See What I Mean?

Men.

She would lie down in her bed at night, thinking how stupid men were and how bloody easy it was to control them. The poor boys don't know it, but they wanted to be controlled.

They needed to be controlled.

-Sidney Shelldon.

The Reminiscences of a Fallen Angel; Part 9.

I am going to have and arranged meeting with Kyle and Barbara after school with their dead father's sister, Norma.

The bed creaking, I lazily sat up in my big spacious bed of mine. I woke up from a very bad dream. For normal people, dreams would appear in sound and colour. My nightmares usually appear in black and white with no sounds. Can you imagine a mad murderer chasing you down a dark alley and not being able to hear any sounds? Not being able to let out your gurgled scream while you die slowly in your nightmare? And I always thought in my previous life, I was born a dog.

After my usual speedy breakfast and bath, I jumped into my long, mean, speedy Ford Galaxy. I melted into the seats, closed my eyes and relaxed. She was my pride and joy. I was fascinated with the rock and roll era in the 1960's in the US when everyone was dancing to rock '&' roll to radios while TV stations wanted rock '&' roll banned because it was the devil's music. And another good thing in that era. Drive thru burger joints and the rev' rolling drop top down cars. First produced in 1959', this Ford Galaxy was a 2ND generation beauty. Leather interior, old school feel to it. The seats has a delicious musty smell, not to strong with a scent of lemon air freshener. It really brings you back to the past. What would it be like to be there... Experiencing the sights and sounds. Lindy hop dancing in streets, hot waitress in coffee joints. My car is a time machine. Always is.

-

"Hi Kyle, Hi Barbara. My name is Jupiter but you can call me Juppie. Are you guys feeling hungry?"

Kyle really looked even more handsome in person then in his pictures when I was reading through his profile before they got into the car. He had this dark blond hair, that was a scary resemblance to Owen Wilson's hair. Really like Kurt Cobain indeed.

"Barbara, do you want some ice-cream?", I cooed.

She looked at me, with fear. She gripped onto her brother's hand tighter.

"I'm sorry, Juppie... My sister's a little bit terrified of strangers after seeing the big man who shot Daddy last week."
"I understand."
"No, you don't.", he said this statement defiantly. Tears were welling up in his eyes. He turned away.

"Alright, tell you what, lets hit Travers Park and we can buy ice cream. And if you're feeling better we can buy bread and feed the ducks. Sounds like a good idea?"

Silence.

I held my steering wheel tightly, hoping it would magically come to life and start turning on its own. It would not.

"I know this is weird, some unknown lady coming in and taking you guys away. But you have to trust me. I am a good person. I promise." Kyle looked at me hard with his bright blue eyes. He was unfolding me slowly, reading me intently. Barbara started sucking on her thumb.

"Ice cream would be nice. M&M's too.", he said quietly as he looked out of the car window.

-

When were the days, when people would just buy from the ice-cream man and eat their ice cream in the hot sun, trying to lick off all dripping ice-cream?

When were the days, when people would go up to your house and ask you to go out on a date?

When were the days, when inviting your partner over to dinner was almost a family ritual so that your partner could win over your parents heart?

Just because of modern methods of love, i'm beginning to miss the old method of love; the way we used to woo out partner.... the traditional and innocent way. Fuck text messages, fancy restaurants and outing with just you and your partner...

Do it the old way.

Growing Up Isn't As Easy As You Think.

Dear Erika,

Please be a good girl. I know you're trying your best to be just YOU but it's not enough. Don't be as friendly as you once were; people might think you're either easy or gullible. See through people's intentions. Some things are just too good to be true, well, you're wrong. There's always the consequences.

As for the smoking, I'm glad you've quit. I'm extremely happy for you. There are other ways to relieve your stress other then smoking. And you know what I mean. ;)

The qualities that you should keep is your tenacity to work hard. Keep working, goals aren't meant to be easy but you'll get there soon enough. Be brave and stand up for those who are right and put people in their place who're wrong.

You're growing up to be a beautiful lady.

As for love... don't go looking for it, let it find you. Don't sweat it, if love happens, so be it. If not, that's ok.

I'm always here looking out for you and be your guide and listening ear.

Take care, my dear.

Forever and always,
Miss Diary.

New Beginning.

Whole new beginning, whole new year.

I kicked start off the new year with a stupid tiff with my step-mom.
What a way to start the new year.

For this year I'd like to.
1. Stop smoking.
2. Try to be more nicer.
3. Not to be so sensitive.
4. More giving.
5. Someone to love.

Hopefully, this year goes smooth for me, no matter what.
(sorry to disappoint, I have little to say for now.)

Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas everyone!
This year's christmas is like no other.

We had a small little gathering of ours. Had a full Eurasian spread dinner. (Gotten sick of turkey, ham and the likes!)

If my bff Khairiyah could eat pork, I WOULD SO BRING HER, :<

So, think Curry Devil (with bacon, chicken, ham and white sausages!), Chap Chye, Corn Beef Cutlet, Smoore (its a beef gravy thing.) and Vindaloo and the sambal fish thing my dad's best friend lovessss to eat.

It was nice coming together again.

Well done.

Monogamy.

I broke up with a boyfriend of mine.
I'm seeing 3 guys and a girl... now.

Different persona with every different one of them. If I'm in a good mood, i'd be very very chatty but taking notes of every single thing around me; acting really blur. Bad mood, I'll be very quiet, cursing under my breathe. Answering with either a yes or no.

I hope you'll be able to read me. I can be very predictable. But read me with caution. Things tend to take a toll in a surprising way. Expect the impossible, I tell myselg.

King Con!!

Alright, so I'll be starring in a short film, "King Con!!" where I'll have to dress as a Gothic Lolita.

I'm super psyched because I'll get to wear a pretty dress/corset and look gothic and Victorian-ish!

Ok, I better stop, :P

GOTHIC LOLITA HERE I COME!

Do you feel it? The Pain from love?

How do you know you love me?

You'd opened your life and embraced me with your heart, weaved tiny threads out of our dreams and made it a cloth of colours, idealistic pictures and imaginative characters.

Do you feel the love?

Do you feel your heart leap everytime the phone rings, and how its sinks when the caller is not who you're expecting? Do you feel my heart pounding, sending vibrations from over the other line when you said you love me... each and every time, until I get so dizzy from the blood rushing up to my brain that all i could utter was an idiotic monosyllable 'uh'? Do you feel the tingles down my spine, the warm sensation spreading from my stomach like somebody had fed me a bowl of hot soup in the middle of winter whenever I hear you laugh?

Now, do you feel the pain?

When you fall off your bicycle, the shock of it when you first fall prevents the pain from registering in your brain... not yet. You watch as the droplets of blood grow bigger, congregate and trickles out from the wound.
pain?

Not yet.

You try to pick yourself up.... stand up you moron! Hoping nobody saw your far-from-graceful dip into the bushes as you try to shake twigs and leaves from your hair.
in a flash, just when you're about to be on your two feet, the pain registers in full force.

That is when you crumble. That is when you feel Pain.

But this is not the Pain i'm feeling right now.

When I heard the news from you, it didn't register. The words swirled around in my head like whiskey and ice swishing in a ball glass. The exasperation of not being able to even protest choked the words coming out in my throat. I had to gasp for air as everything became a blur. The voices sounded like alien language, the people around me seemed to float around aimlessly and the lights... where're the lights??

It didn't register until 2 days later. As i sit here, the words come into place, the wonderful picture which had been in my mind is smashed into smithereens. I am suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of helplesness as Pain seeps into my brain, slowly but surely. An invisible hand reaches for my heart, tears it out and squeezes the life out of it, as I watch, maimed.

But I know my heart will not die. Pain has other plans for it. It has plans for each and every kind of hurt we encounter. The damage Pain thinks exceptionally pleasurable to inflict, which requires a more scheming and predominant execution plan, is from love. It lets you sit through an endless replay of those happier times, It lets you recall words you think you have forgotten, words which didn't seem to mean much until now when Pain has skilfully edited and elucidate the significance of those plain, simple words. But Pain will not kill my heart... not yet. It has tasted my tears, smelled my fears, heard my begs for It to stop and It is now holding on to my heart, prodding, playing, stabbing... laughing. When Pain is done with my heart, It will return me with one piece missing, depending on how large a souvenir It wants to keep.

Do you feel this pain? The Pain from love.

Mind Games.

Too innocent, to brag.
Too greedy, to let homeless in.

Maybe if we were to show some kindness, a little bit more compassion, the world wouldn't be such a bad and mean place to live in. ):