Archive for March, 2010

march

march.

the shittiest month for me, for 2010 so far. car crash, getting mugged, news of something that keeps me awake at night thinking…

agh. a few more hours to april.

let us get this over with.

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sorry

0252009

i owe you an apology. i did not know. my heart got the best of my tongue. or rather my pride did. yes i still feel a twang of hurt. but i rationalised what you did. i told myself your reasons. i put myself in your shoes. i took a stand in your corner.

i understand.

i think i do. yeah.

empathy sucks like that. heh.

but knowing about that raised too many questions in my head. maybe i look too far in between the lines. i am too curious.

i count and count and in some ways it adds up.

is it?

@#$%&!

it is official. god hates me.

i skidded on an oil slick and crashed my car earlier this month. and now, a few hours back, i got mugged…

goddamnit. damn.it.god. seriously, what is this shit. have i not been a good person for a very long time? have i not stopped at each and every traffic light and zebra crossings? have i not made sure that my trash is separated into recyclable, glass and organic matter? have i not opened doors and pulled out chairs? have i not stomped on any hearts lately? have i not mangled any feelings recently? overall, have i not turned over a new leaf and become a better person? you reward my good changes with bad pitfalls?

what a bitch.

to the two motherfuckers that mugged me, i am not a racist bigot but situations like this seeks to reinforce my hatred towards the worthless youths of your kind. you cheap pieces of shits which are good for nothing pests to the society on motorbikes, procreating equally worthless out of wedlock spawnlings that will undoubtedly take your god forsaken space and your useless waste of oxygen self in the future.

i hope you get high and die from the back alley codeine and cheap crack that you buy with my hard earned money.

‘sons of the earth/bumiputra’ my unprivileged 2nd class citizen’s ass.

fuck you two to a slow and painful rotting, crippling death. may cthulu gnaw on your mortal souls for eternity. may your bodies be fed to the thousand dark young of shub-niggurath, while you are still alive. may nyarlathotep consume your consciousness and rape your minds while you stare with unblinking sewn opened eyes. may you fucktards’ wounds fester after crashing that motorbike of yours into a mongrel corpse filled disease ridden monsoon drain…

my anger. it knows no bounds. if only we are allowed to bear arms. i would so slice than grin of your face with a blunt butter knife.

where are the old gods when you need them.

retribution. i would definitely sacrifice a truckload of cute little furry animals to call down the eternal wrath on your worthless souls.

these new gods work too damn slow and are kind…

and tame…

too tame…

lamers.

bleah…

sucker for sundays

-lomography, photoshop-

i am a sucker for sundays.

sunday sleep ins with you.

cocksure

it’s 8:00am now and i’m still at work with the guys. yes. still at work since yesterday morning. as usual, chasing deadlines. selling our souls to cover asses and vaginas from getting raped with a ten foot pole, without lubricant.

where is all that big paycheck, glamorous parties with copious amount of alcohol and models hanging off our arms? we were so cocksure about it. well at least everybody from the outside looking in seems to think that it is how is like in this industry. i think at the end of the day, we ourselves have been bamboozled by the same lies that we package and sell to the masses.

such irony. i would laugh but my face muscles are asleep.

i would not say that those kind of paychecks and lifestyle is untrue. but in reality out of a 100 students, less than half that amount would actually stay in this line. and half that some more will actually earn something decent. and out of that, the final 10, probably only 1 or 2 will actually climb high enough to live the big money, parties and women (or men, depending on your preference of course) lifestyle. i, for one, is still stuck in the ‘decent’ bracket after… oh 10 years here. hopefully i will move up soon before the day i keel over or something. sighs.

sad but true. days like this makes me want to drink and smoke up again. thank god for the crate of beer under my table and the emergency mary jane stash at home, heh.

so, there will be no rest for the wicked tonight…

meh.

once a month

so singapore again. for a day or two.

i sit here at a random yuppie coffee joint, ice blended in hand to stave away the loving embrace of the tropics. designing in my mind, people rushing by in slow motion. me clicking away at the mouse, hammering away at the keyboard. just another day at work though in some ways, i really enjoy this. being away from malaysia. away from working in the office. away from the kl bosses. the singapore team is refreshing. nothing wrong with the kl team. sometimes you just need some time away from the usual.

especially the bosses. heh.

so this is it. once a month, at least. like clockwork. like red on white.

lights

the girl from that little house in the big smoke.

i am so in love.

with that posh pop.

with those bleeps, and those bloops.

with that pixie lilt.

with that peculiar accent.

and most definitely with that cute geek girl in a thick black framed glasses look.

you are so worth it, you are.

-ellie goulding: guns and horses-