In the Zone

Apparently someone is pissed with me, so much so the mystery someone is presently indulging in a bewildering bout of rant-like soliloquay. like one super kao peh cleopetra plagued with a year's dosage of pms. i refuse to go into self-explanation, clear any misunderstanding, or what nots. you dun need to ask(ARSE) me if i'm psychic to sound out that distaste. Credit must however, be given to the effort in dressing the distaste daintily in a civilised manner, that is, to cower behind a screen of ambiguous elusiveness. Smthg like bemoaning the global injustice the world in general, (ahem, which is me) has bestowed upon you in their shameless insensitivity.but i shall be civil & gracious,allow you to holler, rant, rave at me,watever..up to you, anything that helps you channel your angst. I'll even go as far as being your moving target that does not move, so as you can shoot me down with your words. I can very well shut my ears for that matter. hmph.

plain tired, from all the ego-trashing by de mathsy mods. it seems silly to be that disturbed by school, but its horribly weighing me down like one disgusting piece of fat cellulite-ridden lard. i feel like one blardy lup cheong. My mind is morbidly obesed with thoughts. So obesed that its having difficulty in metabolising all that crap. What now? Dream of myself running like one nutcase on a t(d)readmill. to shake off that obesity?! This must be THE absymal low.

Sleep has become a roaring reward for all the sheer attempts in trying to drift to Slumberland, pretty much akin to pia-ing/coercing yourself to do smthg & finally succeeding in it. Supposedly to rejuvenate oneself. seem to have lost the art of getting to sleep. But its note-worthy that this art exercises some perturbing descretion. Well, apparently it reminds me that it is still alive & kicking when it comes to konking off during lessons. Pre-sleeping efforts probably sapped my energy more than what rejuvenation post-sleeping can possible revive.

But..according to Newton's-dunno-which-blardy-law.. says that energy is neither created nor lost. energy cant be sapped. that's scienci-fically incorrect. Getting to sleep then, must be transferring kinetic energy from flipping like one satay on bed, to potential energy, as in lying there like one dead corpse. watever, I'm sprouting science. am i possessed or wat?

At least sleep serves its purpose dutifully--knocking you unconsciousness, sink into a temporal mental stasis, or simply to concuss & lie a few peaceful hours in a comatic state. I'm not trying to gain sympathy here, (i'm sure everyone has their fair share of down times) just in a frail attempt to verbalize the irrational thoughts that are running amok in my mind. oh well, in desperate moments people grab on anything in sight. Some people, apparently, like yours truly, hang onto their blog.

Call it attention deficiency disorder. Despite being in this in the zone-y (ha, britney?!) mood, i noticed a funny grp of squiggly ants clamouring up my can drink.

picture this:

ant1: yo! check this out! its fatty coke! with 7 spoonfuls of sugar! yeah baby..yeah (in austin powers-like manner)

ant2: heh heh..whack me! am i hallucinating?!

ant3: you dodo. we are so getting a sugar high!

ant1: shuddup already you arse-holic ants! move it!

ant2: hee..im so on my way to a big wobbly sugar-coated ass.!

ants (chorusing in some herd instinctive manner)
: we lurve big assesss!!

like what for? They're so going to feel cheated. Dun they realise that its coke light, no sugar, less than one calorie?! Nvm, obviously they dun. Coz ants dun read letters from outside the coke can, nor can they feel the letters using their ant-annae, even if they do learn braille -_- **eyeball stuck to de ceiling** Maybe we are no less myopic than the ants. Do we have any sense where all this, is leading to? probably the saccharine sweetness that we clamour for, may turn out to be like the the mild patronising "sweetness" of coke light. Which is 100% ARTIFICIAL, by the way. quite frankly, THAT is the sobbering truth, denying it doesn't make life a whole lot better, but makes the realisation a whole lot worse. Man, i shant delve into all the philosophical shit. Its totally baseless.

I'm harbouring the delirious desire of something(anything) to teleport me to another place, just for a while. Maybe to the paradise i've conjured in my bubbly airhead in those bouts of foggy day-dreaming. Well, there is some plausible correlation between the grumpiness and the lack of vitamin D. So now i know why, & thereby proclaim that the lack of sun-tanning has turned me into this sobby sour prune of a basketcase. This must be it.