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"Is it weird in here or is it just me?" Woody Allen

HOWDY! This is a platform for me to express myself. To bare my thoughts, emotions and life stories. Leaving bite-size pieces of me before I go. I graciously invite you to comment, swap stories and thoughts. Please post your comment or get in touch with me here.


alexandra wong
lynn wabbit

09.03 10.03 01.04 02.04 03.04 04.04 05.04 06.04 07.04 08.04 09.04 10.04 11.04 12.04 01.05 02.05 03.05 04.05 05.05 06.05 07.05 08.05 09.05 10.05 11.05 12.05 01.06 02.06 03.06 04.06 05.06 06.06 07.06 08.06 09.06 10.06 11.06 12.06 01.07 02.07 03.07 04.07 05.07 06.07 07.07 08.07 09.07 10.07 11.07 02.08 03.08 05.08 09.08 10.08 12.08 02.09 04.09 05.09 06.09 07.09

a rustic analysis*
bo leh*
buat donno*
jakun & boon cit - a love story. not.*
jingling nona*
many happy returns of the day, u sexy u*
love misunderstood*
no willy*
perfect man*
save me from this misery*
tan ah yam, i'm sorry*

an interview with joe blogs*
woo! a review!*

halong bay - you jump, i save you*
hanoi on my mind*
hanoi - in search of the pain-in-the-arse ice cream and other stories in between*
sungai petani, my hometown* [pt 1]
leave my country* [pt 1]
leave my country* [pt 2]
ozcapade* [pt 1]
ozcapade* [pt 2]
ozcapade* [pt 3a]
ozcapade* [pt 3b]
moomoo vista* [pt 1]
moomoo vista* [pt 2]
moomoo vista* [pt 3]
ah moy in paris* [pt 1]

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cloud 9 dilemma* 

I like you.
I like the idea of me liking you.
And it matters not if you like me too. Or not.
I know it's just not meant to be.
Coz I missed the bus. Your bus.
Your driver drove too fast.
I didn't reach the stop on time.
Or maybe I was at the wrong stop.
I still like you regardless.
When you smile at me, my heart skips a beat.
When you call my name, it never sounded sexier.
When we accidentally touched, I was tempted never to wash my hands.
But I am a cleanliness freak. So I did wash them. Reluctantly.
The tap water you served me tasted sweeter than honey.
Though it's not boiled.
And did I mention there's brown residues at the bottom of the glass.
Please serve me water sparingly.
I'm scared I'll get diabetes if I drink too much.
And oooh...the coffee. Your coffee.
Coffee never tasted better either.
I get high anticipating what else you'll be serving me.
Musically, we are worlds apart.
I don't quite dig classicals.
But since you like it, I'm trying my darnest best to like it too.
I just hope you don't like opera as well.
If so, I'm afraid I'd have to assasinate the fat lady.
But if the fat lady dies, she will not be able to sing.
And the opera will never come to an end.
I'm confused.
Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I had met you earlier.
Would I like you then, the way I like you now?
Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. I won't know.
Still, I wished I had met you earlier.
But your driver drove too fast.
And I missed the stop.
Why didn't you ask him to adhere to the speed limit?

Alas, your bus did make a stop.
And someone else hitched the ride before me...

June 06, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 2:34 am