pw has got to be the worse thing ever. my body clock fiercely lugs my to sleep while my fingers splay over the keys, typing nonsense and saving files under second draft.doc. am dying. returned home to project work madness. and the moon is so pretty tonight. orbit of orange around yellow. mooncake yolkless traditional redbean. fish. guat ching guat ching guat ching. is there no tupperware which i can project work terminator promos econs econs helen tan wage i have already seen the fall of india. and thereby availability and durability of the commodity is extremely important. pakistan. the interregnum of the jap occ marked why do some say there isnt any improvement. sixth avenue, dunearn road. di love of my life. basketball dark no ball. floorball price floor minimum wage. and how will the difference plague one with such unremitting aches. stash of poems in folder. hardly soft copy must be the wave. im mistaken. there is something worst than pw. its rambling, without actually knowing which exact thread of thought one would have it sent forth. shrunken into such insect-like existence.

this is the night that makes me or fordoes me quite.

candy i gotcha. here i breathe.
the week has been reeling like an overused polaroid film. sceneful, and over. fear lies implicitly within, without, besieging my frame like medieval venturers. shit piss drat. promos is like this tumour, you know. damn painful to think bout it. revision is never picking up, hello. pick up you damn twerp. on an entirely different note, school has been pretty neat. cos there are things like floorball basketball track. (:

just came back from snmaf. ate mooncakes and tausarpiahs. then lion dances were too drummish and loud as finical dancers leapt aloft to the reverberations of hogsheads. and so, glen&yanhan&i we slipped off. hoho. junior stayed behind to mug and girlfriend and i we went fer dinner. then we happily plopped ourselves before this nokia machine. and grooved to polyphonics. spent like an hour there my goodness, no really. cab beckons. we are beckoned. and tada, am home. yet another box of mooncakes finds its way on my dining. its got lovely brown skin but but BUT theres yellow stuff inside. eeyer. i like lotus paste on its own. like you know, purely brown. swanky. i got yanhan special chocolate gummies and that sweetee got me yolkless mooncake ! traditional ! i love that president. (:

mother says i need to be more focused cos she deduced that i spend my time writing on peoples arms cos she saw my bloodred forearm, on which is sprawled "ILOVEFIRAS ". that stupid shit. then she was like, if you like drawing on yer arm then you must really consider what you want to do etc. my goodness im sure i wanna be an arm writer. besides, its that idiot who ravaged my arm. -growls.
father says wake up early on sunday, we're going fer army half marathon run. okay.

am feeling extremely bloated. like distended. -barfs. i need a. pump to pump out contents. must be jollibean. all the curd. go a-wheyy. theres southzone tmr. shall go and sleep. am way tired. looking at moons absorbs yer energy, i suspect.
ciao wanderers, catch y'all on the midnight train to georgia.

japanese lady on japan hour dips her kinki fish into liquor before putting it into her mouth. pizza boy drives away after delivery. 2 messages received. dews of condensation conglomerate on the silver tea jug. a single thread, tickled by wind, boogies by the window. brother's skippy lunchbox. beautiful gregorian voices from neighbors unit drop by our air.

have taken to observing more and shooting off less. too much talking has inevitably got me tired, and miffed. so im just gonna hear, stoically, and go off. unless she says something even remotely relevant, or anything worth my attention. cos ive got no attitude problem so maybe she's got a perception problem.

who's the adult and who's the child.
-throws you a life jacket.

firstly,some replies to my dears. (:

partna !
hahah 'he' is this wakeboarder who frequents where i have my water training. damn hot bod ! but image's tainted by his -eulk, cigarette, like, yucks lahh. hahah i still love ya more 'know. yes yes wanna see you sooon. :/
chang !
i miss you plenty too twin. sms me the minute you touch down okay, and i mean like touch down. then we can go & play & sing & laugh & be silly all over again, & all'll be lovely, with ya (: -grins.

-yawns.
have absolutely no idea why im up so early. maybe twas the phone call, at seven thirty. -shrugs. couldnt get back to sleep anyway, so i happily sat at my desk, and finished psycho, by robert bloch. oh my -shudders. tis really unnerving. but but but authors need to find a better way to end their tales. same goes fer dan brown, the unravelling process is fantastically thrilling, but then it ends, and leaves you half bemused and largely despairingly disappointed. but, psycho is definitely engaging, like, a lighter version of angels&demons. yayy now i can proceed with falling leaves, though i'd very much prefer to go get psycho II, shall go racque WRL laterr fer it. (:

am supposed to be bushed. reached home at 0015 last night/morning from kayhian's place. credit all of that fourteen hours to pillowfights/bowman/tonti e/mushroomsoup/crooning/p sycho/dartboarding/tablet ennis/mamee/AKA PW. ehh we had work done, naturally. from ten am to 12 midnight, thats something allright. work done after firas left, agreed. that moronic twerp was what sparked off the pillowar. & then though play was the dominant activity, twas an extremely productive session. come on, midnight ehh, no joke.
tis queer, watching the crowds morph by gradation as the clock hands transcend. morning crowds are rushed, freshlooking, others dreamy-eyed, most purposeful, some deadened, few chirpy. the midnight horde is far more exciting. you get a good mix of the sleepy, the hyper, the bad boys/girls, the industrious workers, the all-nighters, and of course, the one who had to do pw. but nocturnal's good, tis fun. the transition from night to day is enthralling, in a nice way.

am off to WRL to see the sistersandthedaniel. they're so mad that thinking bout their company already gets my nerves wrought and jumpy. who, today still needs coffee ?
 

drats.
tblog just tdeleted my tpost just like that. twerp.
oh well.
the web of intricacies is far from being impeccable.
forgiven.
i think a something is stuck in my throat.
i always knew there was something weird about those japanese snacks. now all is lovely,
ive got a pea in my oesophagus.
and this is one hot pea.
s[i]aiyoh[/i]nara.
i love him lahh, but he smokes. how how. : (