Merdeka?

Well, its been a year and now Merdeka is back...

As usual, its cold tonight and rainy since Spring is here. Ahh, a rainy Merdeka where no one bothers...

Somehow I realized that its the same back home in Malaysia. I mean, how many of us actually bothers to celebrate Merdeka?

I know I dont. The only "Merdeka" thing I did would be seeing the "Merdeka!!!" message on tv at 12 midnight.

Do you all actually go to the parade and wave flags, shouting "Merdeka!! Merdeka wei!! Merdeka!!" ?

In the end, you'll most probably end up at the mamak, having a teh tarik and maggi sup kari..talking about soccer or video games, or have a bowl of soto ayam.

To me, Merdeka would be lepaking back in Malaysia with my comel...having a bowl of soto ayam while watching tv.

Yes. That would be my Merdeka moment..

Muah, love ya.

:*: Untangible and problematic :*:

I'm completely incapable of writing down everything I feel at this moment, so I won't. I get a bloody headache every time I think about anything that concerns my love life at all, so I've decided to simply not think about it. Not too much anyway.

But I've discovered a few things. That people normally take other people more seriously then I do, and that just about everyone I've dated in the past has taken me more seriously then I will dare acknowledge to myself. It is a great big fuck up in the world, but people are fucked up like that. There are so many other girls out there who will give up everything for them, and they have to pick me. I will give what I feel like, and like I said, am an extremely volatile emotional investment. But they've decided to pick me instead. I've a feeling it's precisely because of that. I'm just more fun or at least I think I am. *Shrugs*

And men and women are infinitely different. Women will get back and cry and beg and accuse almost immediately and do so continuously. I think men just put down the phone and sit on it for a long time, years even; then maybe one day, when they decide they really want the person back, they call.

But people are weird sometimes. They get really annoyed when they're sad and they hope the other person feels it too, so I always end up trying to feel what they feel, and when I tell them oh I've made myself sad now, I hope your happy, they tell me to fucking just be happy and can I not be sad. And in Bakry's case, it's even weirder, because he generally just assumes I'm sad, even though I'm pretty darned sure I give him not cause to think that whenever I talk to him.

I'm extremely confused. Everything is hopeless, and we are all fucked. Great.

I am going to stay in the bed for several hours and go for a good dream for even longer and hope I don't have to make any stupid decision in my dreams concerning any stupid thing as un-tangible but yet so darned problematic, like love.

***************************

Meanwhile figure this out for me:

:*: Smooth Criminal :*:

I definitely have no inspiration to write about much today, although (as usual) in the course of the last few hours, many nice things have happened.

I really do think there are two kinds of people in this world, the people that live activity filled lives, and the people that don't.

I mean, how is it possible that without trying, 6 hours out of any day of my existence can be more exciting then an entire week of someone else's.

Oh well, toodles.

* No, I'm not caught for condoms smuggling. Take it more like a Celebrity in the making...caught infront of her house taking the newspaper by a Paparazzi. Lol, such a Vain Pot.

Note : Me with a pink bag, well you can only see the strap.

On a lighter note :

PHOENIX : In her days working as an escort or as a stripper at Christy's Cabaret, Brandi Hungerford wore skimpy outfits or, for a premium, nothing at all. On Thursday, the 28-year-old star witness walked into Robert "Dakota" Lemke's capital murder trial wearing distinctly unsexy black-and-white prison stripes and pink handcuffs.

* Pink handcuffs ? My friends gonna get disgusted over this one.

Bondage a go-go me baby.

C..cc...ccooolddd....

Sigh, its so cold today. Had to wake up really early to get to uni for a group discussion. Then found out that my partner is coming to uni a bit late, so I decided to take a nap before going to uni..a short nap that is. But I woke up at 11.30am instead. ahahha..

Made some good progress tho, so its all good.

Had my Kick boxing as usual til around 7...and got home at 8..had a shower..dinner..etc.. and around 12.30am, realized that my right ankle is swollen! OMGWTFBBQ??!!

So I had to wrap it a bit, but that doesnt seem to work tho.

I got hungry at around 2am, so went to KFC for a snack...well...4 small pieces of chicken... sigh, the chicken you get here is way smaller compared to those in KL. Haha..Malaysia boleh!

Miss my comel! Sayang awak ok?

Muah.

Its already 4.30 am..comel mesti marah I ni .

:*: Voices :*:

I talk about silly things like that over the phone at 45c/minute.

What I'm wearing, H****, Wet K****,
Where's my ***d, Where's his h***,
Shower, Bed, Holiday plans.

Yesterday evening, after a long while, and a great long while at that, Bakry and I finally got down to contacting each other with an ancient invention called the telephone. He said Hi, and all of Microsoft's efforts at taking online conversation to the fifth dimension fell flat. Web-camming and MSN's with smilies?...Couldn't live up to the pleasure that hearing his voice brought. (I know, I should get the mic and my cam fixed. Huh.)

Conversations over the whimsical little fantasies we have for ourselves.

I don't normally (if ever) feel this way with people. It's usually silly to feel this way. All that's rational in you tells you your stupid to believe in anything like that. But I don't want to care.

Things were probably different a few months back, compared with now. But I'm glad we're still together. Because even after nearly 1 month since he got back here for holiday, his voice still sounds exactly like how I remembered it, and hearing it makes it as if he were really here.

And I laugh, and he laughs, and it's like we're playing with the sheets and throwing pillows at each other before we tumble into bed.

He's gentle, cute, and secretly romantic .

He promised that he'll be back on a holiday come November. Well, we've managed it this far. With undulating periods of on and offs no doubt, but it's been managed. I'm sure something will work itself out.

And if it doesn't, at least it made me feel damn good about everything for awhile.

Real damn good. It's strange hey. He's all on the otherside of the world, but he can still make me feel better then anyone here possibly can.Or perhaps it's just the way I am.

My imagination's fantastic like that. Capable of turning everything into the most incredibly poetic symphony in my head, my heart and my gut when it so chooses to.

I love him so very much. I guess I'm being terribly stupid. And LDRs (that's long distance relationships for the uninitiated -shame on you! In this day and age? And you haven't discovered the joys of loving someone on the otherside of the world?), maybe they are really all just about imagination and being in love with the impression of someone you chat to for a couple of hours a day.

But who cares. Talking to him makes me feel elated, makes me forget about every shitty problem I have, makes me feel like I connect.

I like how he is. How he never worries about anything, how it doesn't matter if he'll be busy when I'm around; He'll make time and make sure I have a good time.

I've been sort-of sick for three days now. What a way to spend the lovely month of August, I know. But now I'm really, truly sick, finally. It's just one of those things you've been waiting for to just come ON already so you can get it over and done with.

Walking in the rain last night was the ultimatum.

I've got this horrible habit where I prefer to get drenched over hassling with an umbrella. Besides, how sexy is a wet white top?

Don't know, but it's definitely not worth getting a 39 Deg fever.

I shall crash on my bed and never wake up.

:*: I love his Waist and He's Sexy :*:

Or was it me who's Horny ?

I hadn't seen him in awhile, and he's gone to Australia ( which we ALL know that ). I was looking at his pictures last night, and thought, Damn! He's really quite small built after all. His hair's all grown out now, and I thought he looked really cute with all the little curls he used to have. I think his Waist is Sexy too.

Every time I spend my day with him, I really like cuddling him, although it does make for some very restless sleep. I don't like it when I can't come over; falling to sleep in that embrace where the curve of my back fits onto his body, with his hands holding my arms (you can do that with small,petite body like me) is just too priceless.

I found the perfect song that should pretty much sum up my attitude today. I've listened to it countless times before, only, I never really listened to it. It's Sleep Together, by Garbage.

If we sleep together
Will you like me better
If we come together
We'll go down forever
If we sleep together
Will I like you better
If we come together
Prove it now or never

Make me a pretty person
Make me feel like I belong
Make me hard and make me happy
Make me beautiful

The emptiness
The craziness
Satisfy this hungriness


**Two Random Observations**
1) People give me multi-vitamins. I have absolutely NO idea why, but I am consistently being offered multi-vitamins, especially after meal, or too much fizzy drinks. Usually both.

2) Nestle Cereal is stupid. Kellogg Cereal is stupid. They refine the wheat till there's no nutritional value what so ever, add alot of refined sugar, artifical flavour, and then proceed to add vitamins artifically. Why don't they just give our kids the real thing?

:*: Me , Dead ? :*:

This is really Weird.

When I was young, (well not saying I'm old enough now) probably around 15 years of age, I have all these scribbles I wrote, and as I was going through one of them, I found this really queer one that made no sense whatsoever.

Go figure! Because I can't.

**********

Dear Diary,

I just died. I don't know how, but I did. One moment I was drinking a glass of Coke, and the next thing I knew, I was well, dead. I have no idea what my friends will say when they find me like this the next weekend they come to visit. I've tried dragging the body into the garden, but to no avail. Dead people aren't all that good at burying themselves, really.

Everything on earth looks strangely kitschy and badly colored, the sort of tones you get in an indy art-house film that's trying too hard. The coke's a strange sort of red-brownish, but it doesn't matter. I can't seem to drink it anyway.

Right now, I don't quite know what to do, so I'm just standing around in my room making up the first entry in the diary of a truly reborn soul.

I have a body that can't die now. Isn't that amazing?

I'm attempting flight at the moment, ghosts always could fly in the cartoons I watched as a kid. And those cartoons didn't lie. Dead people CAN fly. But it's not how I thought It'd be though. It's not like flying with wings, or floating about like David Copperfield.

That's so boring. Flying, when you're really, truly dead is akin to being omniscient. I don't quite know how to describe it, but I can be in so many places at once, know so many things, see the whole picture and see into everyone's little detailed lives.

I can lift myself a little, just up to the top of my roof, and the little street I spent the last few years in spreads out till...well, till the end of the street. I can project myself up, all the way into the cosmos, and the cyclones and all the oceans, and the Great Wall of China and most of Shanghai, sticking out of the earth, her buildings in all their magnificent dislocation; they all spread out before me.

And I can see someone's panties. They're black, with pink polka dots and little fake diamonds on them.

Zoom in, zoom out.

:*: Whine :*:

Sometime back I condemned reality, something I presently wish I could offer my apologies to, if it were possible. But it incessantly eludes me, with fact and fiction void of definition within my little space.

You can never know anything, because life will always be more capricious then any fickle-minded fancy you are capable of conjuring. I have proven it to myself. I can never imagine half of the shit that happens to me.

Is the fault then to be found in our stars, or in ourselves, that we are underlings?

Are our fates ever stagnant, can we ever make decisions based on complete information? Is there such a thing as all-inclusive, non-partial information.

Blame this sudden bout of philosophical intrusion on the rain I managed to get caught in. I suppose I stayed in it because it had seemed like such a terribly romantic thing to do. You can now tell me how erotic drizzle on a pitch-black silken tarred road, glossed over with warm-street lights can be. And I would understand.

Probably this blog after all can be changed to " The Daily Whinings of Eryn ".

Haha ?

:*: Crazy at the Moment :*:

It's such a fabulous day today for feeling upset. It's been drizzling quite a bit since late morning, and that always makes me start wondering about things like my self-worth and living in the moment, and other nonsense like that. I don't think about the former very much any more though, but it used to be a reliable topic for musing on when I was an adolescent. I'd just sit around for ages trying to figure out if other people were worth as much as I was. If they were nearly as sentient as I was.

Did what they think matter? If the adults yelled at me, were they really yelling at me, or was it just some flaw in the mechanism; Did they have thoughts like mine, and if so, what do I care if they did. Why should someone else's thoughts matter to me?

And then I thought that I thought too much and wished there were some way I could just blank out my mind and look at things as they were. As if they were linked to no memories, with no pasts, no images that linger in my mind. You can do it for awhile, but you can't sustain it. Maybe 3 minutes, and then you start thinking about how horrid life is. What a real drag it can be, with all its funny little shits, dumping so many things upon your shoulders.

Why must we wear clothes ?
I feel the weight of my baby-tee.

It's a simple little inconvenience that makes you realize how everything's just out there to dump things onto you. Dump clothes on our backs and food into our stomachs and unwanted memories into our minds.

Right now, I'd like to buy a plane ticket to see Bakry and hope the plane crashes while I'm at it.

:*: Hedgehog Babies :*:

*Picture taken from Boing Boing

We saw hedgehog in the zoo, but have you ever see hedgehog's baby before? Here you are. Aren't they cute ? If you look closely, you can actually see their lil willies, thats what my bf said. Cute !