Hot Afternoon

29 Jan 2005
Time: 14:08
Mood: Friggin' steamed by the humidity

I've said this once, I'll say it again -- Thinking of titles for something as ordinary as a blog entry makes me nuts. Its way stupid! Its way non-descript. Its not like if I come back months later and check the title I'll know what the blog is about, anyway. But if you don't put one, it makes that entry non-entity, non-existent, non-bla bla bla.

Secondly. I have friends. I know I do. Those who left their comments, those who rail me for thinking like that, those who read and left, ...I do. I thank y'all.

A big. fat. THANK YOU.

Haven't been online for quite a few days now, if you noticed...my phoneline was down. Whenever I pick it up, there's a loud buzz and a "do do do do" (tak paham? engaged tone la!) and I discovered, well, my dependency on the net isn't...chronically incurable afterall! True, I have nothing to do at night, except read, watch tv, pack my room up, listen to CDs, ...wow. What a boring life...heheh. I haven't yet reached a point of finality -- I've packed over 8 boxes out of my room so far -- even after the contents of my drawers and nooks and cranies are being emptied slowly, sorted, considered, thrown out or saved from the bin. It felt strange to sleep without the glow-in-the-dark stars on my wall, it felt strange not being able to grab a book out of my shelf to read, and it's totally alien to me that my drawers now sounded hollow when I bang it.

We move on 15th Feb 2005. A mere 2 weeks and some away. This sucks. I love my current house. I love my current room. I love the back view (even if it's now consist of only one tree...) and I love the privacy all these offer. My new room faces somebody's kitchen! If I pick my nose anybody can see it! It never happened to me before, I've lived in Taman Maluri, Cheras; City Garden Condo, Ampang; and here in Selayang, never had I have I room that faces somebody else's backyard. Its smaller! Its hotter! Its...its...well. Not that I have a choice anyway. I've been informed warned by my mom the fucker painter cut his costs and use PINK (fine, ICI Delux Pearl-glo Rose Pink, if you want to get technical) on my wall instead of ORANGE because that's the color (pink, that is) of my mom's room. Oh God. I so want to screw him. SCREW him. SCREW! SCREW! SCREW! Now my room is a gorgeous blue, green and....pink. I've had enough of pink! 8 years ago I walked into my current room to discover its pink. I...I....*dissolves into unintelligible gibble*

Heck. No use. Can only salvage. Who'd know 5 kilos of muck paint can cost RM90.90? No way I'm digging that out for the orange I want. *mumble mumble*

Oh. Read this in The Star:
The two may be worlds apart, mutually exclusive, running parallel. But I’ve become the bridge between these parallel lines, and I enjoy it. For me at least, these paths seem to converge, and gently touch in the distant horizon. ---Hema

I....well. I used to write in a style similar to that. Reading it jolted me. Its as though I could've written it. I've never written that way in ages. There's no outlet to. It's too dramatic for college assignments. Worst, thanks to Writing for Mass Comm last semester, I've consciously strived to write matter-of-factly. Just like a member of the media. Thus, I've forgotten about writing that way. This is sad. I want to strangle my lecturer.

KennyDaBear made this comment,
U doubt that u had friends?! OMG! Then I so~~ san fu go find all da MP3 for u for nuts arr?! Geez... never doubt u have friends okayy... Lolx! ; p