This day, 20-something years ago...

You know, when I was a kid.....I can't wait to grow older and become an adult. Now that I'm an adult..............this shit sucks ass man.

No, no "Happy Birthdays" bitches. Ain't nothing happy about growing old. Tomorrow after sending in my assignments, I'm gonna go out and get my first anti-aging cream. And more black eyeliners considering that I'm so fucking emo now. After that I will go out and live my life fully cause my days are numbered. The thing is......I would probably kill myself when I hit 30. So now is the time to live out loud.

Le sigh.

So enjoy your day. I'm gonna go sit in a secluded, dark corner of a coffee shop somewhere and reminisce of days gone by while sipping black coffee with tears trickling down my face. Then I will go to a museum and absorb the culture and art that Australia have to offer. Cause even while being emo, I still have an artsy-fartsy-pretentious-snob reputation to maintain. And what's better then the richness of art on the very day that I am being reminded…..once again, of my fleeting youth and ultimately; my mortality?

It’ll be like a scene from a Godard movie. Only you know…..not French.

And then come Friday, when all my friends have finished their exams and send in their assignments, we’re gonna take a one hour drive to the best strip club in the state and have a stripper give me a lapdance. Cause you see, lapdances are one of the things old people like me could enjoy.

So suck on that, younger people who are reading this blog. Suck on that.

Being an aspiring journo sucks donkey balls

Holy fuck.

 

 

 

I am freaking out like a mofo.

 

 

I have a 4000 words essay AND a 1000 words essay due on next Monday- on my fucking birthday and I am only starting on both now.

 

 

 

The 4000 words one is on the analysis of Australian periodicals spanning from the 18^th century to present. I had to find copies of 18^th century newspapers and then spent 5 hours studying it cause I can’t take such precious documents out of the library. Also this assignment carries 50% off my overall mark. 50%!!!

 

 

Shitting bricks yo. Shitting bricks.

 

 

And the 1000 one is on the significance of critical journalistic reviews to myriad forms of media (films, books, music etc) and its effect on the public.

 

 

My brain is going to motherfucking implode man.

 

 

No posts most probably until after my birthday.

 

 

Till then…enjoy your assignment-free lives…..

 

 

You bastards.

 

 

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the library.....

So I bumped into him the other day.


By him, I mean him who broke my heart into a thousand pieces, ran a tank over it and then blew up the pieces using a liquid nitrogen bomb so that when I thought the scar have healed…the radiology after-effects acts up and I realize that I have never truly healed afterall.


My heart is like Chernobyl now thanks to him.

Okay.

Fine.

That was too dramatic even for me.

Mah bad.


Following my last post regarding Geek Boy, I did what I said I would do. I called him one hour before our date and cancelled it. Originally I wanted to say that I got held up in uni cause I fell down a set of stairs and I’ve broken my leg and couldn’t possibly be able to meet up with him on time. Broken leg and all. But I didn’t. What I said was: “Apparently I made other plans and I didn’t realize it until now. Guess I can't make it today.”



Which is all kinds of mean.



The cycle of hurt goes on.



I’m sure you’d agree with me.



So it was Thursday evening- last week, not today- and I was in the library. Skulking round the bookshelves searching for a research book that I need for my assignment….and I couldn’t seem to find it. I decided to find a librarian to help me out with it. I was making my way across the library foyer towards the Help desk when a friend of mine shouted my name. It was this dude I know from class so I ended up having a bit of chat with him when I felt somebody was looking at me. I turn around and of course, it was Geek Boy. At the Help desk. He wasn’t looking at me of course when I turn my head. But it was him.



It was his stupid hair. His stupid shirt. And his stupid red sneakers that I chose for him. He wanted the green ones, but I made him get the red ones. Back in the day you know.



The first thing that came to my mind was “Be cool CD. BE COOL. You can handle this.” and the second one was “THANK GOD I LOOK SUPER CUTE TODAY!!” Which I totally did you guys. I was wearing this short pinafore and it kinda look like this:

Minus the beret.

But waaaaay cuter. Cause we’re talking bout me here.

Thank you Universe for letting me look cute when bumped into my semi-ex or Asshole-who-played-me-like-the-fool-that-I-was. Thank you for small victories such as this.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you.

So I carried on talking to my friend, acting all blasé. Cause shit like this doesn’t faze me. Cause I’m too cool for school. Cause I’m so cool, I make Antarctica looks hot baaayybeeee. 

...............But inside I was freaking out like crazy. What if he throws a scene here? What if he comes over and talk to me? What would I say? What would I do? Talk civilly? Be cool? Cry? Beat him up with a giant copy of encyclopaedia Britannica? What? WHHHAAAAAAT?!!

He was still at the counter when my friend left. I have the option to stand behind him in the queue and act like civilized adults....OR run up to the second floor of the library and hide behind the bookshelves. I chose the later.

Cause I’m cool. And totally mature like that.

So that’s how I spent last Thursday night. Hiding behind bookshelves. And dealing with feelings I thought I have killed. Also, to add icing to the cake....today is his birthday. I just realized that like 2 mins ago as I was typing this........................................................................

FML.

An imaginary conversation with you lot

If you guys are wondering somewhere along these lines:

“The fuck is this woman blogging so much?”

Then the answer is:

“This woman have a 2000 words paper due on Friday at 4pm and she have just done 1,300 therefore have another 700 words left but yet procrastinating like a mofo.”

If you are then led to wonder:

“Hhhhmmm what is this assignment about?”

Not plagiarizing.

Well then I have to answer:

“Journalists have been known to be jailed under the charge of disobedience contempt in court for refusing to reveal their sources. Should journalists be protected from revealing sources in the court of law? Discuss the merits of both sides of the argument. (2000 words, no more then 2,500)

Of which then I have to ask:

“Show me the mofo who could write up till 2,500 and I will beat the living shit out of that sonofabitch!”

Perhaps that last one wasn't quite a question but in point of fact; a statement. The sentiment however, was conveyed stupendously.

The End

12

My dear Rebellious Wolf,

Some friendships end up in flames.

Some friendships last all through high school, never to be spoken of again.

Some friendships go on for a lifetime.

I hope ours is the last one.

I love you. How could I not when we have known each other for ages now? With you I am that eternal tomboy who chases after poor little cats in the school canteen. With you, I am eternally that girl obsessing with Scary Spice.

With you, I am eternally 12.

Things happen in life. Everyone that we encounter in life is there to teach us a lesson. No matter how fucked up it is, but it is there. It’s just whether we realise it at that time or not. The lesson could be learned within one day or maybe 10 years from now but there is a lesson there. It’s just difficult for you to see now.

I’m sorry that this is happening to you now. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more then writing a crappy blog post. I’m sorry that I’m not down in Malaysia now cause if I am, I would have whooped them bitches up for you. But then again, you probably wouldn’t want me to.

But I would. Cause confrontations are my forte……just like forgiveness is yours.

Take the classy way out. Keep your head held up high. Be strong. Remember the good times of the last 5 years and let go of the people they’ve become. They don’t deserve you in their lives. They don’t deserve you cause they do not want to see what a lovely, talented, sweet, dependable, awesome person you are. They do not want to see because they’re too consumed with envy. Envy clouds the mind and heart. And lose them a friend.

So yes, take the classy way out. Cut your loses and walk away. They don’t deserve you. Perhaps they did a long time ago….but not anymore.

And remember next year I’ll see you here. We’ll be 12 again. We’ll be back at the age that is void of troubles and envy and perpetual jealousy. When life was much simpler and everything was straight forward. We’ll be 12 again, you and I.

Only this time around we’ll do it in Australia.

Hanya untuk mu Nixa. Kekasih lama dari zaman muda-muda kita dulu. First love dowh! Tak der lah jantan lain sebelum jantan-jantan ni. Hahaha! Here's to childhood memories that could never be replaced. And of friendship that could last a lifetime if we both work at it. And for motorboats that will never run out of fuel. Ahem.

And the emo-ness goes on..

This post was written in response to this.

************

I’ve started this blog as a class assignment. It involved into something more.

I am no longer blogging for me. I am blogging for you.

Your validation means a lot to me. It’s like a drug I cannot quit. As an aspiring writer, I am thirsty for validations. Validations from faceless strangers to tell me “Yes, CD, you’re good.” “Yes CD, you’re entertaining.” “Yes CD, you might just have what it takes to not end up living in a box of this whole journalism thing that you are doing.”

But here’s the thing…I write cause I want to. I write cause I like it. I write for me and not for your validations. I have forgotten that somewhere along the way.

With that, blog commenting is now completely disable. Dramatic Musings will stay…sans the comment box.

Read. Enjoy. Hate. Judge.

You have the option to email me….but would you really?

Meh

My birthday is in 16 days.

16 more days till I become old.

16 more days till youth is just a passing memory.

16 more days to realize that despite being old like a motherfucker; I have not achieved anything spectacular in all this time.

Invisible

I have not cured cancer. I have not won Olympic medals. I have not have hot kinky sex with Hugh Dancy. I have not scaled the tallest building in the world. I have not fallen head over heels in love. I have not have the balls to admit to people around me that I am a feminist. I have not rallied against oppression. I have not fought for freedom for POWs. I have not done so many things.

The last 20 something years have been a waste. A waste. 

16 more days to go and chances are I am not going to change the world in any way.

Fuck this. I'm depressed.

No more post till I'm over being depressed. Or until I get some Prozacs.