here i am, watching Le Voyage Du Ballon Rouge, wondering about all that happened, pondering about all our differences. i think i am a fool.
Filed under: complaints
at every turn my womb screams bloody murder and i feel blood leaking out from my womanly orifice gushing out like a tap on full blast can you feel the warm blood drenching everything. squat in the shower and a red avalanche colors the running water red like rose syrup and you see the little bits of rose colored jelly and you close your eyes in the scalding hot water and the head starts to spin and spin and spin and this feels so good every inch of pain washed down
Filed under: complaints
in the middle of the Red Square is an old woman with a basket of ovals. one oval, two ovals, three ovals. each oval glowing green and red. would you buy me an oval?
just one.
because i can’t find the Red Square no matter how hard i try.
beating lights beating my eyes my skin my body pumping loud music into every pore pumping my blood pumping me into oblivion i’m in a box i can’t get out i want to be miss sunshine i want to screech in joy i want wear yellow and orange and dance but this is winter and every dark inside of every bloody person surfaces.
wait.
stop.
listen.
can you hear me. you read this bloody entry on your computer screen from miles away can you feel my eyes droning into this text you’re reading right now. can you feel the trance beating through my fingers as i type to the rhythm of the beat.
no, you bastards. can you smell the smoke in my mouth. can you smell my peach body butter. can you can you can you. bitch.
ok. time out from my psycho-moment.
have a good day, fuckshit!
sometimes i don’t know why certain people exist. as housemates, we’re all here to cut costs and not “eat” as much as we can from each other.
i’m so tired of house politics and this money bullshit. sheesh. roll eyes.
TANK MAN TANK MAN TANK MAN why oh why did you have to go stop the row of tanks at tiananmen square on the 5th of june in 1989 and make me write a 1500word essay on you. why oh why oh why.
/pouts.
after calling so many people, i finally got a thesis statement all the way from the UK. heehee.
inserts emotional punctuation(exclamation) mark
i’ve only finished 160 pages of my murakami book. tomorrow’s going to be a loooooooooong day in school. i miss my caspar IE very very much. 
inserts emotional punctuation(exclamation) mark
Filed under: complaints
all i need now is (sufficient)sleep.
p.s. don’t we all hate the PRCs who make all the redundant comments in class just for participation marks? fucking annoying.
p.p.s. i really miss C.I.A.
Have you ever thought about all the metals in your ipods, laptops, whatever parts in your whitegoods? Where they come from, where they’re mined, how much they cost….
How about Congo? It’s some African country smack in the middle of nowhere and you’ll never think about it or ever go there for a holiday, neither do you give a shit about the kids and women being (gang)raped by crazy brainwashed child soldiers and forced to contribute slave labor to mine(rob) the country of its precious minerals that ginormous corporations buy because of the low cost and ignore the “conflict mineral” tracing bullshit because they all want to minimize the costs and maximise their profits.
“Battle for Congo’s mineral assets”
“Coltan, the ‘blood mineral’ of Congo”
“Congo Mineral Riches One Step Closer to Being Unlocked”
“Congo Conflict Minerals – Frequently Asked Questions”
So okay kids, I hope you clicked on those links. And even if Congo is facing some serious bs now, I hope you don’t buy gold from South Africa. Don’t buy conflict minerals yo! Stop this capitalism shit!
It annoys me to no end how I am only one person and we can’t do shit unless this issue gains awareness from all of us, so have a heart and stop letting that poor child get raped and forced into slavery. Have a heart, you piece of heartless shit.
someone asked me my age today.
i want to be a face in the crowd of strangers, ageless, faceless, nameless. perhaps all i am is a pretty store-bought dress and a bad temper.
i’m suffering from verbal diarrhea but i shall desist.
goodnight and goodbye.
happy april fool’s. tell me something false and i’ll tell you something true that sounds like something false.
all the other men and women don’t look as good as you. i roam the streets and all i can think about is you, you, you, like an obsessed schoolgirl, i get impatient when you don’t reply promptly. i wish you would understand that all i have inside my mind and heart is you, you, you.
i love you C, with all my heart. i wish i was there for you, but i can’t. 95 days.
love you love you love you.
i’ve sucked less than ten happy white sticks this year.
a year ago, i sucked at least twenty happy white sticks a day.
i think it’s safe to say i won’t suck a single happy white stick this year again, since i spent a tidy sum laserbrite-ing my teeth. 
and i think to be two kilograms lighter this year is not an unreasonable goal.
oh, wouldn’t you nosy pricks love to look at this year’s wishlist and list-of-goals scrawled untidily in my muji notebook.
imischmyCveryverymuch. i just want to lie on your chest and play with the scar.
this is the obligatory i’m-a-teenager-i-hate-cny post.
whine whine whine.
i hate cny this year because i’m ill. i hate cny this year because my boyfwen has to fly back jakarta. i hate cny this year because the INCOME is miserly. i hate cny this year because i know i have to leave you after this.
i know you’ll hate the distance. but i know we’re stronger than that. i love my stupid boy.
i never understood why everyone fussed about me when i fell down the stairs at metrocity in perth(drunk) until i fell down the stairs at chinaone(singapore) while i was absolutely sober.
fuck. i fell down one step and my toes already hurt the whole fucking night lor. i can’t imagine how i could have fallen down an entire flight of steps in metro and still get up, laugh, and not feel any pain at all.
oh wait. there was 151.
