Two jobs each with a glanconer. I'm fucked. I want both.
Fun fact: A glanconer is a Scottish elven knight believed to be responsible for the disappearances of maidens and mysterious impregnations. He's said to be honey-tongued, and such a master in the erotic arts that no maiden bedded with him would want a mortal lover.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Flower
I've recently read the latest entry of this blog belonging to a friend. It's the same tale happening once more. A life that was never lived. A flower never allowed to blossom completely.You see, I don't want to repeat the same story upon myself i.e. work to live. I am frighten by it. I want to enjoy work so that I could live. Really live. And not be a drone. Being told that my performance is not up to par. Being fired for that reason. Being shamed. For I will be ashamed of myself because I know the reason very well. My performance would not be up to par because I don't enjoy what I am doing. Hence, the lack of drive.
If I should enjoy what I am doing, I'd be orgasmic to do the same thing everyday. It wouldn't be a struggle. I would welcome every new day, loving what will come and loving the act of performing work. When I love my job, the rest will see it. The passion and drive will be manifested throughout my physical environment and reality. No obstacle will be too hard to overcome. No inane boss will debase me with evil words. Because the love will keep me afloat! I am unstoppable!
You see, goodness from within will always manifest into the goodness without. If all you're feeling is lousiness, that feeling will manifest into the universe as well. But don't worry. Good feelings always have greater and faster effects upon the universe. Evil circumstances, things that happen in the wrong time or things that should never happen only become of a longterm accumulation of innate negativity.
Make it a point to cheer yourself every day. Do something to uplift thy life, for this life is thy only one. How easily I've forgotten that; I only have one life, and one 23rd birthday! Youth is wasted on the young. But I shall not waste it, and I will make it a point to live every moment of my life in happiness, greatness and completeness.
Fame, success and crazy amount of money are not what I need. I need happiness. I need real wealth. A wealth of time enjoyed, sleep well taken, a spouse loved properly and a death without regrets.
I am not a graphic designer.
I know that for certain. For I don't have the flare to convince strangers to buy themselves the latest NX-378 Ultra to make their lives more comfortable and complete. Yes, the entire consumer market is an invented concept based on a great lie i.e. happiness can be bought only if you use NX-378 Ultra. Beneath the jargons and dogma of the advertising world, that is all to it. It's a frigging parasite chasing and nurturing the sickness and conditions that create more disappointment and unhappiness in the human species. Advertising is a multicellular, living organism perpetuating – no – farming human fears and weaknesses. For those are the seeds this malevolent creature sows to reap more of the same things; fear, regrets, sadness, disappointment, melancholia, a certain feeling of impending doom and sorrows!
Oh, woe is me, you say. Buy NX-378 Ultra, and woe becomes not you! Order this second and you'll get an upgrade and freebies. And ultimately NX-378 Ultra does not work, and you wonder why. You approached the retailer, and he tells you that it is a delicate machinery designed by someone with a name you should remember or risk eternal damnation (but he'll never tell you that the laborers who made NX are indentured slave-children working 5-to-3, 7-day a week where the money note has been so big because of the zeros from inflation that it covered the entire country from the sight of God). So the only reason why it didn't work because you, clumsy little asshole, did not use it with care and proper attention. Yes, you actually paid for something that ultimately, and will always disappoint you, and get fucked in the face for misusing it. What you do? Another ad says, NX Sux! Buy NC-80,000 Wickedly Ultra! The cycle repeats itself.
It's all been said before. And it's being said again. Why does it always work? Because people are always being born and these new generation (another ad jargon) will always encounter the same piece of information for the first time in their lives.
The conclusion is: I have zero interest in what I've paid to study for 3 fucking years. Of course, those 3 fucking years were my happy years. I fucked a lot of people in those years. Interesting people. Haha. Anyways, those fucking years were not wasted. My primary reason studying graphic design is not to convince people to buy NX-378 Ultra. It is to open up avenues into the different art professions and fields!
I am a children's book illustrator. And I will get a job or a series of jobs being paid for being who I am! And will make a hell lotsa money, coz I love myself.
They say work does not define you. Bullcrap. You're spending 99.999% of your life at work, and you're not making the most out of it? It's all bullcrap and more bullcrap. And bullshit. I dunno what's difference, but anyways, no. If it's something that you spend the most of your life with, it should prolly pay more than feeding your fucking mouth! And your shih-tzu.
It should make you happy in every waking moment.
If you're feeling like crap at work, working, before work, after work, whateverthefuck work, than you're wasting 99.999% of your lifetime feeling sorry for yourself. And when you're in your deathbed, only if your mind is still in one piece after so many years of self-abuse and emotional sadism, you could only pray that the Allfucking Lord will keep His promise of an afterlife.
Look, after all these years of using NX-378 Ultra and other brands with the same brand promises (ad jargon), don't you think God and Heaven are just another set of brands people trying to sell you? Oops. Sorry. There goes your hope for resting in eternal (eternity is another ad jargon to sell you wedding gowns) peace!
You know life is working for you when you're feeling good all the time and have enough too. Wealth in all forms will follow. Health will too. For your old folks as well. Goodness is like pollens in flowers, commuting from one plant's sexual genitalia to another. It's not spirituality or metaphysics. It is as it is.
Fun fact: Do you know a flower is a vagina and penis at the same time? Think about it when you give or receive flowers.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Mio Nemico | Princess Fantaghiro
I practically grew up with the Fantaghiro sequence. Each episode is a complete 2-hour film. The MV is made by someone, a video I just wanted to show you how much I'm affected by the fantasy masterpiece. An Italian production based on an Italian medieval legend about a tomboy princess went about to save her man-in-distress. It was aired on Malaysia national TV during my childhood times. I think it was also about the time when I discovered my love for men. Ah, the handsome Romualdo played by Kim Rossi Stuart. The beautiful soundtrack music is composed by Amedeo Minghi. I love the entire thing; the song, the characters and the story itself!
Monday, December 10, 2007
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
I Am Guilty
I am guilty–of having habits.
Habits are what everyone has, you may say. But these are things I'm certainly I'm unhappy with. Lemme list my wrongdoings for you.
I'm notorious for being emotional. Jumping to conclusions. Being an assuming asshole. Wanting something from my boyfriend without stating a request–or having expectations on him, which is absolutely unrightful. I've not been examplary so I shouldn't be expecting him to be so too. Expecting my friends to be a friend, even though I've not been a very good friend. Not being a little generous when it was due. Being lazy. Haha!
I am an artist. And I expect myself to be different from the masses. If I am to be unique, strange and non-mainstream, I should start with my habits. I swear to kill these habits. Oh, people say these habits are hallmarks of being a human. Having a shared habit is human. No! I will strive to fulfill my vision of a perfect person.
If there is any piece of artwork I want to realize, I will myself be my greatest masterpiece. Why not? There is nothing good in being expectful, assumptive, emotional and unkind. Selfishness makes an ugly painting. No, I'm unhappy with even a hint of selfishness. It's really ugly.
Evil is news. Sadness is cool. Melancholia is culture. Woe is everybody. Everyone is happy being unhappy. And we complain about so much unhappiness when we ask for these things. I am not complaining. I am admitting. And I'm very angry to be unhappy. And I will act on it. This is my first action–writing this very blog entry. Swearing an oath.
Here are the things I wish I could say:
I wake up grateful for a new day. I wear a smile in my face. I am polite. I am generous. I am kind. I am compassionate. I am empathic. I am punctual. I am thoughtful. I am caring. I am happy. I am careful. I am sensitive. I am helpful. I am friendly. I am happy everyday. I am generous with compliments and praises. I compliment every good point of every person I meet. I am centred. I am disciplined. I am good at what I do. I draw everyday. I meditate everyday. I clean the house everyday. I care for my pets everyday. I care for my husband everyday. I make sure everyone around me is comfortable, soothed and content. I always have room and bed ready for friends and guests. I am prepared, centred and provided spiritually to meet all realities of life. I am happy with myself. I love myself. I am my own joy. I feel good every breathing moment so that the people around me feel better at ease. I am selfless.
Monday, October 29, 2007
The Voice of Our Rainforest
How is it all okay?
http://amp.channelv.com/AkarUmbi
Here I was listening to a very old woman who died in 1999 singing about the forgotten forest songs and tales of the Temuan people. I could bet most of you don't even know who are the Temuan. You would know them as Orang Asli, the Indigenous People, a convenient group label to destroy the identities of individual ethnicities. Malaysians largely don't bother with them. And the Government continues to rob them of their lands and basic human rights.
Woe are they, truly. A friend told me he partook in a missionary trip to a native village long time ago, and felt sorry for them living in primitive ways. And told me bringing the news of Christ to them is not bad. And here was Minah Angong, affectionately called Mak Minah, singing to her death in despair about her culture's erosion.
It makes her songs the more heart-wrenching. She was a very warm and friendly woman. One immediately conjures up the vision of a good grandmotherly figure reading the obituaries and articles about her. I'm simply glad to have heard her songs. The silent and invisible were made vocal by Mak Minah.
Her songs are proofs of the existence of a belief system in the Temuan. Why are such wrongness made upon them by every level of Malaysian society? There are people who quickly assume they have no beliefs or notion of religion at all. Another friend answered that because they are not educated, thus unable to make decisions for themselves. Islam and Xtianity were forced upon them. Sometimes in the guise of economic and political deliverance from their socalled societal limbo. Could they not think they are happy as they are?
"No. They cannot make decisions for themselves," the educated nationalist would say. They are not expected to understand the concepts of economic policies, national development and Vision 2020. They are promised compensations but forcibly relocated for hydroelectric dams to be built and trees to be lumbered. Even though the last tribe relocated decades ago were not compensated yet.
Outright robbery in governmental levels. And they say crime is hard to fight when the criminals are only taking the highest as example.
Here I was listening to a very old woman who died in 1999 singing about the forgotten forest songs and tales of the Temuan people. I could bet most of you don't even know who are the Temuan. You would know them as Orang Asli, the Indigenous People, a convenient group label to destroy the identities of individual ethnicities. Malaysians largely don't bother with them. And the Government continues to rob them of their lands and basic human rights.
Woe are they, truly. A friend told me he partook in a missionary trip to a native village long time ago, and felt sorry for them living in primitive ways. And told me bringing the news of Christ to them is not bad. And here was Minah Angong, affectionately called Mak Minah, singing to her death in despair about her culture's erosion.
It makes her songs the more heart-wrenching. She was a very warm and friendly woman. One immediately conjures up the vision of a good grandmotherly figure reading the obituaries and articles about her. I'm simply glad to have heard her songs. The silent and invisible were made vocal by Mak Minah.
Her songs are proofs of the existence of a belief system in the Temuan. Why are such wrongness made upon them by every level of Malaysian society? There are people who quickly assume they have no beliefs or notion of religion at all. Another friend answered that because they are not educated, thus unable to make decisions for themselves. Islam and Xtianity were forced upon them. Sometimes in the guise of economic and political deliverance from their socalled societal limbo. Could they not think they are happy as they are?
"No. They cannot make decisions for themselves," the educated nationalist would say. They are not expected to understand the concepts of economic policies, national development and Vision 2020. They are promised compensations but forcibly relocated for hydroelectric dams to be built and trees to be lumbered. Even though the last tribe relocated decades ago were not compensated yet.
Outright robbery in governmental levels. And they say crime is hard to fight when the criminals are only taking the highest as example.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Sounds of Bliss
So I've been tinkering my right-side bar so that you can read my blog while listening to a really, really nonintrusive, soul-soothing, evening song. But it won't play when I click play in my bar, but it works fine in its host website.
Sounds of Bliss
Anyways, I really like you to listen to it, because I actually have a soft copy of Bliss's album called Quiet Letters. And I'm telling you it's not the typical lounge music you hear everyday. It's way smoother than a harp-song.
I think most of us tired people would love listening to it after a day's work. If you need a duplicate of the album, you know how to get me. Click the link above in case the side bar doesn't work for you too. Then click any of the two tracks. They are the same song with the first track being the original. The second was changed in minor ways.
Anyways, I really like you to listen to it, because I actually have a soft copy of Bliss's album called Quiet Letters. And I'm telling you it's not the typical lounge music you hear everyday. It's way smoother than a harp-song.
I think most of us tired people would love listening to it after a day's work. If you need a duplicate of the album, you know how to get me. Click the link above in case the side bar doesn't work for you too. Then click any of the two tracks. They are the same song with the first track being the original. The second was changed in minor ways.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
The Only Venomous Mammal
From Wikipedia.org:
Many portions of the Wonderland tales can be tied only to sheer whimsy, and while Carroll's life observations do make themselves obvious from time to time, it is possible that "The Walrus and the Carpenter" is not one of them: Carroll's character The Duchess said in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland that "everything's got a moral, if only you can find it".
Go to: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Walrus_and_the_Carpenter
So why is the platypus (which I think is a bundle of cuteness) the only venomous mammal?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Good
Creative visualization. I've watched it in The Secret™, and I've read it in a book of that title by Shakti Gawain. It's a term that's been publicized for decades, and only today I truly understand and know what it can do for me.
I am a transformed man. I realized now I am a radiant being. :) And that there is always enough for all in the Universe. In that I am always grateful. In that spirit of gratitutde, I have now the spirit of generosity to give. I am feeling good, and I am good all the time. There is nothing better than being who I am right now at this point of moment in time.
I am calm. Life is effortless. I am the source of my own joy. I know that and I acknowledge that, and I am using that. I cannot be more perfect because I already am! Like attracts like. I am happy to be around people, and people are happy to be around me. There is no better time, no better place to do this but now and here. I love myself and I love you all.
I am a radiant being. I have the spring of inspiration and creativity in me. And I have the power to execute all my inspirations effortlessly. I have it. I have the job I want all along. I am now using my skill of drawing and art to bring this message of love and light and abundance to all who look at them. That is all that matters. To carry this joy and lamp of warmth into all the hearts I touch with my heart. I'm gonna bring that fire to you all!
All I said is true. And this is already benefitting all. *hugs*
I am a transformed man. I realized now I am a radiant being. :) And that there is always enough for all in the Universe. In that I am always grateful. In that spirit of gratitutde, I have now the spirit of generosity to give. I am feeling good, and I am good all the time. There is nothing better than being who I am right now at this point of moment in time.
I am calm. Life is effortless. I am the source of my own joy. I know that and I acknowledge that, and I am using that. I cannot be more perfect because I already am! Like attracts like. I am happy to be around people, and people are happy to be around me. There is no better time, no better place to do this but now and here. I love myself and I love you all.
I am a radiant being. I have the spring of inspiration and creativity in me. And I have the power to execute all my inspirations effortlessly. I have it. I have the job I want all along. I am now using my skill of drawing and art to bring this message of love and light and abundance to all who look at them. That is all that matters. To carry this joy and lamp of warmth into all the hearts I touch with my heart. I'm gonna bring that fire to you all!
All I said is true. And this is already benefitting all. *hugs*
Monday, October 08, 2007
Isis + Anubis
Recently, like some months back, I've been using the name of Isis since I bought this magical tome from Borders, KL: http://www.hermeticfellowship.org/Iseum/The_Book.html
I'm largely attracted to Her, firstly, due to my boyfriend's usage of Her Name in some of his more important magical workings (so it could have been subconsciously imbued into my mind / in case u asked, my bf and I each pursue different spiritual paths and only linked romantically), and then it was Her image as the Motherly Lady in White.
A bit of digression here, so please indulge me. I love my Grandma and my Mother a lot, but we, being mere mortals, are subject to human misgivings and feelings of guilt and disappointment. To save you from the dreary storytelling of my love-hate relationships with my mortal maternal figures, I believe my attraction to the Lady Isis is due to a subconscious abstraction of the perfect motherly love.
Anyways, I've been burying my head in Isis Magic from time to time, as it is a substantial peace of literature. The book is largely appealling to the female demography of readers, but the author did try to make the male readers feel part of the "women's club". I think it becomes a bad thing anyways if a book has to "try" to make different segments of the demography to feel accepted "anyways" and "by the ways".
Apart from that, the book dedicated several introductory chapters to the history of Isiac worship. And then the rest of the book is rituals and spells, and a glossary of epithets to Isis.
Alrite, back to my Isiac experience. As I've said before, I've used Her Name in several occasions. During a particular night of attempt to sleep after a day in office, I found myself asking Her to soothe my body aching all over from the daily stress and my soul tired from the daily passion-numbing experience of working in an assembly-line of the animation studio. I envisioned the Mother Isis radiating beams of healing white light all over me, and then I slept like a baby, waking up feeling recharged. The first thing I did after waking up is saying a prayer of gratitude to Her.
In another occasion, as I was about to peak fucking my boyfriend, I impulsively thought of Her Name. Guess what? It was the most amazing orgasm I ever had! Of course, it would be most prolly due to reading a paragraph about Isis as the goddess of sexuality and the passions. Hey, according to the book, a Roman emperor actually tried to ban Isiac worship because of its "pornographic elements", but the religion expanded anyways throughout Europe in PreChristian era.
It might not appear magical to people who watch Charmed, Harry Potter and Supernatural, but magic is actually very much part of our daily lives, and it could be used to uplift us in every second if we choose to.
Isiac magic is prolly a ritualistic endeavor, the book says, but I cannot believe that the Lady Isis could only be honored in one way as She is the Goddess of Ten Thousand Names. Besides, I am not the type of person who memorize the multiplication table, and I am an artist, forgoddesssake!
However, I've been told the Name of Isis, if used, must be compensated. Tit for tat, eh? Remember to provide a sacrifice of white roses, lilies or lotus should you use Her Name. That's all She asked.
About Anubis. It seems to be like a phase. Anubis is my current attraction. I really wonder how my mind works, but as an artist, I tend to accept my impulsiveness more gladly. Or maybe it's my subconsciousness. I believe all our conscious actions and thoughts are issued and sponsored by our subconscious one. Yes, I read and love Jung and his works.
So, Anubis. I gotta admit, my attraction to the Jackal-Headed One is largely artistic and sexual. Somehow I found that a jetblackskinned jackalheaded god is so tantalizing. And that dark and indifferent aura He eminates as an Underworld deity. Who doesn't love a bad boy, eh?
Anyways, I like to rationalize the dual attraction. Anubis is said to be Isis's foster-son, but there are so many versions out there, I don't care to recount it all here, so you might want to google for them. But I am largely in love with the version in which Isis loved Anubis as Her own flesh and blood even though he was the offspring of Her Husband with a different goddess. This says a lot about the character of Isis as a great woman, not just a goddess. This doubly rises my affection and devotion to the Lady Isis for her compassion, unconditional love and selflessness.
I'm largely attracted to Her, firstly, due to my boyfriend's usage of Her Name in some of his more important magical workings (so it could have been subconsciously imbued into my mind / in case u asked, my bf and I each pursue different spiritual paths and only linked romantically), and then it was Her image as the Motherly Lady in White.
A bit of digression here, so please indulge me. I love my Grandma and my Mother a lot, but we, being mere mortals, are subject to human misgivings and feelings of guilt and disappointment. To save you from the dreary storytelling of my love-hate relationships with my mortal maternal figures, I believe my attraction to the Lady Isis is due to a subconscious abstraction of the perfect motherly love.
Anyways, I've been burying my head in Isis Magic from time to time, as it is a substantial peace of literature. The book is largely appealling to the female demography of readers, but the author did try to make the male readers feel part of the "women's club". I think it becomes a bad thing anyways if a book has to "try" to make different segments of the demography to feel accepted "anyways" and "by the ways".
Apart from that, the book dedicated several introductory chapters to the history of Isiac worship. And then the rest of the book is rituals and spells, and a glossary of epithets to Isis.
Alrite, back to my Isiac experience. As I've said before, I've used Her Name in several occasions. During a particular night of attempt to sleep after a day in office, I found myself asking Her to soothe my body aching all over from the daily stress and my soul tired from the daily passion-numbing experience of working in an assembly-line of the animation studio. I envisioned the Mother Isis radiating beams of healing white light all over me, and then I slept like a baby, waking up feeling recharged. The first thing I did after waking up is saying a prayer of gratitude to Her.
In another occasion, as I was about to peak fucking my boyfriend, I impulsively thought of Her Name. Guess what? It was the most amazing orgasm I ever had! Of course, it would be most prolly due to reading a paragraph about Isis as the goddess of sexuality and the passions. Hey, according to the book, a Roman emperor actually tried to ban Isiac worship because of its "pornographic elements", but the religion expanded anyways throughout Europe in PreChristian era.
It might not appear magical to people who watch Charmed, Harry Potter and Supernatural, but magic is actually very much part of our daily lives, and it could be used to uplift us in every second if we choose to.
Isiac magic is prolly a ritualistic endeavor, the book says, but I cannot believe that the Lady Isis could only be honored in one way as She is the Goddess of Ten Thousand Names. Besides, I am not the type of person who memorize the multiplication table, and I am an artist, forgoddesssake!
However, I've been told the Name of Isis, if used, must be compensated. Tit for tat, eh? Remember to provide a sacrifice of white roses, lilies or lotus should you use Her Name. That's all She asked.
About Anubis. It seems to be like a phase. Anubis is my current attraction. I really wonder how my mind works, but as an artist, I tend to accept my impulsiveness more gladly. Or maybe it's my subconsciousness. I believe all our conscious actions and thoughts are issued and sponsored by our subconscious one. Yes, I read and love Jung and his works.
So, Anubis. I gotta admit, my attraction to the Jackal-Headed One is largely artistic and sexual. Somehow I found that a jetblackskinned jackalheaded god is so tantalizing. And that dark and indifferent aura He eminates as an Underworld deity. Who doesn't love a bad boy, eh?
Anyways, I like to rationalize the dual attraction. Anubis is said to be Isis's foster-son, but there are so many versions out there, I don't care to recount it all here, so you might want to google for them. But I am largely in love with the version in which Isis loved Anubis as Her own flesh and blood even though he was the offspring of Her Husband with a different goddess. This says a lot about the character of Isis as a great woman, not just a goddess. This doubly rises my affection and devotion to the Lady Isis for her compassion, unconditional love and selflessness.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Hunter Again
I'm a hunter once more.
Let's face the facts. I come to this job, which I quitted after the three months probation was over, because many "sources" told me that I might do good in animation. Piff, my socalled cute drawings! Well, sorry, animation sucks. It's a fucking retard job for well retards! (WARNING: By now you should notice this is more of a Rant entry rather than a substantial insight-mature-reading-"dear-diary"-kinda-fucktard-Xtian-journal entry. So please leave if you can't take Rant, and don't reply with oh-poor-things-sorry-for-you-my-sympathies-kinda-try-again-think-positive bullcrap to Rant if you dunno what the fuck it is.)
Ok, back to the fucking Rant part. Animation is a fucking Dronage! You know what's a drone, rite? So yeah imagine you're a drone, ok, like a bee drone. You make that fucking irritating noice that bees do in the hives. So imagine all your day is to drone. And imagine all your fucking retard colleagues doing the same thing, drone! And all of them are fucking making the same fucking noise! Bee droning! And multiply that droning noice by infinite times! Gazillion Bees Droning In Your Ears! And you are part of the fucking hive, droning with the rest of them! It's a fucking madhouse! After two months, I cracked! I was broken! And I just can't fucking stop myself from pitying myself, and dropped down to cry!
Fuck Malaysian animation! It can go to the deepest, rankiest pit of hell!
I'm a fucking gay artist, and I wanna do something gay (modern and archaic definitions are applied) and well do somethign fucking arty! So God, Universe, Whoever-the-Fuck-You-Are, stop messing with my fucking life and give that Thing to me!
Ok. Rant is over. Let's do something constructive with this fucktard entry. We shall evaluate my strengths and weaknesses. I.Am.A.Fucking.Horny.Gay.Artist. That's it. I like to fuck. So maybe I should be a gay prostitute? I heard if you can take in ten cocks a day, you'll be financial independent in a decade or so. Maybe I should get involved in the pink dollar industries. Like gay boutiques, magazines, and websites. Hmm. Should I gather up a gay portfolio? I like doing sexy guys if you've seen my personal gallery. Maybe I should come up with a whole new way of being gay! I'll fucking rich! Hahaha!
Fuck all this. I'm going to shoot something. Laters.
Let's face the facts. I come to this job, which I quitted after the three months probation was over, because many "sources" told me that I might do good in animation. Piff, my socalled cute drawings! Well, sorry, animation sucks. It's a fucking retard job for well retards! (WARNING: By now you should notice this is more of a Rant entry rather than a substantial insight-mature-reading-"dear-diary"-kinda-fucktard-Xtian-journal entry. So please leave if you can't take Rant, and don't reply with oh-poor-things-sorry-for-you-my-sympathies-kinda-try-again-think-positive bullcrap to Rant if you dunno what the fuck it is.)
Ok, back to the fucking Rant part. Animation is a fucking Dronage! You know what's a drone, rite? So yeah imagine you're a drone, ok, like a bee drone. You make that fucking irritating noice that bees do in the hives. So imagine all your day is to drone. And imagine all your fucking retard colleagues doing the same thing, drone! And all of them are fucking making the same fucking noise! Bee droning! And multiply that droning noice by infinite times! Gazillion Bees Droning In Your Ears! And you are part of the fucking hive, droning with the rest of them! It's a fucking madhouse! After two months, I cracked! I was broken! And I just can't fucking stop myself from pitying myself, and dropped down to cry!
Fuck Malaysian animation! It can go to the deepest, rankiest pit of hell!
I'm a fucking gay artist, and I wanna do something gay (modern and archaic definitions are applied) and well do somethign fucking arty! So God, Universe, Whoever-the-Fuck-You-Are, stop messing with my fucking life and give that Thing to me!
Ok. Rant is over. Let's do something constructive with this fucktard entry. We shall evaluate my strengths and weaknesses. I.Am.A.Fucking.Horny.Gay.Artist. That's it. I like to fuck. So maybe I should be a gay prostitute? I heard if you can take in ten cocks a day, you'll be financial independent in a decade or so. Maybe I should get involved in the pink dollar industries. Like gay boutiques, magazines, and websites. Hmm. Should I gather up a gay portfolio? I like doing sexy guys if you've seen my personal gallery. Maybe I should come up with a whole new way of being gay! I'll fucking rich! Hahaha!
Fuck all this. I'm going to shoot something. Laters.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Update
Nothing new here. Just work work work and work. The pimples from work-related stress are new though. A whole lot of them. I need some potent cleansers. Any suggestions?
So the geofiction/nation roleplaying game Eshraval that I've committed so much time and effort on is closed for good. The creator of the game is apparently sick of the game so that's it. Rite now I'm on another RP board called Fracta Passium [ http://fractapassium.invisionzone.com/index.php? ]. I doubt I've much trust in these games anymore.
The Studio requires every employee to submit a piece of artwork for its submission in the upcoming Comic Fiesta. The artbook is called Doodle. So go and buy one when it's out! For my submission, I've already thought of a theme. It's called the Republic of Operatic Chihuahuas. Vector art. Might be completely done Flash. I dunno. Let's see where it goes. I chose this subject matter because this is a thing I hate. Yeah, it's a bit refreshing to do something you hate instead of doing something you like.
I've also joined a bunch of colleagues in a personal Comic Fiesta artbook project. They gave free rein on what we could do. At the moment I have no obvious preferences but cats are something on my mind. Besides, I'm developing and designing a race of catpeople called the Rau (as in cow). The requirement is minimum 2 painted works and 5 sketches. Yet the payment is the same. So I thought I would submit all 5 painted works, depicting the 5 or combinations of the most important figures and characters in the Raurian nation.
The Rau is also a faction in Fracta Passium. FP is different from Eshraval in the sense that it is a space-opera. Each player plays a faction, which controls one or more systems, including a homeworld of course. Since I have no time to play, I told the game master that I cannot commit so I've established the Rau planetary government as an isolationist faction.
My personal life: well, me and my partner has just purchased a house. But our relationship is a bit shaky at the moment. I am not sure whether this is the good time for such an investment. I have my doubts, but we'll see what time will bring forth.
Ciao.
Tommy
So the geofiction/nation roleplaying game Eshraval that I've committed so much time and effort on is closed for good. The creator of the game is apparently sick of the game so that's it. Rite now I'm on another RP board called Fracta Passium [ http://fractapassium.invisionzone.com/index.php? ]. I doubt I've much trust in these games anymore.
The Studio requires every employee to submit a piece of artwork for its submission in the upcoming Comic Fiesta. The artbook is called Doodle. So go and buy one when it's out! For my submission, I've already thought of a theme. It's called the Republic of Operatic Chihuahuas. Vector art. Might be completely done Flash. I dunno. Let's see where it goes. I chose this subject matter because this is a thing I hate. Yeah, it's a bit refreshing to do something you hate instead of doing something you like.
I've also joined a bunch of colleagues in a personal Comic Fiesta artbook project. They gave free rein on what we could do. At the moment I have no obvious preferences but cats are something on my mind. Besides, I'm developing and designing a race of catpeople called the Rau (as in cow). The requirement is minimum 2 painted works and 5 sketches. Yet the payment is the same. So I thought I would submit all 5 painted works, depicting the 5 or combinations of the most important figures and characters in the Raurian nation.
The Rau is also a faction in Fracta Passium. FP is different from Eshraval in the sense that it is a space-opera. Each player plays a faction, which controls one or more systems, including a homeworld of course. Since I have no time to play, I told the game master that I cannot commit so I've established the Rau planetary government as an isolationist faction.
My personal life: well, me and my partner has just purchased a house. But our relationship is a bit shaky at the moment. I am not sure whether this is the good time for such an investment. I have my doubts, but we'll see what time will bring forth.
Ciao.
Tommy
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Drowning Porpoise
I saw a porpoise beached
On a starfish-looking eve
What come is not what I look for
But I go to the porpoise stranded
On coarse sand just beyond reach
Of his original life
I looked into his teary eyes
And I asked, "Why are you here?"
And he said, "I was looking,"
"What are you looking for?"
"I was looking for life."
So I was amused
And the whole world should be
"Isn't your life in the sea?"
Then the porpoise wept,
Drawing his last breath,
I look on with indifference.
"Isn't your life in the sea?"
His thirsty skin was drying from the even winds
"Isn't your life in the sea?"
I asked indifferently again
"I was drowning in the sea!"
So I laughed!
I said, "I'd drown if I stay in the sea,
"You're a porpoise thus breathe the sea."
Then the dying porpoise said,
"Was I not fed with milk?
"Does not warm blood runs in my veins?
"I but only hold my breath longer in the sea,
"And I am sick of holding my breath."
Nevertheless, I told the porpoise indifferently,
"So you are right,
"And rightly you will die
"On this starfish-looking eve."
And I walked away leaving him to rot.
'Firday, June 22, 2007'
On a starfish-looking eve
What come is not what I look for
But I go to the porpoise stranded
On coarse sand just beyond reach
Of his original life
I looked into his teary eyes
And I asked, "Why are you here?"
And he said, "I was looking,"
"What are you looking for?"
"I was looking for life."
So I was amused
And the whole world should be
"Isn't your life in the sea?"
Then the porpoise wept,
Drawing his last breath,
I look on with indifference.
"Isn't your life in the sea?"
His thirsty skin was drying from the even winds
"Isn't your life in the sea?"
I asked indifferently again
"I was drowning in the sea!"
So I laughed!
I said, "I'd drown if I stay in the sea,
"You're a porpoise thus breathe the sea."
Then the dying porpoise said,
"Was I not fed with milk?
"Does not warm blood runs in my veins?
"I but only hold my breath longer in the sea,
"And I am sick of holding my breath."
Nevertheless, I told the porpoise indifferently,
"So you are right,
"And rightly you will die
"On this starfish-looking eve."
And I walked away leaving him to rot.
'Firday, June 22, 2007'
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Four Types of Painkiller I Was Given
I was hospitalized on the first day on the job. I was given four shots and put on the drip. This is what happened.
The night before Friday, I stay awake till 2AM trying to brush up my Flash commands. And then I woke up at 7AM, getting ready for work at 9AM. I had a small of cake, which was obviously not enough for my rather large appetite. So I went off to work hardly full, tired, sleepy and nervous. When I arrived at the office, for goodness sake, the lights were rather dim and windows were covered with dark curtains. The light of the eMac screen was so blinding I couldn't keep my eyes open, and the environs were sleep conducive. While I was doing a rather tedious exercise of tracing a sketch using Flash and a mouse ... While around me people were playing a mix of genres of songs, and colleagues trying to lip-sync rather noisy characters! And I was there worrying not being able to complete this exercise of familiarization!
I've already felt the cramps on my way to the office. When I sat down in front of the computer in that environment, the cramps overtook my senses. At first I thought I could sit in the pantry and let the pain subside, perhaps. I tried to control my breathing, while telling myself in the mind that, "I must go through with this. First day impression is of paramount importance. I must stand on this." With my breathing regulated, I went back to my station. My eyes began to droop, my hands were shaking, I was beginning to sweat, one layer of panic was stack on another.
I went to my supervisor, and told him that I couldn't do this anymore. He had told me to take the day off when I went into the pantry. Obviously, I looked like I was struggling in pain enough to be noted by him, by anyone. So I went to him, and said I'll go the clinic, and see what the doctor could do for me. I'll return for the rest day when I return. And I didn't return.
I went to the clinic, and the doctor gave me a shot. He assured me the pain will go away after the jab. I went to lie down for like 30 minutes, 1 hour? I dunno. It was so much pain in the entire region of my stomach and bowels. Touching my tummy is like pouring salt on an open wound. No touching it, I was feeling gastronomical spasms ... Anyways, after an hour, I thought I was feeling much better, so I thought. But the pain didn't really go away. The moment I stood up on my legs, the spasm returned. So yeah, I thought, "I should be going to rest now that this is too much to concentrate. I should go up and explain or download the exercise into my thumbdrive ..." And then I thought how embarrassing that would be, how nervous I felt trying to say these things. The more nervous I get, the stronger the spasm bites in my bowels. It felt like my intestines had been tied into infinite knots. I actually curled up on the bench. I freaked the nurse out in the counter, but she went for the clinic's doctor.
The doctor asked me whether I like an ambulance or someone I know to get me to a hospital. I called my dad, he didn't pick up. I called my hubby, he didn't pick up. At that point, I couldn't even talk feeling so much pain. I hit call, and hand the phone to the doctor. My supervisor picked up the phone. After a few minutes, he came with another colleague and a car. I was bound for Universiti Hospital.
I writhed so much in the back seat, I think I was freaking my colleagues out. My supervisor tried to comfort me. It felt nice to be comforted, of course. (He was quite dashing in my opinion. :P Ok, back to the pain.) I was panting, and squirming and making strange noises, trying to hold the spasms back. And I can't.
So there I was in UH in the middle of PJ, sent to the emergency ward. My throat was dried because I was breathing through my mouth so much. My nose was still stuffed after I recovered from flu recently. They gave me a jab in the ass again, and some antacid I think. It tasted like medicine and menthol, but I felt like vomiting afterwards. The spasms were still there after a long while. So they decided to draw my blood and put me on the drip. And gave me another shot through the drip puncture hole in my hand for the pain.
I was still writhing after all this. They told me to lie on my back, but they don't know the pain was greater that way. I needed to curl and kick on my side. My blood was fine. I was put into x-ray scan. The scan was fine. But the spasms were even better.
So I was given another type of painkiller in the drip puncture. At some point, my hubby came. In between of spasms, I overheard that I was already given four types of painkillers, above the average dosages. But the fourth shot had done it. That one put me to sleep. It was a relief ...
Hmm ... my hubby told me that the nurse who did the drip puncture on my hand forgotten to placed in a safety cap. So when she stabbed the tube into my hand, blood squirted out everywhere ... I only realized my hand was wet with blood after I've awaken from my fourth shot.
As I'm typing this, I can still feel the hardness in my stomach and bowels. The kinda the pain you feel after a huge cramp in the limbs. I'm now worrying about Monday ... What a great first day impression I made in the office, and the scare I gave to my supervisor ... I'm thinking if I am suitable at all for that office with its kind of environment, and this field of work. I've yet to send my supervisor an apology message for disturbing his schedule so I'll do that after I've posted this. I wouldn't be surprised if the Studio decided to relief me from my job. I like to be relieved! I'm taking this an evil omen of the days to come ...
Self-diagnosis: gastric contractions and acid excretions from nervousness. With an empty stomach, it turns into spasms. The doctors told me to go their outpatient clinic for further investigations, but I rather not. I know it for fact coz this is a familiar pain, only multiplied a hundred times.
The night before Friday, I stay awake till 2AM trying to brush up my Flash commands. And then I woke up at 7AM, getting ready for work at 9AM. I had a small of cake, which was obviously not enough for my rather large appetite. So I went off to work hardly full, tired, sleepy and nervous. When I arrived at the office, for goodness sake, the lights were rather dim and windows were covered with dark curtains. The light of the eMac screen was so blinding I couldn't keep my eyes open, and the environs were sleep conducive. While I was doing a rather tedious exercise of tracing a sketch using Flash and a mouse ... While around me people were playing a mix of genres of songs, and colleagues trying to lip-sync rather noisy characters! And I was there worrying not being able to complete this exercise of familiarization!
I've already felt the cramps on my way to the office. When I sat down in front of the computer in that environment, the cramps overtook my senses. At first I thought I could sit in the pantry and let the pain subside, perhaps. I tried to control my breathing, while telling myself in the mind that, "I must go through with this. First day impression is of paramount importance. I must stand on this." With my breathing regulated, I went back to my station. My eyes began to droop, my hands were shaking, I was beginning to sweat, one layer of panic was stack on another.
I went to my supervisor, and told him that I couldn't do this anymore. He had told me to take the day off when I went into the pantry. Obviously, I looked like I was struggling in pain enough to be noted by him, by anyone. So I went to him, and said I'll go the clinic, and see what the doctor could do for me. I'll return for the rest day when I return. And I didn't return.
I went to the clinic, and the doctor gave me a shot. He assured me the pain will go away after the jab. I went to lie down for like 30 minutes, 1 hour? I dunno. It was so much pain in the entire region of my stomach and bowels. Touching my tummy is like pouring salt on an open wound. No touching it, I was feeling gastronomical spasms ... Anyways, after an hour, I thought I was feeling much better, so I thought. But the pain didn't really go away. The moment I stood up on my legs, the spasm returned. So yeah, I thought, "I should be going to rest now that this is too much to concentrate. I should go up and explain or download the exercise into my thumbdrive ..." And then I thought how embarrassing that would be, how nervous I felt trying to say these things. The more nervous I get, the stronger the spasm bites in my bowels. It felt like my intestines had been tied into infinite knots. I actually curled up on the bench. I freaked the nurse out in the counter, but she went for the clinic's doctor.
The doctor asked me whether I like an ambulance or someone I know to get me to a hospital. I called my dad, he didn't pick up. I called my hubby, he didn't pick up. At that point, I couldn't even talk feeling so much pain. I hit call, and hand the phone to the doctor. My supervisor picked up the phone. After a few minutes, he came with another colleague and a car. I was bound for Universiti Hospital.
I writhed so much in the back seat, I think I was freaking my colleagues out. My supervisor tried to comfort me. It felt nice to be comforted, of course. (He was quite dashing in my opinion. :P Ok, back to the pain.) I was panting, and squirming and making strange noises, trying to hold the spasms back. And I can't.
So there I was in UH in the middle of PJ, sent to the emergency ward. My throat was dried because I was breathing through my mouth so much. My nose was still stuffed after I recovered from flu recently. They gave me a jab in the ass again, and some antacid I think. It tasted like medicine and menthol, but I felt like vomiting afterwards. The spasms were still there after a long while. So they decided to draw my blood and put me on the drip. And gave me another shot through the drip puncture hole in my hand for the pain.
I was still writhing after all this. They told me to lie on my back, but they don't know the pain was greater that way. I needed to curl and kick on my side. My blood was fine. I was put into x-ray scan. The scan was fine. But the spasms were even better.
So I was given another type of painkiller in the drip puncture. At some point, my hubby came. In between of spasms, I overheard that I was already given four types of painkillers, above the average dosages. But the fourth shot had done it. That one put me to sleep. It was a relief ...
Hmm ... my hubby told me that the nurse who did the drip puncture on my hand forgotten to placed in a safety cap. So when she stabbed the tube into my hand, blood squirted out everywhere ... I only realized my hand was wet with blood after I've awaken from my fourth shot.
As I'm typing this, I can still feel the hardness in my stomach and bowels. The kinda the pain you feel after a huge cramp in the limbs. I'm now worrying about Monday ... What a great first day impression I made in the office, and the scare I gave to my supervisor ... I'm thinking if I am suitable at all for that office with its kind of environment, and this field of work. I've yet to send my supervisor an apology message for disturbing his schedule so I'll do that after I've posted this. I wouldn't be surprised if the Studio decided to relief me from my job. I like to be relieved! I'm taking this an evil omen of the days to come ...
Self-diagnosis: gastric contractions and acid excretions from nervousness. With an empty stomach, it turns into spasms. The doctors told me to go their outpatient clinic for further investigations, but I rather not. I know it for fact coz this is a familiar pain, only multiplied a hundred times.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Employed, Finally!
I've found a job!
Visit the studio's site: http://animasia-studio.com/
I was hoping for some conceptual responsibilities, but well, I'm a fresh graduate, and I'm not from animation background. :P (graphic design mah) So I'll be doing, as my interviewer i.e. the Animation Director himself says, the in-betweens. I understand the term as tweening from Macromedia Flash™ (which is the very software the Studio uses mostly to develop projects).
What tweening entails is that I'll be given two keyframes. Keyframe One is what is about to happen. Keyframe Two is what happened. So in between what is about to happen and what happened, I'll have to draw them all. All in all, I am the one who make a cartoon character walked from point A to point B. Everything will be done in Flash™. A lot of drawing to be done ... and non-involvement in the creative process. I am at the receiving end of the conceptual development hierarchy. Fuck ...
I'm telling myself then I'm giving the Studio a year (they are giving me 2 weeks instead). After a year, if I'm not about to be involved in the creative process, I'll fire the Studio! Hahahaha!
Anyways, work starts on this Friday, 1st of June.
Now, why on earth am I involved in the animation field, you may ask. I'm not even interested in this fanfare myself. The reason is that more than one source, one time and situation wherein someone told me I should be in the animation field from observing my drawings. So I told myself, what the heck, lets give it a try. Given the luxury of time, choice, etc, I'll illustrate children's book, develop funny clip arts and design commercial posters.
So now I've two days time to brush up my Flash™ commands. I'm thinking of purchasing a lil handbook tonight to help me do just that.
Well, say good luck to my next deviation in my career journey! (I started with two years in a business school, then I moved to graphic design, and now I'm in the mentioned field.)
Visit the studio's site: http://animasia-studio.com/
I was hoping for some conceptual responsibilities, but well, I'm a fresh graduate, and I'm not from animation background. :P (graphic design mah) So I'll be doing, as my interviewer i.e. the Animation Director himself says, the in-betweens. I understand the term as tweening from Macromedia Flash™ (which is the very software the Studio uses mostly to develop projects).
What tweening entails is that I'll be given two keyframes. Keyframe One is what is about to happen. Keyframe Two is what happened. So in between what is about to happen and what happened, I'll have to draw them all. All in all, I am the one who make a cartoon character walked from point A to point B. Everything will be done in Flash™. A lot of drawing to be done ... and non-involvement in the creative process. I am at the receiving end of the conceptual development hierarchy. Fuck ...
I'm telling myself then I'm giving the Studio a year (they are giving me 2 weeks instead). After a year, if I'm not about to be involved in the creative process, I'll fire the Studio! Hahahaha!
Anyways, work starts on this Friday, 1st of June.
Now, why on earth am I involved in the animation field, you may ask. I'm not even interested in this fanfare myself. The reason is that more than one source, one time and situation wherein someone told me I should be in the animation field from observing my drawings. So I told myself, what the heck, lets give it a try. Given the luxury of time, choice, etc, I'll illustrate children's book, develop funny clip arts and design commercial posters.
So now I've two days time to brush up my Flash™ commands. I'm thinking of purchasing a lil handbook tonight to help me do just that.
Well, say good luck to my next deviation in my career journey! (I started with two years in a business school, then I moved to graphic design, and now I'm in the mentioned field.)
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Unemployed/Relaxed
It's been well over a month and a half, and I've yet to land on a job.
The truth is I am reluctant to get a job. All my effort has been a little and small. I have a diploma in graphic design, so I am supposed to get a career in the graphic design field or at least related to it.
Lemme justify my procrastinating habit a bit.
The horror stories of the advertising and graphic working environment are starting to get into me. And I've experienced part of it, which had really gave me a horrible lasting impression. I felt like I'm being bullied everyday AND night, and not even a moment to hide in a corner to weep. When I was bullied in school, I at least have the night to cry myself to bed.
But they said no work is effortless. They said when your pay is RM1000, the company expects a return from you multiplied 100 times your pay.
But this is the system being used for centuries by billions of people. China, the last stronghold of the workers' paradise, is also giving way to capitalism. I am a fucking lazy pig.
Ok, you'd prolly asking me what I wanna do then. I like to answer myself too. I like to draw. Make clip art and create cartoons. Illustrate children's book. Work for the sake of beauty, comedy and living.
I don't wanna work for survival. I wanna work for myself. Maybe I should run my own business. XD Yeah rite. Where do I get the money? :P Silly me
The truth is I am reluctant to get a job. All my effort has been a little and small. I have a diploma in graphic design, so I am supposed to get a career in the graphic design field or at least related to it.
Lemme justify my procrastinating habit a bit.
The horror stories of the advertising and graphic working environment are starting to get into me. And I've experienced part of it, which had really gave me a horrible lasting impression. I felt like I'm being bullied everyday AND night, and not even a moment to hide in a corner to weep. When I was bullied in school, I at least have the night to cry myself to bed.
But they said no work is effortless. They said when your pay is RM1000, the company expects a return from you multiplied 100 times your pay.
But this is the system being used for centuries by billions of people. China, the last stronghold of the workers' paradise, is also giving way to capitalism. I am a fucking lazy pig.
Ok, you'd prolly asking me what I wanna do then. I like to answer myself too. I like to draw. Make clip art and create cartoons. Illustrate children's book. Work for the sake of beauty, comedy and living.
I don't wanna work for survival. I wanna work for myself. Maybe I should run my own business. XD Yeah rite. Where do I get the money? :P Silly me
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Stolen Moments
Stolen moments,
I met gods between seconds,
I walked the twilight road,
But before I thought I was alone,
In that dusky road,
I saw beautiful Apollo,
And he was gone
before I know who he was.
In that stolen moment,
Our eyes met,
Can you believe a love story
Could unfold between seconds?
I cannot believe
for I've lived it
Walking that dusky road
Where I met beautiful Apollo.
O Eros Trueshot
Thou art crueller than the Sisters.
How sharp thine love-arrow
Once the moment had passed
Apollo gone to light another day
I become awestruck, dumbfounded
My heart breaks in missing that divine ray.
O Lord, you have no mercy,
O Lady, you did not pray for me,
I shall go home now,
Curl up in my bed like a good kit,
Hoping to dream of beautiful Apollo
While I try to sleep with aching heart
For I've stolen those moments
And hoard them greedily ...
I met gods between seconds,
I walked the twilight road,
But before I thought I was alone,
In that dusky road,
I saw beautiful Apollo,
And he was gone
before I know who he was.
In that stolen moment,
Our eyes met,
Can you believe a love story
Could unfold between seconds?
I cannot believe
for I've lived it
Walking that dusky road
Where I met beautiful Apollo.
O Eros Trueshot
Thou art crueller than the Sisters.
How sharp thine love-arrow
Once the moment had passed
Apollo gone to light another day
I become awestruck, dumbfounded
My heart breaks in missing that divine ray.
O Lord, you have no mercy,
O Lady, you did not pray for me,
I shall go home now,
Curl up in my bed like a good kit,
Hoping to dream of beautiful Apollo
While I try to sleep with aching heart
For I've stolen those moments
And hoard them greedily ...
Friday, March 23, 2007
Last Days in College
27th March, Tuesday, will be my last day in college. It is the day I'll present my final year project to a group of silly people, who will decide whether I should be let out into the industry or not. When I was writing this, it is 22nd of March, 10:47PM, Thursday. Guess what, I still haven't complete my project!
Someone has to fuck me now. My asshole is ripe and raw, itching. :P Fuck me, please!
College. Let's talk about college. And college education. College was ... brief. Because physics dictates that when you have fun, you have it short and fleeting. When you suffer and grovel on the ground, worrying about the end of the world, you have it long and infinitely. Ok. Back to college. College was ... seriously, I dun quite remember college. All I remember was the people in it. I met a really good friend. She is really sweet. Her name is Efe. Spelling checked. Not Eve. It's Efe. Coz her name is Efelyn. Dun ask me is it spelled that way. It just is. And there was Mr. J. He's really sweet, openminded and compassionate and fun to be with. He is a like a father to me ... one who should be my father ...
Mr. J. He was admitted to hospital recently for heart surgery. Only a few days after his birthday. I should have visited him before. I feel bad. I am a bad student. I should go to his place after the 27th. He's having a hard time paying for his medicine and surgery costs. Maybe I should come up with some money every month for him. I am young. I could always find more money. I need to help him in anyway I could. He's been so kind to me, touched me in ways he didn't know. He's been kind to all his students. I salute this teacher. He deserves a medal for examplary educator.
And then there is Charlene. Intelligent ... and intelligent ... and good person to talk with. XD I like talking to her. I tell her everything. I actually tell everyone everything ... I am an open book. I don't go express my anger everyday, though. In my 3 years time in college, I think I burst 2 times? Maybe less lah. Hahhaa. I dun count leh. But I dun remember there was a time I turned black in my face in front of Charlene. I think most of the time I appear tired lor. Project mah. Haiz. I am thinking of retirement already. :P Ok, ok. Charlene ... hmmm ... hahaha, dunno what to say of her lah! She hardly tell me anything personal wan. XD Always tell me to read her blog. Boring sial. Must hear from own lips mah baru sedap. Kikiki.
Ok. So what is college education? It's an investment lah! Wei, I pay RM30,000 jor you think I dun want some money back ah hah? The bluddy diploma better mean something to my life! Sial!
Someone has to fuck me now. My asshole is ripe and raw, itching. :P Fuck me, please!
College. Let's talk about college. And college education. College was ... brief. Because physics dictates that when you have fun, you have it short and fleeting. When you suffer and grovel on the ground, worrying about the end of the world, you have it long and infinitely. Ok. Back to college. College was ... seriously, I dun quite remember college. All I remember was the people in it. I met a really good friend. She is really sweet. Her name is Efe. Spelling checked. Not Eve. It's Efe. Coz her name is Efelyn. Dun ask me is it spelled that way. It just is. And there was Mr. J. He's really sweet, openminded and compassionate and fun to be with. He is a like a father to me ... one who should be my father ...
Mr. J. He was admitted to hospital recently for heart surgery. Only a few days after his birthday. I should have visited him before. I feel bad. I am a bad student. I should go to his place after the 27th. He's having a hard time paying for his medicine and surgery costs. Maybe I should come up with some money every month for him. I am young. I could always find more money. I need to help him in anyway I could. He's been so kind to me, touched me in ways he didn't know. He's been kind to all his students. I salute this teacher. He deserves a medal for examplary educator.
And then there is Charlene. Intelligent ... and intelligent ... and good person to talk with. XD I like talking to her. I tell her everything. I actually tell everyone everything ... I am an open book. I don't go express my anger everyday, though. In my 3 years time in college, I think I burst 2 times? Maybe less lah. Hahhaa. I dun count leh. But I dun remember there was a time I turned black in my face in front of Charlene. I think most of the time I appear tired lor. Project mah. Haiz. I am thinking of retirement already. :P Ok, ok. Charlene ... hmmm ... hahaha, dunno what to say of her lah! She hardly tell me anything personal wan. XD Always tell me to read her blog. Boring sial. Must hear from own lips mah baru sedap. Kikiki.
Ok. So what is college education? It's an investment lah! Wei, I pay RM30,000 jor you think I dun want some money back ah hah? The bluddy diploma better mean something to my life! Sial!
Friday, January 26, 2007
24/7 Horny
My sex life is so sorry, so non-existing, that I cannot help but keep thinking about sex 24/7. Yeah, call me a slut, bitch, sodomite, whatever awful label or remark you could throw at me. I dare you! But this is my state of mind at the moment.
I tried everything. Masturbation. Cold shower. Being busy. But when I sit down and relax, I want someone to touch every square inch of my skin! Man, I wish I could crawl out of my skin so much so that I am disgusted with myself. I am 22, almost 23, but puberty seems to be never over with me! And it almost like it has just started.
It's been like this for almost over several months now. I might attribute it to the fact that my boyfriend is not paying attention to me. He is working his ass off for his career, to make a living, to cover our shared expenses. I tried to be understanding, alrite? But it doesn't help the chemicals in my body. It's not something to do with my mind! Bluddy hell, I do feel shame! I just can't help it!
Adultery? Is there such a word in the gay world context? Of course not! BECOZ ALL GAY MEN WILL HAVE SEX WITH THE HOTTEST GUY NEXT TO HIM NO MATTER THE MARITAL STATUS. I do love my boyfriend. Hell, what I would give to stay loyal to him. I am a monster. But can I help it? Maybe I should go get a boyfriend who could take an open relationship. I dunno. I am not so keen on the idea myself. If only my boyfriend is more adventurous and see that sex is the gateway to heaven, maybe my sex life will improve. Kinda selfish of me to think this way. But what am I supposed to do?! I am always stuck! I am fucking frustrated! ... And horny, goddammit!
I tried everything. Masturbation. Cold shower. Being busy. But when I sit down and relax, I want someone to touch every square inch of my skin! Man, I wish I could crawl out of my skin so much so that I am disgusted with myself. I am 22, almost 23, but puberty seems to be never over with me! And it almost like it has just started.
It's been like this for almost over several months now. I might attribute it to the fact that my boyfriend is not paying attention to me. He is working his ass off for his career, to make a living, to cover our shared expenses. I tried to be understanding, alrite? But it doesn't help the chemicals in my body. It's not something to do with my mind! Bluddy hell, I do feel shame! I just can't help it!
Adultery? Is there such a word in the gay world context? Of course not! BECOZ ALL GAY MEN WILL HAVE SEX WITH THE HOTTEST GUY NEXT TO HIM NO MATTER THE MARITAL STATUS. I do love my boyfriend. Hell, what I would give to stay loyal to him. I am a monster. But can I help it? Maybe I should go get a boyfriend who could take an open relationship. I dunno. I am not so keen on the idea myself. If only my boyfriend is more adventurous and see that sex is the gateway to heaven, maybe my sex life will improve. Kinda selfish of me to think this way. But what am I supposed to do?! I am always stuck! I am fucking frustrated! ... And horny, goddammit!
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