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my present sometimes, my past
I've been thinking alot lately.For once, i am not an airhead.Its so weird, to keep on bumping into people,and at the very peculiar places ever. Like my primary school friend, bumped into him in a club, sipping away into his alcohol, like a jar of honey, being a total social 'bumble bee', well, he used to be fat and quite a geek i must add, where books made good companion, those kind? Its great like to have a mini school reunion actually. Brought back unwanted memories, i threw aside 5 million years ago. Bad times, bad times. Oh well, people do change.Yes, they pretty much did, speaking of changes, I have been experiencing plenty of unanswered calls, and ignored messages, cause for being the person i am. I don't know where all those years went, when we chatted and had burgers in the comfort of the library, we loitered at the back of the school joint, rushing our homework to please some fucked up teacher, we don't care about what other people think even when the word 'loser' being thrown at us a couple of times, cause we had Gatsby to hide our flaws, oh and really, the hair said it all. Its kind of disturbing for me, cause we do know each other. But when we actually see and look directly eye to eye, nowadays, it will roll once in a while. Like my whole existence did not matter. All those years, wasted. I admit, i am different, but not that different. I don't get all these people. I tend to question myself at times. My whole integrity. But soon enough, i came to term with myself, and understood that i am a well-deserving person than those stereotypes. How narrow and shallow their minds are. Those bastards. Scheming son of a bitch. Ten years down the road, blessed with 5 children, an ugly fat wife with bad odour, and piling bills, and the same old friends, drinking tiger at the kopitiams. Have a nice life, fuckheads.So, i was in a bus earlier today, on Monday, 24th September, 6.23pm, just to be precise. I boarded the bus with my tired face and hoping to rest my tired ass, after a long day of dreadful school of drawing, drawing and more drawing. In that crowded bus, i saw a beautiful, yellow, PVC-made, seat, alone, in a busy corner, with no wrinkled ass to be smudged on it. With a cringed face, to lay down a little bit of my kiasuness, i gently sat on it. The smell of nose-pinching pee, started to fill the air. Then i realised, i was sitting next to the pee smelling son of a bitch. I sat quietly, regretting not taking the train, and thinking my life is just a dog, while rubbing my nose now and then hoping the smell of my hands would overpower the yurin-like stench. My eyes lingered to my left, i saw a huge bag, with dirty stained shoes and sweaty t-shirts. So i assumed that was making the huge fuss up my nose. So, still with hands against my nose, i felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked to the left again and the smelly old person, flashed his cellphone, with the brimming light, it took me 3 seconds to make out the words on his phone, in the text page,
''hi ur hair style veri nice how you style it''Shocked, my face cringed even more and the smell suddenly became oblivious. He then smile with his really really yellow-stained teeth, like he painted it himself yellow, in desperate need of some toothpaste and a good dentist to fill up the holes. ''Err Thanks.... (?)''I said, with the fake-st smile in the world.
Then, i tried to breath.
Few moments later.......his fearful cellphone, got closer to me, he was still flashing it at me with a new well-thought message, i tried to ignore, but my hesitance rewarded me with another tap...
He typed.........."u can help me style my hair like urs can help me?"He smiled and nod agressively,and his text made me looked at his hair, as much as i did not want to. I stared for a good 5 seconds and look at his face, and back to the main attraction, his teeth. He really need to style up his teeth rather than his hair.I cringed my face like i never cringed before.
''errrr, hah.... i don't know....''He then flipped his phone and began typing again. I panicked. I dont know why, maybe it was the smell and the awkward moments, or maybe the thought of unwanted homosexual approach at this kind of time?
Tring to flee, I flipped my phone, and called a random friend. I said...
''hi im at..errr chinatown already okay see you there"my confused friend on the other end of the phone, bluntly said,''eh what???? why you call me suddenly meet me all wrong person is it? eh what??? when we meeting? what chinatown all? wassup with you??????"and after i alighted, and waited for another bus, i made a vow to myself never to smell pee again. Or at least for the meanwhile.
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attica
my big fat nose.
how huge is that! can drive a truck in.
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miss baltimore
hmm.. i think i got a thing for beautiful, sophisticated, cunning, slutty, old women, with those beautiful satin dresses, wrapped round her hourglass, but slightly wrinkled figure, face injected with botox, and the too perfect of a nose.
oh, those eyes, pierced pure evil, who knows, what's on her mind, when those pair of sparkles, bewitch. oh those luscious lips, painted with expensive lipstick, that voice, elegant, yet soothing, those perfect cheeks, high up in the air, up to be stare, envy eyes across the room, wherever she's in, cause, she's Miss Baltimore...
i love her.
she's hot. very.
and to you weirdo, happy happy birthday to you, you've been missed. may all your wishes come true.
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sunday
i miss that person.
tall, green and weird. i miss you, bimbo.
alot.
sigh.
this nation just sucks.
fishes sucks.  i have to repaint the whole piece,
because the goldfishes not looking at its best angle. sigh..................... kill me. i hate being a perfectionist. its tiring. eat my brains with a fork. sigh............... it sucks when i need a person, they just dont tend to appear. why am i cursed with all this shit. my life is a dog.........
its 3.28 am this is my holiday week. but im painting! this sucks sucks sucks! sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. just let me whine and be a male shrew. i am just a fat person living in this fat world. cause its round. duh.. bye.
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bday and sex
assessments are over.
OVER and done with.
tired of drawing, shading, smudging, being perfect here and there.
TIRED!
argh..
it was hell, cause being a lazy person i am, when my panic starts to flow, i'll start sweating with a cringed face and pull a few strands of my hair, then i'll tend to do things at the very last minute.
it sucks.
i hate the tension.
especially the running up and down the stairs cause the lift was full of artsy fartsy people.
oh and here are my mediocre work.
 my not so beautiful sculpture.
 my 3D model.
the hot samba dancers in charcoal.
 the annoying feet in charcoal.
.................being last minute sucks.
so im 19 already.
i like my birth date, 090988.
i had cakes and fondue.
with wonderful people.
i love all of you!
nostalgic moment.
i love this. 
thank you, we shall head to japan. one day. and buck up will ya! 2 weeks, and everything will be alright. cheers.
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dork.
oh godddddddd.............
im tired.
didnt sleep for days.
i got so many assignments.
fuck fuck fuck.
who the fuck cares about donatello or massacio anyway.
they're dead! fuck
im so screwed.
been surviving on chocolate bars and cigarettes and earl grey tea to perk me up.
i look like im on drugs.
in need of some cocaine
and some loving and sex.
desperate, with all those pimples forming,
those sunken cheeks.
those dry lips.
those yellowish eyes.
those ju-on dark circles.
those skinny arms.
date me out anyone?
i think i look like the girl-who-can-sing-and-bashes-her-husband-and-have-cocaine-for -breakfast-and-looking-hot-but-skimpy-as-ever
 amy drinks 10 bottles of wine from a whore house
but her attitude rocks.
no doubt.
okay back to donatello.
they tried to make go to rehab i said no, no, no
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the late night.
why are there so many fakes around.
fake stuff, yes. but most importantly, fake people.
i hate those fake gestures we pass around,
the handshakes,
the simple nodding,
the smirk smiles,
the insignificant hugs.
sometimes it feels so hard to get by,
to please all the people around.
so that you wont be left out.
is it that bad to be yourself,
where vulgarities can run freely like a monkey in the jungle?
different people with different perspective.
different people with different mindset.
bores me.
sets me aloof.
I'm tired of giving those smiles.
and friendly glares.
but all i get is bitching.
argh.
this shouldn't be affecting me.
cause as a confident person i am,
i should not even feel judged.
but welcome to the real world, bastard
lying makes things worst.
you are just an insecure son of a bitch.
yes, yes, i am, i am.
i shall embrace it, and flaunt it to the world.
so that i can act like a place mat for them,
they eat food from my plate,
they ask for bus fare everyday,
and steal my partner.
my exaggeration.
was it something i did.
or said.
or eat.
or breath.
or maybe.
its my colour.
is it cause I'm not as fair.
is it cause my nose flares when i talk and smile.
is it cause of my total openness before, during and after sex.
i cant help it if i know a thing or two more...
why am i ranting like a mad person.
but you are..!
who are you?
a voice in your head.
should i get some help?
maybe a therapist.
really?
asylum maybe.
sigh..
you whine too much bitch.
okay.
back to work.
no psp.
please please get it out of my system.
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new shoes........
indigestion period:
oh please just get out of my body.
turn-on(ed) period:
oh please just penetrate me.
weird humans.
oh, oh, happy birthday to xueli, and fiona.
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saturday.
sigh...
life is a dog.
i got to stay home on a saturday.
to finish up my assignments.
kinda feeling like crap.
and feel like going to the library or something.
sigh.
sigh.
sigh.
okay, i look 10 years older already.
yesterday was....................hmm...
i watched movies.
kinda stuck in my brain now.
the rat-a-too-ee.
i love that rat.
more than mickey.
and then, watched no reservations.
its also a cooking related movie.
im a big fan of culinary.
the taste, the flavour, the smell, the price.
its okay to watch 5 cooking shows at one time,
on discovery channel and living.
but its not okay to watch 2 cooking movies at one time.
its just... tiring.
the sauce, the bruschetta, the foie gras, the basil, the oregano.
i was waiting for a night rider bus outside zouk.
it was 4.30 am.
i was broke.
and still am.
so that figures why the cheap 3 dollar ride back home by bus,
even though my body was like pounded by 10 sumo wrestlers.
i was quite awake by the sight of drunkards.
it was weird to be waiting there.
sitting there alone.
cold.
watching drunk people utter crap.
some were hot though.
i saw puke.
lots of it.
why................................
it was weird because.
when i was tipsy,
others didnt matter.
i was like in my own world.
laughing at the little things that went by.
but its he sight of watching them,
when you're sober,
different.
some tried to score.
to get some love going on.
i dont see clubbing as a place to hook somebody up.
just have fun, kiss, hug, nibble a little maybe,
with loved friends.
oh well.
my eyes are tired again.
goodnight.
oh hello there, tokyo.
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