at 9:30am sharp every morning and leave at 10pm (this is what they deem as valuable employees), you can pile me with as much work as you want to and I will never utter a sound, know nothing about labels and their designers and get promoted to Editor - woooooooots.

Awesome ain't it?

stu·por

[stoo-per, styoo-]

–noun

1.

suspension or great diminution of sensibility, as in disease or as caused by narcotics, intoxicants, etc.: He lay there in a drunken stupor.

2.

mental torpor; apathy; stupefaction.

-

Why do I always have to say/do stupid crazy shit when I'm in this state. I DO NOT think my personality is fucking awesome/perfect FYI! I know I always let my ego/pride get the better of me! Fuck me okay? I am sorry.

ARGH.

Wrecked just a week prior birthday and 2 weeks before Auckland trip. I don't think the word sanity exists in my realm, I don't think anyone is capable of fathoming whatever I do, but this time round, I have done wrong. I have done so wrong, and nothing I do can redeem myself. This is the result of an impromptu act which I was caught unprepared for, which I did not plan and think it through before I took the leap. This is the aftermath of expectations which was unmet, this is the consequence that I am bearing because of words I said in a drunken stupor, this is the crazy thing I do. This is me, nevertheless, so me, typically me. I said I am sorry, but to whom, I am not sure. I hate being on the back of everyone's mind, or just that little corner, or worse, a fading shadow. I hate this. I knew it's going to be a tightrope walk and I just had to do it, I despise myself.

This is how we party - 15/7/2011.

The Devil Inside

You know something is not right (again) when you suddenly broke down and bawled uncontrollably with your palms masking your face, and they seem to be the only support you have...

I have a devil inside tonight. He told me to put on my black eyes, scarlet lips, get out, do something I used to do - drunk, wasted, laid, rest a hangover the next day, spent loads of money, and forget about the entire tale when Monday comes - that's how I derived at happiness, that's what I had believed happiness was.

I had a secret deep within me that's untold. I stood 57 stories off ground a few nights ago and the bar played a familiar tune. And as I peered out into the outstretched horizon of city lights, I knew that secret is my poison.

I kissed a gay colleague the French way. He started it first, then I reciprocated. Then I started it again and he reciprocated. I didn't know what I was doing, but I knew that was what I wanted to do. The human touch felt good and I realized I have been neglected for too long.

I want to unleash something in me. Something that was attempted to be murdered, buried and left to fade. Alas, the remnant survived. There are a lot of things that need to be done. The prowl has begun.

Cravings.

A little older than 25, I have come to terms and acceptance with the way I am born.

I am indeed very taciturn. And even though you may not agree, it's hard for me to really convey my emotions, thoughts and feelings to anyone. I am glad I am a paradox to myself, and perhaps everyone else who has known me for a while. I am a coy exhibitionist of indifference and a misanthrope, I can even say I hate human relationships, I hate being close to anyone else in fact. I may have let you in a little, but the moment I realize you've gone too deep, I'll put up another invisible wall of defense and immediately stop you at where you are. Because I am not good with intimacy, I am never good with showering love. Sometimes, I am not sure if I have the ability to truly love myself.

I have lost faith in relationships. And this is queer because I have a boyfriend whom I want to settle down with, start a family and try to have kids. If playing enigmatic games and conducting experiments are my fortes, this just has got to be the way to find out whether I can establish any form of intimacy towards anyone at all.

I may not know a lot but I can tell you this, I may have reached the stage of life which I envy and feel sorry for the people around me at the same time. When I see them being too devoted to what they feel most in life, I envy their ability to believe and have faith, but at the same time, feel sorry because they've failed to realize that all that they're chasing after will eventually come down to nothing. You may have heard, that there are more to Life than just what you've always believed in, taught to believe in. I've been trying to figure this out, but there is limited wisdom a quarter-centurian can possess.

Some may ask, what's life? For some, it's an endless chase to the top of this societal hierarchy, a wardrobe-full of designer labels, millions in the banks, a vacation house somewhere in the Caribbean, a life of a heiress, socialite, party-animal. What's yours?

I do not wish to comprehend this abyss, but I do know that I came to thee with nothing, and I shalt leave with nothing. I love how the hippies think and live, but I am afraid to follow suit because I have commitments and responsibilities as my Mother's daughter, my Dad's girl, my sisters' sister. And so may I conclude, that we all came to this world with the obligations to live what others are expecting of you, for others.

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I have dreamt about the butterflies,

and the gallop of a free horse.

With the winds, the gentle sun

and the smell of grass,

an inevitable rainbow.

I ask of thee,

that you feel me,

do you fathom what I'm whispering?

I may be young,

but not too young to think,

may be old,

not old enough for wisdom.

Life pulls a leg,

a mockery,

and requests that I embark on my own.

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