i hear voices

it's funny how the mind works.
especially when it comes to reading, and we personally hire a narrator to read to us, for us, by us.
this thought came to me when someone was busy talking to me about reading Edward Cullen's true self when she reads in comparison to the shotty movie that he stars in,


i hate it when i read to myself sometimes.

at times i feel like absolute nothing,

you know the feeling when you force your gag reflexes to imitate the act of vomiting,
no?... just me?

my brain stops working, and all i can think of seems like a rumble of thickened clouds ready to thunder

that's it.
like, a trapped number of thundering clouds, multiplying vastly in my skull, pushing its way out, and getting nowhere.
an all over exhaustion of the body, wanting no part in the play of life

and that's when i go on a quest to find a song that brings me back to feeling...anything.
i don't know whether i'm the only one to do this or not, but i use music to drive my feelings to a conclusion. mainly to say "you're not the only one"
because i just don't hear that often enough.
(and unfortunately, there's not sarcasm involved in that last comment)

and so, i thought i'd share the list i remember:

Prodigy - "firestarter"
MAI HIME - "mezame"
Blink 182 - "not now"
Postal Service - "nothing better"
Boxcar Racers - "i feel so"

and now i can happily add:
Paul Dempsey - "ramona was a waitress"

simply the most divine song i've heard all year.
makes me think of the future and its focus on building a better tomorrow while changing nothing in a sense; keeping products at its best to represent the present.
but really, when it comes to living forever, even if you program a robot to have the same memory as someone, it still will never have that human finished touch.
but that's another post.
for now, i've best leave procrastination to rot and die.


my web porn

what i love finding on websites are things that may make my day.
not only have i found Mylifeisaverage.com now, but i've also discovered MysteryGoogle
it's quite fun if you'd like to gain a little knowledge and pass the time.
how it works is you type in a keyword to search, though don't dwell too much on it, because it's for someone else you see.
what YOU get directed to however, is the websearch that someone ELSE has typed in to search.
quite clever i say.

so don't leave the search empty or MysteryGoogle will display a message saying "Please don't type gibberish", prompting you to search something else.


p.s i typed 'gibberish' and i'm still trying to figure out how to pass onto the next message they leave.

why so nosey?

just a short entry today folks.

i've got to say, i love reading about people's lives and when someone had mentioned FML (Fuck My Life) to me, i got pretty excited.
but i found something even better!

it's quite nice. rather than hearing about the depressing days and the inhumane ways of society in this day and age, people post about how their lives had become unexpected and the most awesome thing has happened instead.
here's one that i found recently:

"Today, I was shopping at the mall when I had to use the elevator. There was also a young boy and his mom in there. The little boy looked his mom in the eye and said in a serious voice, "If you don't buy me ice cream, I'm never gonna give you grandchildren.""

and reading a couple of these entries, it gets me wondering, how many of these entries are real?
because i've read that many submissions have been cussed because it's so obvious that it's fake, and you wonder why they needed to submit something that was fake just to gain respect.
WHY in the world would anyone need acceptance by readers of one's own entries-when they don't even know who you are! if your life wasn't that interesting that particular day, why submit anything at all? They've just ruined a great new relationship : (

that's why i still stay a fan of postsecret.blogspot.com; even though it gives off the sad vibe of life most of the time, i stay because they all seem genuine. there is no reason (without seeming like a dickwad) to abuse such a project.


p.s Apparently, if you shove headphones up your nose while turning on your music player really loudly, you can project the sound from your mouth and mute it when your mouth is closed.
fun fact.

the evolution of "is not"

(--- to '92) *bawls*
('92 to '95) nah-uh!
('95 to '96) izzen!
('96 to '97) is NOT
('96 to '98) is not
('98 to '05) isn't
('05 to '08) =/=
('08 to '09) !=

it's quite sad really...


i can coin terms too!

how awesome is it for someone to have a word they created turn into terminology that professors teach, students vocabulate and the world wiki's to understand?
have you ever wanted to make up a word? i never really thought about it, but to me lately, it sounds so ... sexy.

which comes back to the reference to the last blog on what i call *clears throat*

(would be) derived from the Greek words, auto (self) and agnōsis (not knowing). The term highlights the common condition in which a subject is unable to judge one's own condition due to the ignorance of their own existence.

say for example, "i'm sick of Hershews whining! can't she see that he left her because she's such a cry-baby? damn, that girl has a bad case of autoagnosis!"

hahahaha ok, bad example, but still, it's weird how most people just don't look at themselves the way that others do. I think it's just because they know what goes on behind the curtain, and don't realise that no one else sees what they see. people think they're just simple, fun loving person, and yet, they're really a more voluminous person with history, reason, fear...
that's got nothing to do with my terminology though.
ahhahaha i love being side-tracked.

back to my terminology! i remember this one thing i saw on Oprah one time for handling problems; that is, to write letters to yourself.
it was so simple.
it's so easy giving our own friends advice (you know, because we know them so well) but when it comes to ourselves, we have no friggin' clue whatsoever on what to do, so the super-genius plan was to write a letter to yourself!
call yourself whatever you'd like and whatsoever, slip your letter under your door and write back to your 'friend'. Be your own super best friend!-who, by the way, gives GREAT advice.

the upside to all of this is, well, you get answers, you're more likely to become zyrtec-fast relaxed when you concentrate on writing more than whining...and...well...the only downside i can see is that it might make you look like a loony. depends on the angle you look at it, really.
smiley face.

anyway, i should probably sleep now. i've lost all train of thought on this.
that's all folks, thanks for listening,

p.s thanks oprah, for the advice!...or was it my own friend herself who said it... |: ( or both


just one more day

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear."
Ambrose Redmoon

what usually helps me move on forward in life is the constant ringing in my head after something destructive happens to me.
"this has happened before
this has happened before. this has happened before. this has happened before. this. happened before. before. before."
sounds a little psychopathic now that i think about it- but it helps.
let's just hope these words don't ever escape from my mouth. : D

but it goes on to habits. good or bad? depends how you like your personality huh? sunny-side up this morning with me, anyone?
i think habits are the weirdest things that define who you are. like when i drink from bottles, i always turn to my side to drink
. he he he. model-in the making...*wiggles eyebrows*
but really, habits are just subconscious routines of behaviour which people don't think about until questioned. then do they really start to analyse themselves-which leads onto self-ignorance...but let's touch on that another day
< : ) 3

i believe i had this conversation once upon a time with work mates and they didn't think they had any weird habits at all; until someone yelled in excitement, "what about how you touch both of your feet before you go to sleep?!"
or when lover thought he wasn't weird, i exclaimed (really loudly) "whattaya talkin' 'bout?!? you eat your apple with two hands-no matter how small it is!! or! or! not drinking your powerade unless you've scratched the sh**t out of its label?! or! or!....."

others just have "normal" habits:
clicking pens, cracking knuckles, chewing ice, imagining how strangers would be at sex...

i think the cutest one i've seen is by one of the most gorgeous girls i've met in my life; when she gets excited, she spirit-fingers her ears (flicking her ears with all her fingers). makes me smile.

WHOO! happiness for the rest of the day,
p.s. is it weird to count in your head by imagining your own fingers and counting them there...in your head?


i should've stared directly into her eyes and said, "you're disgusting"

a woman in her mid-mother years said to me without feeling at all,

"I'm sorry, but your dog shouldn't have been out anyway"

as i cradled her in my arms and rushed to the front door, yelling out my sister's name at the top of my lungs


fucking woman had no compassion at all, even after running over our 3 month old puppy.

how it would have even happened. This is what I don't understand.

she should not have been driving over 45km/h, she should have her senses heightened when on the road, she should know to keep her eyes on the road...

no such thing as slowing down is there? no such thing as waiting for the puppy to get off the road is there?

ok, yes, i made a mistake of not making sure that my parents never opened the garage door. yes, i made a mistake of being human and not keeping a close watch on my puppy 24/7 because i needed SLEEP.

but even if i made a mistake, she made the fucking mistake of not adhering to road safety rules and caution. she is in as much fault, and i feel, at more fault than i am.
at least I'm paying for my part of the mistake, emotionally and financially.
Yet, she gets to gleefully drive home with no consequence.

she'd better make sure she doesn't accidentally leave her kids outside. if she believes that my baby has no rights to the outside world, hers shouldn't either.


the face of 'Ms baby of the year'

There probably is a pageant for that...

i was walking by a "YAY FOR CHRISTIANS. JOIN US!" sidewalk outlet and a couple of things came to mind.
then it was the random thought of there being sex appealing girls promoting christianity, and how it's quite impossible as that is one of the things i believe they're very much against (to an extent), and well, it didn't help justify my thoughts to think otherwise when these girls looked like hollow human bodies that seemed to be life-less but eminating a glowing warm light.

LIKE A WOMB-BABY floating in body-space.
ooh you christians are a sneaky one at times...

ANYWHO. then it reminded me of a movie i just recently watched.
Whip it!
One of the most inspiring movies i've seen in a while- i haven't had the urge like this to want to skate for so long!

There was this one scene with Ellen Page as she's about to dive into the water, she scurries her paws in front of her like an easter bunny would discard of any evidence of eating chocolate;
and it was the CUTEST THING I HAD EVER SEEN full stop

it's quite cute seeing mature kids in that moment of being so innocent and adorable, without faking it.
it's an effortless form of humour.
i despise the faking. it would make me laugh sort of like how Cruela Devil would laugh. with utter hatred inside.

like how a certain genre of asian girls widen their eyes, puff out their cheeks and lips with the imitation of a stupid mole.

something small to think about,

irrelevant to the previous entry

"you know that thing when you see someone cute and he smiles and your heart kind of goes like warm butter sliding down hot toast? Well that's what it's like when I see a store. Only it's better."

Rebecca Bloomwood (Confessions of a Shopaholic) describes stores like the game of relationships.

The fluffles of butterflies while flirting, the exciting chase/hunt after you catch that third party glancing at your thang, muttering "game on" before you lunge at your prey and the last stage, catching "sex-on-legs".

It's the same process when i see that mannequin wearing the most adorable dress i've ever seen.
My heart starts racing as i imagine the days i would wear that dress, twirling around in circles on an autumn day-laughter, warmth and all that jazz
Then i catch that other girl pointing out to a friend- she's got an eye on my target and i am NOT letting her get it before me, not without a fight!

I'm power-walking like i've never walked before, classy-like of course. i can't let her know that i'm desperate...
and i LUNGE at the dress, searching frantically for my size...the race is on and i'm putting it on, i'm checking myself out...and bolt free of the change rooms, card out, arms waving in the air
i've won.

or have i?

Rebecca Bloomwood only mentioned the first half of the deal when it comes to the relationship of Me + Shop
don't get me wrong, i do agree with her...i love shopping...

not just for the fantastic feeling of walking into a room and immediately identifying the store as my new home, as i sit wherever i please, and wear everything that tickles my fancy.

not just for the ignorance and total blank out of others in my 'new house', the realisation that others could have worn what i was wearing, as well as the idea that there are so many more copies that someone else is already wearing outside.

The suspense of disbelief as servants are at your every whim (well, not EVERY whim; ho! ho! ho!); checking up on you, getting those sizes for my ogre feet, pretending not to play detective as to where that awful smell is coming from...

Or the daredevil feeling of undressing in front of mirrors, posing with your new-found clothes as if the mirrors would take photos of you...after checking the mirrors' state in dodgy places, as if every mirror would be a two-way, of course. Not to mention, you're getting naked, just like the next ladies 5 cm away from you.

And weirdly enough, i don't dislike shopping even with the awkward silence as you wait for the desk girls to push through the transaction; i'm only THIS close to owning it, it's right there...in their hands...those hands that take their sweet-ass-time *sigh*...they just don't understand.

But it's for this reason:
You come home, excited about your new babies that are going to make you look ABSOLUTELY gorgeous and feel more refreshed when worn in comparison to your 'old' clothes that used to give you this feeling.
What's even better is the thought of the new explosion of comments on how you look so freekin good - and who better to show than the closest person to you! so you run up to them, give them your cheesiest "guess what" look...

then it goes downhill.
The outfits seem harder to slip on and off all of a sudden, you feel like you've worn it all month, you start to realise all the sweaty, dirty, grimy bodies that may have rubbed all over your slightly-less-shiny-than-in-the-store dress, the price tag appears to have extra digits.
but this is what i find the most annoying...

everything you bought went down from ENDLESS BAGS OF AWESOME PURCHASES
to ONE dress, ONE belt and ONE BLOODY bobby pin.


i hate shopping!

S.O.F (stomping on floor),

P.S.(can you get herpes from wearing tight pants?)

P.P.S. i wasn't serious about the bobby pin being covered in blood...



hahahaha something hilarious happened to me...
but i'll tell you later..just to let you know i realised that i haven't posted for a month...so i'll make up for it.

i've got much to tells.


practise makes perfect

do you ever find yourself practising speeches....that aren't going to be graded?

i always do that; whether it's for a car lesson, a sick note, walking into a room to pass on a message from someone else...the list goes on

and today...
today i found myself in an elevator.

...making up an excuse for being in the elevator.

i had seriously considered and practised my speech to tell a 60(-/+)year old man "oh yes, the doctor says i should refrain from walking of my sprained toe".

not only would that be a lie, but...my toe?!
could i not have thought of saying ankle? shin? "my vessels will pop if i step on my skin"?
hahahahhah. maybe not the latter...i don't want to sound like i'm telling him my life story...

but what does that say about me?
am i lying just to make me acceptable in todays' society?
so that i don't seem like a lazy student who hates climbing up thousands of stairs in the morning EVERY day?

i should really count the amount of steps it takes me just to get onto 'ground' level...

which brings me back to the elevator subject...why is it ALWAYS so awkward being in an elevator with someone that you don't know?
thousands of questions...
so easy to answer.

buuuuuut i cannot be botheredness.

goodnight blogosphere~

the end is near!

the upcoming movie 2012 brought this topic up.
a customer was so convinced that it was true, spewing out facts and theories that connected so well with each other...
the world will end! our souls will be reinvented, refreshed and free! mayans! the bible! they say it all!

but here's my theory...

it's happening already.

damn laptop screen crack, the rings of death on my xbox, my xbox conTROLLER, my error screen on my nintendo dsi (with a $20 mailing fee), my 16GB classic ipod not responding! my ipod touch getting rained on! my smartrider charging me $10 to get to work (usually being 77c), internet quota being sucked to death with no link as to how or why...

ok, maybe it's not the end of the world, but it's the end of MY world almost.

keeping you posted,


if you could tattoo yourself

(pl.) vis vires.

force, power, strength, might,influence

you know yourself when you can think of one word to describe your entire self without sounding corny...unless of course the word is "corny".

or is it the other way around, and the one word that defines you is who you want to be known as?



this was brought up by a curious little eye, spying on a back-of-the-neck tattoo of a pretty little thing in the bus. vis vires it had splashed ever so neatly on the neck; and the hunt for the translation began.

Tattoo implants have long been a dream of mine. To have symbols and personal pieces of literature sprawled all over the intimate areas of my body...you know...like..my skin.
a constant reminder to everyone about who i am and the most important values in my life.
or even just the most influential words/pictures of people's lives.
whether it be the 10 commandments, a monologue from Fight Club, elvish conversations of the Middle Earth to "i wish i could
wengardian levio-this-ass-back-20-years"

but it the thought of a picture of my face sagging like a folded picture from MAD magazines into a erect penis-though chaaarming-isn't the type of tattoo i'd like my kids to actually catch a glimpse of.

"wow mum. you really did like them men"

so i constantly ricochet my thoughts on whether i should do the deed or not.

Conclusion: i decided to stick with correct lexis- double checking on foreign characters for misspellings or incorrect meanings. you don't want "may i please enquire for a cheeseburger?-lolcats" proudly displayed on your forehead thinking it'll be funny.

by the way, did you know that hullabaloo was an actual word? < : )3
more on that later.

with much curiosity,


fish soup, anyone?

no-one looked after the fish until a couple of days ago, and to their suprise, found two dead fish in out pond that morning.

judging by the alluring faeces-brown murky water and the sweet scent of maggot-filled rotten apples mixed with that fish-ey smell, those fish did not die anytime near the present.
what's worse was that the other fish were still swimming in that!
ewwww....dead friends blood in yer lungs!

SO, i did a noble act and decided to save my scale-y friends; but catching them was harder that i thought.
My noble gesture resulted in me having to have to unload bucketS of deadfish-water into the drain, which, at times, attached itself all over my legs. EW.

Once they were forced to surrender their disguises to me, i pulled them to (hopefully not their first) over-exposure of oxygen.

do you think over-exposure of air to fish is like being attached to a tank of Nitrous oxide (laughing gas), and that they're actually having the time of their lives?

i'd like that.

in the end, it took me two whole days to get the water out, settle the fish, renew the water and watch them get accustomed to their new-old-home.
just so i can write...

fish-thumbs (the piece-of-awesome that may be able to save your fish one day...cos i care)"

R.I.P fish 086 and fish 092

The bucket list

Things to do before i die:

-collect all 493 poke'mon. unless further poke'mon exist in such games ie platinum.

then...then, i don't know how many pokemon i should be collecting.

speaking of cartoons

that's right. pokemon.

i am going back to my childhood days, carefree from the restraining stereotypes of asians and playing pokemon.

yeah that's right. you heard me. i went to a porn pawn shop and bought the GREATEST game to have ever been created. with its simple graphics and recycled sounds and concepts, it still makes me sit up in bed at 5am in the morning whispering to myself...
i love pokemon.

i think i'm addicted.

the pokemon catcher (a.k.a, sexygrl69)

supermassive blackhole

this is why i was never any good with diaries.
i may start off well with my entries, and then a time gap gets in the way, then an even longer time gap; soon enough, the gap becomes a black-hole where time, space and conscientiousness are lost forever.
but you haven't completely lost all faith in me writing in this blog again have you?
black-holes. ptsch. honestly.

here's some exciting news to wake you up though. MY weeks in which my 'destiny' has conjured up for me has totally been watching reruns of captain planet lately.
IMPOSSIBLE you say. OUTRAGEOUS you believe.

i do like the monkeys...
but no.
let's begin the low-down.
that's right. fire at the workplace. mr arsonist thought it would be incredibly fun to light up a bin and send flames fuming into the ceiling, setting off the fire alarm so that *squeals* firemen would come to rescue us unFORtunate citizens who prefer to watch the last 30 minutes of their film, rather than saving themselves from the firey whips of the flames, whipping the air like it's its own bitch.
it doesn't get more exciting than that. oh, but it doesn't stop there.
that fire alarm which set off the sprinklers caused the drains to overflow and flood majority of the complex's area; so we had to use the power of, that's right...
...well more like...vacuum cleaners which specifically suck up water from carpets..
and that was just one night.
obviously destiny wanted me to stick all the planeteers powers together in one episode, but another holy being stopped that from happening. ah, such crazy humour these beings have.
because the next day, we had
the whole shopping centre had a blackout. all except our glorious cinema. it was so pretty. the dull lighting shining across the complex walls. the warm glow of each lightbulb. the pearl white teeth workers wore while effortlessly showing how badly they wanted to be at work that day,
i started to feel all romantic~

that's when i got thinking, all this captain planet stuff was pretty groovey. sign me up anyday for frequent power combustion to save my life from its evil boringness.
until i realised, i was missing one element.
horrible, horrible earth.
with its blasted gravity. dont' ask me how, but it did it.
a huge.
15 inch.
on my screen.

my belo-ved.

which ended my daily internet affair...for the while.
and yes, i am typing to you at the moment with screen colour leaks streaked across its face. bloody emo laptop.
soon...soon enough i'll take you to the rehabilitation centre. and you shall be free~

*dances away*

been a while hasn't it?
but almost every day i think of something i want to write here. kind of annoying when you know there was something, but you completely forget what you wanted to talk/write about.

like how lately, i've been thinking about P.S (Post Scriptum) which could range from one word to paragraphs after a letter.
i think it's beautiful.
i dont' know why... maybe because i watched P.S I Love You lately, or just the idea of how someone can get SO into their letters, that they leave something out-important or not.

or...i'm an IGNORANT FOOL! who hasn't really thought about what they had just said...
maybe the latter...


i had the privilege of listening to a deaf person speak today-though it wasn't my first time, nono; i had a gorgeous family last time who had but only a young daughter who could hear... or was incredibly good at reading lips, and she was signing to everyone in the family, making sure they all had something to order~

i wonder how you sign "raspberry fanta"...

anyway, this deaf person today was trying to sound what they thought would be the pronunciation to words. obviously they never refined it, seeing as they've never heard what they sound like..

but THAT had me thinking ..maybe it's just me, but when it comes to music (yes, i know it sounds like i'm off into a tangent, but i SWEAR it's got to do with it...somewhat...), how come we dont' think of sounds the same way we think of pronouncing a word? ....it's still a sound...

then i came across ->THIS <-

and it's most likely that if you were a to beatbox a tune as well as belt out lyrics to a song...you'd treat the lyrics as just...sounds right?
the whole idea of talking in tune brings out REVELATIONS!!!

hahahha ok, ok, i just pulled that word out of my ass, but i'm going to pretend it means what i think it means.

quite the crazy, i believe.

here's another crazy thought for you...i tend to always publish these at 1 or 2am. ok yes, the bloggernet says that my time is most likely 11am in the morning...or so i think blogger.com says so ... but here i am, looking at my clock, and it says 1:56. i'm tired of waiting for my video to post, so i'm going to leave you with the link and i'll try again with the uploading later.

ciaociao blogosphere!


-i think i'm in love with my mum.

i had the craziest talk with my mum today.
and she was still happy by the end of the conversation.
it was so weird.

it felt like i actually talked with my mum for the first time in 19 years, rather than zone out while she yells about everything i didn't do, which she's convinced that i have done, for 30 minutes straight.
and it wasn't just lovely subjects either.
cos she actually confessed that she knew i had been going out with my non-asian boyfriend before we even made it official with them. and that was like...1.5 years without telling them.
not to mention, i brought the dog to sleep in my bed that night, though it was a complete nono.
i'm still weirded out.

....still weirded out.
so we were talking about how the parentals were talking about how the kids are all grown up, we've all got our partners and moving out of our houses and all; and she was kinda irritated that the boyfriends would come over, which meant extra chores for some reason... though we dont' eat over or whatnot.
only my sister's boyfriend gets comfortable with the house, sleeps over, showers and whatnot.
whereas loverboy only stays for max an hour or so talking and ...werr...i blanked out on what he actually does when he comes over...cos we only just prepare for an outing..

and then it moved onto how, through her personal choice, she's disappointed that we dont' find chinese boys to become partners with, rather ( i, with my european lover) we partner with cultures which seem disconnected from her. i think she just really wants a family she can just comfortably talk chinese with; rather than struggle in english- understandable.

but yeah. i was still weirded out from her knowing about me and lovely for almost 3 years.
i'm even more weirded out with how nice she's been the last couple of weeks.

...i....i...i think i love my mom.

i think i'll buy her something real nice.


-still weirded out.

-all these men!

a possible-6-year-old got to second base with me today.
He ran towards the corners of the cinema corridor and smacked into me; one arms flung at my boob and the other went for my vaginarian heaven. crazy kid.
which brings me to kids these days- and i don't care if you're 17 and "all grown up"; you're still a kid if you don't know how to give a little respect to others around you and to your dignity.

all the tales of stupidity and annoyance i can list with the amount of kids who come into the cinemas just to watch a movie for the last couple of years...
the amount of sex that's been had, the amount of condoms left in the most awkward places, the amount of times i wanted to hack off their legs because they can't keep their feet off the chairs, the amount of time they disobey the "cinema being cleaned. please stay OUTSIDE of the cinema", the amount of hot chips that we have to hand pick and throw in the bin because people wont obey the "no hot foods" rule...the amount of times they'd rather pay $20 to listen to their own voices than the movie itself... the amount of times they try to sneak in, the amount of times they INSIST we took the money, when it's against policy to do so before getting food...
holy shit. it just keeps going.

but it's not just that. it's the hipocritical kids who do anything to please their flock. the kids who have sex with teachers twice...thrice their age even, and at illegal ages and say, "it's ok. we're in love". it's the kids who send edited pornography of teachers all around the world, the ones who don't think about the potential damage to lives of others..the ones who just ..don't think.


but not just that. mindless adults are also in the wrong. The rules, the exceptions, the damages, the ignorance. which reminds me. what kind of stupid prick thinks that up-ing the age of alcohol is going to stop any issues? up-ing the alcohol age, ups the bar age, ups the club age, downs the economy, downs the ability to drink and not-be-able-to-drive-anyway, ups the crime... urgh!

-okok, real blog.

i think i picked up a man today.
yay for today's equal rights and whatnot. wrong. i picked up a ginger man (not like gingerbread man) who was possibly 20 years older than me.


how the hell did that happen?! i don't even know.
there i was minding my own business at a bus stop getting drenched only once i stepped out of the rain shields- curse the revenge of the clouds on my childhood-weather-powers!

AND THEN! i got into a conversation with a man who was trying to find out the best way of getting to the shopping centre, and stupidly trained skills from my workplace to get talking to customers who are at LEAST 10 steps away from you, i started a conversation; from directions, to airplanes, to dogs, to birds, to bricks, to whatever else that probably springs to mind. yes, even pedophelia.
50 minutes later, we're parting, and i pull out my phone to call my loverboy and i say to mr. man, "it was a pleasure to meet you, good luck and whatnot" and he politely says the same, and says "we should have coffee sometime, call me".
5 awkward seconds later, i realise he's standing there because i have my phone out, and he's ready to give me his number.

oh kerplouski, you charmer, you.

what does "let's have a coffee" mean anyway? is it like someway for people to say

"fuck you're awesome to talk with! let's gets some caffeine in ya, and see how much you can say when your mouth is going apeshit"
◕ ◡ ◕
or like one of those

*arrives at doorstep* "would you like to come in for some c-*thrusts chest*-offee" *using coffee as some sort of analogy* •_•

and as much as i'd love for it to be the first case scenario. it's not the first time "old man", "said to me" and "coffee" can be stringed together in a sentence when it comes to me. take the time i was in the rain, yet again, looking for a present for my sister...yet again...OH MY HOSHTOSH! THIS IS LIKE A TOTAL REPEAT. *side tracked*
anyway, got talking to the man because it was raining stupidly *waves fist at weathers' revenge* and afterwards, sprung the sentence "are you of legal age?"

in the end, he meant, "oh fackin sweet! you're an awesome talker! hey, come by the swingin' cafe nearby and i'll treat you to some delicious coffee that doesn't involve a white van whatsoever, for i am completely harmless-here! here's a tazer gun and pepper spray just in case i do anything, i just think you're a SPLEEENNNNDDIIIIID person"
but yeah.

sorry about the random faces (i.e
(ಠ_ಠ)), i just stumbled across these and found them flippin sweet. not to mention how well it goes with my face 50% of the time when i'm not

did you know..
i actually know a guy who's face is stupidly like
he's quite annoying.. and i don't want to say it's because of the face, but.....71% says....๏̯?!




I love having friends-I really do; but I cloud myself in a delusional world that I can trust whom I believe to be my friends to be...my friends.
I even go to lengths of altruism to please them and get to know them; but when my delusional world has power failure and I come to my senses, I end up seeing how I was just that little bonus to people’s lives- Like the random kind act from a stranger that you love, but don’t do anything for in return.

And I think it’s just because people think of it as natural for me to do this, being that I am, that it’s not me going out of my way to get it done for them.

I do make it difficult though, even I make it hard for myself to understand whether I am naturally happy, or if I do it automatically to prevent myself from becoming ‘normal’-but it’s not masking who I am.
I don’t know what it is, people conform to everyone else’s ideas and when they’re depressed it’s always, “it’s like I put on a mask for everyone everyday” because they want the attention or they’re afraid of being themselves, it’s maybe a symptom of depression, it’s already too late...

So what do I do in times like this?
I don’t think there’s anything else I can do but let it be what it is. I shall continue to call them friends and yet know that I only have two. Who already occupy another status. DAMMIT


-hey. why not?

The world of words, a universe of discourses; re-coined in 2002 by William Quick.
who would've thought, after several semesters of media and the web, i would end up with a blog

i've been wanting to do this for so long now, i can't remember why i didn't- oh that's why.....
i procrastinated.

well here i am, 3 am in the morning after a quickly dissolved conversation on destiny.
oh god, another pathetic emo-child, you say; but maybe i'll blog on that another day.
today...we speak of Destiny.

i dont' find myself a firm believer of destiny, but someone else did, and so this feud was brought up:

[me= purple, other= pink]
"destiny isn't predicting the future"
"no, it's telling it!"

"not really.
since destiny would change every so often, the "telling of the future", wouls be very vague.
say for example "you would live a rich life, and die miserably"
you could become very wealthy from being a business man or some sort, and because of that, be gunned down in front of your family
you could know that you're dying of a untreatable, rare disease because, so you make every living moment left of your life as fulfilling as you can before you die
but that's not destiny. That's just making a vague prediction of your life"

"ahhh, i guess you'll not understand it then, shame


destiny is dependant upon your past, it's focus (the place where you're going) is a culmination of what's happened in your life, and what you're capable OF doing
your subconcious mind brings you the things that you truly need and desire, not those that you superficially REQUIRE!
its a process that's been written, but you cant read it, you have to feel it... live it, and then, and ONLY then can your subconcious take you in the next phase of life
it happens everyday
it's not routine, destiny puts you there for a reason, a reason controlled only by your subconscious
you cant change destiny, you may think you can and have, but in reality, any change you make is simply following the contours of your destiny ready written
there is, however, ways you may estimate your destiny, in respects to certain things

its likely to be true, because you will tell you subconcious so many times the same thing over and over, though you may not even realise it, that through fate and faith, it might, MIGHT just happen to occur, thus bending the rules of what destiny will do eventually

"well see, you define destiny as a post-determined future.
when i define 'destiny' as a pre-determined future"

"no, this is what i said "its a process that's been written" that's PRE also"

"pre-determined as in, yes, it leads you along a certain path to get to a point in your life that is "predicted"
but post-determined as in, "oh, everything you're doing now is causing what will happen, because of your actions""

"exactly, because life is a progression of events, events that have already been defined, you're simply living them through, and THAT'S how you can understand them"

" progression does not exist unless some goal is defined.
but if you don't know your goal, how is it progression?"

"destiny IS the goal! that's where everyone's headed toward"

" but you don't know your destiny.
so it's not a goal."

"its a goal your subconcious knows, because it uses faith to follow the larger power, destiny"

" and your subconsciousness understands faith without consciousness?"

AAAAANNNND then it goes on to a whole bunch of crap about earth's crusts/core and human bodies as the superficial state that the subconscious mind and destiny controls- also something about Feeling destiny.take that sexually or metaphysically.

ok, so maybe it's just me, but how did Destiny become so many contradictions in itself?
and who/what determines what our destiny is? seriously, how can you say that your destiny is predetermined, and yet say that every action you make next from whence you existed is what is forming your destiny? Because i call that the "Make your move and suffer your consequences" theory.

Destiny is just for people who like to soften the blow of some stupid thing that happened as a greater god's true form of being by making sure that event actually happened for some greater good. grow up.

anyways, that conversation ended with "very cold night, wouldnt you agree?" ahahhaah.
what does everyone love about deep and meaningful conversations anyway?
is it a way to continuously expell your 'deepest' feelings that you
"never tell anyone, but weirdly enough, only you" *puckers lips*
or just a way to secretly make them fall in love with you for who you really are?

i like argueing as a form of getting to know someone; especially how passionate they get about the topic.
SEXY. < >: ) 3
ahaahah, weirdly enough, what i first argue about becomes the thing that brings us really close to each other. but let's note that some other day, when i shouldn't be sleeping.