So chinese new year is in the air and I am not looking forward to the festive celebration at all. I am going to be older which means that more responsibilities and more duties are stacking up on my shoulders. Chinatown was so crowded and I guess the next time I head down will be after 2012. Three weeks before the new year and there is an exodus right in the heart of chinatown. And I kid you not when I say an exodus. Everyone was there in all the skin tones more than you can ever imagine. I could barely breathe thinking that at any moment some peasants would step on my Zegna. I know I shouldn’t be complaining about this but I seriously didn’t know it was all drizzling and Chinatown was having a little crowd controlling problem.
Now there lies the problem with getting new year clothes. I must get a white long sleeved or something in mandarin collar in off white or pale beige this year. Well if I can spot it, that will be ideal. Or the deviation should not be too extreme with red or black as that will not match nicely with the grey pants I bought before Christmas and I haven’t even unpacked. Hopefully I can get into those pants just like that day when I tried on and admired how long my legs looked. This shall call for an intensive diet.
Talking about diet and exercise, the organisation has been the number one biggest BITCH on planet Earth with Celine Mofo being right at the frontier. It is filled with repetitive nonsensical antics that no amount of words can be used to aptly describe. Imagine scenes after scenes of bullshit are being unfolded right in front of your precious eyes and literally make you blind. I am pretty numb with the organisation and now I understand how painful Iraqi women felt most of the time and why they were triggered to swallow valium the way I spent my money. I means the never ending torture that they can think of, they will throw it in your face one right after another. The only time that they give you a rest is actually when you are warded, if you manage to. A rarity that noone is doing anything about it given how animalistic and barbaric some of they have been. Wait till you get into the organisation, boys. They can make you feel like you are suspended in the air from monday till friday and they can either let you down safely or simply cut the rope and you will plummet to your death. It is that drama. And I KID you NOT.
My skin has been nothing but acting like a crazy slutty teenager who’s trying to run away with a cracked boyfriend. One moment it is all oily and right now, the area from the nose and down is all very dry and flaky. First time ever. And no matter how hard I try by slapping on layers and layers of cream, the dry skin is here to stay. That doesn’t mean that the pimple scars are gone. This new year I will actually look better if I can manage to find a shirt that cover half of my face. Oh thanks to the organisation that I have the best hair style too. I don’t understand why the fuck they just couldn’t accept the fact that if someone weren’t invited to join their awesome R&R trip, they would be spared from donning the most fucked up hair do on Earth. The whole shaving is pretty bullshit and I’m not buying their stories. What looks like the much need kindred spirit, from my perception, it is simply an act of atrocity and the heartless act of stripping human rights. So now my hair is still as awesome as ever. It looks like bird’s nest. Not the saliva kind that Fann Wong slurps like we mere mortals drink water, but the kind that looks like a basket of mess. It is upsetting that the new year is around the corner and my hair isn’t growing exponentially.
Saturday was such a fucked up day too. How I wish sometimes I could just pluck some courage and show you the real me.
Well what can I ask for more ? It is Sunday and I’m going to book in and I have no idea when I can lie on this bed typing furiously again.
Goodnight world! You have been pretty bitchy to me. That is not very naise you know, given how devoted I am to you.
Ps. Cinderella, now I understand how you feel when the clock strikes midnight. But I think Prince Charming is just another pig in disguise. So darling, wake up your idea before I wake up yours! Your partner should be those glass slippers.