Hello decemfuckingber I’m going to say goodbye to you very soon. Well January isn’t that promising but a man can always hope for the better in an attempt to pass another day, can he? It has been awfully long since I last blogged and it is not that I am lazy but after being in the glamourous organization, my flair for writing has been robbed by the greens ( leaves, forest, combat rations) and browns ( mud, soil, decomposed leaves) and blacks ( centipedes, creepy crawlies that have legs more than I can use my toes and fingers to count). So tonight, after a failed proper conversation with MELB, I decided to blog. Prolly this will induce some sleeping molecules to go up my brain to switch me off before I’m off to Europe to join the pandas due to the beautifully dark circles under my eyes. Hmm I’m thinking of where I should start. Well it is going to be all about me me me me and me.
Hmm this MELB issue. It is so weird. Never had I displayed such an interest for someone for that long without making any dodgy advances. I daydream about many things. I can’t stop thinking of the future. Ok, daydream about the future. Because by saying ‘ thinking’ implies I have some solid foundation firstly to extrapolate the happiness graphs. I merely daydream and wish upon the wishing star which I have never seen. Well, maybe this MELB ends at nowhere because it simply has not started. On the other side, after all these while, we are still talking. If it is just some random act to pass time then we won’t be contacting each other given how many time zones we are away from each other. So no verdict yet but I must say this MELB has been nice to cheer my crappy mood up credits to the ugly cast crafted by the inferior and incompetent medical personnels that this beautifully S-shaped country never fails to churn out, just like how the fucking cows churning out their half-digested grass. That’s a long sentence I am aware but that’s also my sentiments for the health care industry here which won’t change for another 10 million light years ( Big Bang Theory much).
My body has been becoming a grotesque mass of fats and toxins due to my sedentary lifestyle. You can neither blame or judge me, with this foot, I can barely scrub myself let alone running to lose those late night snacks resulting from being emotional from tear-jerking shows. Jerking hur hur hur . So I just hope that I would be free from this cast before the Lunar new year else I am going to be as depressed as Adele. I feel so strange about this year. I am not worried about finding what to do or whom to go out with. Safe to say, this year, regardless of where I am, I have a valid reason to be at home doing whatever I like which is not sex in case you are wondering. How I hate to submit to peer pressure or social stigmas. They are just a bunch of bullcraps filled with hypocritical messages. Boys should get flowers and carry both flowers and girls’ purses while being on dates. No link but WTF is that? Uniquely Singapore. I miss that place a bit even though my favorite stretch now is submerged in water again. I’m wondering if any of the items on my not only Christmas but eternal wish list is floating. Say delicious goodies in orange paper bags or brown or white with black wordings or black in white wordings and a flower attached are floating, I would be calling my troop to claw all the China pumpkins to snatch them and UPS overnight for me. I have faith in my minions. Hur hur hur. You see what I meant by daydreaming. And my eyes are so strained after typing this I can’t figure what is displayed on the screen that I have to put on glasses. I’m officially old, listening to so against mainstream uncool music at the moment. Everyone is like dancing to Nicki Minaj and I’m like spinning Amy. That girl produced cuntastic music while high like a rocket in the sky. Maybe I just have a thing for British pop due to the growing up period showering with love from Westlife, Boyzone, A1 ( hopefully one of them is from the UK to have some link), the Beatles or Blue. I don’t know but they are pretty good in my humble opinion. And Atomic Kitten ( cue you can make me whore again). Only pop fans will know. Sometimes I am scared of fame. Not that I’m earning or having any at the moment or even in the future. It is a scary thought wondering what happened to Gareth Gates or Darius. They are still alive I truly hope. We all at least know what happened to Spice Girls or Sugarbabes or Stephen Gately (sad).
By the time I am reaching here, Smooth Jazz tribute plays Leona’s The First Time ( Ever Saw Your Face). Honestly I don’t really know what to do if there is no such thing defined as music in this insanely mad world we are co-existing. In my mind, music is best paired with human companion and the second is the pitter patter rhythm of the rain and thunders and winds. Tried and tested and approved by her Royal Highness. The effect is exponentially multiplied. I can’t conclude clubbing materials. Clubbing can pair with alcohol and cigarettes, not rainy mood or sound. That is such a turn-off like the smell of marinated fish sauce that my father has consistently shown an undying love for. It appears in every lunch and dinner and sometimes, in my dreams. I don’t hate it. But I’m not a fan of any strong smelling salted fish blood. I want all my food to be cooked properly or if raw, Japanese seafood appetizers.
To usher the new year 2012, Tyra Banks is gracing the finale of her Top Model franchise. She is properly trying to regain her declining fame due to a bad all-star season. Maybe she can pose with the lotus or banana or sticking out her tongue absorbing the sweetness of the rice in the middle of a padi field wearing rags labelled as haute couture. Honestly, nothing beats Australian TV shows, look at Masterchef, Top Model ( minus Sarah Murdoch screwing the finale- not funny girl), Amazing Race. The models really walked the runways and graced Anna Wintour’s fruit of hard labour. None the less, I am so going to watch how all these local judges and fashion industry people converse to Queen B in English. I won’t promise that I won’t laugh but I will try. Oh Christian is opening a boutique here on Christmas, not Monsieur Dior but Hollywood Louboutin. Giant is opening and so is Guardian. It looks like Singapore spirit follows me whenever I go. I’m not complaining. One day I will go to Giant to buy Revlon nail polishes, not to paint on myself but to reminisce the ol’ fun times.
Anyways, I haven’t had time to do a resolution for 2012. It is a tradition for me to do one every year but somewhere along the way, I can’t be fucking bothered due to unforeseen circumstances. Really who would have thought that organization is not giving the red packet even after I fucked off. Sometimes I can’t believe I pulled through such a stunt. I am pretty proud myself, including the hours spent at hospitals receiving compliments from both male and female doctors. Yes both sexes. Maybe in order to settle down I need to be a nurse. Hur. Je ne sais pas. Back to the resolution. This year, against tradition I will only have one instead of 2000 millions like every year. To be much better at decision making. 2011 was bad because of bad decision making. That is why disasters happened and I won’t allow anything like that happen. DEAD SERIOUS. shudders. What did you do, Monsieur Tran?
Note to self : Vent anger about shitty who called himself best friend.
Yours always and forever,
