in the whites of his eyes, there's a supersonic vibe

sometimes i just wanna go on and on and on and talk non-stop and reveal all, from my insecurities to my hopes, feeble as they are, to my deepest not-so-darkest secrets.

and have someone analyse it and tell me what i already know.

the reason i very much want a shrink is because i think it'll be exciting to have someone listen to you and analyse you and compare you to scientific case studies just so they can attempt to identify whatever mental ailment you may have.

i, on the other hand, am one-of-a-kind.

i suffer from the virus, CAF88. it inflicts only people with the same palm imprint as mine, who suffers from severe myopia and who has a high ADORATION of any written works from Orson Scott Card.

symptoms? insanity. mood swings. stinky feet. short bursts of endorphins when inhaling greasy fumes of tahu telur. tendency to pick fights for the sake of raising her voice.

and i don't care if this next sentence is going to sound immature or whiny or angsty or whatfuckhaveyou.

I HATE THE COPYWRITER AT WORK. and not even a strong dislike, mind you. i loathe, no, no ABHOR the waste of protoplasm, as talented as she is. and i can only give half a fuck if i'm caught proclaiming my strong loathing for a fellow colleague.

shoot me, sue me, ban me, whatever. better yet, defame me!

i feel like having thai food all of a sudden siah.

deus ex machina part deux

i made someone's day apparently.

and it made mine, knowing that i did.

so He finally sent me a machine-hero. only, he's not god so i can't rightfully say he's deus ex machina.

but, there's my plot twist.

kinda made up with phil after a week's worth of silent treatment. he's such a dear. i switched my laptop on and poof! there was a message on my desktop, telling me he fixed my laptop AND burnt some back up copies of my work in a cd.

cat loves philip to bits and pieces. and, sure, we didn't apologise or anything but i guess we never need to.

credo quia absurdum est

hontou ni kana sai

terrifying weekend it was, sanur drama and the likes.

only, its not exactly drama but a comedy of sorts, short of any hunkables, except shorty, of course.

i came across a rather difficult customer yesterday, who, for some reason, has a grudge against a certain curly-haired psycho with a red badge. she was a horrendous bitch, but i suppose its the fatigue that comes with the CHALLENGING business of making babies AND making her husband's life ridiculously mundane and noisy simultaneously.

if all women ended up as psychotic acid-tongued lactating machines, i'd commit seppuku before i ever got married. or have babies. whichever comes first.

i read the last installation of Card's ender's game and ender's shadow. they were meant to be companion series and both drifted off to different timelines and theme. one was about possible politics after an (yeah i know i know) alien invasion and the other was about some obscure life-related mystery with awesome words like auia and philotes and whatnot. i feel quite sad now that i've reached the end.

if only someone else read the whole lot, then we can rant and rave and gush and mush about the brilliance of Card. sucks to be me. =(

oooor i could coerce someone into reading Card's books AND liking them. heh heh heh. my first target would be... ZH cos, i don't know. you look like a potential Card fan. or i could agonise gabs and make her read the whole book out loud to me over the phone. bunsen burner included. hardeharhar.

or i could just be a normal, curly-haired waitress cum intern-account-coordinator and not read silly, cheem books that make me feel smart(er).

the gang and i came up with ridiculous punchlines to be said at the end of every sentence, preferably, a bitching sentence. such is the influence of oxygen and tahu telur fumes. who needs alcohol when you can get high on the smell of grease?

you've probably guessed it. its childish, but it is the spawn of built-up resentment against Ze Evil Customaires. hontou ni kana sai.

i'm happy. not contented, no. but happy. oops, i felt a surge of endorphins coursing through my veins. oh, there it is again.

i..i...ramble...

hey, you. my deus ex machina. save me from the blasphemy that is my pride. whittle it, give it form.

be my midnight Saviour.

be my plot twist.

my deus ex machina.

oh mein gott

tuesday: post monday blues.

because my monday was a happy one, so i'm quite wary of my tuesday.

course, i'm only joking. in the middle of a lingerie brand competitive analysis now. oh what fun. i get to see lingerie ads from '03 to '07 ok! there are some perks.

someone told me i don't look like a catherine. i look like a cat.

interesting. good night. love you.

You Are An INFP

The Idealist You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close. But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. In love, you tend to have high (and often unrealistic) standards. You are very sensitive. You tend to have intense feelings. At work, you need to do something that expresses your personal values. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist. How you see yourself: Unselfish, empathetic, and spiritual When other people don't get you, they see you as: Unrealistic, naive, and weak

What's Your Personality Type?

so, i fell in love, sort of.

aaaaaand its a saturday morning, time check, its 9.25 and by golly gee whiz, i'm wide awake with no trace of caffeine in my blood! oh, miracles, do happen.

that's not gonna last long, of course, cos i got some media kit from ria and they have ginger coffee. I'M JUST DYING TO HAVE A TASTE OF THAT LETHAL CONCOCTION. i predict hours of shaky fingers and stuttering speech. but well, we live only once.

work took a better turn, though. finally, i get to brainstorm in new business projects together with the dudes and dudettes at IMC. the whole time i was just helping to maintain current accounts and, boy, does it drain the shit outta you.

2 more months, cat. make the best of it.

i woke up this morning as happy as a lark.

just because. and because i have a king and i love my king but he hates that i want to shout my existance.

who knew? i am humbled. but... exuberant. and strongly disliked but deeply loved. i'm going to peel the layers of complication and just.. go forth i guess. whoooooooo fuck it.

chris i read ur blog. thanks. =)

hi, is this disturbing?

i wish i died

not that i'm suicidal or anything, oh no no. far from that. the girl's planning on not dying for a long time.

but, right now, i wish i could sleep forever and then wake up to defecate or something.

i'm tired. drained. wronged. maimed. discarded. whatever. anything. yeah!

fuck all the bigwigs. i've got big hair and it isn't fake. comprende amigo?

which compels me to make a public announcement in my not-so-public blog.

I SWEAR, ON ANYTHING THAT I CAN POSSIBLY SWEAR UPON, THAT I WILL NEVER EVER EVER ACT LIKE THE CLOGGED LITTLE RECTUMS I'VE MET.

fuck it. i'll smile. i'll nod. i'll be careful. i'll appear to be the subservient little juguhjang i am but i will never forgive for as long as i don't forget. i reckon i'll forget soon enough.

i'm not pissed or anything, since i don't seem to have the right to be. i'm some THING that's apart from the system that even my payday is two weeks later than everyone else's.

i. am. fed up. totally.

i probably am going to come out of this as some paranoid loser who's more jaded than before (gasp) and more bitter than the average 19 year old.

oh, seek thee, truth. ponder upon the blasphemy that is our life.

chris, i'm still alive. didn't think you'd, you know, still read the blog. i'll e-mail you or smth. or i don't know. i don't know what to do.

hahahahaha. but this whole entire thing is MY FAULT. i'll think of smth.