16.01.04; Yellowing Yesterday; 15:26


This week’s god/s: Salted fries and chocolates. No. of fulfilled personal assignments for January: 1 out of 4. This year’s first ‘take-home’: A La Coeur de France saucer. Joke of the Week: Two non-communicating persons finally communicated through non-verbal cues.  No. of fellow GIRLTalkers AND Rice Bowlers: 2. No. of movie dates with GIRLTalkers this week: 2. No. of evening dates this week: 1. No. of candles burned for family and friends this week: 10. No. of fresh, NEW prospects: 0.


Dear Niwee,


The cranium knows better. Why does one’s heart have to compete for supremacy? Why is it too oblivious to the warnings the outer world has selflessly provided? And inspite of the insults it has acquired, how come the heart has the strength to continue the climb to the mountain of uncertainty? If it were my heart, I would absolutely take heed to the echoing command of my cranium.


If misery needs company, then I need misery. A dose of piercing pain that would shoot up to my hair. Air of rejection to suffocate me. A mass of intimidation above my lifeless body. A lyrical tune performed by a masochist until my ears bleed. A white wave of mockery to wash me away to foreign, unwelcoming shores. Anything that would make me bawl hard I’ll take it. Anything.