Idiosyncrasies & Randomness

While she sat in the park, tears rolled down, as she watched ghosts of the past laughing and bantering next to her.

The cool bench did not help. The cold granite made her reminisced of the warmth that used to surround her during those nights. And now she did not have anyone to sit with her through the chilly nights.

Silent tears glistened on her cheeks; she did not bother wiping the salty drops. What happened? She used to be the happy girl. The joker. The happy-go-lucky. Many problems have come her way, and she took them in her stride. She had her fair share of treachery all around, but she did not take them to heart.

Despite her lessons, this one was by far, the worst of the lot. The cut was deeper because she thought that all along, this was the right one. She felt so strongly for this one. Her loyalty did not seem to pay off much. The fervent passion she had left a blazing scar in her soul.

Deceit can be the vilest experience.

She took heed of the footsteps approaching her. Observing from the corner of her eyes, a black figure, luminous by the moonlight, sauntered to sit next to her.

Hey there, doll face, hand me your valuables, the figure murmured into her ears, as he brandished a knife at her side.

I don’t have any with me right now. All of them are gone. You picked the wrong day, she replied unemotionally. How about you do me a favour? Stick the knife right to my stomach. I hear it’s the quickest way for one to depart.

The figure fumbled as he stared at her feeble posture; she had a good build, but it seems like there was no life in it. The spirit and passion to live left, and she was wretched like an empty shell.

It started to rain. She smiled. She used to love rain. It gave her security and affection.

The choice was his, not hers anymore.

Mel (exclaims): Some more you want to do self-esteem questionnaire???!!!!

Professor’s version:

The ABC of Persuasion

Ampu

Bodek

?

(She did not tell what C stood for)

My version:

The ABC of Persuasion

Ass-Kissing

Brown-nosing

c o c k /c u n t  Sucking

Maybe that’s why she didn’t have a decent or better word for abbreviation C.

I never really understood how funerals help people speed up the grieving process. Until now. Personally, I’m always afraid to look at the body, afraid that it will open its eyes or something. Or maybe the mortician did a bad job, e.g. didn’t sew the eyes or the mouth properly.

I held a wake for my darling Sonny Eric. Except that there was no body to put on display. Hence, I made it a closed casket.

For obvious reasons, I did not want it opened, because then the visitors will be staring at an empty compartment.

To coincide with the Seven Day Prayer, I wrote a song for my dearest friend.

Goodbye Sonny Eric,

May you ever grow in my heart,

You were the tact that placed itself where friends were torn apart.

You called out to my friends, even assholes, latecomers, and slackers alike,

Now you belong to heaven or prob’bly  the dumb-ass who took you away.

And it seemed to me, you lived your life more than just a cell or device,

Never fading with the reception when the rain set in.

Though some may say it was Maxis

But I know it was you,

The money sucking conglomerate

Will never compare to you.

Loveliness I’ve lost; these empty days without your ring.

This regret I’ll carry, for the rest of all my days,

And even though I try,

The truth still ever hurts,

The blame game never worked,

And Chan and Lim were talking cock.

And it seemed to me,

My negligence has brought me such dismay and pain,

As I try to search for you, but all in vain,

Who would’ve have stolen you?

I would not know,

But curse the thieving scum bag,

I hope he gets boils on his ass.

Goodbye Sonny Eric,

No other techies will take your place,

I will always have your box, in which you came in, bringing me joy.

Goodbye Sonny Eric,

If relativity was on my side,

I would turn back the time,

To get you and kick that lying kleptic

And it seemed to me,

All my memories will be lost along with you,

Cruel texts, pictures, of us having fun, deleted by that asshole,

But I have to move on now,

Prism is calling for me,

Its 2 point O will never be your 3 point 2 mp

No you don’t shed a tear, for you will always be in my heart.

I curse the day I fell apart, that asshole will have his turn.

Ok fine, so I didn’t write the song. So what, Weird Al Yankovich does it all the time.

Heavily blatantly plagiarized Paraphased from Taupin & Dwight (1997; see also Taupin & Dwight, 1973).

Taupin, B.J. & Dwight, R.K. (1997). Candle in the wind [Score]. London: MCA.

After the loss of Eric, things are finally picking up. On a brighter note, I’ll be going out with my bxxxxes on Saturday!! Thanks to Ken, we probably-might-hopefully get tickets to watch TRANSFORMERS:REVENGE OF THE FALLEN. Omg, that fella ah, a bit too enthu la. He has arranged this outing like some control freak. Gosh if you came and hassled his wonderful plan, you probably get a bitch slap from him. And so he made a list (a very short one) that comprised those who’ll be invited for this FANTABULOUS night out.

KENNETH YAP’S FANTABULOUS TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN MOVIE INVITATION LIST

1. Himself (of course, duh)
2. Angie (always the No 2)
3. Then comes me

Originally the list just stayed there. But since some of the guys were back, we thought we should give them a tingerlingerling.

      4.    Mr. Tan…formerly EMO boy

      5.    Mr. Ali

Yep, and it stops there.

These guys better be damn grateful to be invited to KENNETH YAP’S EXCLUSIVE FANTABULOUS TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN MOVIE OUTING because it’s like getting invited to P.Diddy’s smashing bootilicious partay (If you know me well, you would very well know what tone I’m using to say that).

MK just doesn’t get it. “Why is he planning so early? And how the heck is he getting the tix?”

Because its like this: it’s a very big thing to him. It’s akin to, y’know, how some girls plan their weddings since they were young, and they wear curtains to pretend to be brides, and how they go about making invitation lists, what dress they should wear, what design, what flowers to deco….yeah, so this FANTABULOUS TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN MOVIE OUTING is a whopping event to him. Ever since the credits of the first movie rolled out, he’s been planning it already. Think of it as though he IS the little girl. You wouldn’t want to dash a little girl’s dream now, would you?

On the same note, you wouldn’t even think of killing an innocent girl’s enthusiastic outlook of the world.

Moving on, I think I should pick out my outfit for KENNETH YAP’S EXCLUSIVE FANTABULOUS TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN MOVIE OUTING. I mean, it IS a wedding. Excite!! Excite!!

OOOO! And Clar is coming back too! Yay! How? how how how la.

Everybody seems to be losing something nowadays. Came across this on my fridge.

The dog’s name is Lucky.

You’ve got to laugh at the ironicity of it. If there is such a word.

Look like man’s best friend ain’t so lucky after all.

I lost my best friend too.

His name was Sonny.

He died. But somehow, I still believe that he is still alive somewhere. Out there. In some bastard’s pocket. I curse that his lifeline will melt/burst and cause that person to have boils on his/her backside. I’m serious. I’ve never been so blitheringly mad at someone, until today. And it’s atypical of me to curse somebody; in this case, the bitch-ass brigand, let alone swear here. Very unladylike.

And he/she caused me depression. The depression is “sooooo not” me, a good friend of mine noted. Yes, and I accept that it was just in thar slight moment when I slipped, and neglected Sonny. Stupid me. Brainless, foolish, dumb-ass me. But still, you would positively think that people could try to have a bit of honesty and not make someone’s life miserable. Don’t be naïve, another friend bluntly stabbed. Hey, j-j-jaded! Crows Mr. Stephen Tyler.

Elisabeth Kübler-Ross (1997, as cited in Ciccarelli & Meyer, 2006) reports five stages of grief:

Denial

Anger

Bargaining

Depression

Acceptance

[For further elaboration of the stages, visit www.google.com or www.wikipedia.com]

So far, I’ve been bouncing off these 5 stages like a Ping-Pong ball. No, no. I’ve not reached the 5^th yet, so it’s just the first four. Right now, I’m in the second stage. It helps to keep me focus on the dastardly thief, rather than wallowing in regret over my stupidity. And the blame game helps too. According to Chan and Lim (2009), blaming others helps one to pay no heed to the real cause of the outcome or incident. The blameable entity unfocuses the individual to another blameworthiness or state of fault. In Chan and Lim’s 2009 experiment, their results indicated that the participants tended to blame God, and/or Lala. Obviously, one would need to cry it out loud: “Blame God!” “Blame Lala!” and if one cannot verbally express the sentiment (due to unforeseen circumstances), he or she could point the right index finder upwards, and point the left index finger to the left. This also depends on the handedness of the person. In this case, it would be the right hander who would do the above.

[Which reminds me. I’d like to thank these few good people who are patiently  listening to me lament and  were there to unwearyingly carry me out of this depressive and grieving state. Particularly, Yin/Yang, ZX, Ken, and MK. I love you guys man]

Hence, here is my list of those to blame:

1. Blame Effeminate Boy (Annoying the serenity out of me that day).
2. Blame Monday Emo Boy (Because of his miserable story that evening, I forgot about Sonny).
3. Blame the protestors (Protesting during that evening distracted me).
4. Blame international Saya-lari and those who were protesting (The uproar caused the Saya-laris here to vent their frustration since they had nothing better to do on that Monday evening—Ok, fine, it was No.5 who caused the chaos).
5. Blame the Pepper-Spray Gang (Having an extra supply of pepper-spray caused them to manifest their power and control over unarmed and vulnerable victims. Eh hello, can you guys make good use of our tax-paying money ah??? TNS)
6. Blame Ahmedinejad (For winning [tampering/rigging---or so they say] the election, and causing the worldwide protests, which caused the PSG to get all their megalomaniacal brawn pumped up, which hurtled the local SLs into a chaotic frenzy, and hence caused the personal negligence)

Truthfully,

      7.   Blame self (For slapdash attention, scatterbrain-dedness, and absent-mindedness)

Mad says that I have taken into this gloomy persona. Sorry dudes, but it doesn’t help when you’ve got  lousy bargers kicking, and stomping you down even more when you’re already down. Yes, and it’s all thanks to these asses that I’ve lost my best friend last Monday.

Hey, the blame game does work in the short run.

References

Ciccarelli, S.K. & Meyer, G.E. (2006). Psychology. New Jersey: Pearson Prentice Hall.

Chan, Z.X. & Lim, W.K. (2009). Stupidity is a force unto itself. Taman Tun Dr. Ismail: Penerbitan Charmanduh.

Why did you do that?

I did it because thought you would not have noticed.

 There is a thin line between deceit and feign.

I thought you said I could.

Clearly, you have misunderstood.

I said not to.

I did not understand you.

I could not have put it anymore plainly.

A 3 year old would not miscontrue the simple words that came out of my mouth.

Does this change anything?

My perception of you now has changed.

Where do we go from here?

I don’t know. You have definitely put the ship in awkward waters.

It’s been nearly a month since I last updated. No, I have not abandoned this, eventhough it may seem like it.

So I just got home from a movie date. Watched X-Men Origins: Wolverine.

One word:

Orgasmic.

Goodness gracious me. I’ve never seen so much ripped muscles on screen before… besides 300. That movie made me a woman.

And, there it was. A well-toned, butt-white Hugh Jackman running stark naked across the screen….

Fantabulous man.

Blady hell, I wish I were in that old man’s shoes at the barn. Except the part where he got shot… That was kinda sad.

Anyway, back to the movie. I found it tragic that he couldn’t remember his kindergarten teacher girlfriend in the end. Poor girl died for nothing. Became a lost memory. Then again, she was a little self-centered when she played him out.

BUT

Yeah! She should’ve thought about it properly before she did so. He was so sweet and loving to her. I mean, c’mon girl! If I had a man with a bod of Mr. Jackman, I would think twice before sticking a knife into his heart. What’s more, with the whole lotta lurrrvveee in that virility… Youse a fool, girl.

You rarely come across a man like this.

They are a dying species.

Near to extinction.

All you have nowadays are whiny/incompetent/puerile douchebags.

Who either want you to mollycoddle them AND/OR most likely want to get in your pants, and use you dry.

[Which reminds me, I hope His Royal Highness had fun today...Instead of wandering around the house miserably.]

Plus, did you see how he was so hurt after he found out? I tell ye, I wanted to reach out to the screen and comfort him.

And what’s the deal with his brother, Victor Creed aka Sabretooth aka Vengeful-Fanged-Dude-in-desperate-need-of-a-manicure-&-orthodontist? Hot and Cold syndrome. Gosh. Sounds like someone I know.

However, I didn’t find the jokes funny at all. About 25% of them were passable. They were the kind where after hearing it, you just go “hehr”.  Not to say they were all lame. They were the amusing types.

I did laugh out when I saw what Stryker did to Ryan Reynolds (Wade, who became Deadpool). And that was because His Majesty pointed out, “Oh….HAHAHAHA! He became Freako!”

Like friggin heck, I wasn’t even concentrating on the movie. Sigh… All I thought was: Hey! Since Kayla the Persuasion Chick duped you, Logan, come take my hand and you can totally forget about her. And yes, siree, you can be ‘THE ANIMAL’ in MY bedroom. 

All in all, he’ll be my summer infatuation for this year. Again.

I need to keep an eye out for gentle beasts like him.

Though, the crops are kind of dry now. And Houston, we’re heading for a drought.

Something for you girls (and guys) to ogle at in the meantime.

I just had to.

Now, that’s what I call a man.

Mutaneously yours,

Charmaniac