explosion.

I'm sick of fighting and mouldy walls.
I'm sick of fighting and mouldy walls.
I'm sick of fighting and mouldy walls.
I'm sick of fighting and mouldy walls.
I'm sick of fighting and mouldy walls.

Why are you so fucking insensitive?
Why.

note to self. Please note that tomorrow is Wednesday.
And there is drama elective on Wednesday.
note note to self. Do not burst out laughing in math class again.
Because you will get detention for it. You stupidhead.
You're fucking insensitive, but I'm relatively the same-
maybe that's why we piss each other off to the milkyway everytime we try to talk.

Bennnnzo- strepsils.
Me- I'll rumage my fridge later.
Bennnnzo- I'm still in Bukit Gombak.
Me- Wtf you doing on the other end of the universe?

During school days, my planetary-adventures range from the secluded patch next to Changi Prison
to the proximities of Tanjong Katong Road. Anything out of that, is the other end of the universe.
Unexplored.
Like Bukit Gombak.

I have no life. I have no life. I have no life.
School-tuition-drama-tuition-school.
I am moody.
Because my mother is asking me what I'm doing on the computer again.
"LAUURRAAAA. WHAT YOU DOING ON THE COMPUTER! NOT STUDYING AH?"
"It's the 2nd weeek of school mom. If I study, I'm a nut."
"YOUR TESTS ARE COMING."
"They are DIAGNOSTIC TESTS."
"HUH? WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE COMPUTER?!!"
"blogging."
"YOU SURE????"

No mom, I'm searching suicide websites. Ugh.
And PLEASE tell me how the flying cows do you relate math to divorce, Mr Yap?

I'm sorry if there's this lack of me. School, schoolwork and never-ending projectwork. I hate it as much as you do. I'm juggling that, conflict and trying to survive the monsoons. But it's no excuse, I promised to be there, and I will be. Give me time, and I'll show you the worth of what you put your bet on.

Please don't walk away. I'll die.

I seem to blog alot more when I'm moody. Crappy-ho people.