I haven't been here for so long, this place feels a little strange already. Largely because,
1. I've grown up a little
2. I'm tired out
3. I now believe in point forms.

I used to think writing in point form is a literal (literally) suicide. I used to think how distasteful it was to break your beautiful sentences into snippets of constipated fragments. Now I use them so often. I've got no time for punctuation anymore.

The boy has flown off to Taiwan. Last night. We were sitting at T1 viewing mall when I started to tear. Not the heartwrenching, painful crying. But something that came unexpectedly. I wasn't feeling any intense emotion. But subconsciously, my system was telling me that this isn't going to be easy. The previous time he went to India, for 2 weeks, I almost died. He's going to spend 3 weeks over in Taiwan this time. I have no idea how I can continue to function when he's gone. With my work driving me nuts, I depend heavily on Sugar for comfort. He is my frustration vent. Now I can only implode in silent screams. ARGHHHH.

Alright. It's Friday evening. I just had a conference call just now. Am going to sleep early tonight. I hope I can sleep his absence away.

You might think it's strange that I'm feeling all whiney about his departure. But we function like a retired couple. We're one another's lifeline.

I shall stop being so manja.

BKK and Wisdom Teeth

Never have I lived such a fulfilling life before as I did last week. I went to BKK on Tuesday and Wednesday for work, came back and went for wisdom tooth op on Thursday, and I'll be suffering from all the pain till tomorrow. I took out 3 teeth, of which, only one was a normal extraction. The other two needed some serious slicing open, drilling, and stitching up. It seems that the area around those severed enamels are very traumatized. Because they're aching for now reason. God I hate it. And my face still swells and hurts.

Well, the BKK trip awakened the wanderlust in me, again. Well, I'd really wish for a hardcore, shopping packed trip there with the boy but my work schedule doesn't allow that kinda luxury, neither can I do it financially. Having bought that w960i, which I have been growing to detest, I am broke, kinda. Set me back on some savings that's making me sore till now. Godammit. I should never have bought that phone. Texting is a major pain deep in the ass.

Anyways, I've been having so much fun making my boy look gay on photoshop.



There you go!

My first business trip

Yeah. I'll be leaving for BKK bright early tomorrow morning. My parents are sweet enough to fetch me there, though I have to check in at like. 6.30am? Well. They're the best. I know. And my boy is the best to me to. Sometimes I just need to channel all my energy to thinking about the positive things in my life. How I still have loads of positivity surrounding me amidst the grueling fksht. Yeah.

I'll be having my graduation ceremony soon. Also, I'll be collected my degree (and you thought they were the same thing?) on the same day at another place. Dang. Okay la. My second upper honours piece of paper.

It came to my shocking realization that next week, I'll only be working for 3 days because of my potential wisdom tooth op MC and also, good friday. I never planned it out to be that way, though it looks too much like a convenient case of Chao Keng.

So many things happening huh? I have more to tell. But not much energy to. Oh by the way, I think I can manage a 100 wpm now, after I've started working here. Haha. Super typist.

Okay goodnight now. I have to wake up in 4 hours. Dangggg.

He scored a one time pass.

My babe managed to pass his driving test on his first attempt. Impressive, considering how nervous he sounded, and how insomniac he got the night before (and dare he accuse me of waking him up for my innumerous toilet breaks. i think i'm losing my bladder.)

Well, the working life is really taking its toll on me. And yet again, I'm not dissatisfied by my job, but I'm dissatisfied by myself. I want to be faster, quicker-minded. Maybe I should get myself a qualitative job. Maybe I should just put to use what I always liked. But then, we all have to start somewhere. And inertia comes in the form of ignorance.

My life is so stagnant these days, it scares me. I appreciate peace, I do. But all this deafening silence is making me extremely irritable, and Sugar incidentally bears the brunt of it all. I am so demoralised these days that I yell at him for nothing, and I have conveniently stopped making sweet things for him.

I BOUGHT him a birthday card (I used to insist on making them) and I haven't thought of what to get for him for Valentine's, and so I conveniently offered to get him a pair of jeans. No brain activity needed. I think, that's it. When your pocket allows for materialism, your mind loses creativity. Damn.

Sometimes I wonder how it'd be like if I were in a different place altogether. And then I'll be looking at my current situation and start to think how wonderful it is to have a stable job and stable relationship and yeah. Stability.

When I finish paying off my loans, I'll continue studying. And then I can become some lecturer or something. And step out of the office.

Please tell me I look younger now.

For the New Year

I'll be 24 years old on the lunar calendar this coming Chinese New Year. And although I can practically feel my skin collagen sap away, and feel my skin cells dying at the rate of a bullet train, I try very hard to not to feel like an adult. A full blown adult, that is. Because I hardly feel a day past 19 (mentally). All I can do now, is to sigh at how days, months and years have passed since my happy, dandy days, and how everything is tinted with such seriousness these days, that I'm getting worn by this corporate game.

Everything has deadlines now. I used to have weekly datelines that I always kept in check. Now I have daily ones that spring out to my surprise because it got pushed to the back of my head. And it's horrifying. I think of work till the minute before I doze off, I dream of work, I practically dream about my colleagues every night, even on the bus ride to work, the only thing I can think about is a holiday, that can restore my petty sense of youth again. Like. Exuberance, vitality, whatever. I'm so grouchy about my state of life now, I scare myself.

And it's sickening. Because I realised that it won't be long before I get entangled by this desperate desire for all things expensive, branded and luxurious. When I swapped my plastic for a $53 pair of denim skirt, something I'd never have done before now, it struck me that this is going to stick with me for life. I realised. I am very materialistic. Omg.

Maybe I should go find a hobby. Or clear up my mind by writing a novella. Go back to writing poetry, that makes me so in tune with my senses and mind. I'm so numb these days, and I am going to devise a plan to get back all that interest that I used to have in all things intricate, unique, and, me.

I don't even take narcissistic portraits anymore. Dang. Maybe Sugar and I should try something new. Uh oh. Am I in that void stage of life, post teenage, pre-marriage + kids...Meaning, I'm in a transition stage of my life? Whatever we make of life is moudled by our own frame of mind and reference. I AM GOING TO CHANGE THAT.

I'll post up pictures in my next post. Okay. Time for revival.

Bleak. Bleah.

Too often in my life, I find myself disliking someone everyone this is Samaritan, eloquent, and whatever that frothy flattery can get you.

I have learnt to not waste my effort trying to put up with people I fail to appreciate, or people who fail to appreciate me. Growing up, I've learnt how to say no to some people.

I believe I've grown about about the angsty blogging phase, taking pictures of myself, editing them, putting them up like laurels. I'm growing tired. And materialistic, hedonistic. I don't want things that are so arcane anymore. I want things that are easy to digest, easy to understand. I want to see the destination of my journey. No more adventurous searching, seeking, recce-ing.

I'm so tired, I'm almost depressed. Wow.

Sometimes it's just a more viable option to shut up, suck it all up. And move on.

Wardrobe Massacre

I was packing my wardrobe(s) (I have two by the way...) for the 200th time since I had them, and started colour sorting them (I miss using UK English, because the American company has all Marcom stuff in American English, pretty obviously and I very much prefer realisation to realization.)

I packed all my new UNWORN clothes and I realised I have AN ENTIRE BIG IKEA BOX FILLED WITH NEW CLOTHES. Thanks very much. I know I'm over spending.

But one can never have too much of clothes, and shoes, of course. I have so many pairs of shoes, I have to hide some in wardrobe so that I can survive wearing them out and telling my Mom "It's from very long ago!!"

My prowess is astonishing. And I'm still short of that grey long cardigan I saw this pretty Minah wearing. Hohoho.

I want it. And I know some pasar malam stalls sell it for 10bucks. I saw it, but I bought the black one instead. DAMN!

Disgust.

I do not appreciate the existence of people who do not give respect to the people who actually bother about them. And it's not only that I have this severe sense of disgust of these parasites' existence in my life, but on earth, period. I do not despise people who lack morals, but I despise people who smear their faces with regret for the very sake of manipulation and agenda. It makes me angry, and vile, and so irritated that people, the very breathing souls who have apparent intellectual capacity give in and succumb to these fuckers who's got nothing better to do than cry out loud for attention, and tell people to fuck off when they get too close. Well, maybe it's an act of self-defense that they purge all those that risk reading their minds and stir their guts but to me, it's just an act of wimp, stupidity, and fucking irresponsibility. If you don't want to be responsible for your actions, be at least responsible for your existence. If not, you're better off dead.

Sometimes I wonder, why do I waste my time? But sometimes, proximity is not a luxury of choice.

By the way, Ernst and Young called. Naw, so sad.

Shu Uemura, rest in peace.

MERRY XXXMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR

More to come soon.

DECEMBER

The damage: 5 pairs of shoes (I think, if not 7...) 1 dress, 2 shades, 11 tops, 2 tights. 1 pair of red skinnies, 2 cardigans, 2 jackets. I shall not involve myself in any monetary calculations. Ohm.

Kill me.

SEASONS GREETINGS!

Hectic.

My new job's pace is crazy. It's definitely a good learning experience, but I think I'm lagging behind very severely. I have been commented to be laid back. Well, I don't know. Maybe the English organisation is just more relaxed than the American one.

Well, nevermind. I ought to swallow the hard pill and starting learning the facts of working life. But it's great, you know, having loads to do beats having nothing to do. My previous job didn't teach me enough, well, that was a pure Marketing job. Now it's Marcomm. Which means so much more liaising work to do, on top of all the external outward looking tasks.

I guess I am perceived as slow there because I've got hecks of filing to do, for starters, because they want to get organised. On top of that, I have other things to handle as well. I have a great facilitator, but I don't want to fall behind others' expectations.

I just want to enjoy my weekends. But I'm always thrown with the heavy responsibility of cleaning up the house, which is painful because my house is bigger than normal Sengkang flats and when it's other people's possessions that are strewn on the floor, you feel this severe lack of equity and feel like killing someone.

My house is big (not big like bungalow big la for Christ's sake). And my Mom's nickname is WHO (World Health Organisation, bestowed on her when it was the SARS period). I have a back that's about to snap anytime and lugging pails of water is a pain in the ass back.

I just want to pull my socks up and be a super worker, and prove to myself that I'm competent and a worthy asset to any darnedass organisation.

I'm competitive that way.

Okay, so much of sad sad stuff huh.

In a dire attempt to revive our dwindling lives, Sugar and I took a train and bus to Pasir Panjang Food Centre to have satay, la la, stingray and chicken wings, topped off with my favourite sugarcane juice.

I really loved the meal. At less than $16 per pax, we were eating like Kings! Which made us fatter but, heck. HECK!

I just hope I do better at work to save myself from craving for sinful stuff.

ARGHHH.

Lost Opportunities.

With calls coming in, I wonder if I made the right choice to have chosen this potentially short stint instead of other prospective openings. But, well. I should be content with my choice. This is a good place, for me to learn, and grow as a marketer. I just hope I don't underperform and that they will never run out of things for me to do, so as to justify my headcount.

Once bitten twice shy.

Don't rain on my parade.

Don't tell me not to live, just sit and putter
Life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter
Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade
Don't tell me not to fly, I simply got to
If someone takes a spill, it's me and not you
Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade
I'll march my band out, I'll beat my drum
And if I'm fanned out, your turn at bat, sir
At least I didn't fake it, hat, sir
I guess I didn't make it
But whether I'm the rose of sheer perfection
A freckle on the nose of life's complexion
The Cinderella or the shine apple of its eye
I gotta fly once, I gotta try once,
Only can die once, right, sir?
Ooh, life is juicy, juicy and you see,
I gotta have my bite, sir.
Get ready for me love, 'cause I'm a "comer"
I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer
Don't bring around the cloud to rain on my parade,

I'm gonna live and live NOW!
Get what I want, I know how!
One roll for the whole shebang!
One throw that bell will go clang,
Eye on the target and wham,
One shot, one gun shot and bam!
Hey, Mr. Arnstein, here I am ...

I'll march my band out, I will beat my drum,
And if I'm fanned out, your turn at bat, sir,
At least I didn't fake it, hat, sir,
I guess I didn't make it
Get ready for me love, 'cause I'm a "comer"
I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer
Nobody, no, nobody, is gonna rain on my parade!

The difference between acquaintances and friends is not proximity, but trust.

Moving on.

My first day will be on Monday. Wish me luck!

A few things for the day.

Well, I'm having the mother of headaches, possibly due to this erratic weather (it's raining now over at my place) and this topsy turvy cycle I'm putting my body clock through. I have a few nice things, and a few bad things, to talk about.

My kid scored only 203 for his PSLE, much to my despondence. It's the second time a tuition kid of mine underperformed. And this time, it was horrific. Well, he was glad that he got into Express stream but I was aiming for like, a 240+ for this chap? I was just dumbfounded. I didn't know what to say, and a could hardly struggle a goodbye before I hung up the phonecall. It was traumatic. I think it's all my fault. I've seen kids doing wonders with their tuition teachers. He was fine, you know. What happened. It's this major setback that I will never forget. And I shall never, ever, try to teach again to save more kids from doing badly due to my lack of skills and all that inadequacy. I suck.

Next. I was supposed to skip dinner today but resided with the darker forces and had cup noodles and 3 pineapple tarts. I was starting to feel very sick when I cut myself short of any food except for 3 crackers and an over-diluted cup of milo in the afternoon. I figured, I should do it gradually instead of going all cold turkey.

Next. News from some good amount of people. The fountain of hope springs eternal. I hope all this will help me move on, move ahead. I was this close to seeking therapy, thinking no one would get back to me at all.

Next. Driving. It was so fun. So bloody fun. Mr Daniel Seah, my instructor for today was so nice and very clear with his instructions. I had to shock this girl with a silly question. I went up to this stranger and asked her what do I do after checking the vehicle number for the day's lesson. I later went to traumatise another instructor, who very helpfully helped me identify not only the location of the car, but also the driver. Sweet.

So I'm on my way to driving learning, on my way to moving on, on my way to get back to my old weight and still trying to get over my kid's grades. I saw that the highest scorer managed a 294, which means this year's exams weren't that daunting, right? It's all my fucking fault.

Sometimes I think I do more harm to this world than good.

Bored.

No news, no nothing. Just boredom, stagnation. This silence is deafening. I've been bingeing so much, I've put on SOOOOO much weight. Gotta skip dinner like. From today. Done-ed. I shall. SHALL lose weight. The least I could do for pathetic little me now. Boo.

A little personification.

I realised how different I sound in my blog entries, from my real self. It's pretty frightening sometimes.

Good thing is, I've lost my capacity to sound emo, to save myself to be called juvenile at the age of twenty-two. Now I just sound ditsy. Yeay. And sometimes nobody believes I'm sad.

I was so angsty! Ooo, so angsty! Now I just resign to fate so much, I'm like the custard in your cream puffs. Random gooey, lifeless, icky dessert filling I hate.

Why am I starting to sound so immature in my blog. Omg. I should blog politics soon!

It's true that pain makes you stronger and more mature. When I used to have tumultuous relationships, I could whisk prose and poetry out of full cream. Now, I'm so dandy and content, I feel like jelly. Mild. Tasteless. Blah.

Maybe all will be well when I can stop denying myself and get on with my life.

Tonsils.

I have an ulcer on each of my two tonsils. And one on the right side of my tongue which always rubs against my right molars. And I have scary looking, ulcer looking stuff at the back of my throat. What have I gotten myself into!

Long weekend with Sugar. Wanted to have Chocolate Fondue since last weekend but all plans are foiled by my holy ulceredness. Shit.

You know, I've gotten past the stage of sore throats. I don't get red and swollen throat area. I simply get REAL LIFE FUCKING ULCERS AT my throat area. Now you know why I have no fear at all for piercings? The next most painful thing prolly is LABOUR.

My hair got screwed up by a bad haircut. Blew loads of money on Loreal's private sale on Shu Uemura products. And because of that, I had to go buy a compact powder case.

My throat hurts mighty. But at least I was wearing my new green patterned tube dress today. Yipee.

Goodnight. Hope you all get ulcers in your throats too. Cheers!

Stuff I wore.

Today.


For Sugar and I's 2nd Year.

My life is in a mess.

I missed my driving lesson today. Because I simply. FORGOT.

I so FUCKING HATE MYSELF.

No more Phuket.

I'll be planning a trip out here soon, since the Phuket thing is cancelled.

I want a trippppppppppppp! I didn't even have a graduation roadtrip.

So bored.

Change of plans. Not meeting Jialin for dinner today anymore. Instead, I'll be meeting Mom. Whenever I meet Mommas, I think of comfort food. So, we're gonna have fast food.

I have no idea what is the correlation between Mom and Junk Food but both make me feel secure about everything in the world. And both make me feel fat. Because my Mom reminds me of how fat I am all the time. Aiya.

I watched a snippet of some slimming tv show and I realised how freaking unethical and demoralising the shows are. There was this lady, 66kg. The "professionals" recommended her to shed 20kg or something. Like, what the fuck? Her aim was just 6kg to fit into this cheongsam she bought eons ago and they're gonna starve her into a pancake??? (Without the carbo)

In fact, slimming centres can be a whole load of bull. This acquaintance I have who worked for a slimming centre pre-maternity dopes on slimming teas and weight loss massage oils for the fear of fat. I just thought that kinda. Ironic.

But truth is, I am too heavy for health. I'll try to do something about it. I mean, as long as I feel functional in my body, I think I'm fine. Before my knees go bust. Haha!

I realised I am very comfortable in my body now. I guess it's because I'm growing older and just can't care less about how people view me physically. Maybe it's because I've collected a good amount of good friends who look beyond these things, and have a boyfriend who loves to grope my belly for some strange, inexplicable reason I shall not contemplate further. I mean. He thinks I could lose weight like he could as well. But we're not gonna deprive ourselves from indulging in food because, that's the thing we enjoy doing. Trying out new places, playing critique. We're a bit like Seeto a la Makansutra. He rocks. Totally.

I just need to lose the weight I've gained over these years with my hearty dinners. I used to skip dinner in secondary school and it worked perfectly for me. I just have to condition my body to stop eating gradually. And working helps. Ya know. Argh. Let's not go there.

I think I've established myself as this crazy woman that nobody really judges my appearance anymore. I tell you, having a big heart helps. It's when people find no clue on how to evaluate you that they zoom in on your physique. It's true. When people know you well enough, you'll become, the really crazy girl, or the one who always laughs like a hyena, or the damn dirty minded lesbian heterosexual sex maniac instead of being THAT FAT CHICK. I realised, banking on the personality card helps in establishing yourself away from physical stereotypes.

It's not that I'm proud that I'm fat. I look at the size 6-8 dresses and I can't help but sigh to myself sometimes. It's okay, however, to be a 12-14. For myself, at least. Because. I'm still getting clothed! And that's why I can never shop for clothes at fareast. Instead I penetrate the heartland and raid UK shops, BAHAHAHAHA.

Okay I'm going mad. I like the way I am, although my face looks a little pudgy and pasty these few days, possibly due to dehydration. But I'm confident with how I look. Not that I'm confident in it being able to attract anyone, but at least I know I don't look hideous in my clothes with lumps of fats spilling out because I find clothes that fit me. And I realised office wear is really good for covering those lumps and flabs. I love my pencil skirts.

For the people who want me to lose weight, I only have one thing to say.

That is, PAY ME. And I might just agree.

Spicy!

If you guys haven't known me since I had cropped short hair, wearing snoopy spectacles and looked like a tart (a badly baked one), I LOVE SPICE GIRLS!

I used to have their posters pasted all over my wardrobe door.

This is soooo cute.

The 2nd Anniversary.

For our 2nd Anniversary of being a couple, Sugar planned and brought me to this really nice place at Shangri La.





Yes NADA MAN. The name kinda cracked me up. But the entrance looks promising already, don't you think?

But before that, Sugar and I engaged in some Pre-Celebration camwhoring, which is pretty much ceremonial prior to every little dinner we head to.









My fringe was messed up by this hairdresser. Why do they always wanna Layer Layer Layer!?

Aftermath!









Surprisingly, we still managed to smile and snap in between our happy belly burps while trying to inhale gently so as not to pop our waistbands.

Where's the food? There it is. And they prolly look better than our faces. LOL.



The set lunch was fantastic. I knew I could always depend on Sugar to bring me to the most magical of places that serve the best food in town.

I so loved what he planned for me. Well, at least he made my tolerating all this nonsense for two years worthwhile. Love you lotsa lotsa la. Don't say I never say.

Really. Happy 2 Years!

edit: I realised how forced I sound in the blog entry. It would have been perfect, clocking a second year with my boy and going on a trip. It's just. Dang. Never hope for too much, or dream of too much. Which pretty much makes this two year thing more important to me because, I am so dependent on Sugar now emotionally, that I'm clinging onto him like a life buoy. Times like these, I need him. I need him being there, and he has. Making sure I do what I need to without shoving me hard in any way to budge. Although this 2nd year anniversary has been overshadowed by all this negativity. I just want to thank you, Babe, for having been there. Having held onto me to save me from crumbling. Hugging me when I'm crying and never asking me why or what happened because you always know, somehow. Thank you. For being you, in my life.

Sweet and Sour Pork.

Okay. I know you like sweet and sour pork too. And garlic prawn pasta! Oh ya!

I should make that for you soon.

I swear your other girlfriend is from China and is sucking away your English energy. Eck!

Wanderlust/Runaway.

People have told me repeatedly that I need a trip out of town. Believe it or not, I've not been out of town for a good 8 years. Which really, is crazy for someone residing in this claustrophobic island which manages a 650kmsquared.

I'm going to Phuket next weekend, much to the dismay of Sugar since he'll be having a lonesome weekend (I'm sure he's gonna make the full use out of it to PHILANDER!) while I'm enjoying myself, sides all the dodging of the sun and crap, overseas.

The main issue about traveling abroad for me, is getting my hands on these little bottles that I can put shampoo and conditioner and stuff in. I managed to dig out a good couple, from my past overnight party stays. Great. I just have to fill them up with some new shampoo.

Besides that, the thing that bugs me is apparel. For a person that spends an average of 15-20 minutes deciding on what to wear everytime I have to head out, it's skull-cracking. Sanity tells me that I need loads of tank tops, shorts and tees for sleep, and leggings because my legs rash up nastily in heat.

The crazy side of me is gonna pull that long sleeved sweater into the bag because, I am so afraid of the sun. Argh. God Bless.

The idea of basking in the sun is so. Daunting. I am so afraid of getting dark. But then, I'll recover after some time. Argh. But but but. It takes time. And I'll look like a suckling pig before that.

Fats + Tan = Suckling Pig. Geddit?

Now you know why I'd die than to get myself Chao Tah???

Nevermind. The tan will be worth it since it's 8 years in the waiting, anyway.

I'm so consoling myself.

I'm excited, nonetheless. Land of Smiles, here I come! (Hello there, Dunkin Donuts.)

I know.

I know you like Bak Chor Mee.
I know you like Siew Mai.
I know you like Banana and Pandan flavoured cakes.
I know you like Erdinger.
I know you like blue, black, red and white.
I know you like briefs more than boxers.
I know you like the instant noodles that I cook.
I know you like Honeydew.
I know you like Mint icecream and bubbletea.
I know you like Hawaiian pizzas.
I know you like peanut butter and butter waffles.
I know you like Sun Kueh without black sauce.
I know you like taiwanese sausage from pasar malams.
I know you like rabbits.
I know you hate my idiosyncrasies.

I know you love me.

These Two Years.

As we're counting down to the Big 2 this midnight, I realised I hadn't prepared any little gift for the boy. I didn't make any cards or sew any whatevers. I thought he wouldn't do anything, but he did. He wrote on a card. Whilst trying to decipher that handwriting, and later decoding the mis-spelt jumble of dyslexia blasphemy, my brain registered a sick sense of guilt. He remembered. He made an effort. I didn't.

He wanted to get me roses but I told him otherwise. Because I'd rather he spent it on our meal instead, since I'm in a rut of a dire situation now. So he agreed. I didn't expect a card.

I'd always wanted my boy to give me written notes. I never had someone who'd do that willingly for me before. And Sugar, despite it being out of character. I really appreciate it. I do. And I'm touched.

I'm such a crybaby.

I love you.

The Weekend Ahead.

The weekend ahead has many things installed. Daddy's Birthday Dinner will be at Dragon Phoenix Restaurant tomorrow, at Novotel Hotel. Don't we so love oldschool chinese restaurants? All that Crystal Jade is warping the idea of good ol' chinese food. Commercialisation kills.

Sunday will be Sugar and I's 2nd Year Anniversary. Very much to our surprise, we have not successfully murdered each other yet. We are in a very blissful state of couplehood. We know we'll get married in the future, we'll get registered, get a flat, plan our lives together in a very saccharine but comforting way. It's like hot chocolate with an overdose of cocoa powder. Who's to complain?

2 years. And we've managed to iron out all the possible kinks we have or could have in our relationship. The first year mark came with alot of recognition as a milestone since we officially yet intangibly manage to heal our wounds and move on from terrible situations. This year, the pain is hardly vivid. Although we have settled down for a peaceful, read otherwise as no-life lifestyle, it's great to have someone you could waste weekends away with, be it traveling across the entire width of the island or snoozing to the depths of lalaland. It's really been proven that we pretty much just want to be with each other, no matter what we do. It just seems more interesting, or less painful.

I'm leeching so much on this simple life, the rowdiness and havoc of clubs, crowds and everything else pretty much deafens me. Maybe I'm ageing. Or maybe I'm too comfortable in this relationship to want anything extreme or radical. I just want to be, with him.

It wasn't easy reaching this stage. We were, for a certain period of time, estranged, yet passionately involved with one another. It was very intense. And crazy. Emotions just thronged in and out of our systems as and when. I thought I would die, on overhaul. I survived. We survived.

Honesty is the best policy. Sucks like stale honey but, really. It's when you're the most truthful that you are the most guiltless and peaceful. All that paranoia on impression formation and what not just disappears. He found things out the hard way. But thinking back, I would have done the same. He often asked me why. I just told him. Because he was too hard to lose.

So, Happy 2 Years, Gary Ng Wee Teck. You can do the stupidest things, but I should have guessed when you decided to be with me anyway.

But can you please, put the nerves back to your numbskull?!! You have no idea how much I want to sink my teeth into your head.

Okay. This was meant to be romantic.

Blob.

I like this very much. Besides the fact that it epitomises my state of helplessness and hopelessness, I've finally managed to be effortlessly minimalist. And that, I mean 5 minutes of design, and another 5 minutes of html cheating.

I like myself, alot. But not everyone shares my point of view.

When can I stop pretending?