I want blood.

Clara is away in Batam right now, but after she 

told me about a certain bunch of people in 

her school a couple of weeks ago, 

I've taken it upon myself to read one of their blogs 

when I'm bored [such as now].

And I swear, just reading the shit that this girl types 

makes me so fucking angry, angry enough to want to call Kev up 

and ask to borrow his brass knuckles and 

BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HER.

Except that, as a certain member of law enforcement has informed me, 

they are illegal, and anyway, such actions probably 

would land me in a whole lot of unnecessary trouble.

But fuck, they can't get away with this.

I can't stand it.

Clara is turning 18, and she's going to graduate 

from that place without a backwards glance.

You'll graduate too, if you're lucky, and then go on to 

marry a deadbeat husband, have 2.4 children and 

wonder why you're so unhappy.

Clara will have many moments in which she is infinite, 

and be gloriously, wonderfully happy.

Love you Clara.

And I'm losing you.

I think I overestimated the number of weeks

[or in this case, days]

that I could wait.

Haha, patient my ass.

I'm feeling so ridiculously restless.

Tiny Tractor?

I'm listening to Backwards and Fight.

I'll tell you everything.

Stay gold, ponyboy. Stay gold.

As long as you're happy.

We'll speak of what a waste I am.

I'm so restless, and feeling so helpless.

My fingers are twitching and I need someone 

to speak to before I scream.

Today was the epitome of NOT GOOD NOT GOOD.

I don't know what to do with myself.

I hope to the FSM that you guys are okay.

Fingers crossed.

Shut up, look up and kiss me.

Backs to the warm tiled floor,

watching the lights and singing ourselves

into the next hour, and the next.

Assignments that are due

the next morning call us home

and we pry our reluctant selves

off the ground.

I do a floor dance to old skool Britney

and we may just very well have to

form a band, because we already

have good band shots

and possibly a name.

[I kid, I kid.]

*

I break my heart around this.

I am so ready.

Are you?

I ride with souls who find no peace, still I look to you to find release.

Could you believe it

Those sapphire eyes

The brilliant girl with the famous thighs

Then the camera clicks and then we are stars

Laughing in the back of chauffeured cars

Phone call rings and your voice is desire

Then winter moves into summer fires

I promised you what's ours is ours

*

I love them.

They can't drink haha.

Tessa's 17.

In the dodgy Hotel 81 that we trashed with our

"exuberant wild sex".

Crazy leg movements on the bed by Danny.

Tripping our way to Macs in the morning

and trudging home to sleep the day away.

Lovelove Tess, Van, Swing, RuiYi, Danny, Bryan.

*

I can't lie.

I still believe and I'll wait.

You're so messed up.

But I can deal.

I've dealt for this long.

Oh baby, refrain from breaking my heart.

Tuesday with The Girls.

We're too gangsta for our own good.

I was a Public Nuisance and banged tables

and shouted Loud Loud.

My friends cowered in fear, I was crazy.

[I lie. They were laughing their asses off at me.]

I can't wait for weekend stay over, it's Tessa's 17th!

*

What now?

Make a map of what you see, direct pain effectively.

I'm listening to the whole of The Con, heartbreak and 

heartache and awkwardness over and over.

I ran at the beach today, ending off at exactly 30 minutes.

If I can keep this up, three times a week, 

I'll feel more like myself.

"I am tired and hungry and totally useless".

I am very Eager Beaver for Something to happen.

Nights locked away in my room, with 11 drawing close 

but having nothing to look forward to except sleep, 

however, get me all maudlin.

I scold myself out of feeling too sorry for myself.

I count off my blemishes on my fingers and have 

to use both hands. Feet.

 Two sets, three.

I do my little routine, my little dance of sorts

with the chargers, the curtains, the bathroom mirror,

the bed sheets.

Everything feels strange in the dark.

I roll over and wait for morning.

Maybe I would have been something you'd be good at.

House pounding in my ears and I was just wanting out, 

and wondering what you were up to.

Stressing just the teensiest bit about ze 

Contemporary Issues Presentation/Campus Show on monday 

but not enough to get my ass to serious work.

I can see myself losing it completely.

I can see this sucking majorly.

I'm so shocked that I returned 3 books to the library, 

with only one book read halfway, and that was with 

an extension on the return date, which I went over anyway.

What has become of me!

I don't like boys that want you, then don't want you, 

but you can be sure of one thing, and that is that 

they want to get in your pants.

I don't like boys that really like you, 

then get all bitter 

and act all long-suffering and tortured 

when you don't reciprocate. 

I don't like being unsure of how to proceed.

Danger signs are lighting up every which way, 

each blinking frantically.

I sit and watch the chaos unfold.

I'll talk about this again soon maybe.

So you fake and you flaw.

I don't know what you think of me and that scares me.

I'm feeling so impatient.

I'm feeling so vulnerable.

Love, pull your sore ribs in.

"fucking hes not worth it"

The truth, as I have know, as I have avoided, as plain as day.

I will remember that I'm just another in a long line,

and you are a Manipulative Dick.

And I deserve better.

I am not bitter, not angry, not depressed, not anything

to do with you, not anymore.

If you speak to me, I'll listen.

If you say something funny, I'll laugh.

If stuff is shitty, I'll sympathize.

For we can still be friends, but I will never, ever

believe in you again.

You treated me awfully and I allowed it.

But this is it.

*

Is The Question safe for Nathaniel to read?

It's now tucked away in its little PastaMania capsule,

and I still think that it sounds so ridiculous.

We'll see.

And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us.

Picked up by Bryant in The Van, dressed up for only

Parkway, Kallang Leisure Park,

Victoria Junior College and the streets of Geylang.

Bry and I got matching tattoos, we're so

unbelievably hardcore, it's crazy.

Called Va and NSN, picked them up from school

and "gave them a social life"

because we love them.

Got a pretty pink rose [Bry got the bigger one cause

he is be "Big Kok"] in return 

and their lovely company.

I miss days and nights with The Kids.

Let's do it all again sometime soon, please.

King of Wishful Thinking.

Two Long Island Iced Teas and Two Mai Tais.

Strawberry Shisha.

Music that's not really music, but something so loud and repetitive,

it gets imprinted on your brain.

Everything was bright and fuzzy and I couldn't focus on any one thing, 

I couldn't see shit.

I just wanted to sit on the ground till it righted itself.

I hate nights when I hate myself.

*

And then afternoons "doing work" with the lovely

Cel Yeo, in her green room (:

*

And I love nights like these.

When you can just sit around

and not give a fuck,

with people you like,

and you all know that you're young

and alive,

and that things may suck

but you'll live.

More photos when I get them.