sense

Burgle aick en stoof.
Burgle aick en stoof.
Cherko maen cherko staan
Woor pe sticky wonty

Burgle aick en bask.
Burgle aick en bask.
Cherko wesh cherko reef
Mer lin Mar vin Menty

Whatawhatawhatawhata
whata squishy monkey
whatawhatawhatawhata
whata fluffy too

A letter for death to deliver

She writes a letter for death to deliver to her loved ones
in the fond hope that it would help destroy any guilt, remorse, regret or disgrace
That it might help reveal to them the person she was in the innermost chambers
of what might well be her soul, of what definitely was her heart as her mind knew it to be.

For she is scared, of dying and leaving behind a sorrow which is burdensome
so much so that it destroys more than what her presence was ever worth.
She is scared of confusion, hatred and love spreading to where they do not belong,
to where they will transform into a deep engulfing shadow, devouring what she left behind.

She wants to be remembered, but she needs them to acknowledge her death and the person she truly was, with the niceness and the not.
She was never an angel on earth, and death mixed with grief from love

often converts one to an angel after.

She would be in peace then, if they truly understood.
The choices she had made, how their love had shaped her, how her tears were not true.
For all her life she has been happy, lucky.
With no regrets

paintbrush doodles.

Victoria's Secret

[This will be the first episode of many to follow in a little series I will be writing (when I feel like) called Victoria's Secret. Do not confuse it with the popular lingerie brand. Nope. This is a serious, gripping, tear-jerking, frightening story about a girl called Victoria.]

(Galloping Horse Sound)* didnt quite know how to make a horse galloping sound. Wait.
Badabap, Badabap, Badabap.

No?

(ok basically there is this galloping horse.)

She carries a sharp gleaming sword.

(Thats how swords should be maintained, such that they gleam. When light falls on them they should look like they're ablaze. Rusty swords aren't any good. They might do the job as well, but what of grandeur, a sense of glory.

She pulled out a rusty sword and inserted it, with considerable effort, into his abdomen.
She pulled out a sharp gleaming sword and neatly sliced his head off.

mm..

you get the idea.)

Anyway, she carries a sharp gleaming sword. Tonight she will have her revenge..

[What is her secret? Stay tuned for more]

Mine

let me put you in a box
carry it in my pocket

...what if i lose it
ill lose you then

then again.
i probably lost you when i put you in a box.

Come to me

(He goes to the tip, looks over, its a long fall. He steps back.)

Wow, that would hurt.

Yes, yes it would.

Splat, and that would be the end of me. The end of my existence
in this world, universe.. as far as it extends to whatever depths.
I would be out of here, forever.

Mm, for all he knows.. yes he would be out of there forever. But
he would never be alone, and what he seeks to escape would never
let him go.

Wow, it would hurt. Maybe death would be instantaneous.
But the drop, while Im falling, I would still be alive. I would still be thinking.

So.

Im such a horrible person, I should jump.
I have hurt her, I have lost her trust and her love.
Ive lost her smile, the smile reserved for me, gone.

Y e s, you deserve to die you bastard. Now just jump.

I spoilt her, what she was before she is no more.
Wow, Im a poet now? Argh, never serious! I dont even know if I truly
feel any more, if I ever truly felt at all. Do I actually care about her, what
I did to her, what she became due to my acts, my ideas, ME.
Id say the same old thing..

You dont know

..I dont know

Ive heard this enough, Im getting impatient. please..

Did I love her?

No, no you didnt. Stop thinking, stop it. stop.

I dont know. I know i never wanted her hurt, I never wanted her to cry,
I never wanted her to wake up unhappy. I wanted her to eat well, to buy her
nice things, to hold and hug her. Protect her.

what..

I failed, I did love her. And she loved me..
She did..

I dont even know where she is now.. I cant find her, and I shouldnt try to.
After that last fight, she left me forever.

I died, thats what.

I hope shes happy wherever she is. Its getting cold..

Thats right.. come to me

Today Morning

I wake up somewhat late. My alarm was ringing from 7 but i got up only by some 8.05am that too cos i realised i want to have a bath. (not that i didnt bathe yesterday. cos i did)

Just felt icky thanks to the moov that id applied on my neck (oh ya my neck is fucked) Then i realise since ive run out of blue soap (detergent soap. clothes soap. whatever you prefer) i must use the brand new bar that ive bought. The "RIN BAR IS NOW SURF EXCEL BAR" bar of soap.

So i pull it out. Its gigantic. And only half would fit my blue soap dappa (the dappa is also blue) So i pull out my sexy swiss army knife to cut it in half. As my roommate put it "its easy Veena". Yes. So i cut. The knife bounces off the surface.

Hmm.. interesting.

So i saw. not like i see i saw.. but like i cut with a saw. I saw with a saw .. saw. The action of sawing. You get it. Hahn, so i saw. Of no use. I barely make a scratch.

Hmm...

So i saw even faster. And i try a bit of drilling, hammering, throwing against a wall.
No use. They should make helmets out of blue soap.

Anyway. So I finally realise its already 8.25 and im getting nowhere. then

TADAHHDADADISH*
BRAIN STORM

I dunk the soap in water. and saw at the same time. from all sides. with great strength
and vigour. Finally by 8.35 it comes apart. And i run to bathe. I miss breakfast. I reach class

The end.

while you were sleeping

introducing my roommate...

drained

.
dry mind and dry eyes
from long dreamless nights
shes fighting her thirst to die
finding ways, fighting time
keeping her life in sight

who does what she does
who knows who cares
so high so high so high
hear her laugh, see her fly
how did she get so high
.

psychogirl II

It has beautiful eyes.
Its quite tiny actually, fits into the palm of her hand.
It listens to her, loves her.
Poke it. poke. poke. poke.

It goes away, she misses it.
the little piece of fluff.
it makes her so happy, she cries
it is her world of one

the urge to eat it up is also quite strong.
gobble.
its quite rare.
and she isnt letting go.

the hoopler.

Victoria's Secret

[This will be the first episode of many to follow in a little series I will be writing (when I feel like) called Victoria's Secret. Do not confuse it with the popular lingerie brand. Nope. This is a serious, gripping, tear-jerking, frightening story about a girl called Victoria.)

(Galloping Horse Sound)* didnt quite know how to make a horse galloping sound. Wait.

Badabap, Badabap, Badabap.

No?

(ok basically there is this galloping horse.)

She carries a sharp gleaming sword.

(Thats how swords should be maintained, such that they gleam. When light falls on them they should look like they're ablaze. Rusty swords aren't any good. They might do the job as well, but what of grandeur, a sense of glory.

She pulled out a rusty sword and inserted it, with considerable effort, into his abdomen.
She pulled out a sharp gleaming sword and neatly sliced his head off.

mm..

you get the idea.)

Anyway, she carries a sharp gleaming sword. Tonight she will have her revenge..

[What is her secret? Stay tuned for more]