I'm stuck alone at home all day and feeling hungry all the time. I can't stop feeling stressed even though I'm out of the office for almost a week. Wait a minute, is that a sign of workaholicism? Or I'm just bored out of my skull? Anyway, I also can't get over the fact that I'll be turning older in just a few more days and I'm not ready for that. Not that I'm Madonna and the spotlight's gonna be on how much I've aged but every girl deserves to feel paranoid about how old she gets at each birthday. I'm just channelling my inner drama queen rightfully. Who wouldn't worry about wrinkles and the force of gravity as time goes? I would. Which explains perfectly why I'm freaking out as the clocks ticks away. Not to mention there's nothing really interesting on tv to keep me fully occupied. I did my own laundry today but I pretty much lazed around the whole day, plonked lazily on the red sofa with white tiger print bolsters in my living room. My home sounds so disco. Trust me, its nothing like that. Oh when can I ever stop whining and get my lazy ass to the gym or yoga class? I know! When I learn to drive. Which is not happening too soon. But I'll try my best to make that happen. Then I can get some yoga action going on. And also I won't feel so goddamn lethargic and can keep my own mouth shut.

Fuck my near to non-existent knowledge of webpage HTML. Tried to jazz up my blog template but my skills are fucking limited that I'm gonna throw up all over this site. You're all gonna smell the scrambled eggs that I just had. Weird thing is, it's dinner time here and not breakfast. I know, I have weird cravings sometimes.

There you go. I got that off my chest. Nothing much of what I typed made sense but I don't care. Just needed to blow off some steam.

Closing the door

For those few years that we weren't studying together, I did my best to keep in touch and keep our friendship. But more often than not, I get ignored. Well, it happened with one or two friends anyway. Till this day I wonder if I'm wrong to turn a deaf ear to her stories. Does this make me a cold-hearted beast that my friends would fear if they knew? I have my reservations when she tells me stories of how pitiful her life is. But who could blame me for not believing when she confesses of having leukemia? Confessions which were made casually over a chat on MSN. If it were that serious she could've gave me a ring. I see her still happily posting pictures on Friendster and chatting away on MSN, telling me more stories of her failed relationships, enquiring about my relationship, asking me out for tea and more. What's more baffling is that she supposedly has only a short while more to live, (or so she tells me, but not specifically how much longer) but still has a job. No offence but I wouldn't buy the story that a leukemia patient at a terminal stage would have the ability to drive to work and sit in the office working all day. Now I understand why she told me stories of her being pregnant and went for an abortion when we were teenagers, then telling me later that she wasn't pregnant after all. Maybe she just wanted attention. Just like how she wants it now. She probably needs help. But I don't think I'm able to give it. Forgive me. I need a closure and you're not allowed into my life anymore.

Merdeka spirit thrown down the drain

Where's the level of maturity among our society if we let a fucktard with his foul mouth roam freely on the streets? If he dares to call the main pump of this country's economy as immigrants who don't deserve to belong here, he should be castrated and put silent with his dick stuffed in his piehole. Police reports are already lodged and he still has the balls to step out and speak like a hero owing no apologies, as if there's no one deserving of it.
I am seething mad. I feel like the man in the mask. Think V for Vendetta. If only I had that kind of courage to set things right and show those fucks who's the real boss. We elected you to power, it doesn't mean you can use it against us. Even slicing his tongue in public would not matter now. It's too late to apologize.
I have my able limbs, but I am the minority. I can't go protesting alone on the streets. It's only so typical that people keep silent at things that make them so angry and care only about moving on. Here's me sitting in front of my computer thinking of how it would all be if we skipped this episode. But my insides are boiling. I can only hope for a change so that my future generations don't have to bear with all these crap. I can only hope for a day when my children can call themselves Malaysians without any doubt. No more racial introductions. Just Malaysian. Alas! Here is a perfect example of how we can get rid of such racial hatred but we are not doing anything good to save the day. We are just letting him roam free with his words spilling over to cause more hurt.
Hello. My name is Ashley and I have yellow skin. But I do not know who I really am. Malaysian? You tell me. But only if you can tell yourself that too.