Have you ever have an online chat where there is a reply like this
let me tell you how it turns me off.
my first ex used to dot dot dot his shit when he is pissed bout me.
everytime he does that, its like the arrival of the god of war and I know that somehow, someway.. in some retarded sense I cannot comprehend.. i pissed him off.
up until now.. when people DOT DOT DOT me.. I get the same fucking feeling that i pissed them off.
n in return. it turned me off.
if u have nothing to say. don't reply. don't bother to dot dot dot.
or if u are displeased. say it. u can dot ur ass to buddhist hell.
Have you ever have an online chat where there is a reply like this
Coffee. Smokes. Books.
one is alright. 2 or 3 is fine.
10 is excessive.
patience. love. compromise.
doing it 24/7 for 1 year is alright.. 2 or 3 years is fine.
one whole freaking life is excessive
doting. spending time. bedding.
5 days per week 2 years is alright.. 3 years is fine.
one whole freaking life is tiring.
am I a child?
am I your property?
the sands are running out.. I am empty. too many holes. the punches will hurt more now than ever.
I stretched. lied. was suffocated.
just to prolong the pain from hitting you. each time I made you happy, I killed a little bit of myself.
I am fucking scared. attached too many limbs to my body.. if only I have torn the rest out before attaching another, I wouldn't be such a coward now. of being original. default.
watever fuck u call that shit.
sketched by Haze at 10:51 PM
It would be stupid to say that I am there. I am it. I have it.
I have got everything.
when the 'want' wanes.. and it ain't there no more.
everything is a chore.
"I live in a bubble.. more and more holes pop up.. I have 10 fingers and 10 toes to stop it from bursting.
I am still surviving.
but add another bubble with another person. hence I cannot mend. with only 20 plugs.
I am stretched to the limit.. trying to keep both bubbles apiece."
Ah. fuck the grass. fuck the green grass.
... Once upon a time, I know who I am. lonely, depressed, sick of everyshit, friends who don't mean nothing, feeling like I should help every fucking one in the world.
One day.. I met this guy.. I lost myself to desperation.
turned myself, changed myself into someone I do not know.
The next day, I met a boy..feeling like I should help again, from the V2 I changed and adapted into a V3. another stranger in me.
And I met a man.. I turned into yet another stranger to myself. confining, adapting into a lifestyle that is not me.
Who am I?
Tomorrow, I shall kill all of them with brutal knives of word.
just to find out who I am. just to find out.. who is the New. Me.
"Its difficult and distressing when there is so many holes in the bubble and you are so weary of keeping it patched and floating just to avoid the collateral damage on the people inside the bubble"
How long can you keep it patched. cuz I ain't got long no more.
And yes, I will take the blame. the pain, yet I know there might be no gain. no friends.
but I should be a man. and take it all.
When one have pleasure, the other must have pain.
Are you the one in pleasure or are you the one with the pain?
cuz I am the one with the pain and I wanna have the pleasure. for once.
think of me.
think of myself.
cuz if I don't. who will.
I wanna be at peace.
The diary sat there.
The book. of her last days.
The book that was forbidden to me for 15 years.
The familiar Red Diary she so often scribble in with a wrinkle in her brow in her light blue pajamas.
I couldn't resist but held it close to my nose, hoping to catch a whiff of her scent from the book.
It smelled like an 8 year old girl's tears.
I read it.
How shall I put into words the feelings I felt. Have you ever have someone you were close to, like soul mates in love but now feel nothing for that person due to time and distance?
That was how she were to me, nothingness. I don't love her. I don't know her.
Reading her handwritten words, each pen scratch were like her voice. Our very first conversation. Her explanation of her actions and her requests finally found a voice after 15 years.
And though I felt nothing. remember almost nothing of her but her smell and her antiques.
I cried as her words etched her deep, unmoving love for me and my father.
I feel sad when I read all her dedications to her loved ones, her doctors.
I feel angry when I detect the weakness in her handwriting.
I feel happy. so happy when she jots down our beautiful past together as a perfect family. The family I never remembered finally came to life. and I cried know that what little love and comfort I have now is what she had pleaded my father to give me.
I feel envious of her and doubtful of myself when she declare her love for my father again and again. I guess... you can say you love someone forever when you know you are gonna kill yourself soon. The term, 'forever' becomes legit and true. Her pride and her doting on my father was evident in her last words, I doubt that I can feel or love like her in my current self.
Her words were scattered in random pages. some dates corrected. some pages were scribbled on purpose. She wrote on the back of receipts, documents ... I guess I am somewhat like her. Love to write but nags alot in our writing, repeating each point again with different constructions and structures.
Her last page was marked by the ribbon bookmark before she left us forever.
I had always blamed her selfishness for leaving us dry and bleeding. In truth, she was just being afraid of being a burden to her perfect husband and her wonderful daughter.
Well. I learnt that when you know you are close to death, you try to make a mark on the world. the least you could do is write. write. and write.
and there are alot of numbers. Bank account numbers, lawyers, wills, deposit box...phone numbers scribbled. Who do you call to say goodbye?
She called an empty house. Our old house who was already discarded then. whom she so frequently fondly called, 'Home sweet Home'. Just to hear the happy memories ring .. ring... ring..
Oh. What pain she must have gone thru. What pain he had gone thru. Who am I to cry when I am the one being loved and pampered the most though it's scarce by norm.
I often thought I was unsheltered. Unloved. but infact, in this ugly scenario.. I was already given the maximum bleeding amount of love everybody else can afford.
It's time I admit to myself. I was not traumatized due to my headstrong and cold heart. I was protected all along.
I was fooled by my own perception of myself, of other people's perception of myself. that I am Strong.
When in fact, I am just another sheltered cowardly child.
Fatally wounded and undead, he protected me with a 'collateral damage' mask so that I am.. who I am today.
Which leads me.
Who am I.
I disregard my loved ones.
I am in a mess that I can't get out.
I have yet to experience love like they did.
Very little children will bide by their parents wishes, eventhough most of the time they want the best for us.
but for me. I shall follow her wishes for me.
to be truly happy for myself.
Drastic decisions have to be made.
If you think you know me now, you probably won't soon.
sketched by Haze at 4:12 AM
Since no one freaking read this dead blog.. i m gonna cater it to all my long time friends from mmu n god knows where you know me from.
especially my ex housemates who used to sit through my cooking-obsession to my working-obssession to my gossip and shockingly unhygienic health.
So this is an update bout what has been happening in my life.
Dear people from my traumatic years,
1. I know the truth now.
2. I will be coming back for revenge.
3. I realized my father was right, you were all wrong.
4. I know that yall never did love me, you were just making up for your fucking sins.
5. My dad n I have a strong bond now.
Dear people from my teenager years,
1. I am no longer meek and ugly
2. I am confident and so loud you better run
3. I think I m hotter too.
4. oh. and I smoke and club.
5. I dun really care bout yall but somehow I think I still do cuz when I see yall hang out without me, I asked myself, 'Why am I not there again?'
6. I graduated from MMU last August.
Dear MMU friends,
1. I am still unemployed unless self employed counts
2. I am still as unhealthy.
3. I do not cook anymore
4. I have fun everyday but still make money every month.
5. I am bored even when I am stressed working
6. I learned how to play mahjong and I am addicted to it.
7. I still sleep as random as I used to.
8. Me and David is still together.
9. I am not pregnant
10. I am getting married though (kidding)
11. I miss yall... Happy birthday Charel and Dennis. I bet the letters are struggling to get away from each other due to the souls inhabiting the words 'Charel' and 'Dennis'
12. David is now stuck to a 2 am curfew
13. He also took the California Fitness Gym membership to satisfy my wants for a hot bf
14. We just went Jason Mraz concert. We saw Bayie, Marrisa, Fariq, Chew, Aimran, Fuu and Syikin there just now.
15. His world still evolves around me entirely.
Dear best and close friends,
1. I am still the same.
2. I wonder how all of you are doing in your job
i wonder if i can tag yall to do the same cuz i really wanna know what's going on in your life right now.
Dennis, Calvin, Ivan(die la you), Johnny, Vinn, Charel, Dwong, Auds, Celine, Tan
sketched by Haze at 2:55 AM