dead tears

i want to cry.
i need to cry.
i have to cry.

it's been since forever.
but i just can't get the tears out.

it's frustrating.
it hurts.

i don't know how to get it over with.

this sucks. seriously.

every time an emotion builds up inside,
and i can't burst it, it turns into a burden.
eventually i will have to burst.
and that would be major.
and i don't want that.
major burst is major major drama.

please let me go faster. please.

as simple as how we chinese eat. NON-HALAL~LA!

now this is hilarious.
when i heard about it from Philip,
i thought yea right.
and when i read the online newspaper, which was barely a sentences,
i still figured... yea sure.

but now... OMFG.

honestly it's as simple as how we Chinese eat.

if the malays... i mean if the islams do not fancy it,
just put a damn NON-HALAL sign there.
*because some malays are not that islamic*

why the fuck did they ban my Avril concert?
ma ci bai!

even tho i did not buy the ticket. but i am sure i will be seeing her.
some how...
ci bai!!!

you are afraid of your kinds getting more screwed up?
then put~la a NON-HALAL concert sign there!!!

ISHHHHHHH... i wonder if Avril sang Chinese would they care to ban?

like hello they didn't ban S.H.E. or Jolin from entering... BODOHS!

and the organizers also another one...
why didn't they promot Avril as CHINESE POP STAR?
she has her songs in different languages what!

MA HAI!

what merdeka? this year has anyone seen any flags on the cars?
almost... most definitely ZERO!

T_T
i sads.

*nah just needed to rant my cunt-try's ass off ain't that sad about it. :P*

it's just that it's time we put a stop to this silliness.
if the islam can't take it.
then make a NON-HALAL concert.
FIN.
it's AS if the rich islams would not fly to singapore/indonesia to watch a sexy bomb sing la.
gosh. brainless.
can make money ok!
like sell the tickets more ex la!
sure the kampung folks can't afford ma. doinks.
city folks already corrupted la. with or without Avril...
no differences. :P

now i wonder what Avril is thinking...
"THANK ALLAH for banning me. I so did not wanna wear a bloody sauna suit JUBAH... WOOTS!!!"
-_-

oppie opsie agie

amazingly i have forgotten what it was that i needed to rant.

and if it's forgettable, it means it's unimportant.

but most importantly i think i have become some sort of ;enlightening being'.
or at least one quarter way there.
since i rarely show my 100% bitchy side these days.
except the occasional pms-ing moments.
so please do check with the weather station.

*shylaff*

so with all those away.

let's talk about language.
or rather numbers...
something i was pondering about late last night.

*now that is a lie since i slept really early, due to a mad shoot schedule*

in english,
we have,
one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,
eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.
twenty one.

in français,
you have the,
un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix,
onze, douze, treize, quatorze, quinze, seize, dix-sept, dix-huit, dix-neuf, vingt.
vingt et un.

in malay,
we have,
satu, dua, tiga, empat, lima, enam, tujuh, lapan, sembilan, sepuluh.
sebelas, duabelas, tigabelas, empatbelas, limabelas, enambelas, tujuhbelas, lapanbelas, sembilanbelas, duapuluh.
duapuluh satu.

hope that makes the point...
*doesn't apply in chinese and japanese tho*

basically what i am writing is that,
1 - 10 are the basics.
20 - infinity are just numbers.
but 11 - 19, they are specials.

why?

those numbers, they never repeat.
you don't find them in any other numbers (age sense & pronunciation wise).

you can be 21, 34, 55, 89 (these are fibonacci numbers), and you'll never have that teen again.
(unless you are hundred and thirteen etc...)

that's why it's so special being a teenager.
and dang. i missed being a bloody teenager!

and it goes like... from 0 - 10 years of age, you learn the basics in life.
11 - 19 you discover new things, new elements.
when you get into your twenties, life becomes monotonous.

its sad but rather true. right?
how they numbered the age and life aspect.

tho we make our own path. we make it interesting.
no wonder women never reveal their real age.
that makes one boring. hehe.


amazingly i have no idea what i am writing.
if it makes sense...
and that i have lost the ability to scribble something fascinating.
maybe... it wasn't to begin with.
double dang!
i need witty backs!

and yiks. i remember what i wanted to rant. part of it.
a small part... really.

some blogs out there now are so pathetically BORING!
hence i had the urge to write back. to entertain myself.
viola~

the return of the little prince

i have major issues to rant.
and rant them i will.
but first lets do a test drive on the colour schemes.

test. test. test. test test.
seems good.