Come Hither.

Excuse me, while I rightly explode.



I always have this thing for cold, empty streets, and I always want to take a stroll along such streets one day. Maybe, just maybe, that one day will come.


Today was great. It's been so long, since I felt alive again. Sat and talked to Wx at Starbucks for a few hours then went to answer Bea's cry for help. Some irritating customer or something. If Bea were to earn commission for the amount of pencils she sold, I tell you, I'll gladly buy more of those really cute animal print pencils. I bought the giraffe print pencils though.

Bea, if you're reading this, you know what, I feel so happy for you, honestly. To see you and him together, and there's this glow of happiness around you, I am truly happy for you. I'm sure Wx feels the same way too.

Had MOS for lunch, and then talked more. Goodness, we really had alot to talk about after so long!

I just love you guys so much!


Bea went back to work after that, and Wx and I went done to town to sit and talk somemore. I told her some stuff, and we're talking about it. It made me feel so much better after that. Silly me had to tear in the conversation, so embarassing! I'm sorry, Wx.

I always love you, Wx. For always being there to understand my plight.


Oh, you know what? I want to complain about that shit bitch at Macs in Lido. I tell you, she's some biased biatch who refuses to give me the rightful amount of hot fudge for my sundae. I swear, she hates me. My sundae isn't even three-quarters full, you shit bitch. KNNBCCB! Scold you in hokkien you also won't understand la, make laoniangxz so angry ... Don't know how to die si bo? Cheat my hot fudge. I tell you, cheat my money, cheat my feelings, I close one eye, you cheat my hot fudge, I make sure you die damn jialat. Lucky today laoniangxz good mood, let it go. Aye, if I had all the rightful amount of hot fudge, I won't waste two bucks on like, bubble tea, with those annoying small pearls that make me choke. Biatch!




Yes, I could tell you his favorite color's green. He loves to argue. Oh, and he kills me. His mother's beautiful. He has his father's eyes. And if you ask me if I love him, if you ask me if I still love him, I'd lie.




It's stunning to know I've survived, but I don't know what I'm fighting for anymore.
When everything is lonely, I can be my own best friend. I'll get a coffee and the papers, have my own conversations with the sidewalk and the pigeons and my window reflection. The mask I polish in the evening, by the morning looks like shit. So here's one for the loneliness, and two for what we used to be. Three strikes to my empty chest and four, for all my jealousy.




Cheers.

I belong to nobody.