: gave a bowl of milk to a white stray cat with a decapitated body. it then morphed into a seven year old girl who claimed my husband to be her boyfriend. then went for a short daytrip across the causeway. returned and stopped by the most expensive shabby furniture shop that sold plastic laundry baskets ranging from twenty to thirty dollars. :

what is there to listen to these days.
you wanna share?

this is/was not a dream.
not a tangent from the subconscious.
just a little thought hanging from a fine thread...
falling...descending....into...nothing.

it has reached the climax.
where one is able to contain any further.
and what other outlet do i have?
but the enemy.
be with the enemy to run from the enemy.
but of course.

a certain course of fate has made me question constantly
about our way of communication.
and what we achieve from it.
our form of success and content.

this is what we have been reduced to.
these fine minute irrelevancies which are deemed relevant.
and if we submit.
we are in the club.
we belong.
we are in 'the loop'.

making a big deal out of nothing, am i now?
but at least it does not kill me if i am not updated.

see observe.
hear listen.
touch feel.
taste savour.
smell.

invalids. that is what you are.

p.s. me singular you plural. remember?

---

listen to chefs with bad accents.

: we had dinner at substation which had turned into a gourmet restaurant. initially opted for a la carte but then mother said the buffet selection was not too bad. vegetarian buffet. weird salads. interesting dips. fake bacon biscuits with peanut butter and caramel sauce. and a whole lot of cheese. was then brought to a supposed buddhist temple. had to make some weird offering to a god by blowing off the salt off a date onto a strange poster stuck on wooden board with shelves. then you had to keep splashing salt onto an altar which supposedly would ward off evil. :

the world turns in marvellous ways and brings strange tidings.
they twirl and twine around you.
do you allow yourself to struggle?
do you know what it is like to breathe?

i hate my computer and i want to die.

addendum: i don't feel like dying anymore but i still hate my computer. but not as much as i did earlier. and i hate its recent psychological and physical effects on me. and that affects me in ways more than one. i have started to pay more attention to my notebook and giving it more notice. however, i have not been bold enough to make the first move. typical me. unless i'm at the edge of a cliff and someone says tick tock.

my dreams are not as vivid except for the time where i was taught how to make french toast using peanut butter and salt.

"...looking forward to living forever..."

: last day of high school before finals. had to watch a performance in the school hall. some girl tripped over the stage, spinning around in her sari and no one gave a damn. was annoyed with some kid from another class who kept bothering me. a lift home from a classmate and discovered that bothering kid was my neighbour. overly anxious with finals because i had not been studying physics nor chemistry. met another classmate in the bus and we talked about midgets. i said that midgets were just like us and they did 'normal' things and they had'normal' feelings and he said his dad was a midget. some other kid told him that his mom was then 'scare white' and he got an absolute beating for that. too much blood in the bus. then i ran home to watch spiderman. :

then i woke up.

listen to paul dempsey.

: part I. went to see the beatles and they performed most of their hits except strawberry fields forever which was an absolute shame. then went for the meet and greet session but john and ringo had gone to eat. george was busy chatting with one of the roadies and i was stuck with sir paul but he was rather chatty so that was alright. part II. mom's friend came over to visit and i had to accompany her to a supermarket and i met her daughter and her daughter's friend and they were just plain weird. part III. drove an army truck around KL city and got stuck on a path which turned all video game like and suddenly red motorcyclists appeared out of nowhere and i lost control and couldn't hit the brakes on time which sent me down to a deep, dark hole. but i didn't die. :

you see that greener grass over there.
go fuckn eat it.

'i felt one eyelid twitch in irritation. why do so many people start their messages with "it's me"? of course it is you. we all know that. but who the hell ARE you?' - darkly dreaming dexter by jeff lindsay pg 131.