This entry is a response to TULS's request. It's been quite a while since I've tried crazy pitch numbers. So to raise the bar, I decided to belt this out under a hot sunny afternoon on an empty stomach while smoking. It's a disappointment that I can no longer pull all the falsettos effortlessly. (Sebab tu I tukar pitch) I guess it comes with fervent practice. But this is fun. Makes me wanna try even more ridiculous numbers in the future.
Okay, just to note, don't ask me why I am topless. It's freakin hawt that's why! Don't even comment on my boxers lah, furnitures lah this and that ok?
Oh dear, I am finally writing again! And I believe this is the very first time I am blogging under the influence of alcohol, unconstrained and consciously feeling very, very, very lonely. Where have I been? What have I been doing? I have somewhat abandoned my private sanctuary, my only abode where I get to shout like a bitch in heat; a broken hearted Chinese faggot.
I've been hiding. Hiding from friends whom I thought would only lead me to self-distruction. I've disappeared for two weeks back in my serene home town. Seeing my newborn nephew, just a few days old with such enthusiastic limbs; kicking and flinching without the constrain of mummy's womb. Lucas have such profound eyes, barely foccussed, he reminded me greatly on the innocence of being alive. How sometimes, matters are just the way they are without allegories. Not cryptic, not difficult and doesn't fuck with the mind.
So, what really happened to me? I grew old or rather, I finally woke up feeling 34. Threw my freelancing away, locked it up somewhere inside me and took up a full-time job as an Art Director. Where will this lead me I do not know. How long can I keep this up I do not know. I only know that Maya will die on me if I do not suck it all up and fucking make ends meet.
(Pounding in my skull)
Suddenly, I just cannot fasten my thoughts on finishing this entry...