Stomach Shit With Flies

Plain and simple. Before every gig it is a must to fall sick or get some sort of ailment. Its been over a week and i'm still down with the flu and the sore throat and cough. Fuck a fuckin milk cow. 2 more hours before the gig. Great.

This sucks.


---*edit:-

Made it into the finals. Oh thank you God!

This doesn't suck as bad as i thought i would have. So commences the spamming of honey and herbal remedy and tea's and medication in efforts of miracle healing throughout the night to make it tomorrow.

Hopefully i wont sound like a swallowed a bucketful of a concoction of cum-paint-satay sauce tomorrow. This one is for the boys in Mezzo!

Hey Man, There's A Life Out There Too!

Living inside a shell can be a beneficial if not superficial way of saying how great life is with everything you can want to have in your dreams; like living inside the container of the 4 tonne trailer, driving the car of your dreams up and down the fucking trailer, watching MTV and jerking off to Kim Kardashian or Jessica Biel or Jade Goody on the E! channel all day. Of course you have bragging rights to! ‘Fuck! What car do you think I should buy ah? Satria ? Only two doors leh, Vios? The back not so nice right’ to a bunch of people who couldn’t give a flying fuck if you bought a ‘proton saga tujuh-puluhan’ or a ‘01 Beetle’. Great you got a couple of them saying ‘show-off, or fucking prick’. Dude, you’re still living underneath a shell or in your own great words, my comfortable trailer container man!

Lay off on the trying to talk big and do something that will actually shock me. Tell me you have a plane or your dad shot 12 people with 8 bullets back in the day and made his money fucking the opposite your house motorbike trader’s grandfathers ass when he was 14 to get some money to start up his MLM capital. He ain’t rich and neither are you, you drive a fuckin mother paid for car, with a clueless tyre-faced head stuck up her arse in the ground type girlfriend. So please for the sake of humanity and a little class; stop showing off unless you can really bend over and tie your shoelaces without the comments of someone making fun of your skinny ass or 28-cent hair dye dry hairstyle motherfucker.

So take this piece of advice for I only give it out once, take your ass out of your head and open the little locks and bolts inside your little container and fucking breathe in the fresh air ourside your sheltered life and maybe right there you can realize how much we don’t give a fuck about you, your girlfriend, your life, your wannabe millionaire rich parents who don’t have a cent to send you to Europe for an education but are likely to consider Thailand because ‘its closer to home’ for the obvious reasons of decorating the house you live in with the middle upper class ‘nice’ things for the rich to see and scoff and the paupers to marvel and envy at whilst leaving nothing in their fucking bank accounts for themselves should they contract cancer.

Go out there and do something with your life boy. Take a punch from someone and feel how much it hurts. If you fall let’s see how you get up and take another hit. You probably can’t even think about getting up from a hit if you thought about getting up from one. Despite your ‘my balls so big i can tapau anyone in counter strike and world of warcraft, cabal, fifa, lowyat.net and jamtank.net’; you’re still just an undeveloped infant deformed with an umbilical cord stuck with ‘be safe’, ‘cannot one’, ‘we go lim chiu tonight and play my girlfriend’s ning ku pau when she drunk maybe can fuck her’ to the monitors.

I wouldn’t be surprised.

The Day Manchester United Won The Champions League

And so it is just like you said it would be;

That we would fall apart and break into pieces in the process of our own self destruction. Or probably as is always the case, my driven purpose to push the self destruct button at every possible chance. To jump before the catch, to take the dive when its way beyond empty and break the fall withyour heart before mine. The way only I can. Or so it seems. May I for once step forward and say that I have grown up? Would you even believe me or would you believe the hype of the shameless playboy rich kid with his air of nonchalance and fuck all body language.
I am not as you always say I am. Not even close are those that know me skin deep. Please believe in me again

Life goes easy on me most of the time;

I had it all and I threw it all away, you fuck. That despite my personal battle with the demons that plague my adolescence and fore coming adulthood, I never really had it bad. Even when I lived on thirteen hundred dollars and spent nine hundred on rents and fuel life was never Jewish-holocaust-refugee harsh.
I am not from the streets of-lose-everything-you-have-in-life guy I make myself out to be. I am humbled before you

No hero in her sky

Not the superman she envisioned me to be. More of relationship anti-hero that stands his ground without moving from ‘I am right and this is why, blah blah blah bullshit’ despite really being afraid of losing her. As much as you may think I fail you on purpose every single other day, I never mean to but its probably possible I’m the only who believes in this moment we have together is inseparable or at least should be. Like the boy who cried wolf will I earn her trust again? Please don’t say its too late. How can I even think of being superhuman when the saving myself-part roams in its own time, shuffling through lost causes and through the meandering of faith?
Show me where I am weak Guide me

I can’t take my eyes off you

Pull me out from inside and I’ll show you where the flowers grow. I am ready but I’m colourblind. The tie suffocates my neck and I’m gasping for air in blind struggles like when my heart skips a beat and I stutter like that of a seven year old on Christmas in your presence despite my supposed calmness and lucid demeanor.

I love you. I miss you. Please come home

The Beautiful Girls Cometh

Supermodels are beautiful girls, Will. A beautiful girl can make you dizzy, like you've been drinking Jack and Coke all morning. She can make you feel high full of the single greatest commodity known to man - promise. Promise of a better day. Promise of a greater hope. Promise of a new tomorrow. This particular aura can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl. In her smile, in her soul, the way she makes every rotten little thing about life seem like it's going to be okay. The supermodels, Willy? That's all they are. Bottled promise. Scenes from a brand new day. Hope dancing in stiletto heels - Beautiful Girls (1996)

One of the best movies for adolescents growing up and learning the different perspective of the life you would never know or understood. Growing up before your time and the old pooh analogies.