Descent

woah.

in primary one,
i used to have this good friend of mine.
she was this malay girl.


we were really close.
like we did lots of thing together.
and like wise in primary two.

okay, for me,
laziness kicked in at an early age.

i was in the first class for pri1 and 2.
so when i was in pri 2,
my class position was somewhere close to the bottom.


so the following year,
i got kicked to the next class.

doesnt sound so bad right?
your mother bodoh.

there were all kinds of numnuts.


freaky looking people who cold fail the now deceased spelling test,
even after copying,
girls who looked like they didnt bathe,
boys who looked like they didnt bathe,
and there was even someone who lived in woodlands!
when my school was in bedok.


it didnt seem weird at that time,
but now that i think of it....


anyway, back to the girl.
so there we were, in different classes.
we totally stopped talking.

it was weird everytime i walked by her.
and so years passed by,
and i think the last time i spoke to her was like in...
primary 4 or 5.
so since i was 10.

FUCKING 8-9 YEARS SIA.


i just got her email and im really looking forward to catching up.


IN OTHER SHITTY NEWS,

i bought my first book!
it cost me like 32 bucks okay


all of you better get used to see me reading ah.
but this book seems so much better than any other book i'd cope from the school library.


it really gets me thinking.
like theres this quote
"i ask you right here to please agree with me that a scar is never ugly.that is what the scar makers want us to think. but you and i, must make an agreement to defy them. we must see all scars as beauty okay? because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. a scar means 'I SURVIVED'"


there are a few other parts that really gets me thinking.
i like that.
i like listening or reading about stuff that makes me think or helps me change my perception in life.
i also like how it makes me make better life decisions.

that one best.
my conscience is growing bigger.

thats good ah.



the other day i found a phone i a cab i took.


at first i was having an argument with the taxi driver why he didnt let me smoke in the taxi.

i was like complaining and shit.
and there it was.
a cybershot phone.
i looked at sean with my mouth wide open.

he was like giving me hand signals asking me to hide it.

and me,
i was thinking of whether i shoud keep it or return it.
the taxi driver looked like a desperate drunkard who'd do anything for a quick buck.

so i kept it for myself.

sean told me to bring it back home and think of what i should do.
i was really really tempted to take it.

but there was already like 22 missed calls and numerous messages asking to return the phone.


upon further disturbing inspection,

it was the phone fucking belonged to a fucking maid and was sharing it with her fucking bangla boyfriend.

i was like,
nobody answered to my pleas when i lost my phone,
so why the hell should i return this one?

but nah.
my conscience was in the midst of growing.

so i made the effort of calling the fucker who called 22 times.
and so it was the bangla boyfriend.

i told him to meet me at simei at 9.
and he stays at fucking ang mo kio sia.


he was there on the dot sia.
even foreigners can beat Singaporeans in punctuality sia.

all in all,
i felt like I could have made the quick buck.


but whatever ah.








THE WORLD NABEI BODOH.


oh btw,
o's are over.





uh..
yay.