Springbonjo

I am going to get my act together and stop dreaming about my dream phone. The limited gold edition one. Sigh. Getting obsessed because I drink, live, eat the phone. So pretty and shiny. I might as well satisfy my aesthetics need. Get frustrated when you estimate the price tag, your daily expenses and need to wait. Possibility of getting it looks very, very slim, as the phone indeed.

And while I’m on plans, might as well going to quit smoking for some days, because if I am lucky to get an appointment, tomorrow I am going to the polyclinic for the pain caused in my gums at the back of my mouth, possibly a wisdom tooth. Therefore I need to wake up early. If not I’m screwing school, and I can’t.
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Too much feelings, emotions and thoughts clutter your mind and vision. Maybe, I must, let go, and live in the moment.

Seemed like it was only yesterday I was a happy girl when you were in mine. But seemed like forever now, when the emptiness slowly crept in. Inching its way.

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I want coffee. I need sleep.

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I missed all the times we had together, when we all smoked together, ate together, the boys waited for us while we peed together. When Timmy was still in school and made me mad in the mornings because he was late. When we laughed so much. When our clique was huge. When Nana and YY and even irritating Lim were still there. Right back from the start.

Good days those were.

Now I smoke alone, it’s quiet time for me.

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I didn’t go to school today because I haven’t completed my work, the plan to wake up early wasn’t. Needed to go to doctor anyway, so here goes.

Hope tonight’s movie night with Jess would rock. I burned my stove and kettle in the morning. This is because I put the ELECTRICAL kettle on the stove. Then I smelt something burning, and voila, I had a fire. I panicked. Luckily my sister was at home. Thoughts of how I nearly burnt my house down if I went out and left the stove, maybe even burning my grandma since she’s bedridden.

Shiver. I am so not touching the stove anymore.

See what happens why bad girls don’t go to school.

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Angry thoughts, dreary soul. You were so beautiful, but you had to go.