catharsis

i no longer need this emotional outlet, and i no longer need you.
it feels good.

enough

enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough i enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough is enough

what a crooner

sing sing of sins

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQls53Piuj0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RctAgyp5K4Y
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c18441Eh_WE

lips legs lust

going mad with want

reticence not a forte

it is challenging being the middle management in the family. actually, i'm the top management disguised as middle management. did i mention i'm not even near perfect, still grasping my way into adulthood? yea, i am.

so in the office, things are vastly improving because i've finally gotten a semi grip and done decent work so far at a reasonable pace, not to mention, seriously, the colleagues, interns and fulltimers alike, are really good.

and no, i am not interested in anthony's sob story. there is no more space in my heart for dying parent. i apologise for this imperfection.

then it's home, and then voila, teenage angst meets mid-life crisis. really, papa, choose your scoldings. 1am to scream about a light that is really no big deal ain't gonna help your relationship with your teenaged son. although you probably have some unspoken indignity that you are keeping from us. and boy too, in school, it can't be that easy being the bottom of the barrel, but you will be stronger at the end of this, believe me. even if cynical and jaded, stronger, and a survivor. and survival is key. quality of life is bullshit.

this is not enough to cover expenses. not when i'm up to my eyeballs in debt, i don't know why the house is my sole responsibility now, and i'm still taken to splurging to calm myself down; tears no longer work. well the lovebonito $45 dress is nice, so i guess at least i'll be stunning during cny. and i hate feeling bad about not giving papa more. i hate it, i hate it, i hate it. i am not the fucking mother of this household.

house is messy and nobody listens to me when i ask/scold/plead/advice/scream/cry at them to tidy up their things, not enough shelves, fridge is old, tiles are cracking, stove is spoilt, washing machine aged, utensils few, mattresses fucking old.

this is humiliating. can't even rant to people. type and type.

the professional complex

at mingyang's dining table now. robyn on speakers and keyboard protector cast aside cause it compeltely muffles the audio and robyn is only robyn, loud.

have spent the past 2 weekend completely bumming around and glued to the streets of manhattan, sex, friendship, and neurosis a la carrie bradshaw who is disturbingly familiar.

mingyang's mother just returned with a new haircut. she is one of the coolest mothers around. the previous time, she returned with a wig cause "everything also must try"

i be publishing writing online in april.

back to work kthxbye

night elf

cataclysm's night elf music is sublime beauty.

it is one of those shadow dances with closed eyes caressed by feathery drapes. a slow sweep of lashes, and the gaze is upon you

the finger around your throat are unexpected, swift, and merciless. cold, but this you do not realise -

there are lips at your ear. and the sinister whispers begin, alluring and fatal. these are the last you will hear.