Our Very Own Jabba!

LET’S PLAY SPOT THE DIFFERENCE :]

it’s sickening how some people can be so conceited and so full of themselves and their capabilities. to the extent of daring to claim credit for work they haven’t done.

“cher i don’t know ah.. i try my best already.”

come the fuck on. you did ONE FUCKING SLIDE.

today was exemplary. the awesome part is that when instances such as these are spotted and critiqued, this certain someone still has the fucking audacity to deny it and pretend nothing happened.

this is what has become of the world. in such a competitive society such as the one we have here, bitches climb and step over our heads to what they think it’s the top. pathetic. like i said, it’s sad, really.

not to mention annoying. annoying as FUCK. really. i swear to god, there’s almost nothing worse.

rabitah just said she has BAD BREATH too. HAHAHAHAA. and that she SPITS.

anyway, back to the topic. it’s infuckingcredible how disgusting people like *ahem are. taking advantage of other people’s soft side. like *ahem took advantage of poor joanne yesterday. the sweet girl did the whole ppt and said, “everybody just take one slide okay? we only got five.” and miss boss did the last two, leaving the darling nothing to say.

and then? during the round of question? she didn’t know shit, and therefore came up with a fucking zilch to help. after moi came up with the answers to one of the questions during our discussion, she claimed credit for it.

how.. words fail me. now you know how bad she is.

it comes to a point now that the whole class has a common enemy. why she chose to be part of my team, filled with her most ardent “fans”, i do not know. i would attribute it to her 2-inch-thick skin, but then the approximation may be off. maybe, she in defuckingnial.

like another person i know.

sighs.

***

by the way, it was funny how laura, sandhya and i amused ourselves bitching about her yesterday. shame it’s the last fucking day of school now.

***

and i miss boy. <3 ice-cream and movies later darling.

can’t wait.

my heart’s on fire

i’m talking to lizziee. say hello liz.

she said hi. -beams-

had a long talk with my parents after i came home. i’d like to make a public apology for how i have wronged them. and i told them so. i’m proud of myself.

they told me once, before school even started, that they couldn’t really afford me repeating any of my years. i knew that, and i made a mess of my first. i’m honestly ashamed of myself. i offered apologies, but what would that change?

nothing.

i suppose i’ve come to a point in my life where i should seriously consider growing up. but i don’t know, i like the feeling i get, or all youngsters get, being invincible. being ready to do just about anything, and having the power to do it.

but the repercussions, i don’t think i’m ready to deal with.

when i was walking home from the bus stop tonight, i saw the uncle from the coffeeshop who sold me and bi beer.

apparently, he’s been fired. for selling beer to us underagers. you have no idea how i felt when he said i’m not working here anymore, but please don’t think of what happened anymore. it’s really okayy, don’t worry about me.

not that he was trying to put me on a guilt trip anything, but his words made me think of how bloody SELFISH i am. that i didn’t care about the consequences of getting that beer. for the moment, sarah, i told myself, you did shit that cost someone his job.

i feel smaller than an ant’s feeler.

concludes my uneventful day. ohh did i mention how incorrigible i am. i skipped school again today.

but but but. it was for a good cause. :]

freddy vs jason sucks fart i tell you. if you haven’t watched it, don’t ever. no matter what people like my boyfriend tell you. desire to please is not worth the torture. really. HAHAA. i love my boy. <3

kayy bye i’m off to reevaluate my life.

taken

i’d like the whole world to know that i’m adriel’s and he’s mine.

call me a possessive bitch, but i hate the fact that girls turn to give my boy a second look, regardless of whether or not i’m around.

consideration and sensitivity please.

forgive this random outburst. i just felt like typing that, even knowing there’s nothing i can do. a pathetic attempt at making myself feel better knowing i’ve tried.

_|_ ahh. i’m sorry. i was just thinking about it.

i love my friends.

even though AHEM doesn’t reply my tags. she’s still my darling scandal.
even though AHEM doesn’t talk to me in msn no more and will probably never keep our lunch date, i still love my ger.
even though AHEM is depressed with the loss of his gf and doesn’t want to associate with females anymore, i still love my KOR.
even though AHEM is banned from seeing me anymore, she still loves me and i love my fav bisexual too.
even though AHEM doesn’t care anymore, i still miss and love my fellamo.
even though AHEM and i haven’t met in 123764052436529873 years, i still love my bestie.

i could go on forever. i’m really a lucky lucky girl.

of course, i didn’t forget you my schmelly baby. darling’s the cutest when he sings, seriously kayy his voice melts me to an orgasm. love love love my hun. lil shakespeare.

MINE. i don’t like sharing.

go the fuck away, those who don’t love me and i don’t love, and who don’t love me but love my boyfr. GO AWAY. don’t like you.

humph.

cramps are a bitch, i can she why she blogs about them all the time, i thought i was going to DIE.

by the way, i scammed sheri into thinking that zoe tay died in a carcrash and that it was published in the papers and all, and she believed me. i never knew i was so convincing.

and i don’t understand why the world hates britney. i love her. I LOVE BRITNEY SPEARS AND I’M NOT ASHAMED TO SAY IT. i think she’s amazing. her voice is the sex, and that she’s just been through a hell of a circus, that all. it’s unfair that people are being mean to her just cos she’s gotten a bit chubbier. i mean the woman’s losing her kids, for fuck’s sake. how bout a little sympathy, if not empathy.

it could have been you, you know.

on to another random piece of info, i want to dye my hair the colour of haley williams’. i think it’s imbaly hot, and her voice is incredifuckingble. not that dying my hair the same colour as hers will make me sing better. I KNOW THAT. besides, it’s not as if i have a horrible singing voice anyway.

LOOK AT HER.

hot or what. by the way, we have the same smile. see.

whatever.

ohh and my 33-year-old uncle’s girlfriend added me on facebook. i think she’s damn cute. and fucking funny. i remember asking her if she believe in heaven and hell, and did she think she’d go to heaven when she dies? she said.

i don’t care.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAA. ME TOO. :]

then i told her we were soulmates. or at least be dancing partners in hell. and then i took it back after a thought and told her, nahh, my boy will probably be there too. hahahahahahaa.

face it, everybody’s fucked. we’re all going to die, then burn.

i’m going to stop blogging because i suddenly lost interest in telling my few ardent fans what i think about whatever because i plain don’t feel like it. LOR.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA okayy shut up sarah.

Cakes and Coffee

while the world seems to turn it’s back on you
i’ll be here baby, i’ll remain true
in my hands cakes and coffee
i’ll be right here, armed with a story

about when you ask the how, the when, and the who
i’ll be right beside you if you want me to
in my hands cakes and coffee
i want you to know you’re all you need to be

if you ever have a horrible day
baby i’m only a phone call away
in my hands cakes and coffee
hoping with everything you’ll turn to me

and when you decide that you’ve had enough
when you finally realise no one’s that tough
in my my hands cake and coffee
cos nothing is sweeter than an old fashioned love story

*original

icebox

leave the past in the past
gotta let it go
you gotta know when to move on
you gotta go when to let go

too bad. we live in a society that chooses to remember.

still, when you think about it, it’s not like remembering deters us from doing stuff we’re not supposed to do. war, fights, disputes. and the lessser of the evils, as some of you may see it. spats, gossiping, backstabbing your own best friend.

not much of a big deal when you think about it, really. people choose to remember what they want to. remembering the fight, rather than the hurt. the bomb rather than the compensation. talk about selective amnesia.

mmhmm.

when it comes down to it, every fucking person is only concerned in covering his own ass.

not clear enough? put it this way, when you’re in the front line of combat in a war, you don’t form friendships, but alliances.

how sad is that. not very, actually. not if you get out of the whole shebang it’s not. however, if you get shot because your compatriot was talking to someone else when supposing to take care of your butt, you’ll be thinking in your dying moments “that son of a bitch was supposed to be behind me, that bastard. where’s the help when you fucking need it!”, definitely not “oh my god, thank god he’s alive!”.

yeahh that’s how cruel we are. which is why it’s ironic how people people elevate themselves. i say, just deal with it. you’re as dirty as anyone of us.

and you were saying?

truly a day of ups and downs, huh. you have no fucking idea.

fuck all the relf-righteous bastards and bitches in school who think they’re better than anyone else. always looking at us with their pierced noses in the air, fingers manicured and condemning, taking away our confidence, beating us up emotionally and leaving us scared, looking all dignified.

fuck my facilitators, and all the other teachers i’ve had, kissing ass just in case they get reported, never giving a true fuck about us, the next generation taking over. all they want if for us to graduate and get us outta of their hair, leaving the money in their hands. tax payers money motherfuckers.

fuck all the foreign workers in our country, taking up space on our fucking land and stealing food off our tables. always taking, never giving back. the banglahs, the caucasians, the koreans, and whoever the fuck else, smiling and huddling together on the grass patches of a wasteland scattered in this god-forfuckingsaken place.

fuck the government cheating it’s own citizens from the tax we pay. honest working people who work themselves to the grind to provide ourselves and families with just the basic necessities. where are all the promises? the success? there’s always a minority uncared for, those that need the help they don’t get, never do and never will. fucking bitches we trust with our futures, a big fuck you to society and it’s morals and principals that don’t fucking exist or matter anymore in this day, age and generation.

fuck this country, the skyscrapers, lavish buildings and whatnot. as if flaunting their fucking ability to to suit the times. law firms, companies, insurance buildings, all huge and impressive. yeah built with money you earn by cheating hard workers in this fucking country you call home. what different are they from common criminals. i don’t know, you fucking tell me.

fuck the society we’re brought up in, pointing fingers and talking in hushed whispers, still fucking loud enough to hear and hurt. in this fucked up country where everything and everyone that’s fucking different is a stigma. oh he dresses weird, she smoke, he drinks, she fucks. what the fucking hell is wrong with you people? sitting on your asses, nothing better to do? light a cigarette and enjoy it. just shut the fuck up because no one worth talking to is listening.

fuck the scene kids fakes, slaves to the trend and motherfucking popularity whores. you wear your hair, clothes and makeup that way cos you think people will they you’re awesome and almighty. yeah keep fucking telling yourself that while i fix the neon sign that says no one fucking does. it makes me sick to the stomach thinking you’re out to get votes for the fucking contest like it’s a beauty pageant, only it’s not, but instead of that, you’re participating in another primal rat’s race. kudos to you for sticking to your false front for this long.

fuck my parents and their anal fucking rules. regulations are a constriction and they’re oh so totally “crampin’ mah style”. but what the fuck ever, cos i seriously doubt you’d say much if i crawled home with a leg fucking snapped backwards.

no sarah. fuck you. you and your disillusionment that’s got you hating and kiling off everyone around you who actually does give half a shit, and wondering who’s staring out of that mirror everyday with blank eyes. you don’t have a fucking soul because you’ve lost it and you’re taking a gamble, trying to win it back. get a fucking life, cos it’s not gonna happen anytime soon, bitch, quit kidding yourself. it’s fucking painful to watch. fuck you sarah. fuck you.

to you

whatever the fuck happens.
i’ll be by you and for you.
even if you push me away, i’ll come crawling back.
i’ll be quiet, and you can pretend i’m not there.
but i’ll be here.

just because.

anything but fair

beer and cops. quarrels in the morning. two scenarios not very nice to wake up to. i’ll spare you the yawn and shall not elaborate.

buuuuuuut, sweetheart was a true sweetheart today.

baby’s place, is truly my candy mountain. it’s honestly my favorite cave in the whole wide world.

the fight was over as soon as i stepped foot into that holy land, and we slept like babies. woke up to the sound of guns. i nearly shit in my pants. ohh yes. i’m not kidding.

turns out that the love of my life installed CS into my laptop whilst i was all a-slumber and was experimenting with ways to kill me, his new favorite target.

my boyfriend is beyond morbid.

anyway, i refused to budge from the concave in the bed that i made for me because it was so comfy. instead, continued to watch him murder me, while i was miraculously revived every time after i was shot, or stabbed, or slashed.

which i have to admit, is fucking cool.

meanwhile, i spotted a packet of crackers which absolutely delighted my soul. i was starving. so while stuffing my face with those, i decided to have fun, act like a CS goddess and made threats.

“later i finish my crackers, i kill you.”

threats which i later realized were empty. explained the way he laughed at me when i said it before.

watched the stupidest movie ever in the history of stupid movies, tenacious d- the pick of destiny, while boy slept on my lap and numbed it. no mind, he moved to the bed later and i joined him for the nap after the movie ended.

cabbed back through the jam and got home just in time for my parents to crucify me.

actually it was worse.

but since this is such a feel-good post, i won’t spoil it.

i had an absolutely wonderful time today, with the boyfriend.
it’s because of you, that i remember to count my blessings.
i’m sorry, for all the trouble and worry i put you through.
but baby, don’t carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.
share the burden with me.. okay?
it’s what i’m here for, really.
not when it’s convenient. not when it’s easy.
weather you need me or not. and if you do or do not trust.
i will be here for you love.
not because you have been for me. not because you love me.
i want to, i need to, i’d love to.
i love you.
not out of obligation. not out of need to, or duty.
because i do.

chapter 7

joie was never one to compromise. especially after she was teased, taunted and laughed at when she was growing up. she learned that people, by nature were hard to please. so, she reasoned, why try?

joie was never pacifying or clingy. she’d dated before, and after being fooled once or twice, she honestly couldn’t be bothered to keep up. guy were just guys. she didn’t need them to survive. she got bored quickly, and so did the men she dated.

but then out of the blue.. jonas happened. her life revolved around him. so much so that nothing else mattered to her at times. often, in fact.

it was as if every second she was free from studying or from work was reserved for jonas. it didn’t matter what they did, just as long as it was with each other.

nothing he did would make her love him any less.

***

the day kitalie died, was the first time she saw him cry. his blue eyes leaked tears that broke her heart. kitalie was gone, he told her over the phone.

she rushed to his place, and found him on his bed, stroking the spot beside his pillow kitalie chose to sleep every night. he cried, long and hard, his head in his hands. joie said nothing, but kissed him, then began to cry too. kitalie was family.

“your eyes are the same as hers.” he told joie the first time they met.

“whose?” she asked, a tinge of jealousy could be detected in her voice.

he laughed and said, “kitalie! my cat.”

he introduced the two of them soon after they began dating. joie absolutely adored her. kitalie’s eyes were bright green, with a glimmer that never faded as she aged. like emeralds in the dark, they shone regardless of occasion, and conveyed every conceivable expression. jonas would talk to her in that voice, that special one that was only for her. and it was obvious kitalie loved him for it.

“how come i don’t have a special voice?” joie used to tease.

but that was it. no more. jonas would never use that or any other special voice ever again, joie realized with him sobbing uncontrollably on her shoulder. it made her sad.

jonas had lost another companion, another friend. kitalie.. she was special. joie knew no other would ever take her place and fill the void kitalie had left in his heart. it wasn’t as simple as replacing a plate that broke. it was impossible.

as she cried with her face buried in his hair, jonas clung to her fiercely, as if to say “don’t leave me too.. please..”. she understood. and at that moment, there was nothing more joie wanted to do than to assure him that she wouldn’t. ever.

just because

there’s really no reason to be confused.

see, people are like that. a majority live by the rules, those who don’t get discriminated against. sometimes, it’s not even their fault.

breaking the rules be being the minority in itself is already a crime. or maybe, it’s the idea of being different that offends other people.

why?

who the hell knows or cares.

baby’s right. the line between right and wrong is non-existent. who decided what was acceptable and what’s not?

similarly, there’s no right or wrong in a relationship. because it’s not about who gives in first, is it. there’s no but in love. you don’t question why your partner isn’t this way and isn’t that.

i love chocolate.

you love everything about chocolate. the way it’s made, the way it tastes.

i love you.

every part of you.

no exceptions.