7 stages of grieving (for a lack of a better word)
1.denial (saying that i didn't feel anything when bam 5mins later...)
2.anger (clenching and unclenching my fists and punching stuff)
3.madness (burning his hair and laughing nonstop after)
4.delirium (talking to myself and just laughing really quietly)
5.retail theraphy (hello belt,blazer,vs top.bye bye 100bucks)
6.yet to be discovered
7.he says it's sleep (haven't reached this yet)

7 states of grieving (for a lack of a better word)
1.having smudged eyeliner (running mascara is a bonus)
2.red red eyes
3.grimy skin
4.smelling like an ashtray
5.oily like hell hair
6.dry mouth
7.sore throat and headache from 16sticks

i really love you for being there yesterday.and not saying/asking unnecessary things.and just sitting there smoking with me though i doubt i was much fun to be with.and trying to make me laugh.and having mindfucked conversations.not having an answer to my question how can one think about not thinking,does that just not happen naturally.and braving cold water despite pokies.and chatting until you went to watch your show.thank you baby.i promise you that hair grows.like how as you said love can be found and time regained when we die.live fast die young right?


where are you?
like dew on grass,
you were a constant.

where are you?
like west setting sun,
you were a certainty.

where are you?
hiding?leaving?left?
come and fill me?

again-
i am but a canvas;
for you to paint.

i didn't want you;
now you're gone
how cliched

though you refuse,
i force,
i beg.

fuck this shit.
i can't write,
anymore.

save me.





i sleep with my door unlocked.


i will not crumble and fall.no matter how tempting and difficult.limerance will not get the better of me.


when i spirited into the mats i instinctively looked for you but your absence slapped me in the face.i lost nothing yesterday.my hall didn't retain the cheerleading championship and you weren't there.but i lost nothing.in fact i gained determination to be part of shelly's all girls' stunts team.and i am now hell bent to end things with you syeh muhammad hafiz.whoever you're going out with or contacting or whatever you call it can have all of you.last night was my epiphany.






i wrote a haiku and sent it to S.then we had a long chat about random shit like we always do.you should call me more since you're in gnoket and bored shitless.i don't want to go to school today because i'm having a super off outfit day.big fat ugly sighs.please kill me now while i sit in my turqoise(H thinks it's a nice colour) undies and 4inch canary yellow heels.


i don't like the fact that SHE wrote on N's wall.but since we're just friends i can't really demand that N delete what SHE wrote simply because it's HER.

i miss my long-ish hair and my ridiculously long and thick fringe.actually i think i just miss how it looks like when i put it up in a "bun" with my pink pen.

i am falling sick from very odd hours and ridiculously erratic weather.i need some normalcy.can 14th january come any faster?i feel so damned drained.

i realised that i don't need H's presence as much.out of sight out of mind?maybe H's hiatus did me some good.i'm forgetting how it feels to be in bed with him.