I’M going to be Prom Queen!

im so bored ive resorted to reading sweet valley. so far in a night to remember elizabeth and jessica (otherwise cutesily known as liz & jess) are fighting over who gets to be Jungle Prom Queen. jess the Sneaky Barsturd has spiked teetotaller liz’s drink, so liz has become roaring drunk after half a plastic cup of diluted alcohol and is getting up to High Jinks with jess’s boyfriend sam. fascinating stuff.

or there’s always michael kelly and his attempts at obtaining tea and cakes and sex and things, elle o elle. start from the beginning, its worth it! and theres more here, only he never updates. i especially, especially, especially like Moo.

his name tastes of spice and sunshine

In bed that night I invented a special drain that would be underneath every pillow in New York, and would connect to the reservoir. Whenever people cried themselves to sleep, the tears would all go to the same place, and in the morning the weatherman could report if the water level of the Reservoir of Tears had gone up or down, and you could know if New York was in heavy boots. And when something really terrible happened – like a nuclear bomb, or at least a biological weapons attack – an extremely loud siren would go off, telling everyone to get to Central Park to put sandbags around the reservoir.

- Extremely Loud And A Little Too Staged But Damn There Are Some Good Quotes, Jonathan Safran Foer

—

i wish i had my appetite back, i miss being able to enjoy food. or maybe i should just settle for regaining my will to be happy. prozac should be made available over the counter.

listening to celine dion, for some reason, makes me think of gerard yee

the new happy rotter title sucks.

sne’s BACK! i was hoping this would mean more activity on her sadly decomposing blog but alas.

*hurrumphs in sne’s direction*

ok im very tired, the lack of a single night of good sleep in the past week is getting to my brain. i wish lying perfectly still and thinking of nothing worked for me, most of the time i just end up lying perfectly still and humming songs endlessly on my head for hours.

hm i meant in my head.

good night, and good luck to me

figuratively speaking

take one normal-shaped male. divest of shirt. lay out flat.

see that smooth expanse of skin? the sharply rounded ridges of the ribs sweeping down to the sleek hollow of the navel?

see the twin projections of slanted bone. the single most erotic part of the human body.

give me hip and im yours.

paranoid android

i had a dream about band.

actually now that i come to think about it it seems a bit too weird to write down.

anw yesterday i saw the girl whose blog i’ve been stalking! she walked right past me w her friend (pity it wasnt her boyfriend, because i stalk his blog too and damn it is good) and i so badly wanted to follow them around but couldnt on account of my mom being with me. curses.

im being creepy, arent i.

but twas so exciting! to see in the flesh someone youve only known through words and pictures, and words and pictures not even meant for you to see at that.

okay, more and more creepy.

anw ive finally come up with a password. its the name of the nj band teacher who had big eyes and flirted with qingyang, its the name of the sadistic sc gym teacher (if he were a she and married) and its the name of the pl principal. had a bit of trouble with the sc bit, heh.

then again its too easy to check up. or is it? ah screw it, i’ll stick with the old one. ask me if you want to read ranty angst-filled rubbish.

argh, this is sickening. douglas adams puts it best – i’ve missed you so much, and the pleasure and relief of hearing your voice again makes me almost want to cry. you are, on the other hand, an almost immediately annoying (and infuriating, and saddening, and disappointing) person. i dont know if its better to be alone or with you; when im alone im empty, but its a soothing sort of emptiness that i can live with. when i talk to you, it leaves me so full of heartache and sorrow that there is no space left for anything else – no appetite, no energy, only insiduous listlessness and a throat full of choking tears, the vague and nagging feeling that something somewhere is wrong, that this cant be mutual love because it hurts too much.

to feel or not to feel? decisions, decisions, i have been made stupid and scared.

why am i posting so much?

today in the glom of nit (don’t ask about mrs cake) i passed by the kaki bukit dorms for foreign workers. it was like a prison; there was even a brick wall around it, surrounding hundreds of tiny rooms crammed with drying clothes and feverish dreams. my dad was saying something about how they’d all troop outside into the evening now and then and a barber would cut their hair, ‘their own people cutting their hair’, and i was thinking that it would make being all alone in a foreign country where most locals think of you as, quite literally, pieces of shit, slightly better, having your countrymen and company.

but those who dont manage to make any friends there – they spend five, ten years in a hostile country surrounded by intimate strangers; i thought that finding out about people quite possibly dealing with worse shiitake than me would make me feel better, but it just made me choke up.

have feeling im starting to sound like danielle from antm.

anyway. i dont know if you’ll see this, but. there is a hell of a lot that i dont tell you, that you dont know and understand, but if you insist on jumping to conclusions anyway then i cant do anything about it. i am sick and tired of justifying every little thing to you. so..phew!

lol, this reminds me of jasmine. i hope jasmine doesnt read this. er..nobody tell her please. HEH.

anyway again. kirara and kuroro? you have got to be kidding me -_-

i wish, i wish, i wish i were in hongkong. or that sne were back. or that WE WERE ALL IN HONGKONG.

Protected: -

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

we apologize for the inconvenience

not having a life is a vicious circle. i have discovered that, what with the long days spent alone at home reading douglas adams and giggling to myself in the unpleasant little world of my own mind, my social skills where real people are concerned have degenerated into little more than making agreeable noises and babbling gently about a shining city on a hill (lets see who gets that). it becomes very difficult to keep friends around because, frankly, when one does nothing of import one can say nothing of interest.

it’s fine and froody when im immersed in the art of carving up Perfectly Normal Beast on Lamuella, but when i have to come back to Earth to be a Perfectly Normal Human again the solitude gets a bit much. i look out my window and see all the houses opposite me, shuttered and empty because the people are out looking for excitement and adventure and really wild things, and i feel like i am the biggest loser in the world.

i feel like passwording this, only i dont know who ever reads it any more and i cant think of one that will let certain people in and keep others out. so i broadcast my wallow to the world.

i think i will go mad tomorrow, just to see what it’s like. may eddie (of the space-time continuum) save me.

this light looks good on you

nineteen years ago to the day i was born, and i now find myself in exactly the same state that i was then – full of mucus, shivery, sleepy and generally bad-tempered. it must be said, though, that Bra and Xia’s Day of Fun! (or Four Hours of Fun!) was, in fact, fun. heh.

i am aware that this is a rather poor excuse for an entry, but i have the FLU and its my birthday and i’ll be boring and curt if i want to. damn and blast, why did i have to fall sick now

i believe there’s a little time for gratuitous emo lyrics before i pop off for another nap.

–

you may tire of me

as our december sun is setting

cos im not who i used to be