Sometimes I instruct myself harshly to stop coming online so fervently and aimlessly. Perhaps restrict my online activities (doesn't include porn, you dirty bastards). Like now. Like now being fucking upset with the news I get. Like now being fucking upset with the news I get that is all the fucking time because everything is announced and travels ( Read more... )

 Call me, you bitch. I punish myself each day you fade further away.

Courtesy of Musa's camera. Film rolls in later posts.

There's no place like a temporary abode nestled away from Singapore. We barely chilled much in the guesthouse, preferring to leave that to the whites armed with their various copies of Lonely Planet or Intrepid Traveller sort of guidebooks and lie at the pool reading them all afternoon. Like this ( Read more... )

The city of love and cheap rokok. Where Martina found a boyfriend, and I nearly found one at.... a tomb.


( Read more... )

( Read more... )

You know those Lance Armstrong you can do it!, Chicken Soup for the Disillusioned Betrayed Soul, Innumerable Steps to Success, The Purpose Driven Life, Tuesdays with Morrie kind of inspiring shit? Yeah well, those I either need to fucking read and actually be swallowed by that sea of Chicken Soup, or E-S-C-A-P-E. Not into some kind of temporary ( Read more... )

Right now I wish I was in love with a beautiful beatnik girl, lying in a hammock next to her on a nearby island - near enough to feel the call of relationships near, far-flung enough to have postcards with haphazard stamps make their indelible mark on one's mood by the faithful distance they travel. Two days ago, I would have (and did) shout for a ( Read more... )

I JUST WANT TO FUCKING GET OUT. Everyday here is crushing my soul slowly like mint leaves in a cooking class. For how long have I been angry?

Sleepy, angry, hateful. My ideal weekend contains idiots being wiped off the face of this earth, and lying in bed doing nothing for hours. Do not disturb.

So everything's back to being private and cryptic again, so here goes my diatribe:

WHAT THE FUCK, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

There's so much more contained in just that statement of incredulity, anger, and utter disbelief. Although I know there's no point raging and wanting to slice someone's liver with a letter-opener, but still. ( Read more... )