I'm on fire.

I can just feel my brain burning up while the rest of my body shivers. I'm sick of getting MC already. I need to be used productively!

I wish I could be a dancer.

The Twillight Sad - I Became A Prostitute from TLOBF.COM on Vimeo.

If anything, I think my time in the army has taught me that I can be stupidly persistent in attempting to achieve goals. To the point where I risk injury to the self. That trait, can be applied outside the army as well. Like a dumb as fuck bull plowing straight on to happiness!

Duty.

This heard, after much staring at my chest. "Eh, Chan la. Maciam Melayu seh!"

At which point, I promptly made it known that I had seen her staring at my chest, overheard their conversation and settled their argument about my race. What, who says that you can't talk to the people you're supposed to herd? Being in uniform doesn't mean I can't smile and make small talk with the people heading up into the stands. It's much easier than simply being stoic and pointing your arms in the same general direction for two hours.


Now, my shoulders and calves are destroyed thanks to the combination of clubbing and duty immediately after. I can only walk like a penguin, I can't raise my arms properly and I'm sun burnt like crazy. Oh, the things I do for this country.

Because I Would Burst If I Didn't.

This might seem entirely pointless but this is for my own reckoning. I would positively explode if I didn't do something. It seems extremely pathetic that I would need to resort to doing this to gain some release, but it does help and some things can't be told to other people. It simply works like that.

But anyway here goes, oh my fucking god WOW.

It's things like this that imbue so much false confidence in my self, that I currently feel almost confident enough to survive a leap of the balcony window. One day, when I'm feeling good enough about myself I just might decide to test my perceived immortality. And, we all know how that's going to end.

Song.

Ooh, to be effortlessly beautiful.

It is nice to pretend.

But in the end, it doesn't really stand for anything. Still, it is nice to dress up and pretend that it all really matters because you never know what the power of imagination might conceive. And, like all things magic you simply need to believe and wonders will spring from nothing.

Just so.

Because the mind is a powerful thing, and if you think and wish hard enough with all your might, your thoughts might come true. If you work hard enough at it, you can fool yourself so that you believe anything and just so, what your mind believes to be true is all that matters.


Now hush, and don't say it out loud. Otherwise, they would know and they might make it come true.

Boléro

I just realised I answered the postman's call as a dishevelled half naked man with Bolero loudly ricocheting off every single wall in the home.

I wonder what the post man thought.

Escalate.

Like: Bouncing jauntily in my chair screaming that 'I can't get (no) satisfaction!' knowing full well that I don't mean it. It could be because I'm back in camp, or because I've decided to embark on this monumental task so whole heartedly that success would be absolutely fabulous, while failure will not be an issue. Well, people have misconstrued my self as charming, on occasion. Which although extremely flattering, I'm not sure I believe.

We'll see how far that takes us.


And, it seems like I've been cursed to be in a perpetual state of not having money.

Ugh. I spent about 15 minutes cursing and smiling to myself after leaving
the hospital. It's a combination of the kind of insanity being in the
hospital causes and my own weird way of coping with extreme disappointment.
3 effing months. Tsk.

Heartache.

And I don't mean the metaphorical kind where I'm suffering from tremendous emotion due to a girl and my ineptitude/inability with people. I'm talking about literal heartache, intermittent stabs of pain and all. Which may or may not be related to psychological conflict brought about by long sustained bouts of pining, which is very, very, foolish behaviour.

However, it has been ages since I've been so excitable about. Well! Heck, it's been a a long time since I've been this obsessed, but then again that could be due to the fact that I've been kept at home for the past two months with energy just bursting out of me in multi coloured sprites with nowhere to be channelled.

Then again, my recent run of fortunes could see this heartache land me in the hospital with some crazy complications of the heart. Fighting for dear life, how's that for purpose, unbridled energy? Oooh, this is insane.

How to be happy.

-Do stupid things.

-Worry less.

Good for a few hours. Pray for best, after. Ooh, I'm so fascinated but clueless.

Temporary Measures.

Tom Jones - If He Should Ever Leave You - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

Grinning ridiculously, if only life felt this good. Tom Jones, you lovely lovely, sexy beast. Old and greying, you're more sexy than ever.

LYRICS HERE

I know this place is fucking gloomy and there's a good reason for that, but that's something I feel like keeping to myself a wee bit longer. Here is, however a pretty foil to the overall mood of this place and I hope it's as good for you as it was for me.



I would like to assume that it's a fairly accurate description of my status quo. Also, the song makes me giggle like a little girl. It's mind blowingly good, and it touches all the places that people never knew existed.

I cannot do pushups.

The left wrist is so stiff that it feels similar to before it got locked up in it's fibreglass cage. Including my current medical certificate, I would have been given 76 days of hospitalization leave in total. Which is not as fantastic as many people would make it out to be. 76 days of despondency, without purpose-fully fit but useless, without a good excuse to feel miserable.

It's been a great opportunity to take stock of life. Truth be told, I think my life has a very bleak long term outlook. I need to work on the whole personal relationships thing. If anything, I learned that I'm pretty good at ignoring nearly everyone I know for extended periods of times because I CAN. It's actually a pretty simple matter of mental discipline.

Which isn't good. Because things happen and people's lives play out when you're absent. Which is really shitty when you find out from another friend whom you've been ignoring for the longest period of time that horrible shit has transpired in said person's life which really makes you feel like crap because good friends are supposed to be there for each other.


Spending so much time not bothering about other people, make it difficult when I want to achieve a result to the opposite. Which has lead me scrambling to remember all the ridiculous things that other people used to pull when they showed interest in my person which is bad reference material because obviously none of it worked before.

It's terribly troubling. Dear god, I am agnostic and as such belief in your existence(s). I have been respectfully faithful in the manner of my parents' choosing and I would like a favour. You have shaped me in such a manner where I'm mildly obsessive and ruthlessly efficient in achieving quantifiable goals. Could you help me and deliver a way to quantify this qualitative issue? I would prefer a well documented instruction manual, preferably with the title 'How to be likable and sustain said likability' something to that effect. I'm sure you'll be able to pull off the literature with more finesse.

Please God? I'll owe you, think about it okay?

This foolishness will cease soon. And all that is left is the last remnants of adrenaline flushing itself out of the blood and the hunger to recapture that feeling. In other news, my hand has finally managed to escape from the fiberglass cage that was a cast. Now, I have a horribly weak left hand, stiff and lacking in power decorated by scabs, dead skin, wild patchy hair and the occasional raw skin.

What's fantastic however, is that apparently the fracture's 'closed' even if I the hand feels stiff and still aches when disturbed. At the very least, I get the clean my hand now.


Soon enough, return to FULL FUNCTIONALITY!

They all tell lies.

Existential Crisis- The Status Quo May Change

Behind this exterior, there lies someone who is extremely timid and is bursting to grab a neck and start wringing. It's remarkable. I overstep my authority with ease and without care but, there are just so many little things that would enrich my person that I need so much coaxing to even dare dream of doing.

Ridiculous.

-

You know, I've been out of this courtship process for years and now I don't think I can quite remember how to go around doing it again. Shit, and my handphone has been ruined by the rain beyond savable measure. I can only foolishly wish that this is payment for more beautiful things to come.


I'm such a sucker.

And I'm in love.

And she's such a lovely girl

It's fleeting but an amazing feeling. And it was a pity that we missed the first part of the set. It's moments of brilliance like these that occur ever so rarely that makes life bearable. Ooh, the wonders of the sweet, sweet ideas of romance.

I would spend my time chasing it if I knew what it was, but unfortunately I make do with these little snippets of other people's stories until I'm completely lost in one of my own.

The Cure For Misery

Git me some of that.

And this.




Everything in between can be handled by sighs of resignation and sleeping. Oooh, if only I were someone magical. The things I would do.

Pretty Girls Are The Bane of My Life.

So are fickle technologies. But sleepless nights and exhaustion are dependable friends, like Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. Exhaustion comes hand in hand with mild delirium and is a fantastic mistress!

Weird Fright Of People!

In Secondary School, I'd like to believe that I was the weird antisocial kid with an attitude. I never 'hung around' after school and still refuse to do so, I never made much of an issue with popularity and acceptance by conventional norms. Quite the contrary I was constantly late for School and made it a point to constantly challenge authority figures in School when I assumed they were behaving foolishly. In the final year of Secondary school, I was in the top class and the it was routine that I should either sleep, take long walks in between classes, talk to the guy sitting beside me- whom I might have considered a very good friend then, but have never contacted upon graduation.

Strangely enough, I believe I was moderately popular. I serve as head of a co circular, student leader, and was a recognized face in school. I think being a grumpy motherfucker who didn't bother to fraternize but was outspoken and mildly eloquent.

Having left that world behind for four years now, I am now paranoid and exist in a slightly altered version of our reality designed to shield myself emotionally from the perceived failures of the past and present. When a crack in that reality occurs when people become generally interested or nice, I respond the only way a weird ass motherfucker knows-with panic. Especially when the person hearkens from the time when I was a Secondary school student. The very memories of that institution invokes feelings of hope and power and happiness.

What I don't like however are the people who are nice to me. More often, when I'm uninterested and non-reciprocal people end up with the foolish idea of persisting in breaking down barriers to the point where I manage to become ignorant of said person through the merit of disinterest.

It's the way I work. It's wrong, I know. I need help!

What the fuck.

I have lost 3995 music files that were stored on the computer. Agony! You're a horrible friend.