Tuesday, April 15, 2003

Screwed
This will be one damn naggy/boring n3, so if u tink u cant take it, close this page right the hell now and screw off.

i stayed up the whole nite again, tinking about stuff. fuck.was feelin damn pissed with myself last nite. was pretty fine at first, still could joke arnd with dith n may on irc. den saw joanne on icq. chatted a while with her, den of all things, she had to ask about my deferment. i wun say she spoilt my mood, had a long talk with her, (with the usual nagging). she's my "ma" after all.. but i started feeling damned screwed up.. we did some catching up, asked me about stuff and all. yeah, abt "HER" too.. she asked me who went to "her" party n all tt, so i told her, (for those who's kinda blur now, refer to n3 from 22/3). sucky, made me rem all tt stuff im trying damn fucking hard to forget. (its my blog, i choose to be vulgar, so sue me). i felt so damn screwed i was asking joanne, wad if i died. who would mourn for me, as in my frens, who would reali mourn for me. at present, im only certain of two, one's alvin, the other's joanne.sian.. food for thought... argh.. she got abit shocked i tink, told me not to tink of these stuff, death and all, coz she wun be able to rush over n save me if i tried anything silly n dumb. it was past 1 am lah tt's y. death? juz smth we all wud have to go thru, its only a matter of sooner or later. so be it if its sooner rather den later, who would care anyway. n i dun tink i would mind much abt dying now, since my life's sucking like there's no tomorrow right now. yeah im feeling selfish, sue me. if i had the cash to spare now, i might hire a hitman to gun me down on the streets of orchard road in broad daylight, at least i would die a spectacular death. yeah, i'd like dat. sheesh... juz cleared up my room. stupid father's been nagging me to tidy it up.. as if i dunno tt my room's in a mess. yeah, i said it. its MY room! so FUCKING SHUT THE HELL UP AND STOP TELLING ME ABOUT MY ROOM YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! ITS MY ROOM! NOT YOURS! ASSHOLE! screw him who i have to call "dad". so what if my room's tidier, the atmosphere's still the same. its not a home at all, juz a dumb house dat i come back everynite to sleep in. as if i like coming back. fucking lazy ass, only open mouth for two things, one's to nag/scold/complain. the other's to order me to go buy food for him. fucking ass. CAN'T U BUY FOR URSELF! IM NOT THE ONE EATING, AND UR THE ONE WITH THE FUCKING DRIVING LICENCE AND A CAR DAMMIT! THE COFFEESHOP'S JUZ DOWNSTAIRS IF U DIN NOE ASSHOLE! damn u. if i had the choice i would fucking leave now, to hell with ur custody order. im juz waiting for the day when im 21, im gonna juz walk out, n dun fucking expect me to take care of u when ur old n half-dead in a wheelchair. i'll gladly kick the wheelchair down a hill for u asshole. damn u. fuck. i'll stop here now. i'll juz end up screaming profanities at the fool who i call "dad" if i carry on. grr.. fucking ass.