Be My Medicine.

Perhaps it was the abrassive conversation that aggravated the injury
- that slight rub which opened wounds, festering uncertainties breeding insecurities.

identity crisis?

: /

jalan alor to jalan kejora?

i will strangle them, flush their heads down the toilet if they dare change it.

jalan alor must forever remain as jalan alor.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FATTY NUMBER 2!

animal instincts.

how disturbing.

hearing loud thuds,
fearing the worse,I look out the window.
who knows,in Melbourne,even at 5 in the evening there may be a bunch of idiot drunkards having a go at each other.

all i see are 3 topless, barefooted boys whacking each other silly with this weird plastic blow up bat thing at the tennis court.
my gosh, and we call ourselves a civilised society.

well, I guess boys will always be boys.

: /

on a happyclappier note,

this is what i wake up to on most mornings (ie. 0630), now that its 25 degrees out on most days.

clearblueskies.

and this is what you see on the eve of the footy finals.

hawks vs. cats (like i know anything about footy)

back to econometrics.