Come Hither.

Will it ever get better than tonight, tonight,
tonight, he's coming back home.





Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands,
closed your eyes and trusted, just trusted?
Have you ever thrown a fistfull of glitter in the air?
Have you ever looked fear in the face and said, "I just don't care."

It's only half past the point of no return,
the tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn,
the thunder before the lightning, the breath before the phrase.
Have you ever felt this way?

Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?
Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?
Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?

It's only half past the point of oblivion,
the hourglass on the table, the walk before the run,
the breath before the kiss, and the fear before the flames.
Have you ever felt this way?

There you are, sitting in the garden.
Clutching my coffee, calling me, "Sugar,"



You called me, "Sugar,"

You can astound this human race.




Every time I cry, you ain't wipe my eyes,
whenever I was scared, you weren't by my side.
The only thing it did was it made me wise,
so I guess it's all good, 'cause it kept me alive.

When I needed you the most,
you were no where to be found.
But I still hung on,
just hoping for my love to come around.

Everytime you left me behind,
all these tears are no longer mine.
Because you took it all away and,
you're paralyzing me.

See, my scars spell out your name and,

you're paralyzing me.

{ Tila Tequila; Paralyze }

Can you hear me, when I call your name?




My heart thump not from being nervous.
Sometimes, I'm thinking God made me special here on purpose.
So all the while till I'm gone, make my words important so,
If I slip away, if I die today, the last thing you remember,
Won't be about some apple bottom jeans, with the boots, with the fur.

Baby, how I dream of being free since my birth,
Cursed, but the demons I confronted would disperse.
Have you ever heard some shit so real?
Beyond from the heart, from the soul you can feel?

And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.
But please don't cry, just know that I have made these songs for you.
And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take,
'Cause I'm ready for the funeral.



I'm ready for the funeral.

You're such an inspiration, for all the ways
that I will never, ever choose to be.





Stay locked in your room all day, your warped imagination.
Stacks of books are piled high, with useless information.
Let your anxiety tell you what is good and bad for you.

Let paranoia tell you what to do.

I suggest a ride, let's take the back road.





You want Asian power? I give you Asian power. Tila Tequila, y'all should really go check her out. The first Asian female I've came across doing Black Rap.

Asian + Female + Black Rap = Love
I'm starting to like her already.


"Tila Nguyen (born Thien Thanh Thi Nguyen[1] on October 24, 1981), better known by her stage name Tila Tequila, is a Singapore-born American singer, model, and television personality."

{ Wikipedia }

Wtf. She's Singaporean -,-
Uh, whatever. Who cares. She's hot.


Since I'm already in the midst of stealing wi-fi, sigh, and it's raining outside, and I've no brolly with me, and I haven finish my coffee either, so I should just go ahead, take this wonderful opportunity and download her songs. Why not, man, why not.



"I ain't trying to fuck ya man,
Errbody know he my numba 1 fan.
I done been there done that bitch and,
You wanna get mad bitch, I don't give a damn."

In your face, you sick stalker (!!)


Fuck Ya Man, lol!

(murder.)






I have a huge mug, I know. It says "I Need Caffeine", that I also know. And I got techni-colored nails. What, you got a problem is it?

I can't stand it! I'm such a goody-two shoes ( <-- self praise )
Ranny and Su went to get more piercings on Monday but I didn't. I refrained myself from getting more than the usual two, and trust me, it was difficult ( nods solemnly. ) Plus, there's the fact that I can get excuses to buy MORE studs and hoops, but uh, whatever, I didn't eventually. Could have known I would let them holes close, which is just a matter of time, because fine, I admit, I am too lazy with the cleanliness issues and post-infection prone problems thanks to sensitive skin. And I can only wear pure silver or gold. Otherwise they'll start to itch like mad and my whole ear lobe feels like it's on fire, and then it'll start to swell, with little pink patches appearing out of nowhere

(-___-)"

And then I always get ( discreetly ) jealous when others can buy fake, cheap, pretty studs and hoops, while I stand there, fuming. And I'll excuse myself to the bathroom and cry my goddamn eyes out.


But then I want to get a tattoo, like really really. I know it's stupid, and crazy. Like, if I'm so unlucky to get a noob shit beginner for a tattooist, and then he tattoo-ed wrongly, it's like it's a freaking permanent thing and I don't think I'll like that. And trust me, I can totally picture myself in the aftermath, like, take a knife out my tote bag and butcher that asshole to death. Otherwise, I'll really rage and tattoo "FAT NOOB SHIT" on his forehead, after I tie him down, of course.

And even so, if the outcome of the design isn't up to standard, sigh, have to cut either butt-meat or thigh meat to cover up. And then I'll end up with a hole in my fugly-enough butt. Seriously, thanks, but no thanks. Okay, fine, there's the newest technology of tattoo removal with laser, which hurts as much as cutting my butt without anaesthesia, really. What dilemmas.

I once thought of doing a cute sheep on my thumb, y'know, like, waaaay back in school, because small surface area, the pain will be over faster ... Until some asshole ( I forgot who ) told me all the nerves are at the tip of the fingers, and I'll die of pain before it ends. Like, good job. Spoiler!

I guess getting a tattoo is comparable to making some life decision. Maybe I'll have to wait till I get married, have kids, in my fifties or so, to get one, huh. I'll most probably tattoo my husband's name though, on my wrist. Well, a picture of his face would be nice too ...

But I'll let you know then, when I'm fifty plus, whether I still want a tattoo. Or not.


(bah.)


"Oh, sweetheart, put the bottle down."

Hello Seattle.



Favorite coffee house, turkey sandwich, huge mug of hot coffee drenched in caramel, stealing wi-fi.
And what I'm wearing right now, is inviting endless stares. But who cares.

Bah, I need to paint my nails. They look weirdly naked.


What, you're jealous?

I'll stay home forever, where two and two make five.


Isn't it ironic how I chose to stay indoors, just so to escape the heat, yet am drinking hot chocolate while playing Tetris in the bedroom where the air-con's on full blast, wearing a hooded sweater, desperately trying to relive the winter conditions, despite this being sunny Singapore.

I say, good job, nostalgia.

Make love with the lights on, baby.



My entries are always so fucking sad. I hate that.

I mean, fuck, I can't always write about "Oh, I hope everything gets destroyed," or "Oh, poor me, my connection died," or shit like that. There are good things in the world. There are people I love and people who love me. There are good books I haven't read and good music I haven't heard. There's a whole future coming up. And maybe that future will be amazing, and maybe it'll be as bleak and tedious as the present, but I have my whole life to find out, don't I?




Good luck exploring the infinite abyss.

All time spiritually high.




I, am dutifully praying for a storm to hit Singapore every single day since my return. It's the kind of storm that might be going on when a lone ninja confronts the warlord who ordered the destruction of his family's village. A storm whereby the wind is heavy, lightning brightens the sky in terrifying bursts, and rain is pouring from the heavens.

Even though I'm going to try to keep an open mind while I'm here, I wonder if keeping an open mind is the same thing as having an empty mind. Open mind, empty mind,

It's so shit ass hot in Singapore, it might as well be a desert. On second thought, maybe not ... We lack the crucial component - sand.


Son of a crap butt sand !

Just go with the motion, dear.



I have nothing better to do than cam-whore with a dog. I'm that bored.


Right about then I was having serious cravings for McNuggets, so cross the road I did, to the Macs I loyally frequent during the junior college years.

But anyway, these two anals, went up to the counter and took their orders. And when the cashier served them, there was only one plastic cup. All that dumb ass had to say was, "Could I get another cup?" But no, he had to start acting like he's the goddamn king of the world and throw a royal temper tantrum, and hold up the entire queue. I wanted to kick the shit out of that bastard, which is a little strange since his ass beating would've wasted more time than his little hissy fit at the counter. But it doesn't change the fact that I still want to break his kneecaps with a baseball bat.


I hope that dude in the back spit in your food.

Turn my swag on.




Life's been pretty much a bore. You cannot believe how many times I re-played this video. Says a lot about life and its shit hole. But he's cute, though.

Haunting in Connecticut is a bunch of crap. I got fidgety twenty minutes into the show. A decent crap movie normally takes me around half an hour or so to start getting restless. But this, this son of a shit hole crap movie, takes the ultimate credit for being plain crap. The seats, on the contrary, were conducive enough ( for me to put my leg on the head rest of the row in front ), but that doesn't change the fact how hard I was trying to refrain myself from throwing popcorn at those bunch of shit girls who were screaming their heads off when the damn movie wasn't even scary. Cheap bitch thrills. Somebody shoot them.

Reserved a book from the library. Have a feeling I'll never pick it up though, because I camp at home much too often. I've a long ( and when I say long, I do mean very damn long ) list of things I'm supposed to do, well was supposed to do. Oh, screw it.

Curse Tetris and all the cheater bugs who versus-ed me, who are actually wired computer ass-perts out to prevent me from leveling up. Assholes, get off my back already!


Because I'mma kick some ass :3

Cliche, cliche.

After much turning, tossing, sitting up, lying back down, staring out the window, counting cabs, desperate attempts to mind-zap the traffic lights, I finally fell asleep at 4 bloody a.m. Congrats to me, upon finding the old-fashioned way of intensifying the already there,

DARK EYE CIRCLES !!!

Nevertheless, I was also kept awake because of those surging bedroom design and ideas. And worried was I that I'll forget them when morning comes. So after much contemplation on whether I should get up, walk five steps ( yes, I am this bored to go count the steps to the switch, you got a problem with that? ), on the damn lights, walk another five steps to the table, sit down, search for scrap paper, take out pencils and doodle. From bloody 2 a.m. till four, that was exactly what I was doing.
Contemplating.
Intensely ...

And then I realized nobody's gon' give two hoots about my doodlings, and guess what, that's right, I fell asleep. Only to be awakened by the dog vying ( ferociously ), for my comforting quilt. Damn it, you dog! Pick on someone your own size.


I realized how impatient a person I am. When I want something done, I want it done fast, efficient. The 'Do-not-waste-my-time' kind of attitude. That's bad, because that's exactly what causes my insomnia. And in conclusion,

DARK EYE CIRCLES !!!

Meh, talking about that, realized my concealor's running out. This calls for an emergency. I need to get out of house and buy the necessities ( and of course, spread the love, spread the germs, me homies. ) Yes, I'm hell sick.

I promise you, me friend, the change of climates doesn't do me no good.
So screw you, thirty-two degrees celcius!

DARK EYE CIRCLES !!!

I finished watching Claymore, and the starting with E-something anime. Pretty good, I must say.

Anyway, because this is how I watch anime ...

1) Starting sneaks of the episode ( 3-5 mins )

2) Theme song ( fast forward )

3) Characters appear, story starts
( omfg, why their eyes so big one?! )
( damn it, legs so skinny )
( upskirt, siaxzss ... )
( I still think their face not proportionate, leh ... )

4) Story ends, ending song starts ( fast forward )

5) Short sneaks to next episode ( okay, see look see look )

6) Random person starts talking about sponsors, no subtitles ( die, please )

DARK EYE CIRCLES !!!

I conclude that I don't know how to appreciate anime. 'Nuff said.

But I like vampires and monsters, y'know ... So that's why, I attempted to load Left4Dead on the other laptop. And screw it, connection lagged. The zombies sound retarded, I promise you, me friend. For that one stupid groan of theirs,
e.g. "Grrrroooooooooaaaaannnn ... "
took the damn zombie five minutes to finish groaning. I was like, " ... wtf ?! " Doesn't help when the influx of zombies came, that took like, five billions years for them to run towards me, and another five billion years to finish groaning.
Ugh, biatch.

DARK EYE CIRCLES !!!


So now, I'm left with nothing to do.
Oh, goody.


I'm furious.
I'mma go eat some worms.

DARK EYE CIRCLES !!!


( Insert sad face. )



Seriously, can I just pretend there's nobody reading this?


DARK EYE CIRCLES !!!

On pretty wings.





12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31




Whispering comforts.

Every decent impulse.


To you, who is reading this, and obviously knows who you are after reading this, because, hell, you fucking stalker.

Basically, all I've got to say is this, stop typing like me, stop stealing my songs, and for goodness sake, stop imitating me. Would you mind having some originality please? Are you feeling insecure about your relationship, thus having gone this far to reassure yourself? I doubt much could be done either. I mean, to be honest, your boyfriend needs to bask himself in the constant companionship of the opposite gender, lest he shrivels and dies. So I could empathize. I would too, if I were you.

Like the saying goes, tackle the root cause of the problem. And you know what's the root problem? Your immature, asshole of a boyfriend. Why do you tolerate his lies and need of a women-filled lifestyle?

I mean, seriously, look at his Facebook. So I ask you this, where's your photo? Zilch. And a million other girls, but not you. On the contrary, you flood your online journal with pictures of him and you, whatever for?

For the last time, being me won't make him love you any better, any more. The problem lies with him, open your fucking eyes and look, man. You're screwing up my hit counter, stealing my songs, my writing style, personality, identity, what for, I ask you?

I've nothing against you, obviously. Just rethink the purpose behind your relationship. You probably got to wait till he's done fooling around, finished his lavishing lifestyle, for him to finally acknowledge you. I don't know how you can continue tolerating him, but whatever, good luck, I guess?

I don't care if I'm going to get karma for saying all these, but thought to put it across as a forewarning, lest shit happens. And besides, you're fucking screwing my hit counter ...

And that's absolutely intolerable.



I learned that the authorized world doesn't recognize the knife. Your knife is invisible, that's what makes it so convenient to use. See how things work? Sometimes, you just got to learn from other's downfall, don't you?



Our real discoveries come from chaos.

July, the day dawn came.



"Leaving isn't quite the same, he said to me, as running away. If you're scared or tired of what you're scared of, well, why should you stay? He loved to say goodbye and always counted out the time, until he was free to get up and leave, to learn how to breathe again.

Slipping out to have a cigarette with someone else that he'd never met, ask her if, by the way, would she like to run away and try to forget? Or just not to stay, to leave without saying why, to get up and go, to catch the last train, to get in some car and drive out again. To never come back this way, and have to say, goodbye."



I wish I were British, so I could use words like 'rubbish', 'wanker', and 'cheerio'. And add 'bloody' to every noun I use. But I'm not, so I'd probably just sound like a fool. Oh, like that isn't already happening : /


Anyway, happened to read these two random articles on Why men love women with long hair and Why men should also love women with short hair.

Personally, short and long hair, they work for me. It just depends what works most for you. It pisses me off when women get so obsessed of portraying the image that men want. Men, they control so many aspects of this world. Do not let them control our self-esteems as women as well.

You can call me a feminist. You can call me insane. But I am sick of taking this shit of being a female, growing up in a world where women were, and still are the majority, yet continuously treated like the minority.

Why do men control us, constantly, every single day of our lives? Why do we let them affect our emotions, decisions, the clothes we wear, the way we cut our hair, whether we curse or not, whether we have sex or not. It should be up to the women. We should be allowed to do anything and everything we want to do.

When men have sex with numerous women, they're looked up to. When women have sex with numerous men, they're sluts. Men can be chefs, fashion designers, professional athletes, etc. Yet, if a woman is a professional athlete, she is either
a) butch, dike, etc.
b) not good, therefore, receives little to no media coverage.

Women still get paid less than men. Women still get less support for leadership opportunities. They teach us from the beginning throughout our entire life how we should behave. What to do to be a "lady".

Now, I'm not saying I am the most unladylike girl. I mean, I'm not girly or overly obsessed with pink, but I'm not a raving tomboy either. But the way I act, dress, talk, etc, is because I feel happiest this way. I do not let what any male may think of me get in my way. To be honest, I don't let anyone get in my way. And neither should you. If you are a woman, live up to who you want to be. Don't let your boyfriend or crush or fiance or husband tell you what is what, or what you want.

Apparently, men like dumb women; but if you like learning, fucking learn.
Apparently, men like women with long hair; but if you're more comfortable with short hair, cut it off.
Apparently, men like women who keep their mouths shut; but if you have something to say, say it in their face.
Apparently, men like innocent women, untouched; but if you want to feel an orgasm, go find one.
Apparently, men like women who dress up; but if you aren't comfortable in high heels or in a dress, slip into your sweats.

Don't let them convince you you aren't perfect just the way you are.
You are a woman. And to me, you are superior.


P.S. Yes, I still love boys. Their gender just pisses me off. Not all, but some.



Absolutely no offence.



Chill pills.