*toot toot*

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The number you have dialed cannot be reached at the moment.

Please try again (much) later.

Thank you.

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Nombor yang anda dial tidak dapat dihubungi.

Sila cuba sebentar lagi.

Trima kasih.

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Ni shuo bo de dian hua...

*bu zhi dao bu zhi dao bu zhi dao*

Xie xie.

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i painted

These!

Shoes: provided by cousin.

Materials: eeny weeny brush and acrylic paint.

Paint job started: February 2010

Paint job ended: August 2010

Ini lah tarak guna punya freelancer.

Hahahahah~

Oh well.

=.="

i admit

I had an affair last night.

But gawd it felt good.

Sweating.

Panting.

Screaming.

Running.

Dribbling.

Shooting.

I'd do it again. Anytime.

Rose says,

"We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.

"There are only four secrets to staying young. Being happy. Achieving success. You have to laugh and find humour everyday. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die.

"We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!

"There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.

"Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets.

"They elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear deaths are those with regrets..."

***Growing older is mandatory. Growing up is optional.

temper

I use to think I'm a patient person. I have GREAT amount of patience. I can stand annoyance and buggers and anything related to the word "irritation" for a very salute-able length of time.

Not now. Any simple thing. A word, a gesture, a facial expression, just about anything could trigger the bomb in me. Then I frown. I sulk. I keep quite. Or I talk like I'm shouting.

Anger is very hard to suppress.

For a very long time, I never let out my anger openly. Only when things get beyond my control, I cry. It's always tears of anger. I cry till I can't cry anymore then I vomit it all out to someone. A close friend usually.

Not now. I dare myself to spill the hatred out. I dare myself to act like my angry self. To do things my otherwise-patient-self would not do, for the sake of not hurting others. I dare myself to hurt others.

And I hate myself after that.

That is, if I hurt people who didn't do anything to me. Who might be oblivious to what sparked my anger. Who might have no idea at all that they were the one who made my upset.

I would apologize later on. When all the damage is done. When I feel so helplessly sorry. I would apologize.

If you hurt me first. If you do something you know would make me throw up flames. Then I have no qualms making your life miserable. Or I'll simply cut you off completely. You mean nothing to me then.

It's rare. RARE. That I lose my temper. But it happens pretty often now.

I think I lost myself somewhere. I lost the ability to be optimistic. Lost the chill factor. Lost the child in me. I lost me. My dreams. My ambition. My will to do things that matter. Fuck.

I don't wanna be a lost case.

Four years. For four years now, I've been trying to collect myself. Restore myself. I want to feel like myself. Not behaving like what I'm expected by others. But it's becoming a habit. And habits are not easy to get rid of.

To myself,

If you have to, gather your guts. Use it for beneficial purposes. Using your guts to harm in any way, is a cowardly act.

If it's necessary, stand up. Stand up for yourself. For people you care for. For what you know is right. Otherwise, shut up.

Now, go sit in a corner and think of what you've done today. Learn. And grow up. Mature from the lessons you've learned. And never forget.

But with that idiot brain, I doubt you'll remember anything past midnight. Try anyway, okay.

someday

For all you stressed-out peeps out there.

(and myself, no kidding)

Don't give up just yet.

Persevere.

Endure.

Just hang on.

Things will get better.

And you'll never wish you feel more alive.

You can go
You can start all over again
You can try to find a way to make another day go by
You can hide
Hold all your feelings inside
You can try to carry on when all you want to do is cry

Now wait
And try to find another mistake
If you throw it all away then maybe you can change your mind
You can run, oh
And when everything is over and done
You can shine a little light on everything around you
Man, it's good to be someone

'Cause maybe someday
We'll figure all this out
We'll put an end to all our doubt
Try to find a way to just feel better now and
Maybe someday we'll live our lives out loud
We'll be better off somehow, someday

And I don't want to wait
I just want to know
I just want to hear you tell me so
Give it to me straight
Tell it to me slow

'Cause sometimes we don't really notice
Just how good it can get
So maybe we should start all over
Start all over again

really

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs.

Ask yourself what makes you come alive.

And then go and do that.

Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

-Anonymous

So, CheaWen,

What do you wanna do?

"....I wanna see my artwork move."

90 mins past monday

It's 1.30 a.m. and I've just murdered a cockroach.

Anywayyy, it's MONDAY?! Already?!! Time passes real fast when you're painting. As in painting the walls. Of your house. Mengecat, y'know. Wearing the folded newspaper hat thing. No laa I didn't have time to make one. Mum was already barking. Jior! I want my Sunday back! I've been painting since 12 noon weyy. That's TWELVE freekin HOURS for you. I mean me. No break. Awesome, no? No. And I spent so much time in the bathroom just now omigawd. Had to scratch myself wtf. (sounds damn weird but I literally did) Scratched so much I came out of the bathroom like baru habis kena torture. Kena cane. Kena whip. Close to that.

My arms are aching like eff. My feet are even worse; from climbing up and down the super unstable crooked 10-year-old ladder. I think we painted 1024m2 of pale yellow, lao-sai-green and creamish-green walls. And we're not done! There's still the living room! Someboday shoot me.

Oh yeah. Shower. Spots and spots and more spots of paint spotted everywhere on my limbs! Found some on my chest near the boobs too. Mehhh wondered how they got there. And my nails are *sigh speechless* memang fail case. Paint in my hair and brows. My brows. My brows? Paint on elbow was most difficult to get rid of! Coz no matter how I twist and turn and bend my arm, I can't see (full view) my elbow! Both elbows! Paint on sole of feet. I rubbed so much Shokubutsu on it (was sitting on the toilet bowl) when I stood up I nearly fell. Why not? If I did, I would've hit my butt bruised my arms cracked my skull pengsan straight. Kan bagus? No need to go to work tomorrow.

I'm all clean now and enjoying my totally deserved 1 liter of iced Milo. Which I made after staining everything in the kitchen with Ridsect. The cockroach was so determined to live!

Where's that YokoYoko when you need it? My aaaaaarms!

class assignment

Here's what we did in Illustration Fundamental earlier.

We were supposed to finish these two pieces in three hours.

A lot of time, you say?

Hell no!

I mean, for people who seriously have issues with colours.

Like me.

And what's a class assignment doing in my bag?

Ter-brought it back and handed in last week's marked assignment.

S.m.a.r.t.

There are two pieces.

But the other one's just too un-nice to stick it up here.

Hahahah!

Heyyy after the so-totally-embarrassing previous post,

gotta put up something not-totally-embarrassing laa kan?

As usual laa,

syok sendiri.