Cheap fuckin’ thrill

maltesers boobies!

2010

2009 has taught me more than I’ve learnt in the 22 years prior to its occurrence. Among which is that there is no shame in trying (for anything at all). And from there came everything else.

All in a day’s work

It’s dandy and it’s fine. The hours that are not mine.
So when it’s louder, the sound gets louder.
I’ll find there’re clouds clashing above my head.
And they go, they’ll go. And all I know, I’ll know.

Evidence of life

1. i am hopelessly _______

I had the worst lunch today

Updates, updates. So right now I’ve got a full-time job at hand, there are also school projects to deal with (sends me mumbling under my breath quite a bit) and I’m still taking on a bit of freelance work. Life isn’t quite the same anymore, to say the least. It’s pretty much a mad flurry of rushing to work in the morning and rushing to school and night and rushing home to do whatever schoolwork, work-work or freelance-work that requires the most urgent and immediate attention.

Thus it also burns pretty darn bad when I go to school and sit before this excuse of a lecturer who so obviously has no idea what he is talking about. It makes me cringe when he fumbles his way through advertising theories and tries to make sense of his own embarrassing, senseless crap. It gets me fuming mad. I want my money back.

But the point is, don’t expect anything out of this space no more.

Someone quipped

logic will break your heart

Bob bob

God, it is almost three in the morning and most certainly not compliant with my latest efforts that flow in the general direction of a Snoozefest in both the literal and metaphorical sense.

It’s just one of those nights, where I am inexplicably sleepy and yet lay in bed with thoughts too vivid for sleep to find a suitable window to interrupt. Conversations in my mind, if you might, like those you may find yourself in at one point or another.

Today it hit me that I can be an incorrigibly neurotic person at times. Not that it hasn’t before, but it is one of the many things that you realise and then conveniently fail to remember. Also explains why that damned pack of batteries never got around to being bought. Also explains why your best mate gets his birthday present half a year late. Or not at all.

In any case, it is true. I suppose that helps to explain why I don’t make fast friends. New people don’t understand my jokes, undeniably lame, but funny nonetheless in the same way you laugh at your Dad’s endeavor in upping his hip factor with a 6-month-old Facebook account with 2 friends. You get what I mean.

I am metamorphosis at its best. With a gaggle of giggling girls, I forget self-respect and enter a world of fluffy marshmallows and unicorns, and more realistically, brittle nails and split ends. With party friends, I am a despicable pseudo-intellectual with nothing but drunken bravado. With family, I am the perfect Singlish-sputtering typicality.

I’ve realised a long time ago that there is no such thing as a True Self, and this is a disconcerting fact that becomes more obvious as Life gets older and serves you on a silver platter to circumstances so varied, you do what human beings do best and that is adapt. As the story goes, you become a myriad of many selves, none of which could possibly be said to be more authentic than the other. One might argue, but what is the point when the conclusion will undoubtedly be unconvincing and thus unsatisfactory.

I am disgusted. By one and all.

So I am neurotic, as we all can be, in the sense that it is easier to just exist sometimes. Without concerns of propriety, of sound reasoning, of purpose and of any sense whatsoever. It is simply that nothing can be disputed in the realm of neuroticism. Madness cancels out logic which cancels out argument.

We need a little more madness, less for its loud, attention-seeking ways, but more for its quiet, unassuming plight.

Puff Daddy

It’s been about a month since Tiff has gone. There’s a whole lot of stuff I miss about her like us going at Boogie Superstar on her Wii like absolute nerds and us hysterically singing along to anything from Westlife to Wheatus in her car at 3am. But mostly I guess I just miss having my best bud around.

Come to think of it, we do a lot of geeky stuff together. Like Boogie Superstar and cooking and badminton and N’sync spoofs and eating healthy and going to Nepal.

I miss my good ol’ Puff Daddy :(

Photos taken off Narene

Bowlarama II

feat. ginette, belle, race, jack and joe

Race the racist and the 3 Azns with Azn poses