Ruby eyes

So.

Here I am.
I've seen the beginings of a ruby.

Death to Han Yu Pi Ying

Ni shi hua ren?

Bu shi.

Na wei se me ni shi xin huang ne?

Wo fu mu ching chi bao mei shi zhou.

Na ni shi hua ren ma?

Bu shi.
Wo shi ge ma lai ren.
Bu bu.
Wo shi ge hen xi huan chi zhu rou de ma lai ren.

Na wei se me ni you hua ren de ming zhi?

Na shi ying wei wo de fu mu ching ba wo mai le.

FANG PI!

Now really tsk tsk tsk.
Listen you yellow mother fuckers out there.
Enlighten me.
To the best of your knowledge. What are the different races in Singapore?
Oh wait. Let me guess please! I'm in a desperate need to orgasm.

FAIR - Definately your chinese partner in crime
BLACK - Obviously an APUNANA
COLOURED or JUST FUCKING TAN OR JUST NOT LIKE YOU - Must be MALAI.

Dun pathronise me when I tell you I'm mixed by telling me I got lovely eyes. Hell ya I got lovely eyes. Mine actually close. Not like those slits you call eye lids. Geeze.

Death to han yu pin ying

Steel Magnolias

Some guy checked me out today.

Me in the cab.
With my mum.
Minding my own business.
She yapping away.
Me scratching my nose.
Feeling the early beginings of a pimple surfacing.

And then it happened.

Beyond the finger print covered taxi window.
I saw him.
In his shinny black sports car.
This eurasian guy.
This CUTE eurasian guy.
THIS YOUNG (CLOSE TO MY AGE!) CUTE EURASIAN GUY!
Was looking directly at me.
He smiled.

Never in a million years
Would I ever expect
Someone to even notice me ever again.

My hair all bun up.
My face all oily.

He smile.

And what did I do?
Continued scratching my nose.

Talk about super UN-GLAM
God help me.

A perfect ending

I wish I were somewhere else.
Or maybe someone else.
I've always stood by my own words of advice.
Stay thru to yourself.
But lately.
I really don't give a fuck anymore.
I'm almost 25. I'm still fat.
Unattractive.
I don't accessorize.
I hardly wear make-up.
Can't seem to find the right hair style.
Can't afford to buy nice clothes.
Even if I could, I couldn't fit into them.
I'm sick and tired of looking at girls who seem to have it all.
I wanna be like them.
I want to flaunt myself too.
My belly hangs out like I've just given birth.
My thighs are as big as tree trunks.
My under arm wings wave back to me when I wave goodbye.
I can't get myself to do something about it.
I want the easy way out.
I want to sit here and cry and pull my hair out and die.
Iwant to eat and eat and eat and die.
I want to torture myself from self pity.
I want to tear all my clothes to shreads.
Iwant to cut off my flesh and feed it to wild dogs.
I just want to die.
I just want to be a girl.

A life less ordinary

Today. I choose pink.
Not becus I'm a sissy girl or anything.
I chose pink becus it just made me feel happy.

Who am I?
I'm 24 and a half. Going on 25 really soon.
My passion in life? To kill the people who piss me off every single day.
And that, sadly, includes my mother.
Then again.
All serial killers started with someone who had direct contact with them first.
The one who gives life to them usually fall into that category.
Now these people usually carry the imense guilt for causing serious emotional and physcological damage to these pitiful specimens of humanity. And that would be me.

So. That kinda sums up my day job.
My night job is just a cover.
I moonlight with a international coffee company.
I have 3 managers running the joint.
One's a sweetie pie. But she's top on my to-kill list as she stands in the way of my resignation.
You see. I've got principles. I don't bite the hand of the one who feeds me. But then again. I hardly know her. So shoot me. She's just a pin waiting to be toppled.

The other is a cross dressing bitch. And an ugly one at that. When she tries to smile. All the facial muscells get all confused and go bezerk.

The last is a heavy weight campion. She throws her weight around all the time. She acts all cute and shit. Probably its a reflex action when you're that big. You just want to be small and go un-noticed. But this fella's got it all wrong. She acts small. As in mentality the size of her shoe. Maybe if people think she's young. They might actualyl forget she's huge. I think she needs to go thrid. After my mum and my sweetie pie boss. Cus she's throwing her weight around and someone might actually get hurt. The cross dresser I'll save for desert.

My other job.
Is in the arts.
Honestly. I don't even know where this is going to go.
It's scary when you can see the future. Or you don't even daydream about it.
Makes you question.
Why did I choose this in the first place.

So back to basics.
I'm 24. Going on 25. No proper job. I don't get cpf for killing people. Especially people the government don't really give a fuck about.
I forgotten why I love the arts.
Everyday. I write a page. A new one.
Telling people about my stinking life.

Knot in my panties

Hello pathetic readers

Like to dip your toes in me daily soil?
Plenty to go around.

So.
Skipped work. Going to get an mc in a bit. Have to get off bed first(Huge task that requires large amounts of effort and determination). Pity though. Bed keeps calling out to owner for a bit of warming. One should never leave bed alone. Laziness always needs company. Can't stop puffing ciggies in bed. Astray's full again. But very sure one can find the space and energy to stick another butt in. Can't seem to focus right now. So much bumming to do, so little time. Pity pity pity. One must always do ones best. Back to bed.

Slit here

Tried posting a black and white photo here for you readers to see.
If you like to know. It's a picture of a man's wrist. With the tatoo "Slit".
I've always been intrigued by such photos. Black and white photos. Especially this one.

So quiet.
So still.

Yet it says alot.

Life preserved in just one shot.
Like that very monent before you take your life.
The ringing in your ear.
The silence.
That single reason.
Peace.

Just before you change your mind.

I believe that,
when one dies,
when he least expects.
Life flashes past.
Only when he least expects it.

I believe,
the mind, the brain, our brain.
Works against us.
That moment. When we least expect it.
The regret. That second.
It triggers regret. Triggers a life much better. A life worth living.
A life left behind.
A life we can no longer live.
That moment last a lifetime.
An after death of regret.

But when you act.
On your own accord.
That peace.
The knowing that you have control.
Knowing you can end it.
That peace.
The quiet.
The silence.
Death.
As you wish it to be.
An afterlife that doesn't exist.

Gate 69 Please check in

So.

It's been a long time.
Too long in fact.

Whats new?

Nuthin much, cept for the fact that I keep making wrong turns, bumping into walls and hurling myself into swirls of politics with generous drizzle of backstabbing. Cool in't it? And it's not even in theatre or fashion. It's the food and beverage industry. With a fuck load of low IQ idiots with low self esteems trying to go by each day in this pathetic excuse for a "Chill Out" joint by ordering workers like myself around, shouting orders and barking (yes...I used the word barking for a specific reason. Please readers, connect eyes to brain and try to associate word with animal and understand the secret word i used to call my two shift managers.) embarassing remarks at dear me just to feed the ego. Lovely... Just lovely...exactly what I needed after having left another bloody company with a half...no...3/4s mad...insane...bloody looney boss with nuthin exciting in her life except asking for updates about whether the paint chip on the wall has been properly (according to fire standards and health regulations) dealt with. Woo hoo.

Otherwise....

What's new in the world.

Gate69. Thank you for checking in. Boarding will start shortly.