Paperbag

Living in the moment

I think some part in the world, someone thought of a brand new idea for some tiny part of a plane because apparently, today's all about 'letting go of the plane'. 

Just finished 3 and a half seasons of Friends, the first season of Gossip Girl and two seasons of Sex and the City. I've forgotten how much I love the days of staying home alone, eating on instant food while bathing wasn't an option. 

It's not even on the list. 

Back to the basics

Tuning in with Jay Chou. 

I ought to get more sleep, as much as I can, since I have a crazy schedule ahead. It's tuesday lunch with Faheem and girls' night with AL. Wednesday is my rest day while the night shall be 1..2..Steve Aoki. I will have round 2 of work from Thursday to Sunday, with Vertigo on Friday night and Cai Ling's visit. 

Right. Tuesday at four in the morning with the greatest chinese childhood singer playing. 

I think sorrow is contagious. With one simple song produced can lead to a conversation of old stories, that will create that sort of feeling filled with regret mix with a hint of sadness, which will eventually end up with the worst ending: Loneliness. 

I would write more. But that's the whole point of being left alone isn't it? No one can understand.

Anger holds what's beneath

Which some of you will never understand. Or know, to begin with. 

Some people ask why I'm always annoyed with my sister. I don't tell people. For one, it's none of their fucking business of cliche curiosity. And I don't rant just to hear a side of defense. I like typing away, playing the greatest conversations in my head, for inspiration. 

Oh right. Back to why. Other than the fact that she's a shallow idiot underneath her pretty face, I hate her guts. 

I think the only things that tie us together until this very day are the things her beauty benefits me, my transport and the fact (which I hate but applies to everything) that we're family. 

The thing is, you fucking assholes don't understand, is that my sister's beauty is deceptive. People tend to ignore the things they usually don't just because she has better proportional looking features. And maybe due to the fact that you guys don't given know any fucking thing about her, so it's nice that you see the better side of her. 

And I don't know why, even with every single drama that has happened throughout their entire high school lives, people still choose to believe better looking people. I mean, God is fair. The uglier you are, the prettier your heart is. Or your boob size. Height, maybe.

Attractiveness is always exactly directly perpendicular to the depth of your fall to hell. 

It's not that I'm jealous, I'm not. I wished though, so I can finally understand what the whole jealousy fuss is all about. But there is absolutely nothing else to talk about Nicole other than her being the flower pot. Maybe just one, her obsessiveness of being under-weight. 

That's not the reason why the rant ends here. It's because she just left the house. So my annoyance of her lousy taste in bad music, her continuous lies that she knows I know she's telling and just the look of her wearing that skirt is gone. 

Good for me. 

YO18

You're only eighteen. 

It's pretty much the best and only reason/ excuse to use, so you can try all the kind of crap in life without regretting anything. Because that's just it, the rule. 

Everyone should do anything, even if it includes screwing up, anything can be done. As long as it's before turning 21. It leaves you with a perfect 3 years to complete and master those you aim, as after that, when you're officially an adult, it's time to create your identity. No one remembers your failures once you accomplish better. 

Which is why it brings us to the important phase of being 23. Because by then, you're clearly labelled. And you're pretty much screwed, since you have to stick to it until the day you die. Or when you realise that money, power and love isn't as important as 'You Only Live Once'. 

Here are the (not-nearly-)eighteen things to do on my 18th birthday: 

1. Finish a KFC chicken bucket. 

2. Stay awake for 24 hours. 

3. Take a polaroid picture for each hour, making the same expression but of course, different captions, since I'll be doing different things then. 

4. Down 18 shots straight and probably with my dad, if that's cool. 

5. Make out with a stranger for 18 seconds pretty slutty, i know, but it was either that, or kiss 18 different guys. 

6.