Happy Father's Day!

Belated, I know. But take pity on me, I don't have internet in the desert. I have to travel to town on a camel -__-
It's a long and arduous journey.

WARNING-NSFW

I have. No words. For this.
I just-

*giggles*

Snapshots (But no pictures. What?)

A few days ago, the HELP Law Society ran a stall selling second-hand items and baked goods to raise money. I - being the loyal student (read: very, very bored with nothing better to do) - helped out. Sorry, I have no pictures to share right now, but instead, have a couple of snapshots:

DAY 1:

“So, all these things here are – how much?”

“One Ringgit.”

“What? Really?!”

“I know.”

“Jeez, might as well buy all these things ourselves and just go home.”

---

“You’ve got some frosting on your face. Lower. Lower. Right. Right. Ri- Oh for God’s sake, hold still.”

“ARGH. You got my shirt dirty!”

---

“Vintage accessories! Cookies! Brownies! Cupcakes! Special offer, buy two cupcakes, take home a law student! We’re smart, we can do homework among other things. What?”

---

“Are you making fun of my accent? Dude, not cool. I don’t even have a British accent!”

---

“Ladies, do we have an offer for you! Spend at least fifteen Ringgit and you can take this young man home with you for free!”

“So I’m the free gift now?”

“Yup.”

“Oh come on. I demand that I be priced for one Ringgit. I’m not that cheap.”

---

“I love shopaholics.”

---

“How about it? Two cupcakes, get this law student for free. Look at how tall he is! He could help you change lightbulbs or something.”

---

“You know, we’d probably make more money if we sold pot brownies instead. But it’d be kinda ironic, being law students and all… Not to mention illegal…”

“Or we could sell beer instead of Coke!”

---

“Wanna buy some cupcakes? We have a special offer right now. Buy two cupcakes, take a law student home with you!”

“What am I going to do with a law student?”

“Do I have to explain it to you? Look, we’re smart. We can do homework. How about this nice young man here?”

“What the hell?! I’m not gay!”

“I’m not saying you are! He’s tall! He can do housework! I didn’t say you had to fuck him, just take him!”

“Why are you so intent on giving me away?”

“Because you won’t let me make fun of your height.”

---

“Ooh, we can stand here with our cigarettes and look bad-ass. Like drug dealers or something. ‘Hey, hey. You wanna buy our stuff? It’s good shit, right here man. All the cool kids are doing it.’”

End of Part 1.

I have a cold. No, it's not an excuse as to why I haven't been updating as often as I should, and now that I think about it, it might not be a cold so much as an allergy or the result of poor sleeping habits and smoke inhalation (it's a wonder I haven't keeled over yet). Either way, I am now the proud owner of red-rimmed eyes and a nose that runs like an Olympic athlete. Every now and then, I go into impressive sneezing fits that leave me reeling and unable to decide between collapsing where I am or running to the nearest box of tissues to mop up my nose.

It's not like I can say I didn't see it coming: the first sniffles started weeks ago while I was revising for my finals, and I tried to ignore them. I was a busy person, after all, I had my exams to worry about, and once those were over I had to go about celebrating both their end and my birthday in style. But did my sinuses care? Oh no. They just clogged up like nobody's business and left me exhausting my supply of Kleenix and eyeing the toilet paper as a substitue when the former ran out (Note to self: buy more tissues, and generic toilet paper is the absolute worst way to go, no matter what you may use it for).

Currently, tissues are scattered around me as a garnish to the clutter in my room (by the by, Gerald McStackerson has been banished to a trolley bag under my bed, where he lives a quiet life of collecting dust and painting watercolours), and because I stubbornly refuse to take any medication unless absolutely necessary, I am trying to cure myself by getting lots of sleep and drinking liquids. Sure, it's easy for me to stick by a somewhat natural approach to sickness when I'm healthy, but right now all I want to do is shovel pills down my throat until my nose stops its impersonation of a faucet and I can get out of bed without wanting to crawl right back under the blanket and hack up a lung.

All right, fine, it's not that bad. It's just a case of the sniffles, not the Swine Flu or the Black Plague. I'm not dying, but I will be hiding out in my bed reading all the books I bought at the Big Bad Wolf book sale, and I was healthy enough to be throughly embarassed last night. Twice. (Thanks everyone. I love you all. Really, I do. Just remember that I know where you all sleep next time you try pull this on me again.)
I'll probably be back to my moody, emo, weird state in a few days. Cause to celebrate? Fuck yeah.

Oh wow. This is awkward...

eh, update the blog lah

been ages

-Ms Zuyin Toon

In light of the fact that my last post was- Holy Crap.

My last post was over a month ago. What the hell have I been doing since then?
Interesting question, that. Here's a summary (in no particular order):

• Mooting Preparation
• Law Ball
• DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA
• Hid away to avoid further drama
• Stayed in hiding to study
• Pushed my body to its limits
• Started Finals
• Turned 21
• Celebrated, kinda
• Started dance classes
• Got screwed over for mooting
• Took too many Facebook Quizes
  
• Learned how to be happy
• Became a little more awesome

So yeah, that's what I've been up to. Not dead, just busy, and I need some time to recover from everything that's been happening. I'm also working on another story, so expect that to be up soon.

Don't worry, I'll be back. Soonish.

nobody but you

nobody can save you but
yourself.
you will be put again and again
into nearly impossible
situations.
they will attempt again and again
through subterfuge, guise and
force
to make you submit, quit and/or die quietly
inside.

nobody can save you but
yourself
and it will be easy enough to fail
so very easily
but don't, don't, don't.
just watch them.
listen to them.
do you want to be like that?
a faceless, mindless, heartless
being?
do you want to experience
death before death?

nobody can save you but
yourself
and you're worth saving.
it's a war not easily won
but if anything is worth winning then
this is it.

think about it.
think about saving your self.

- Charles Bukowski

Antilamentation

Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.
Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.
Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax. Don't bother remembering
any of it. Let's stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.

- Dorianne Laux