Exactly a year ago, my mother asked me to pray
*click*

S’kali, Boss

The S’kali Blog

I picked at my dry scab from my coral cut in Tioman
And it suddenly split. Tad of pus. More transparent liquid.
I told Daddy. Cos Daddy used to be a diver and he’d know what to do.
Daddy, what’s wrong with it?
Where did you get the cut from?
Cut it on coral in Tioman, there’s pus…
Oh geez, you’d better go see a doctor and get antibiotics.

I want to cry.

Plain Venting

The weekend was a mix of glee and horridness
I’m just tired of alot of things (blog does not partake in new resolutions)
The people i’m close to make things all the more easier to plough through
Other then that, i find myself closing off alot more now
I don’t feel like telling people things anymore. I’m not stupid. I know what to do. Don’t we all know what’s right and wrong for us at this age? I think that last time, i tell people things because i’m going down the wrong path and i hope for them to give me good advice. Now if i do tell, it’s to vent. I don’t need to be told. I know. Everytime they repeat the same lines to me, i just say, “I know. I know.”
And i do know.
It’s just up to me what i want to do.
And because you all know i know, you can’t very well say anything else isn’t it cos the point is already embedded in my head.

One of my editors i’m not close to was really sweet today.
I don’t talk to him much and we liase mostly through email and phone.
I’ve only seen him a few times. But the regularity of calls makes it seem as if you know the person or are friends with them. I don’t know, it’s just weird that way. Maybe i’m just weird that way.

Monday. And as expected, calls were coming in left, right, centre, toppling me upside-down.
But what was unexpected was when he asked me, “Sweetie, are you alright? You don’t sound yourself.”
My heart tightened as i force-squeaked out that i was fine.

I am fine. I AM fine.

I am fine.

I’m doing that thing where the more i repeat it, the more i reassure myself that i AM fine.
Till the words merge and don’t make sense anymore. Like ’sugar’.

Sugar, sugar, sugar sugar sugarsugarsugar. Shuger. Shugershugershugershu gershu gershu. What’s shuger again? Oh right. Sugar.

Fuck man, damn tripping this post.
Talking about tripping…
PassedOutBen said short girls can’t cross roads -_-

“You and Callie ah… cross road can die okay.”
“I know how to cross the roaddddd!”
“And falling down. Walk also can suddenly trip and fall.”

Then the fairies must have been listening cos he tripped, arms-a-flailing and almost fell outside Laundry; and i laughed till my insides hurt.

We were wondering where to go have coffee and being scatterbrained, i walked without deciding on a destination.
“Stop.” He said.
“Hammertime,” she mumbled.
“Where you wanna go ar?… wait. Did you just say ‘hammertime’?!”
“You said ’stop’ wut,” she giggled.
*shakes head* “You’re such a turn off man.”

I usually always wave away putting up pictures that aren’t published cos… most of the time i’m too happy and excited putting up party pictures.

These were taken for this month’s Vida! issue, where i interviewed and shot Camelia, Joe Flizzow (Too Phat) and DJ Gabriel on Camelia’s new album - Mysticam.
About four pictures were published and here are some of the others which weren’t:

I like the one above best (i think) cos Joe’s laughing and the angle is too precious.

And  because i love Laundry and Laundry loves me…

click for larger view

Lainie: “…then again I only wear like six tshirts, and 4 of those are black and look the same :/)…”

When i read that i was thinking,
Actually yeah lor. And one of the remaining two has a huge pussy*cough*cat on it, right? When’s your birthday ar? I’m going to buy you a t-shirt. Seriously.