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this is a love-hate relationship we having back at home. she claws. then seeks attention.

*cats*

annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying

- we know some are just the way they are, but still........-

annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying annoying

-even more distasteful is when you know you fault, but you still continue living with the flaw-

idiot
idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot


-then you get annoyed and feel like an idiot when the world goes against you-


such fool! somebody stampede me before i waste my time on nothingness.


to rich, i'll see how you'll handle this one ;p


the sea was calm for a moment after the day is over. but everything came pouring in once again seconds later.

i kept seeing this kid rushing up the counter checking up the red luscious fruits. i kept having his grin in my head. i cant get him out of my head. i need to get him outta my head.

and voices are loud these days all around i cant hear my own. i havent an inkling where to go from here. and i usually do.


living fantasy, that's all you are to me
that is until now
when you're face start to play in loop
when that grin refuse to fade
when the nag in the head cant go away.

you have to go
you will go
i wont have you building another facade for me
i build my own.



watch the horizon from afar
bridging the gap with a finger
touching sunset with the sparse lashes
and straining to hear the voice.

swiveling in a circle in an ocean
waiting for that hand to stop the boat
and the eyes to stare you down
and that hand to slap you awake.

i hear you walking in and out my box
i caught glimpses of you here and there
i felt your kisses once in a while
but are you here for real?

today's one of those days im laced with foulness, restlessness and a moment of blankness. after that many mondays through fridays, the counting down seems suddenly a matter of life and death.

i correlate such feelings to the situation below.

imagine you're standing on the curb. you look up and saw a face. she's holding up a flower pot, and let it go straight at you. the building was 40 stories high. you watch the pot coming right at you. you didnt move cause you know there's still minutes to spare. you watch it coming in with such sang froid, thinking you'll just step aside at the last moment. after all, how long will it take you to take a step to the left?

then gravity began its reign, pulling the pot closer closet to your face. that's when you realize you're pretty much in a fucked up position. the last few seconds induce that panic stricken face, surfaces the thought of "oh shit!" and then you go blank.

maybe im just not cut out to be who i am today. dreaming has always been a reality, and reality has all this while remain a dream. such dangerous idealism still lurking around even after 20 years.



my mom followed me to UMS (university malaysia sabah).

she was suppose to start a new term there alongside me.

on the way to UMS in a taxi, i look out the window an remember hills and fields not belonging to the malaysia's scenery.

and the taxi driver blurted out to my mom suddenly of my clandestine escapade to cameron without her knowledge!

luckilly she was too excited of her new term to have not digested that fact.

i shushed the driver throughout the ride.

the roads were lonesome with only us.

it felt like a ride to oblivion.

the sky's grey and the the strange fields seeming cold.


and we arrived in a building, almost mausoleum like; with a little touch of a research facility at a glance.

there are more people in this scene.

im tagging mom most reluctantly.

my eyes were taking snapshots of the every nook and cranny, literally.

and the room got darker, mustier.

it somehow resembles a morrocan tent.

with persian rugs and many quirks of souvenirs around.

i browsed through some pretty hairclips with this irritating woman constantly tagging and talking.

walked away.

and the crowd amasses.

larry king's here for a show..

the curtain opens to a stage

i was being pushed to the front.

but my attention was lost to a girl darting pass me.

im drawn by that green eyes into another room.

the chambers got darker and sinister.

the fogs and a blur of car and the tinkling sound of laughter.

that's as far as the memories will take me. if i had written this earlier in the day, i might had recalled it to the very end of my dream.

i had to write this down because it kept replaying in my head over and over. adrian said my subconscious is trying to talk to me.

i would rather think my idle mind was piecing yesterdays event into yet another brilliant plot of a fiction. met with jas last night and we talked shit for some time.

there's where the sabah, cameron and UMS might have came in.

the rest? perhaps it is the back of my mind trying to get to me. *grins*

3 months was definitely a bliss in disguise.
im still sitting here wondering...

what happened to all my roadtrips?
what happened to my diet plans?
what happened to my 'i-wanna-drive-around'?
what happened to the numerous yamcha sessions?

well. mom happened.

the feeling of you being jerked down away from those fantasies is a tad too cruel for me.
so i thought i would have to make my own fantasies in my own confined space of my bedroom. i began seeing jas feeding me expresso at 3am in the morning. then jol appeared in the scene with __ and they started fooling around. my house suddenly became everyone's playground.

*lucky rich wasnt in it or it would have evolved into a nightmare...pheww!*


and the phone rings.. (mom calling my hp from d/stairs)
and we are thankful for technology once again.

but the work of the restless mind do not stop there. the hot afternoons were great for a lie in the bed, watching the hanging ornaments twirl.

and the sudden rage and need to slice and break necks surfaced. and the joy in seeing their bodies go limp. and the symphony of their screams. the satiation of imposing death and the rush of adrenaline in the eyes.



damn. hibernation bring out the sadist in me.






































mom said i love being included in a picture ever since i knew what the camera was for. (may explain my camwhoring abilities today)

i have a drawer full of photo albums in variety of poses and faces. apparently, i have the ability to morph after the age of 11. at birth, i swear my hair was as straight as the ironboard. but at say...11, when i decided to crop my tempurung hair and add some layers to it...it curled. beautifully and subtly at first.

then i guess the hormones must have raged within. instead of my baby black straight hair, i look into the mirror to see an unruly thick black mop atop my then bespectacled face. and in the same package, we also have the acne. but hey..i was a kid. vanity had no meaning then. i couldnt give crap about those lil' bumps.

i'll walk around in my oversized shirt and baggy jeans, sometimes without even running a comb through my hair.

mom told me one day when she was cutting my hair (yes..i was still tht unvain to let her cut my hair), she sighed and told me this

"you used to be a beautiful girl.. now even daddy ask me what happened. play computer summore la. now wear specs d" *continues cutting*

and at the age of 15, though i could comprehend her words, it didn't really bother me cause i was happy with who i am then. oblivious to the crushing disappointment of the parents. words could not penetrate me then. in my years as an adolescent, i had a colder heart than the one i have today. but when even my aunts. etc etc stop and stare and exclaimed

" *sigh* you were so pretty as a kid. now....."

i guess the word slowly eat into me. deep. had many comments. here are among the famous ones.

1. you look like a malay
2. you look so old.
3. ....... (this would be the part where they were left in wonderations on how i become so not pretty)


i grew older. and more conscious of my appearance. but how can you do anything when you body absorbs the thick hair gene from ur mom and the curly allele from ur dad?

technically, i cant do much without the help of technology *grins* and make up *grins wider* and by even simply growing older.

as the number adds to the age, the acne problems resolves by itself, rebonding is a norm to manage the hair. from that moment on.... there were always changes. still, who said it was good changes? they were many experimental looks, many humiliating moments and many laughable ones *smiles* all in the walk further from the kid i was.

as a child



and in the many years in between


till today

the 'me' in my early secondary is even more hillariously ugly. unfortunately.. i cant seem to find a picture to post here.. perhaps another day.

reaching today, when i look back into my own faces in the years behind, i felt like another girl staring down at 'her'. i cant see myself getting here. there were few moments where the butterfly collide in my stomach. its as if a part of me died in my new shell. its as if i were never her.
i just cant seem to find the bridge to link us. damn. shit happens a lot these days.

hrmmms.. it is indeed years of masquerade for me. i used to believe beauty is only a shallow outer-shell for the vain. however, as the realness of reality cant be any truer, the taunts and words do get to you at some point. or perhaps im just not as tough as i think i am to stand in my own flaw, unadorned, unmade in that tangled mass of a hair.





Girl: what's wrong with you? busy busy busy...busy doing what? ish..
girl: stuff.
Girl: ......
girl: so, how's ur day?

sometimes it cant be help that friendship is not a two way thing. you may sit me down and pour away you woes and daily conundrums on me. i'll listen. but im not the one who will do the same.

for i am vain. i care how other perceives me. i care how i bring myself upon others. and because i care that much, many a times i'd drowned in my illusion of a better self. living the day behind a shroud. the hazy lines are so feebly drawn i wonder if one day will come when i can no longer distinguish the boundaries.

and such days exist. once, i made myself believe im over you. i tripped myself on denial over and over. but i wasnt. till that thousandth time i say im over you, i got over you.

i am that selfish with my life.

hmmms..

sorry.


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its been almost a whole two years.

the moment i got away from home, all my entries had ceased to a halt. the diaries, the blogs, the habitual scribbling of verses and shuana fav; my many fiction tales.

its as if i was thrown in a whole new vortex of freedom. so many things to look forward to, so many clandestine ecapades to plan, so many rules to break . -they were right, the moment i flee home would be the moment i run wild-

*laughs*

and when he gave me a link to his blog, suddenly i remembered mine. the long lost angst from my teens (though not too long ago) and when i finally recalled what i had named it, i realized i had lost the password to sign in and worse, the mail i used to sign in with? long unused. *smack foreheads*

nonetheless, the whole afternoon spent rummaging through my past was consoling. like a reunion of two individuals. she was someone i had been trying to forget in those days. and today, i realized i had actually triumphed in doing so for i dont recall most of the rantings and angry notions scribbled there. but it was still a part of me.

a part of me im proud of. "I WAS AN ANGRY TEENAGER ONCE!"

*grins*
but those were the days. my temper has mellowed down these days. im a rather happy child these days with the still occasional brooding days (=
i wont say im glad to have come back here. cause entries are normally a vent out from the day-to-day frustrations which i cant tell no soul. happy entries are normally short. *smiles*

so, let's begin.

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