> upload-limit-slap

just when i thot i wuz in the clear, this hadda hit me WHAM in the face:mouthagap, fingersfrozen, mindaputriddirtyBLANK = FCUUUUUUUK!!!! this is a bit too much for me to bare for a night ... tis 1+AM in the morning and im sweating ike a pig-on-a-skewer and this, THIS, THISSS??? ... *urgh-twitch-twitch* ... please dun tell me i gotta go crawling back to yahoo photos? *sigh*just goes to show in

> screw multiply and hello flickr!

fine. screw multiply. having my computer hang everytime i wanna access my pages has finally broken my feeble-online-back. (and we know how sensitive THAT is) = so a wetkissbyebye and a hasty toodle-loo and im outta there! t'was fun while it lasted tho *sigh* ... not that anyone'd miss me there anyways, whatever lah ...until (if ever) thatz sorted out, do drop by my new flickr pages fer a looksee

> they're alive!

oh how the mighty (if ever) clarkequay fleamarket has fallen...China Square Central is the new venue for the now defunct fleamarket, sprouting out from the various toyshops that has moved in and the familiar makeshift stalls/tables that peppers the second floor of the building. somehow the "feeling" is a bit different, seemingly "desperate", tho time will tell ... the walk-in crowd is near

> desire

desires are basically "wants" rather than "needs".i desire/want fame and fortune.i desire/want that *swinetrekplayset*i desire/want a new mobilephone.i desire/want to be respected for my work and craft.i desire/want to be desired by others.i desire/want a good fcuk.but do we really need fame and fortune? toys? a new phone? respect? to be wanted and desired? or anything for that matter? material

> the end of multiply as we knew it

> choices

/people say: "It's all about CHOICES" but i guess in the end, what choice do we even have, if circumstances do not allow you a choice even? and itz not that we choose to feel what we feel, innit? whatever overwhelms you might not be self-chosen, or is it? i suppose we just gotta roll with the punches, as it were ... but they sure as hell hurts nasty, don't they? ... and itz the internal injuries

> da itch begins anew

oh man, gotta show y'all these! finally found them down here in singapore: my must-have-if-got-money-luxury-items!going for $78 per set! urghz... and ...... which i thought would NEVER make it here! *chubbyman-jumping-wif-glee* ... NOT a pretty sight, no.i have both the muppet lab set and swedish kitchen already and i just gotta have these two ... i. am. dead.herez me kitchen-crew in-action! :p:

> buy buy bye

the one thing i enjoy the most and hate about a job is props buying. itz about spending other peeps' money and inevitably spending your own as well. strapped as i am currently now, i could not hold myself back. fcuk. am doing a cheap-assed-short-jobbie now and started scrounging around for props today. and the familiar rush of it all comes back like a tidal wave of colourful dollarbills. first

> in transit

tis 3am on a monday morning and the icedredbull i had in the midafternoon has not wornoff yet and i find myself back here again to do mayhaps to purge some thoughts out of my rapidlydeterioratingmind before i attempt to laydowngosnore (and NOT what these thoughts to EVER appear again before me in perpetual-replay-cycle as all unresolvedthoughts do when i gosnore)sundays are but transit points/

> some.day

10 possibble things most people do on a sunday:01. sleep-in late, making-up for lost sleep during the workweek.02. to read that book you've been dying to read, with no disruptions whatsoever.02. to do nothing at all.03. choosing to do anything ya want to, that has been been deprived-of during the week prior.04. to hunt down and checkout this restaurant you've been hearing off.05. to mingle with

> browned by time

fields of grass once green now browned by nature’s whima sullen silent reflection of our times our woes our growthas sure as nature’s colour palette changes so too doesthe human coil winding twisting unto shapes so divinethey resonate beauty and contort so perversely we canbarely look at it’s mishapened form and yet we do stillas surely as nature changes we mortals too are not sparedthe ravages

> taxi tales version.01

that ever since the advent of mobilephones in singapore, the total number of "lost phones in cabs" total slightly over 10,000 units. imagine that. letz say an average phone would cost around maybe $100? that'll total a million-buckeroos! DAYMN!taxiuncle wuz going on about a fare he had, whereby the dood dropped his phone in cab. and when uncledood picked up his call and expressed the

> the restless

> shout out to friends

in the Life-section of today's newspaper (fcuk! am i THAT bored to be reacting to newspapers? ahahahaha *PUI*) a reporter/writer went on about fairweatherfriends ... about frens who've "abandon" her leaving her high+dry to be with their boyfriends yaddayaddayadda and perhaps voicing out many a peeps feelings. the selfishness is alarming. for both herself and mayhaps others as well, IMHO of cozwhy

> possible conspiracy theories and mediamanipulations

what i saw today compounded my unspoken theory and my previous rant about the ongoingsaga and currenthottopic in singapore = featured on the cover of this week's 8Days mag (tho currently tis not updated, the slackfcuks) is Sly with the cheekytagline "Oh Maia Goodness"! ahahahaha am i missing sumthing here? it might just be a publicitygimick afterALL! damuthafcukers! BWAHAHAHA and they have

> i wonder how i wonder why

and so i've decided to stop blogging on my multiply. simply becoz nobody (okay, maybe "NOT MANY" peeps) give a damn. but then again, why the hell should they? thatz what blogs are for, innit? for peeps to read have a chuckle or two grimace a wee and bugger-off after reading! hahahahaha a new generation-instant-gratification of the mindrape manifesting in all itz anonymous-online-gloryhole! a

> endgame

0337AMrandom piercings made focuseddeflate thy id and abolish egoslippers put outside thy blogdoormake a hotcuppamilo and get comfyhere i'll stay and fester for now~ begin ~

> sunday muse

sitting on hot sunbakedtile-planterboxes watching browned dry leaves tapdancing a little jig with sisterwind traffic speeding by a blur a peace transcends and overcomes meeven the silent buzzing of a lonefly circling my talcumpowederedfeet-wearing green catscratched flipflops dangling on an deceptively awkward but seemingly comfortable crossedlegs irritates me not an iota as i attempt to smight

> sunshine random

random images flash by me technicolourred shaows of passerbys blurring the scope of slurred-vision infrontofme turning black and white grey colourlessthy mood is temperate with a weird tinge of inner peace doused in heavy thickened disappoinyment that i can't get out of my heart. for no expectations are formed inevitably there are and i cide myself for thus. counterattacking with optimism of a

> so what's news?

what is it about singapore that'll garner a 1/2-page spread for the seemingly-salacious gossip/rumour of the pending nuptials of both singapore idolists Sly and Maia? WHAT THE FCUK? dun we have any OTHER news to report on? nothing of greater newsworthiness to print? oh for sure itz all about entertainment on a dulldullsaturday, but c'mon! why can't they be left alone? what, becoz they're "

> s'cuz me, could you point me to...?

amplification of base emotionsthat is how i write. that is how i express my myriad thoughts and emotions. and i have so fcuking much to say to spill to commit verbal-or-online-diarrhoea to exorcise each and every one of them. to be able to let them speak for themselves. where i chose to remain mute.imagine the mind to be a road map. with destinations to fulfil and routes to decide upon. you point

> maybe happiness

maybe i depend on others for my happiness too much. maybe i should seek happiness for myself first before i dare expect or hope that of others. which might as well be a elusive quagmire as how can we receive happiness from nothing? doing something that you're happy with, rather than doing something for others which would make them happy? and in return you would be happy/ier? receive and you will

> a dance for tomorrows

there are no tomorrowstomorrows inevitable never comestho the past remains a concrete slab a pillar of history a factual insistence a spokenfact a memory raw with rage and passiontomorrows are but whispers in the wind intangible writings in the skies a formless moving cloudimage a mirage for the needy and desperatea twisted calendar that never changes taunting you with the slight flip of the next

> the dread of nothingness

a drearydrearyday wif cloudy skies tearful rain trickling still my sunshine has left me and i am heartbroken tho mild not catastrophic but still heartwrenching dramaking i am i light a cigarette and yet another and another and another and i shutmyselfup and the helplessness i feel numbs me not to the nighta dreary day filled wif unrequited sleep and a ringadingding that halted my r.e.m. and did a

> after the rain

random pix after a stick of cigarette after 2 and a half days of abstinencethe tragic but silent beauty of the rain afters.

> is this legit?

Kevin Smith talks about the support he's getting from New Line in a recent interview: "I hired a great A.D. (Assistant Director) and a great 2nd A.D. because the 2nd unit apparently is really important on these movies. It was a big secret. They were like "Kevin, you won't direct everything. You'll have a second unit director who will do a lot of the big action stuff." I said "Get the f**k out of

> destruction

/spiralling down the path of destruction, i feel it simmering within gaining speed and momentum with every twist and turn a giant corkscrewtunnel ninetydegreeangled down to the lavafilled pits of hades a field of rusty spiked poison nineinchnails waiting for me at the bottom and i cover my eyes least im blinded by such hickups and tragedyfulfilmentfantasies and i curse withinmybreath when am i

> thy mistress' name is

Insomnia; Thy Mistress is cruel and wicked. for chaining thine eyelids to thy brow. let not thy mind be silent and restful instead of the non-stop influx-barrageflow of non-thoughts and barren nothingness clouding thy mindscape with a gentle hum of a blind hummingbird flapping whispers into the nightwinds duststorm in a frenzy clouds threatening to rain hard. but they do not.Insomnia; Thy