oo my. there's been a subtle shift in things over this ginormous gap between dates of being completely devoid of any feeling whatsoever. no wait, that ain't true, the feeling is there, it's always fucking there despite new and improved policies that forgive but never-in-a-million-years forget. policies that melt facial idiosyncrasies to neutral aspects of self-hypocrisy. hope hope hope hope hope hope is a terrible, yet an undeniable melting pot of our most ugliest, yet most purest emotions, ironically (or not?) like the choir boy's euphonious stage-call to a grumpy, but cuddly messenger of the Gods.
was this drunken night the same as other drunken nights? superficially it was exactly the same, except perhaps a bit more extreme. nothing more than passing absolutely shit judgment on timing and pace of absolut kurant AND absolut classic in less than NINETY minutes...
but i wonder... in this day and age of delusion and denial.. how would i really know how it really is in my mind? does it even matter? i mean, if you cannot feel it, and the only way you are able to find out is through some psychiatrist who has completely based his life on the study of psychiatry (which although a very noble profession is still very imprecise medically), then maybe what you yourself feel should be given more weight? well it's just a thought.. of course unless i'm irrevocably crazy... don't think so.. not yet anyway.. haha.. drama mama is what people call me.. well u ain't met my mama yet!!
facial idiosyncrasy took on more meaning than ever with bloody cuts on nose and a wound just below my nose which by the way, a stupid pimple decided it would be a good spot to grow on! woo hoo! kinda strange i view pimples as living, breathing things.. oh but they are the little fuckers..! (little my ass)
apart from that, i submit an article to my editor for the on-campus publication.. and going from history alone, my kick-ass article have never been chosen.. instead, the slightly bimbotic, casual comedy ones have.. so i decided that since i was too busy doing my assignment for Human Resource Management for Professor Wu Pei Chuan on Work/Family Conflict: Issues and Implications for Individuals, Firms and Nations, I would take this opportunity to take advantage for the magazines's propensity towards inane stuff (as opposed to gay rights, AIDS and alcoholism) and churn out an article in less than 30 minutes on the highlights (and lowlights: although in retrospect it always looks fucking rosy) of my life and times at NUS. i mean what is the point in trying to write abt issues that matter and stuff that is subversive when you get repeated rejection from the editors (who by the way, get an article in every month, regardless if it is about using the over-using the analogy of a bra to describe the process of 'unclasping' the mind or writing about tampons and how uncomfortable they are)? I take offense to her using the analogy in the first place, but over-using it? and also, hello.. this is not cosmopolitan.. and sometimes she accuses me of not knowing who my readers are..... i mean.. like.. are all the people on campus.. female...? or do all of them use tampons? i mean like...er... fuck off! and to further it all: feedback on my article goes something like, its just a rant. of course it is, ur the queen mother (fucker) of rants..
ahh the fuck-all of life.. so why do i feel all shitty abt it.. this person who is clearly not interested gives me mixed signals.. or do i hope that's what they are? bottomline, just feel like shit.. i mean i know this is a theme that has manifested itself in many many previous postings.. but.. come on.. im tired of being left alone, perpetually left alone. atleast around me people are falling in love, exploring possibilities and here i am, thinking that i should explore but somehow never doing it coz, if my heart (corny sounding word) is somewhere else, i'd rather my dick be there... and not in some random's house (dear publisher: pun definitely NOT intended).. therefore i am clearly putting it down here, to all contrary belief: i am NOT a pervert. i DO NOT think of sex all the time.
ok im kinda tired.. so blog-posting will be continued on a better day.. Sukarno and Ho Chi Minh are waiting.. come out come out wherever you are.......
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