just because

Sketching like, absently, really helps.

Helps clear the mind.

Helps me breathe normally.

Helps to relax.

It's an awesome feeling.

To be at ease.

=)

Was cleaning my table.

Found the stack of animation papers.

The butt.

The balls.

The orang utan.

The sexy lady.

Poncho.

I miss Year 1 Sem 3.

A lot.

Doodles.

More doodles.

I love the far-away feeling I get when I sketch and just forget.

speechless

I'm this angry. To the point that I don't even know how to frown anymore. Can't feel the boiling bubbling thing inside like I always do, like people always do, when they're angry. I don't even feel like shouting at you anymore. I'm tired. Fucking tired. Of you. Of your shits. Your immaturity. Your plain stupidity. You. It's just you.

I lived my life up to this point cleaning up your shit. Think I might need to live the rest of my life doing that too. Thanks, but no thanks. I've got my own mess to clear too. Coz I don't freakin get other people to get me outta whatever dump I landed myself into. I get up and get out the hard way. I learn. I try. And I fight. The right way.

Your situation now? Don't think I could ever achieve that even if I reincarnate a thousand times. A hundred thousand times. The best thing is, it has absolutely nothing to do with me, but is related to me in every single fucking way. How am I suppose to deal with that?

I tried to let you in. Honestly. And I think I can shamelessly say here that I almost successfully did so. It's pretty easy actually. I'm a soft fellow. But you have to be so retarded. And selfish. Stubborn. Foolish. Cheater. You have no idea. The amount of hurt you've granted to people. You should've seen their faces. The number of times you broke the hearts of people who care for you. They cared for you. You haven't the faintest idea how much tears those around you have shed because of you. Don't get me wrong, they did not cry for you. I feel sorry for them. Sorry for myself. Fuck.

You were once someone I thought I could relate to. Someone whom I thought of as a companion. A friend in numerous ways. But now, you are past tense. You are not worthy of my time. At all. You don't deserve even my tiniest bit of attention. I'd rather die than use my last kilojoule of energy on you. I'll be as selfish to you as you were to me, and many others.

I don't think what I say here matters to you anyway. Nothing anybody else says matters. Nobody matters. Coz all you've got filled in that empty skull of yours is who-the-hell. Not true? Too bad. Coz that's what I think. Oh it matters to you now? Give a fuck. You great pretender.

I hope you find your brain that you left somewhere soon. And freakin use it. You've dragged me along with you this far. I can't go any further. Please, I'm exhausted. I don't wanna freakin cry without tears anymore. Shit. But good job on all the damage done.

b & w

Finished?

Yes.

Omigawd.

What?

Ya gonna try colourin' it?

Uhh.

Forget it.

Okay.

life's like that

A young man asked an old rich man how he made his money. The old man fingered his worsted wool vest and said, "Well, son. It was 1932, the depth of the Great Depression. I was down to my very last cent.

I invested that one cent in an apple. I spent the whole day polishing the apple and sold it for 10 cents at the end of the day.

The next morning, I invested those 10 cents in two apples. I spent the entire day polishing them and sold them at 5.00 p.m. for 20 cents. I continued this system for a month. By the end of the month, I accumulated $1.37."

The young man listened, rapt. He urged the old man to continue.

The old man went on, "Then my wife's father died and left us two million dollars."

friend me laaa

I tried to make friends with my Photoshop colours.

I was at my nicest, most polite, friendliest self.

But they still don't seem to like me.

Prolly because it was like, 2 in the morning.

People don't try to make friends at 2 freekin a.m. kan?

Oh well.

Better luck next time.

**Photoshoppp-uh!!**

***Why won't you like me?!?!!***

books

I am now the proud owner of...

*Jeng! Jeng! Jeng!*

The Art of Ratatouille!

Summa the pages inside.

I don't understand why some people find this movie disturbing.

And eww-y. And gross. And wrong.

I think it has a cool concept.

And you need like, a gazillion gallons of creativeness and imagination to be able to come up with something like this.

It's not eww-y!

The Art of How To Train Your Dragon!

Long title I know.

Random pages.

First time looking at Dreamworks stuff in such detail.

I'm starting to find that I might like Dreamworks' style after all.

After all the weyy-Pixar's-the-best-nothing-can-compare-to-it-can opinions.

Dreamworks is.. Well heyyy. Whad'ya know? =)

And

BENJAMIN. The Best Collection.

XD

Needless to say.

It's awesome.

100% digital paint.

He's known as

oh-the-guy-who-colours-with-highlighters

to Kevin the Great Ancient.

But seriously.

This guy punya sense of colours.

o.O

*drops jaw*

*picks up jaw*

*attaches jaw*

I can stare at one page for like, 20 minutes.

There're like, more than 125 pages, that book.

I need uhhh..

*20 times 125'll gimme.. Uhh.. A few thousands.. Gotta divide that with uhh.. One hour got 60 minutes.. 60 minutes arr.. Uhhh.. How many thousands was that? $@%#^&#@ 20 times 125.. uhh.. 2500 divide..*

..approximately

FORTY HOURS.

To finish staring at that book.

you nice?

It's tough being nice y'know that?

It's horribly tough.

I mean, this Chinese MakCik marched into the store where I was working at earlier and demanded to know the price for EVERY SINGLE piece of clothing there is. And before I can finish answering,

she asked "This?"

and I was like "This is thirty-"

and then she went "How about this?"

so I said "Oh it's eighty-nine nin"

then she "This one?"

AND I WAS LIKE "FUCK"

Nah I just kept quiet coz then she walked pass a long row of clothes and said "This? This? This? This?" WTF CAN?! Then suddenly she was bragging about "You know or not? I've lived in Singapore for twenty years. And I've SEEN all these before. These aren't even quality goods." Bla bla bla blabla. Go dig your nose.

I wonder how XiaoQing does it.

I've never even seen her roll her eyes!

Pft you lived in Singapore big deal. *rolls eyes*

Qing! Roll your eyes with me c'mon!!

My eyes are so tired from all the rolling. Nowadays. Recently. Uhh, sometimes I only imagine me rolling 'em. At someone. And when I'm driving, if someone, I mean, if the driver in the other car pisses me off, I pass him/her by and I SHOW THAT FELLA MY FINGER. My little finger. Geez coz I'm polite. Oooomg I'm gonna be so effing racist here but OMGGG MALAY LADIES WHO WEAR TUDUNG MAKE THE WORST WORST WORST DRIVERS. Ever! I mean, already the ladies have reputation for being the worse drivers. In general. Heyy no wait that isn't true. Some guys drive like effing NOOBS ya know. So anywayy. OMG HOW DID YOU MALAY-TUDUNG LADIES GET YOUR LICENSES???

Tomorrow some I.S.A. people gonna come knocking at my door.