Ill again

The throbs in my head faster than my heart;
I cannot breathe properly,
not enough blood being pumped to my body,
A dry lump in my throat.
I'm in such pain, no it's not my fucking brain!
Nor my malfunctioning body;
My soul, my soul...
The shattered pieces pieced together,
have been shattered once again..
by the ones I thought I loved,
by the ones I loved,
by the ones I love..
For their own selfish needs,
Have you realised what you've done to me?

I'm a freakin' banana Pt.2

Some of my classmates just can't seem to understand why I sway the other way...The fact that I don't like being associated with boys of my own race.

Why? I look at home & cry at my dad who fits the China man/ah beng stereotype perfectly..in other words; boring. Boring. Boring. I can't imagine how life would be if I end it with a Chinese; oh wait..I can..hmm, predictable, routine, and a hum-drum contented-ever-after cycle of life.

Okay, so not all of them are that bad. I've met some interesting characters in the past. But these people I've met are definitely not available; or have been taken up by some other lucky bananas already. Argh!, I missed the train again. What more, I'd have communication problems with him. So, alright, I'm not that bad at speaking my mother tongue, in fact~ I've been practising everyday with my Chinese-ed classmates. Oh yeah, have I mentioned that there are 3 more bananas in my class? Same like me, they were too lazy to use the language in their school years, that they forgot it almost entirely! I'm so lucky..hahaha~

I need excitement! Which is what I see people of the other races have. Everything spontaneous, fun & thrilling. Everyday something not expected. Of course, life would be more of a risk then...as you never know what trials might come your way. So why do I sway the other way, when I can have a safe, stable life with an ah-beng? Cause I cannot stand a static life...simply said & done.

P/S: Plus, I love the colour contrast of skin against each other, sexy! Woo hoo~Lolz~

Neither here nor there

I love my body.
The shape.
The way my skin sticks to the bones.
My Bow legs.
Every scar on the surface.
The petiteness.
The hourglass with very narrow tops.

But now I'm having doubts. Back in my hometown, I was the small girl. The title was bestowed upon me by some guy. Now in the city, I see so many more pint-sized girls. 3-feet-lotus-women. And boy, do they look good. Suddenly I feel awkward. I can't be labeled small, big, or A-O-K. I"m a bloody misfit! Sigh, I worry too much about these stupid things.

No Joy at all

Those living in Malaysia, you've probably already heard all the hullabaloo of that "removing-the-religion-from-the-IC" issue. About how some think it's right while others feel that it's a sign on how their rights are being withheld. It's painful yes, but amid all that chaos & so-called-under-control, I found something particularly tickling:

One local TV station highlighted the incident of the crowding outside the high court, awaiting the results of the appeal, describing it as a gentle gathering. How brilliant! How absolutely witty yet so careful! Despite all that tension on free speech & hush-hush, you, have managed to slip in a bit of humor into that entire furor.

I salute the local media