A blank

I guess it’s funny how there’s higher readership on special days. At least you people are expecting something. For that, thank you. 

Sometimes I do wish my life were more interesting, that way you’ll be more amused. Your trip here won’t be as wasted. 

For birthdays, I do a lot of wishing. For one I wished I could share more personal issues with you all. But you know I can’t and probably won’t [for now]. 

-

I wished that the world was a fishbowl with no sides. Just water. Just beauty. Just golden fish. And deep blue.

I wished my life weren’t just a bleep.  People hardly hear through the radio. 

I wished that I were blind to black and white. Please buy me a new colouring book.

I wished I were born in Imperial Russia as a serf. Or Ancient Egypt as a slave. Or 21st Century Saudi Arabia as a woman. 

I wished Madonna were the Queen of England.

I wished God were an exotic semi – Indian dancer. That way I may be able to relate with him more. 

come what may

it’s so sad. I should really just crawl back into mummy’s womb and die. at least it’s quiet there.

Ah well…wand still in your jeans?

This is so sweet. Hermione and Harry grow up so well (:

something isn’t right.

WAZZUP! I HAZ WEASEL IN HAIR! 

This is the magnifico, fantabulous, terrificent Chantal Biya – the First Lady of Cameroon, who stunningly realises that her GIGANTROUS mane speaks more Africa than starving children. 

CAUTION: Plz stand on ladder to view head of this 80’s style lion. 

HAPPY 35th!

OH GOD NO!
BELATED BLESSED BIRTHDAY VICTORIA BECKHAM!

Oh tish tosh, Madame Posh I promise I will love you and be loyal to you forever, even IF you continue looking like an owl which has just EXPLODED! 

PS: I totally get that fur is major this season but … how many puppies did you have to kill to do it?
PPS: Please remind David to make love to you and send me the tapes! 

smoke with me

Photograph: Kobal

… and child actors were typically paid in bushels of tobacco. It was a golden age of yellow fingers and syrupy lungs, before the final credits rolled. – Guardian

Metallics are In

Architect Dietmar Koering of Arphenotype has designed these electricity pylons for a competition to envisage a new power transmission network in Iceland.

I can’t comprehend the architectural beauty of these transmission lines. Oh and yes, hiding them underground is smart (wowee for Singapore), but it certainly isn’t sexy.

- I know this hardly serves as a diversion from the hectic lives we lead. But hopefully it’s distraction enough – beautiful and fleeting.  Good things never last. 

I admit. I understand Chinese.

I actually swear by this. Music sounds better when you don’t understand what it means! A citation of all the symphonic waves I’ve tried and enjoyed. French! Arabic! Russian! Latino (Spanish/ Latin)! AND NOW TIBETAN Chinese! 

Really, I’m thanking God. This is one of the rare occasions that my eardrums don’t bleed or I spontaneously rip at my face when I listen to Chinese music. Frankly the music video sucks, the singer is ugly; BUT the metaphors are lovely, the lyrics MEANINGFUL and the voice decent.  It’s ok if you hate it though… hehe

little miss pixie!

Please let me spend Good Friday ‘10 more spiritually!

Watching Posh prance around on those 5 inch heels is oh-so-not religious. 

Do forgive me. I get really bored on extended weekends where there’s especially lots to do, and when I actually do nothing at all.

Papier mâché – très chic!

This is both hilariously cute and sad. The pandas, installed by members of the WWF in Paris, represent each of the remaining 1,600 pandas left in the wild.

Well, I’m not sure on what point they’re trying to make by killing trees to save pandas, but it appears to be effective nonetheless.

And AS USUAL, Pandas make me miss Beijing. So there.

VERYSADFACE

I don’t even know why I bother. I’ve decided that blogging = me talking to myself. That’s the only band-aid I have on that gaping wound of misery and depression and -insert random negative emotion-.

Just to recall whatever happened since the last time my brain worked proper. 

Beijing was bloody fucking brilliant. There is no way I’ll change those experiences or forget a single shit. The word is: Memory