Brainless gorms

Let me start off this post by saying that the following paragraphs that follow after this one is not targeted at anyone in particular ( or well at least nt all of them), just fuckless gorms that i had the terrible misfortune to meet in my life.

I make mistakes. Thats because i'm human. However, i make decisions too, and that seperates me from the multi human lookalike androids that roam the earth.

Particularly this country.

If there is one thing i hate more than a person late, it's is a person who can't make decisions for themselves. People who look like they have no idea with what they are going to do with their lives, looking as if they had descended from another galaxy altogether and looking helplessly at every other people in existence that they know of for answers other than themselves for the decisions they have to make.

I am fiercely independent when I choose to be, and it doesnt help when these fools stare at me helplessly like gobshites for an answer to everything.

It usually makes me want to grab them by the neck and slam their heads against a cement wall while screaming hysterically to go fuck themselves upside down.

Don't fucking ask me " then how?" Oh my god do i fucking look like i'm your fucking brain? which part of my face look like your cerebrum? Is it my nose that looks like a pituitary gland which make you look at me helplessly for an answer to your question or are you just a stupid mother fucking gobshite?

I may have zits but i so do not have bloody creases and arcs on my face. ( cerebrum muscle tissue reference)

It is such a repulsively needy thing to ask someone else for everything that you have to do and by answering " I don't know" to everything shows how fucking lazy and dependent you are. So how does that differentiate you from a robot? exactly, so now go drown urselves.

Anyway, I probably would'nt give you an answer. i might just piss you off and reply back innocently with a " yar hor then how arr???" so you would for once in your life use your rusting 84 yr old brain. Anyway thats on a good day. A bad day usually means an assortment of vulgarities plus an underlying promise of actual bodily harm if you dun fuck off this minute.

Im sorry, but a guy has to let off steam once in awhile. albeit a metro one.

Oh god I hate brainless people. i really bloody do.

Self instinct

If there is one thing on earth that i can rely on when all else are a whirl of maddening confusion, that would be my uncanny instinct.

I wasn't born Mr.Confident, and never likely to be seeing how things have stayed resolutely the same over the years. Its funny. The things in life that you desperately want to change refuse to budge an inch and the things you hold close and dear metamorphosizes so quickly and to such an extent there isn't anything left that you can do except to watch it quietly and accept.

Okay anyway that wasn't the point. Life is still a contrary bastard anyway.

So as i was saying, I never did knew I had in me till a few years back although in the backwash of my mind I always noticed my judgement of how things are going to turn out, how the person is really like inside etc etc are surprisingly accurate. Although insecurity always got the better of me and i choose the choice that has been pressured onto me. I always end up wrong in the end of course.

No, I'm aint actually boasting. I'm quite in awe myself.

But no matter, i know better now.

Die be the first bitch now who undermines or worse, mock the choice I choose and the judgement I make.

So you want to know what i can do. Well actually, you don't. but Im going to tell you anyway. thats because im shameless and im bored and have nothing to do.

I am quite good at making the correct decisions, most of the time. I tend to have an idea what will happen when i make a particular choice and never pick the wrong one. Thats how i landed in CMM in the first place and not interior designing in design school where apparently its better to work in an indian sweat shop for 20 hours a day then to seat through their 3hr tutorials. And thats just regular school stuff. i havent even touched on the unbelievable amt of projects they have.

I know whose the closet bitch, the unadulterated bitch who everyone thinks is so the bomb, and of course the run-of-the-mill bitch. ( but that doesnt need much instinct work i think.)

I noe I sound awfully full of myself to judge people like that when i dun even noe them well yada yada crap but trust me I aint smug and more often then not i am often right in the end and its well too late when she is running rings around your boyfriend. It has happened before and it will happen again.

Well, seeing is believing I guess.

Alright Im off to do my forum posts now.~

Dreams.

She sang into the quiet night, watching the city lights twinkle in the distance, the cold frosty wind playing with her long auburn hair. Smoke spiraled serenely in long slender rivets from her cigarette into the air before vanishing into the night.

You were right here with me this time last year.

She laughed bitterly; a single tear running down her cheek in a long black streak. She didn’t believe in dreams. Life has taught her well and she knew the rules of the game. Dreams were for other people, the ones who have choices in their paths and a roof over their heads.

In short, people who lived.

But he suddenly cam into her life one day, and with reeling speed he defied everything she believed in. Life, almost laughably, played in warm technicolor instead of the same shade of grey that she was accustomed to.

In her possession was a dream that everyone else had and for the first time in her life she didn’t know what to do about it.

She was scared.

There was so much more to fall when you genuinely cared.

But she had seen a living, breathing person reflected in his warm hazel eyes; the life he shared with her unselfishly, from the way he laughed warmly at everything she said, to the loving words that he poured into her ear, gave her reason after reason to believe, and eventually she did.

Foolishly. Life always has the final say. She knew this, but she had forgotten.

And in an almost predestined accident, he was gone.

Wiping her tear away, she left the pier quietly, blending into the darkness of the alley before the sun shone and the world awoke to yet another day.

Good morning.

Beautiful.Plastic.Perfect.

I wish life was this perfect sometimes.

Day 2

Yup, I told you guys i would keeping you in track, so yes, I had a few setbacks initially, but the crazy rampage binging has been controlled and I am now "steady on" in Day 2.

Well, I did cheat i suppose. kaya sanwiches and one chocolate pocky stick. The chocolate pocky stick was a mistake of course, but how many kaya sandwiches are you going to eat to get a zit?

Impossible. But just to be sure, i'm cutting that out too.

My life has suddenly become very small.

There is only so many apples and bananas you can eat before you tie yourself to the chair and padlock the fridge when raw primal hunger kicks in.

But i'm not bloody giving up. I have started so i shall finish.

Besides, its only 14 days.

After that I can eat all the carbs I want.

Oh my god I hope all this effort is worth it.

I refuse to look like a leper on my 18th birthday.

T'was January

Holy mother fucking shite.

I am fucking breaking out!!!

And you'd swear at the ripe old age of 18, it would already have been passe. jeezus.

But its January, and like all other Januaries for the past 5 years, The lil fuckers always bloom this time of the year left right and centre like bloody peaches on a hot summer's day.

Which, as according to procedure, would leave me scarred and depressed the following month of my birthday, undoubtly mother nature's huge scam to make me look like a big gobshite as I take one step closer to my impending grave.

But no more!

Someone up there must have taken pity on me last night while I surfed the net under the duvet convinced I was the ugliest person on earth when I accidently bumped into

this.

My fellow bumpy sistas in the street, go take a look urselves.

And I swear to god upon this day, I shall never be fat or ugly again.

It just takes a little bit of will power. a Little bit.

And since I have already eaten an idustry sized packet of kettle chips for breakfast before this post, I shall start immediately after publishing it.

The next 14 days is going to be tough, tough, tough.

Luckily, i am too.

Void.

David…

***

She licked the blood off the knife, slowly and meaningfully, till it gleamed in the dusty orange spotlight. It tasted exhilaratingly sweet.

A sigh of satisfaction escaped from her plump red lips. Her wrath sated, she put on the kettle and made chamomile tea, humming as she went as the wretched girl stared back, slumped lifelessly across the kitchen table, the look of frozen horror forever imprinted on what used to be a beautiful, angelic face.

The shackles clanked as she tripped on the chains of the girl she had bounded her to while getting a cup from the wooden drawer.

She cursed and spat on her face.

A face, painstakingly and tenderly carved with a cleaver, criss crossing across her cheeks and forehead, like an artiste sweeping broad stroke after broad stroke onto a magnificent masterpiece.

She smiled with thinly concealed lust as she remembered the intoxicating high she had felt when her screams pierced her ears right from the very first cut-a singular long sleat running across her eyebrows right down to her chin.

The way her hands and legs thrashed to no avail on the iron shackles and cuffs that were bound onto her as she desperately tried to escape fed her animalistic lust.

With every slice on her perfect visage, the pain in her lifted a little, and she gnawed desperately on the pain reliever like a hungry dog to a bone, bringing the cleaver ever so deeply into the cheeks of the girl with every cut; feeling the euphoria in her core building up unbearably slowly as the girl screamed and begged her to stop, the blood spreading slowly across the table, onto her hands and blouse, splattering across the marbled floor.

The wretched girl's screams finally brought her to a climax. Slashing her throat in one swift stroke, she ripped off her clothes and had her way with her, right there and then on the kitchen table. She stared into her clear glossy eyes that were dimming out of its light as she throbbed with sinful pleasure.

And all too quickly, it was quiet again. A petal fell slowly from the roses on the mantelpiece into the pool of blood on the floor. The cat sinking its claws onto the mice under the moonlight tonight outside her pavement wouldn't be the only one to have finally caught her prey.

And eat it whole.

And when I write stories like that, it means that the project deadlines are looming. And I have not fucking finish them yet.

10 things you didn't know about me

1) I once weighed 73kg.

2) I have stopped believing in God.

3)I have sat on an adult tiger in Thailand before, and have the picture to prove it.

4)I hate eggs, snakes and public toilets

5)My greatest fear in life is not of death, but to die alone.

6)Late people to me is the greatest turn-off.

7) I am incredibly self sufficient.

8) I sky dived once, and didn't like it.

9) I am meeker than I look

10) I am wilder than I look.

Best Friends.

I really would want to keep an eye on my chocolate intake these days. Had a crunchie and a rum & raisin ritzsport. Way too full to eat lunch and I have a heavy leadened suspicion there goes my dinner too. Talk about eating disorders. jeez.

Percomm lecture was interesting this week. The lecture covered the power of body languages and some fluff on intimate distances which is like very "duh?!"material that was first explained and categorized by some old british fool with too much time on his hands.

Nevertheless it left me thinking.

All of our lives we spent a huge part of it wishing we had a best friend- That special confidante whom you could rely on when the world seemed an ominous place to be in, the one with the shoulder that you could cry your eyes out on, the person who would never say no to a shopping trip when you have no one to go out with on a bright sunny Saturday.

So we trudge on with our lives, keeping our eyes peeled out at the same time should these illusive souls fleet by and create that chemical firzzion and save us from an abyss of loneliness, and never ever be left alone again in a cinema filled with couples while you're the one sad ejit stuffing popcorn in your mouth with a very empty seat beside you.

The funny thing is, potential best friends are always present more often then we thought there are the rare, save-the-pandas species. However judgmentalism and self obsession are blinding, and unfortunately, thats what we all do when we meet someone.

I am lucky. I met mine 5 years ago and at the risk of going all Catherine Cookson on you, I have to say it was probably one of the happiest thing that has happened to me.

Okay thats it. Sop fest is over.

Anyway, I only said it was one of the happiest things. The Happiest Thing has yet to come.

I am waiting.

Wishes.

You know how people always wish for the same 3 things in life if God ( if there ever was one) had been having a jolly good day and decided on a whim to dispense one wish for every human being on Earth.

Fame, Beauty, Money.

If I ever had one wish, I would wish for more tolerance.

Its a very handy thing to have around with, if you come to think about it.

Tolerance wouldn't make you throw a white hot iron at your fat demanding boss; or do something equally anti-social that will have your face splatted across the daily broadsheet with a circulation of half the nation when he puts you on the most vicious tax code in existance.

Tolerance would keep you cool, zen and calm when the a roaring bus splashes you from head to toe on a rainy day while you are crossing the road after school having just recieved a big fat zero on a term paper. Particularly cool.

And when catch your boyfren dining with the school scat at the particular restaurant he had absolutely refused to bring you to even though it had been your birthday, with tolerance you could calmly walk over, pour wine all over his head, and wave your little finger at the bitch and say " He's yours. But hardly worth it though isn't it?" In the exact way you have practiced over the years after an unfortunate string of unfaithful bastard boyfriends when you hadn't got a chance to.

And most importantly.

Tolerance would ensure your diet works to a T. Instant Fat-Loss Solution! You would never ever be fat again.

So you see. Tolerance in most ways, makes the world go round.

To me at any rate.

And when the beautiful people get what they want, and realise half the population all wished the very same wish as theirs and start scratching each others' eyes out, while the rich billionaires create a financial cyclone with a very unbalanced economy and fame runs its way into the ground with too much A-listers around,


You can't just seat back, relax, and watch it all.

The "Chim" stuff

I know I wasnt born your philosophical genius.

Neither was i born cute, hot, sexy, tall, or ugly. The good looking gene went to my sister. I got left the Smart, Capable, and Funny gene. Definitely not the gene pool of my choice, but fair is fair.

She's the pretty airhead. I'm the brainy closet geek.

Anyway why am I tell you this? thats another thought, for another entry.

So as I was saying, even though I know I am smart, I am not really that smart. But the difference between me and the average above IQ population would be that I really, really want to be smart. Contentment I believe, is the very first step to failure and resting on your laurels is the mental equivilant to academic suicide.

Thereby the endless internet searches for an answer to the big bang, the dead in the night sudoku matches, and the loan of serious classics every week, all in an attempt to increase my above average intelligence to sure brilliance.

I want to be your socrates quoting, Russian history extraordinare punk with the purple hair.

Okay so I borrowed Paulo Coelho's 11 minutes and I have to say I'm not sure whether the book is an excellent work of showcasing our society's underground prejudice, or a very cleverly concealed sex manual. Yes there was lots of sex, and all of them described in such sacredness you'd swear having sex is right next to godliness.

The really interesting thing was how Paulo Coelho managed to put frivolity and prosituition in such a positive light. Lots of talk about the power of choices, Individuality, and the freedom of posessing without being ever truely posessed, which I have to say in my opinion is alot of talk for going one big round to conceal one's irresponsibility, lack of maturity and foolishness.

But of course, I mustnt be such a prude.We should all be open to ideas and the freedom of speech.

Either way, I'm going to have to read that book again. Your man is one brilliant up-his-arse. This is actually the first time I have ever read finish a book and not understand what the author's trying to say.

Well, or i might just be too young.

Believe.

THE.RAIN.IS.NOT.FUCKING.STOPPING.

and I have a night photography assignment to complete, rain or sans rain by tonight. Because penny pincher Mr Lim doesnt allow overnight camera loans on friday.

But I am calm. Repeat.

I.AM.CALM.

because the rain will stop. Because my night photography will be fucking fab. And Mr Yap will realise he has a brilliant student who has consecutively handed in straight As assignment and like a humongous tidal wave hitting his big thick head, he will recommend me to some hot shot photographer from say, France because secretly he is a closet gay and has had a hot rendezous with an equally fat, bald but brilliant French photographer. I will make my name in a 2 pronged approach of brilliant pictures and low grade sexual favours to the pair of them fat bitches all over the world and be happily married with a hot french model.

All accomplished before I reach the unfavourable age of 25, when your arse starts its slow descend to the floor, your skin shrivel up like wet tissue paper and you stop erecting twice per hour, 24 hours a day, 365 days of the week.

And oh guess what? the rain has just fucking stopped.

Thank god.

I'm off biatches!

Neutrality.

Every judgement made by us in life goes through a thought process, no matter how rash or nonsensical the choice we chose- because even before we have made that very choice, somewhere, somehow, deep inside every person's core, we already knew which path was the correct one to take; it just takes awhile for our senses to catch up with our subconciousness.

The teenage mom already knew what could be in store for her the moment she chosed her life of flamboyancy. The rich spoilt girl who submitted herself willingly to prositution knew what awaits her in her future. The theif knew his days were numbered with the face of the law as he creeped in the still of the night.

And yet they still chose the choice they choose.

And the cliched " everything happens for a reason" comes to mind. But scratch that.

The reason they chose the choice they choose is because they see a different side of a story that the biased and and judgemental could not see. A speck of light from the darkness that society has cast uponed that beckoned them towards the choice they make.

A right from the presumed wrong.

We judge and we critique because we cannot see what they see, feel what they feel, and hear what they hear.

And that doesnt give us a right to judge anyone for what they do be it the positive or negative judgment that you cast when we havent taken a moment to take a step into their lives.

We still do of course, every single day. judge, that is.

But then again, if i was to maintain a position of neutrality like that, terrorists could get away with bombings, lechers could get away with rape, and people and get away walking down the streets with no clothes on.

....

I suppose there was never really such thing as a balance after all.

私の世界 （１）

I'm trying this entry out in jap so i can get a lil practice. none of you will understand a thing anyway. dun bother reading tata~

ああ~一年の時間わ本当早いね。２００７年のくるから、私本当にちょっとさびしいね。。。でも　わたしも友達と約束守るから、がんばってしなければいけないんです。いつもさびしの感、２００７年の前に、重い意の思いわぜんぶおけします。

学校で私の友達に少しなので、図書館わ私住むの場所になりました。べんきょするときは、本およむときわ、全部このどころでだしました。もちるん、友達はたくさんあたら、私は図書館いるのときはとおくないだよ！でもすこしです。よくないね～

alrite. i'm tired. shall cont'd this another time.

Shallowness

I have a question for you guys.

How shallow are we really?

uh huh. That is one tough question to answer. Not so much because you don't know the answer, but answering the question itself in the most politically correct, society accepted way.

Well, I do. And my answer is an unabashful yes. I am quite frightfully shallow. No. I am not proud of it. But at the very least, I am comfortable enough to give such an answer. And I'm trying my best to work at it.

Even though I have to say it is proving to be quite difficult.

Picture this scenario: Its the first day of school. You're frightfully excited, looking forward to the new people that you would be sharing your life with for the next 3 years.

You walk in to the campus.

after much enquiry, you finally meet your classmates. You noe none of them. There's that babe and hunk seating at the far left next to you. An empty seat besides them gives you the very chance to chat up and make frens.

And then, to your far right, seats this obese girl with a fair few of zits,a very glaringly obvious empty row of seats beside her.

Now where would you choose to seat?

I noe the answer to that one myself.

To be completely honest? I would seat with the good-lookers. Sorry.

I did told you. I am quite frightfully shallow.

However, the past year had taught me many things. many things that our society has taught me that it is the more politically correct thing to do even though nobody ever follows them.

I have learnt that sometimes beautiful people does not gurantee an equally beautiful character.

I have learnt that striving for beauty, which holds the illusive promise of happiness, sometimes bring the very opposite of it. Still learning in fact. The hard way.

I have learnt that un-beautiful people sometimes can hold a conversation with me for hours. And me laugh too.

I have learnt that un-beautiful people can sometimes make me feel like they are the most gorgeous person in the whole wide world.

I have learnt that beautiful people gets an unfair advantage in life.

I have also learnt that there are beautiful people out there with an equally beautiful soul inside. But they are a dying breed. And dying faster then i can say " you've got a zit."

i have learnt that everybody are attracted to beautiful people whether they like it or not.

Yes. CMM hasnt though me half as much in theory as compared to spending life in the course of the people in it has. Just as well. perfect reason why my grades hasnt exactly made mummy dearest smile at me and pat "good boy."

But I'm grateful.

Now what I really really want to learn is to see past my own shallowness and get over myself. Life is just way too short for me to spend it on pretty living empty manequins, or become one myself.

And find the guts to approach brainy people, because they are just plain scary. eyikes.

2007

the trick to approaching a new year, and a successful, fufilling one at that, is to never expect much from it.

No, Im not trying to rain down on your parade.

( It's fine for me to be emo seeing i am all that most of the yr anyway, but I nvr drag down anyone with me. Nice, selflessness and kindness are my first,middle and last names. well why am i telling u this u wldnt believe it anyway *sulks*)

It works the same way as that first primal rule of the ever growing rule book of dating 101- If you are sincerely and genuinely not interested in the opposite sex, the hawt ones will all come aflocking to you when you least expect them to like vultures to flesh, woman to new season chloe bags, gay men to straight men etc etc.

similarly, entering the new year convinced you will be sacked from your work, be the unfortunate achiever of the worse grades in school and get killed in a freak meat mincing accident so you wouldnt reach your 18th birthday and die a sad, sad virgin lessens the foolish hope that one assumes is the most important element when approaching all elements and aspects that are new and foreign to them when they reach different platforms of their lives.

I never did quite bought all that "miracles will happen if you believe" crap.

The trick here is to bring down all levels of foolish hope to a bare mininum, so when shite things happen, your world wouldnt crash on you, and when good things happen, you will genuinely experience that primal exhilaration that only unexpected joy can bring.

Not the best attitude, i agree. But thats reverse psychology for you.

and oh yes, if you had been wondering, this method works perfectly for keeping to the new new year resolution you set too.

Happy New Year.