UGLY, THINGS ARE GOING TO GET UGLY

i do not want to hang my dirty linen out for everyone to see. so i didn't tell. but truthfully, i wasn't close. what right do i have to mourn, my head contradicts so many this and thats one time my chest feels like bursting the next second it doesn't. see, i have no idea what i'm doing.

thus dont say it out dont say it out dont say it out Joyce
cause you dont remember you dont remember you dont remember anything
you dont remember much
you're so fake you're so fake you're so fake
i wonder what's in your mind
only programmes on how to react is it.
you're beyond help.

hi my name's minus 13, what bout you?

hi
i'm sick of the previous entry, makes me sound as though i've gone mad. but indeed, i might just enroll myself into an institute for counsel for my head's all fuzzy and i dont know how to control being a robot anymore. i need to reprogramme.

like whatever

LOL, when i was logging out after emailing hisyam
i saw this "Are you losing a love? - Understand human behavior to turn it around"
basket, LOLLLLLLLLLLLL

choices, your choices

He couldn't wait any longer.
...or was it he didn't want to wait any longer?

couldn't and didn't make such huge differences
and so many hidden words inbetween these two.

alas, i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you doesn't work anymore.

mourning is tiring.

JUNE 23

It was a beautiful day today.
He chose a beautiful day to pass away.

Nothing out of the extraordinary,
the occasional sound of cars and lorries

I thought of visiting him today
I knew I wouldn't

The Windows Media Player did not appeal to me today though.
The songs were annoying and they seemed too long.

The news came just like that, I dont think I'm in shock.
I dont know.

And sentences which are incomplete should not end with a full stop

robot humans

life is beautiful > shiver through my nerves. says:
why are you bored
red dresses on top of cliffs says:
i already know how i'm going to react.
life is beautiful > shiver through my nerves. says:
?
life is beautiful > shiver through my nerves. says:
what do you mean lol

ah, it's like predicting your moves already.
you're going to stare if they irritate you.
you're going to wake up thinking stupid.
you're going to write nonsense again.
you're going to sprout out something incredible once in a blue moon.
you're going to type and churn out something on spot.
you're going to eat this and that.
you're going to die.

yes, just like a robot. how true, hui.

bored zzzz

i'm so bored of being Joyce, are you bored of yours?
truth be told, i dont know. i dont know if i'm truly bored being Joyce. sometimes i like being Joyce, when she's not all clammed up and going to burst. i feel like typing randomly on a typewriter, hearing its tic-tacs and watching plain white paper turning out like this:

2132faganiet3qifneioaefni4qgrmot4topgniroasu549
#@(o)nfe)r_fneoMOASETGNAOPEJRWPEFGJOPERTJ40PAJ0EGNOVPER

i should start trying cigars, maybe my brain will turn out more damaged and dead and maybe fogged with unrinsable smoke/soot/charcoal.

copyright nonsense.

i imagine someone not knowing what to write to me in front of the computer and i laugh. because i'm having the same symptoms now, my communication skills are on a breakdown. afterall, we're all supposed to be robots, knowing the right stuff to ask, knowing to correct words to say. we ought to know how to please, how to smile at right times. we know how to tease, how to flirt just to get a little something extra. how complicated the human mind works, how efficiently and effectively it applies to the body. how differently your soul reacts is just another concept, almost ignorable and neglectable. afterall there's no need for emotions and feelings. we're all just robots.

"they're just robots" - quote hui.

sheesh

i hate the word hope.
it's a useless word anyway.
and being useless is not encouraging at all.

hi

hi, have you met death's friend - torture (torment)?

death met love by a bed.
she was smiling whilst death watched.
so death played a trick, her favourite mis-chief.

i'm all over the place

the depths of the heart is bottomless
while the widths of the mind is complicated and haywired.

the many ways one communicates in love.
without your hands, you have your lips
without your eyes, you have your hands
without your lips, you have your hands

inspired by the word "hellsing"

let hell sing its melody of cries and screams
an open welcome to its new age queen
an era begins, a quiet tease for eons and eons
let blood trickle, let blood drip
there's no rush for pain, pride and plague
blood, gore and honour, bid my wish.

the battle between hounds and werecats
the queen wishes to sleep somemore
so bring your fight somewhere else
make a mess, bless the crowd

hounds, blood; gore and honour, drink my blood.

how dirty the body works

blood waited for her orders
while gore watched her every move
honour turned away for he was never one to beg for his master's love
but in fact, fay loved him the most
his stride was one of stature, she would have loved to cuddle
however the others would be jealous so she refrained much from doing so
so honour was mistaken, he would have liked his master's love

blogger ate my work. this is what i could remember of it.

let me have you he said
she didn't know what to think
she didn't know what to say
all she knew she had his attention it felt good to be important and top of the world but you see this wont last my dear
screams infinity
so she was numb, so she needed a friend
so she needed comfort, so she needed assurance
it didn't matter who she was
as long as she could get a little attention
she breathed she wanted more a little more
till she was completely numb to shun away pain

script trigger

i imagine myself saying to an eighteen year old boy, "would it help if i adopted you now?"

imagine what he would say
"it would be like a whole new life again"
"i've lost my childhood, would this be any different"
"i dont want to be adopted, i want to marry you"

my scripts are turning crazy. i ought to sleep

hate

she loved little miss red
a naive little girl to sit by the stands to wait
she wanted love to come away with her
to join in the fun of shouting away

plastic

search for me amongst the factory of toys, you might find me there. all plastic and ready make to serve your biddings.

brainsss. eat my brainsss.

sorry, i'm too busy gorging hearts out and eating flesh to entertain you with my brainsss.

fay met her first hound while she threaded the hill of death.
fay met her second hound as she swam amongst the massacre of war.
lastly, fay met her third hound by the old oak tree.
blood, gore, honour, they worshipped her like a god.

why have children, when they are not to be manipulated and controlled?
isn't that what everyone wants, a miniature them, to fulfill unfinished goals and dreams. like all villians, they want to take over the world, do their bidding, my master. that's right, make them fulfill your dreams, your everything. go ahead, make everyone miserable.

come play with me, blood gore and honour

and blood shall start to shatter like broken pieces of clay
and how air freezes in mid-breath
when beasts start to come out and play.