Darling Contagion
must be a devil between us
or whores in my head
whores at the door
whore in my bed
but hey
where have you been
if you go i will surely die
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Saturday, April 22, 2006
So this is my last night and I must say I've been busy these past few days tying up the loose ends.
In some cases, it was a rather rushed job, but I did it all the same and hopefully I've done a good job.
My vicious killer dog is in the hospital now and when I broke the news to my close friends they all burst out laughing. Like, not funny la. Ok, yes,I do admit he has sent all of you to the ER on a few occasions,but still! You should see him now, it is so terribly pitiful that even an animal-hater like me is moved to tears. Figuratively, not literally, let's not push it now.
Was a cinekid for abit with Jint today, and totally killed her in the arcade; streetfighter etc.bring it on. Everything was going dandy till this young little punk walked past me wearing LTJ Bukem's 'Unlucky for Some' Tee. I. am. So. Frickin. Pissed. He absolutely had to rub it in by walking by me twice.
Anyway, been smoking out loads, or more than usual. Been to a couple of great gigs, had several good laughs. The alcky has been sweet, the company electric, although I haven't watched enough movies... But enough gotta run.
_____________________________________________________________________________
24 hours later and here I am.
I hadn't realised how dusty the coach has always been till today. I was coughing for 2 hours straight, a record.
I haul my two bags up the flight of stairs, careful to balance my body weight and that of my bag on the precarious steps. I achieve perfect equilibrium. One false move and I will be sent tumbling backwards, my bag will act as some lead weight and drag me to my doom (death).
I survive.
As I always do.
Burst through the door and am greeted by the comforting silence of a lonely room. The papers, dvds, magazines, sheets, all sit as they had done 4 weeks back. I throw my bags to the floor and feel a 'Honey I'm Hooome!' rising in my chest... but it was just a cough. False alarm. Following the ritualistic habit of turning the lights on, I flick the fairy lights on my wall on.Looking pretty. Then comes the lamp by my magazines. The yellow light acts as a spotlight, highlighting the spines of every magazine collected over these past months. Each spine bears the forlorn white creases of magazines read over and over again. Bent and folded, tired and worn, man-handled and abused; they're still good. Like their owner? We'll see.
It is still quiet.
It is still only me here.
Dinner?
I stare at my kettle. I'm sure I can rustle up something (i'll stay away from trying to fry and egg in it this time). I hear footsteps and noises echo through the corridoor and cringe. My body is in a state of confusion. Am I tired or am I hungry? I can't decide, the yellow light seems a pale substitute for the sun back home. I miss it already. You still run through my mind. Thank you.
'You have to learn to fall before you learn to fly.'
Promises. Promises.
In some cases, it was a rather rushed job, but I did it all the same and hopefully I've done a good job.
My vicious killer dog is in the hospital now and when I broke the news to my close friends they all burst out laughing. Like, not funny la. Ok, yes,I do admit he has sent all of you to the ER on a few occasions,but still! You should see him now, it is so terribly pitiful that even an animal-hater like me is moved to tears. Figuratively, not literally, let's not push it now.
Was a cinekid for abit with Jint today, and totally killed her in the arcade; streetfighter etc.bring it on. Everything was going dandy till this young little punk walked past me wearing LTJ Bukem's 'Unlucky for Some' Tee. I. am. So. Frickin. Pissed. He absolutely had to rub it in by walking by me twice.
Anyway, been smoking out loads, or more than usual. Been to a couple of great gigs, had several good laughs. The alcky has been sweet, the company electric, although I haven't watched enough movies... But enough gotta run.
_____________________________________________________________________________
24 hours later and here I am.
I hadn't realised how dusty the coach has always been till today. I was coughing for 2 hours straight, a record.
I haul my two bags up the flight of stairs, careful to balance my body weight and that of my bag on the precarious steps. I achieve perfect equilibrium. One false move and I will be sent tumbling backwards, my bag will act as some lead weight and drag me to my doom (death).
I survive.
As I always do.
Burst through the door and am greeted by the comforting silence of a lonely room. The papers, dvds, magazines, sheets, all sit as they had done 4 weeks back. I throw my bags to the floor and feel a 'Honey I'm Hooome!' rising in my chest... but it was just a cough. False alarm. Following the ritualistic habit of turning the lights on, I flick the fairy lights on my wall on.Looking pretty. Then comes the lamp by my magazines. The yellow light acts as a spotlight, highlighting the spines of every magazine collected over these past months. Each spine bears the forlorn white creases of magazines read over and over again. Bent and folded, tired and worn, man-handled and abused; they're still good. Like their owner? We'll see.
It is still quiet.
It is still only me here.
Dinner?
I stare at my kettle. I'm sure I can rustle up something (i'll stay away from trying to fry and egg in it this time). I hear footsteps and noises echo through the corridoor and cringe. My body is in a state of confusion. Am I tired or am I hungry? I can't decide, the yellow light seems a pale substitute for the sun back home. I miss it already. You still run through my mind. Thank you.
'You have to learn to fall before you learn to fly.'
Promises. Promises.
She Is Electric X 11:54:00 AM