天杀的今天我超级累我好像有三天完全没有睡觉了,上课focus不到,上班也打瞌睡,我还有70%的份量所剩20%的时间,怎么办啊!现在我的头超级痛,难得一天的休息我也对着电脑从太阳上山到下山,还一个人用四台电脑,打印机还不够用那种还冲去买多一台回来了继续做,整个累到不行,面对四台电脑的辐射和两台打印机的复印声音我差点跳海,好累啊,房间还堆满了干粮,快点结束现在的日子吧。day4我真的需要睡觉了,明日继续可怕的抗战好肆虐的累。
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Saturday, October 18, 2014
周日
难得今天早起床,家人要打球偏偏肚子痛不能打,啊我的功课又碰壁,啊压力好大,比我的大腿还大!天啊好后悔一直喝咖啡冰结果现在像个老人这样懒洋洋躺着什么也不能擀,美丽的星期天应该要跑跑步打打球跟家人去买东西的说啊啊啊啊啊啊,我却得躺着!好想一把火烧了我的学校啊,老娘可不想留级啊,但是好rush啊,东西好多,我的portfolio啊啊啊,全部该和从着手啊!可以不要考试吗,可以读graphic吗,我好担心未来的路啊,一片溃烂这样啊。
Friday, October 17, 2014
小贴纸
现在的钱真的越来越小,这四包小贴纸就花了我Rm60,啊!找钱的时候还以为找错了,还记得在我小学时这种小贴纸才Rm0.90的说,质量好点的也才Rm2.9(所以我也收了一大盒),结果在大扫除时被妈妈误丢了,到今时今日我都还耿耿于怀,因为我都很用心的在收集的说。爸爸还特地买了贴纸集簿给我收集,我还分类到很多款,什么泡泡绵的,闪款,迪士尼的啊,单元啊,普通款啊,透明款啊,转帖款啊,立体版啊,而且小时候网络没发达时我还有笔友姐姐和我交换很多收集品,还有老师送的啊简直超多的,所以我才没办法释怀哈。我觉得我应该有一种病态,什么都爱收集而且还很海量,最后都被妈妈人道毁灭的说。
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
一点琐事
Monday, October 13, 2014
甜品天秤生日快乐
嘿生日快乐拉kion kion 每一年都给你nua,还准准十二点带你吃KFC cheesy widges
当做你的蛋糕啦,哈噁心扒拉的话不多说啦,就反正以后每年我还是会点亮你人生的,今年比较忙啦考试接近你就体谅我这个小小孩啦,祝你生日快乐,以后的什么事也还是让我替你出气,记得快点考车等你带我吃蛋糕。八年生日快乐!
嘿粿条汤
在新山上课也有近乎两年了,每天啊最喜欢吃的就是这个果条汤了,不知道为什么肉丸子肉片啊都是超好吃很弹,又很新鲜,那个汤也很好喝,大叔给的量是肯定多的,重点是不要猪肝的话,他会主动换云吞还是叉烧之类的,重点真的很好吃,粿条也不会有异味(因为外面吃过的果条都有一种莫名的味道啊啊啊)。重点才Rm4.50,对于我这种苦命学生是很划算的,每次都好担心毕业了就没得吃了,因为特地来到这里吃车油实在吃不消啊!非常的远,虽然我有特地在没上课时来偷光顾。这家店叫大华云吞面,在柔佛古庙对面的小小店面里,独立一间超小一间也没有招牌,陈旭年街嘛,复古怀情的关系所以没招牌吧,嘻嘻。
Sunday, October 12, 2014
2014我回来啦
现在的东西都很片面,加上我都是低调派哈开一个无伤大雅的玩笑,所以基本上在使用着的社交网阿,分享台啊,都是要经过三思才可以分享的,啊啊!就不想赤裸裸的被大家知道太多我的成长忐忑之路啊!话说我就把这里当日记啦,因为发现原来可以通过这里发现好多回忆好多忘记的事情啊!
天啊,原来我的记性也没想象中那么好,为了提防老人痴呆以前,还是做好防范措施可好啊,又或者让自己成为大人物以后这里可以当作小说这样翻卖哈,以后的路加油爱丽丝林!
现在是2.48am我要继续扎头发赶夜车做功课了。
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Began
Happy and creative?
No surely No
Tormented and twisted?
Sure I'll produce.
Destined to play
the tortured artist?
Choosing pain over happiness
to find inspiration?
Did I wish this hell upon myself?
In some twisted way
did my subconscious say
here's some creative drive
to last you the rest of your life?
When life got too much
I used to pull out my pen and paper
Now I tap tap tap
on a laptop
But you can't see the emotion in the words on the screen
My tired journals show tear marked stains
words scribbled out in a downwards spiral down the page
as I try to get the words out in the dark
under the influence, my hand drifts
the lettering is not even
words scribbled out, rewritten and rewritten again
and yet, not considered.
Bled onto the page
These words on the screen seem too perfect
too thought out
lacking the emotion they're meant to portray
You can't see how my pen presses through the page
as I angrily try to work it all out
The lines get heavier, the letters, bigger
Exclamation points and question marks
left right and centre
It just isn't the same
No surely No
Tormented and twisted?
Sure I'll produce.
Destined to play
the tortured artist?
Choosing pain over happiness
to find inspiration?
Did I wish this hell upon myself?
In some twisted way
did my subconscious say
here's some creative drive
to last you the rest of your life?
When life got too much
I used to pull out my pen and paper
Now I tap tap tap
on a laptop
But you can't see the emotion in the words on the screen
My tired journals show tear marked stains
words scribbled out in a downwards spiral down the page
as I try to get the words out in the dark
under the influence, my hand drifts
the lettering is not even
words scribbled out, rewritten and rewritten again
and yet, not considered.
Bled onto the page
These words on the screen seem too perfect
too thought out
lacking the emotion they're meant to portray
You can't see how my pen presses through the page
as I angrily try to work it all out
The lines get heavier, the letters, bigger
Exclamation points and question marks
left right and centre
It just isn't the same
Monday, May 26, 2014
Colorful YOU
So they gave me love in form of poison and tiny little pills, programming my emotions, teaching me how to feel. To act correct and talk correct and answer without knowing the question, because that, my dear, is how you get love. Yes that, dear youth, is how you'll be loved. I tried to medicate my own fucked up little mind with chemicals and adrenaline, tasting sweeter every night, shaking louder every time. Sitting wide awake in bed until the world disappears, writing poetry to concentrate on something real while waiting for the love to arrive.
I've been looking for it night after night, waiting patiently for it to show up, maybe somewhere in between the state of awake and asleep, alive and not so alive, sober and not so sober.
(I lost track of the difference somewhere in between.)”
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