It's late. I can't sleep.
Distracted by Ironman on telly.
So many things i wanna do to Mr R. Downey Jr. None of it publishable.
Staring at the 6's Value Pack of Rainbow cardamon-flavoured evaporated milk.
The plan is to bring it back home to whip up a, i quote -'fucking power'- unquote batch of marsala tea. And if all goes well, if sheer willpower pulls me out of bed in approx 8 hrs time, if i manage to maneuver successfully around the city centre and find my way to Krispie Kremes, if all goes well, we'll have an awesome combination of marsala tea and donuts on friday evening.
Whee!
Everyone's invited!



why can't i pack all of you into my check-in bag each time i leave?

There's only so many times you can visit the blue mosque(Sultan Ahmed Mosque) and go 'phwoah.' Weather was perfect so Marc and i headed down to the poolside instead. Hello bronze summer goodbye pasty winter.
i swear it felt like we walked a distance equivalent to the stretch of the ECP, but boy the rewards we reaped was nothing short of amazing. A birds eye view of Istanbul. Breath-taking. So much so i refused to snap a shot of it with phony pieces of technology that wouldn't/couldn't quite catch every ounce of awesomeness. If i'd gather enough balls one day, i'd hang glide from that exact spot. Operative word: 'one day'.
Today, my lack of balls(non-literal) was displayed, quite openly actually. Go on laugh. I do alot of talking but when it comes down to it i'm the first one to shrink away.
There are times you'd stumble upon a social scene where a red-faced girl, trying miserably to scamper away, to free herself of her friends vice-like grip, is violently thrown into some dewd's path, like completely in his face. Like, "Here! Have her she's all yours.". And she stands there deliberating whether to hike her skirt up and start running the other direction or to salvage the situation by making small talk, only she'll stammer incoherently for the next 5 minutes.
I'm that girl.
Bertram. That cute tennis guy. Rachel's cousin back in primary 5. Jamal(Thank you again halim).
Dear Guy Up There, when will i grow some balls ?
Today i relived yet another one of those traumatic experience. I won't go into details but Mr 17K will probably remember me for a long time to come. For all the wrong reasons. gah.
Thank you Marc. Thank you Vanessa. May your lives be filled with laughter, at my expense.

we jumped

Vesak Day 2008. Nostalgia. We headed down to the open field adjacent to my place.
Daddy + 3 of us doofuses. Shared 2 bikes between us.
Had a 'throw-pieces-of-rubble-at-stacked-drink-cans' competition.
Dared each other to ride without holding the handlebars.("Look Ma! No hands!!")
Raced. Cartwheeled. Laughed with abandon.
Got all sticky and sweaty.
Tried to climb the tree, got nowhere near the shortest branch.
Goofed off.
Mouthed off at the neighbourhood perv.
Good fun in all.
Liberation.

maybe i'll catch fire

That didn't require a reply.
Poetic hum drum.
She understood.
No one does.
No one says it right.
No one fills that pause with nothing.
No one fills that space.
Nothingness per se.
Tonight i wouldn't want it any other way.
Tomorrow you'd want more.
Dread fills this void.