the surest way not to have a hangover is abstinence.

i miss someone and he's ignoring me. but it's ok. patience is a virtue.

life's been such a rush-rush lately.

exams. very much a horrid. all the papers were like "omgod-ing bad". just thinking about it is demoralising enough. DEAD. Ah well. glad it's over- uh almost.
been rushing to the hospital alot. grandma's real sick. it's the age thing i suppose. the many regrets that i have never really took the time to sit down and talk to her and all. boy do i miss her-not the one lying in hospital. she has got to be the best grandma. i know she is. her days are numbered. i don't know how i'll be able to deal with this. i hate Death.

torn.

haven't been talking much to my baby. my exams and all. he probably feels damn neglected or nothing at all. ah. i miss that boy alot. ALOT. ah well.

hopelessly in love.

i hate the way i am feeling right now. i have my Lit paper later. ahhhh. i am so not prepared. well, not just for Lit of cos. i mean Lit's my only hope of like doing well, nono, doing better but i am just not Aceing it at alll. this is just the prelims RIGHT? loads of people are gonna do well this time but it will be fooling myself if i say it doesn't matter. i hate to be always at the bottom of the rank. i mean who doesn't. ah. damn the exams.

panic attacks. rant.

and my only source of tech is gone. my handphone just has to fail me at this bloody time. how appropriate and what an omen. -roll eyes- not that i am tech savvy or whatever, but i just cant live without, uh my handphone. if it can't be fixed, i'llllllllllllll just die. i have so many impt messages inside k. that's the most inpt thing. omg. just thinking of it irksssss me. yikes.

i hate this life.
my screwed life.

tastes of life.

bitter sweet.

paradox.

and i've aged.

years nor decades it is not,
but just a mere few days, hours, minutes, seconds ago,
i realised,
i've aged,
and my soul's tired.

the air around so musty,
like dust from a thousand years back.
i can't breathe,
it's suffocating or
is it me who wishes to be dead.

death. morbid as it is.
taboo to many.
but death,
an everyday event,
which calls for a day or celebration
or a day of mourning.

i'm clad in black from head to toe,
and i mourn for a dead me just seconds back.
rejoice, for my soul re-lives,
and hail, for this is the new born me.


i wish for time to stop- right now.