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Month: March, 2010

mummy, i love you.

DISCLAIMER: this isn’t for you to read, i wrote this to neutrailise the effect of 7hrs pure CHEENESE speaking.

today was fun? possibly.
boliao-ly, we made a 1hr trip to Singapore History Museum just to catch some mummies before they leave.
with the privilege of being a student, entrance was free, so except for “time that’s going to be wasted anyway”there was nothing to lose on our part.
place was unexpectedly huge, went through a mini maze before we finally found the display hall.
being sunday, museum was crowded, with kids running around and people QUEUING up to have a close look on some of the artifacts.
the description imprinted alongside with many of the artifacts was incredibly small(arial size 5 anyone) and given the generous compliments of dim lighting, oh man, that shit is hard to read.
still, i risked my 18yr long 6/6 eye sight for someone that’s as good as blind without contacts.
but blessed with the stuffed atmosphere around me, most of the time, i find myself putting words together rather than comprehending them lol.
i had to make good stories whenever that witch asks me, “这个是什么来的啊?”. makes me proud of my fabricating skills haha.

80% of artifacts was stale, broken and required lots of reading them to even know WTF they exactly are.
rocks, excerpts from holy books, jewelries, potteries and occasionally miniature statues of kings and gods.
was expecting to see dry skeletons and perhaps some thousand year old intestine kept in a jar but fuck, there’s none, even if there is, it’s not exposed us.
informed by the words on the walls, apparently, all coffins are kept closed in the name of ethics.
one of the coffins had a prominent crack in his left temple and we tried to peek into it, didn’t take long for us to realise our stupidity in doing so lol.

for me, the most memorable artifact was probably the mummified baby crocodile, at least the brief shape of that reptile was seeable. cat mummy takes 2nd place.
miss sim has taken a queer liking for one of the king’s head statue. she calls it charismatic due to the deep 轮廓(what do you call this in english) it possess, IDK why …

the museum closes at 6pm, am happy that we finished our tour before the PA system chased us out.
stole 2kg worth of brochures on our way out.

other than that, nothing interesting for the day.
after which, ate curry chicken at SSP, walked aimlessly around iluma, quarreled over preferred cookie choice at famous amous, SCORED OVER 750 POINTS AT THE ARCADE BASKETBALL MACHINE, got petty over tekken, sucked in photohunt and took LRT for the first time in my life.

450 words? hmm i doubt anyone will read this far.
SO YEP, NIGHTS.

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these new puritians

sometimes, i hate it when albums grow into me, makes me feel obliged to buy them.
these new puritans, broken bells, four tet … oh fuck.
i foresee a big hole in my pocket in the name of transcendent support, or whatever you call that …

and yes, i should really be properly categorizing my post. previous few was quite um … fucked.
k time to satisfy the egypto-phile in me, buaizxxxzxz.

i am sorry

for a reason that i still have doubts with, if a simple public apology would suffice, to deign, i am sorry.
with good altruistic intentions, i will hate to see you holding morbid grudges towards me for the rest of your life.
as inapt as this may sound, i still genuinely care for you.
admittedly, irrationality did get the better of me at times, for that, i apologize. but again, i must stress that after all, i am human.
till date, i still hold dear to the words i have said to you, all of them.
sincerely, my relationship with you was an important one, something i still look back and value.
i have made rash, cold and sudden decisions, and in result, you have been hurt. for that, once again, i am sorry.

if my words still lacks in negating that sinister impression of mine in you, do this not for me, but for yourself and your current relationship. i am certain that joaquim would be at unease to see you hold such strong bitterness.
i still regard him as my good friend and everyone else in our “clique”. one day, hopefully you as well, if you allow me too.
you are a nice girl, i know.

that will be all. i wish you all the best in life for whatever you do.

it’s early, hi …

hardly ever, bad dreams shook me up, but last night(or perhaps hours ago) was an exception, probably in sequel to THAT incident.

a dream where i imagined myself to be a vermin, a cockroach. struggling to attend work despite my frail and deformed body.
every morning, i fed on rotten cheese and sour milk while oddly taking pleasure in the strumming of a violin not too distant.
my corrupted new outlook was a blessing in disguise, it made me recognised my family members for who they are; money grunting pigs without an ounce of sympathy.
our housing loan weigh the world to them, so much so i suspect my upbringing was engineered only to make me an instrument to thin our debts.
however, being the habitual wimp, i didn’t allow my suspicion to take me far, and cowardly believed in the “power” of ignoring.

towards the end, i was exhausted, both physically and mentally, so severe i could feel my soul floating as the grim reaper made frequent visits for me.
staring at the taunts of the checkered flag, i was un-satisfied of course, the way my life was led.
with all my remaining vigor, i crawled like a crippled insect, heading to the backyard garden.
at there, i naively hope to borrow the strength of “gods” to rewind my life.
but gentlemen, as can you see, as the word “insect” would suggest; worthless and pathetic, my attempt was nothing more than a desperate grapple with life.

awaiting anxiously beside the flower bed, welcoming me with scythe and shovels, stood my family.
on my deathbed, or in this case, soil, all i heard was vague incessant mocking while earth and worms filled my throat.
as soon as dirt fully covered my vision, spontaneously, as if my lungs were filled with helium, my soul swam up the sky.
granted, or rather, cursed with clear consciousness, i surveyed through their merry celebration upon my burial, while so, the thought of “parricide” easily endeavored me.

however, remaining pitiful and lowly, there was nothing i could do, could i?
without any navigation over myself, i floated like a balloon, till those “vermins” escape my sight and hate, till the clouds ring me, till you woke me up.

THE END.

LALALALALALALALA.
literature enthusiast should find my dream familiar. *GRIN*
weird shit writing? i like (y)

splendid …

They say that Cleopatra was fond of sticking
gold pins into her slave-girls’ breasts and derived
gratification from their screams and writhings. You will say
that that was in the comparatively barbarous times; that
these are barbarous times too, because also, comparatively
speaking, pins are stuck in even now; that though man has
now learned to see more clearly than in barbarous ages, he
is still far from having learnt to act as reason and science
would dictate. But yet you are fully convinced that he will
be sure to learn when he gets rid of certain old bad habits,
and when common sense and science have completely reeducated
human nature and turned it in a normal direction.

“notes from underground” – chapter 7.
allow it to trigger your neurons and waver your stance on modern presumed “ethics”.

guess where i took this from?

“I COULD NOT BECOME ANYTHING:

NEITHER BAD NOR GOOD, NEITHER

A SCOUNDREL NOR AN HONEST MAN,

NEITHER A HERO NOR AN INSECT.

AND NOW I AM EKING OUT MY DAYS

IN MY CORNER, TAUNTING MYSELF

WITH THE BITTER AND ENTIRELY

USELESS CONSOLATION THAT AN

INTELLIGENT MAN CANNOT SERIOUSLY

BECOME ANYTHING; THAT ONLY

A FOOL CAN BECOME SOMETHING.”

somewhere considerably evil …

tonight


THERE WILL BE MAGIC.

love is no big truth, driven by genes we are simple selfish beings …

digimon tamers!


nostalgia at it’s peak! unleashing the inner child in me.
in fact, even at the age of 18, d.tamers is so awesome that upon completion last night, i dreamt of myself frolicking among a herd of patamons in the digital world.
that shit is better than having maria ozawa suck on your dick!
but if i could choose, terriermons will be better though :/ still i shan’t complain …

the hype has yet to reside in me and within this few months, if anybody tries to play cereal by asking me “what’s your ambition?”
i swear i will dumbfound them by butting(verb) off my chair, holding my arms like this \o/ and shout, “TO BE A DIGIMON TAMER!”

either way, my 51ep long journey has ended.
as much as i am resisting myself to spread my passion for digimon, i do not want to risk myself sounding anymore stupid.
so i guess i’ll just conclude this post my listing my favourite digimons based on their level …

child type: terriermon, renamon, impmon
adult type: dobermon (surprisingly, there’s not much adult type digimons that i like)
perfect type: taomon, weregarurumon, antiramon
mega type: marineangemon, beelzemon, qinglongmon

peace and out …

ps: maybe i sound marathon something mature like grey’s antonomy to neutralise my childishness.

life in a nut shell …

yep, that’s it.
trust is nothing but an emotional investment. recognize it’s risk and returns.
don’t invest all your trust into a single stock, or in this case, someone.

nyquil

reading all the online stories(or perhaps fantasies) about nyquil makes me wanna try this bastard badly.
based on unanimous online feedbacks, seems that this little bottle of innocent cough syrup is more than capable of taking out a 6feet tall burly breaded man that drinks martell shots for breakfast.
not to debunk the power of chemistry but just to confirm the strength of it’s punch, will be heading down to a nearby pharmacy later to procure it.
does guardian sell this monster syrup?
wish me luck that nyquil isn’t banned by our overly paranoid government.


when it’s illegal, you label it as drugs and fight shy of it.
but when it’s legal, say hi to nyquil, the sluts that will be blowing you off during sleep and your evaporated cum.

oh fuck, i am shivering in excitement for the wrongest reason right now.
i can totally imagine myself to be a weed loving hippie under some worn out bridge at amsterdam.

till the end of my coma, ciao …

PS: on a sporadic diarrhea spree recently, i hope my stomach tames itself during my deep coma. i wouldn’t want to imagine the consequences …