:::::::::::::::::

Well, of course i was sincere when i crafted it.
It's just that the sincerity fell on her ignorance.

::::::::::::::::

Ohhs, why should i?

Maybe it's time to give up and fall back.
cause the jigsaw is screwed and falling out of place.
and maybe it'll be easier from there.

::::::::::::::::

Sweep that aside, i've just came back from Kak Nisa's blog.
I swear she's a clown. I either laugh while reading her blog or chuckle.
and i'm glad the pictures 'still alive in your cellphone'. the shah iskandar's inside.

::::::::::::::::

Once again, i feel so accomplished.
Having replenished my sleep (i woke up awesomely late. 11.30 to be exact), i went about cleaning my room.

I changed my bedsheets.
and i get freaking irritated with syirah.
her clothes is all over the room, her books are all over the place.

on the verge of shouting, i called her saying,
"do you still want your books? I'm going to f**** throw them!"

which i eventually did.
there goes all the textbooks.
after which, i proceeded to cleaning syimir's study table.
and guess what? i found more of syirah's junk!
i also found my Charlotte's Web which she had failed to return to me.
and my Nazi novel which mysteriously disappear. I haven't even finish reading it.

I've also finished reading on duty of care and surprisingly nervous shock without so much as flinging that tort book away or cursing John Cooke.
i went on to LexisNexis (whatever the spelling is) and once again, without so much as a surprise on my side, it failed me.

so here i am now, patiently waiting for shamini to reply me about project meeting. and none of the group members are talking either. we've got a 12 pm deadline on 31st Dec, people! we need an outline already! and we have none.

:::::::::::::::

Oh, how i will kill for these shoes.
Damn nice, yes?

You know what will be nicer?
Black shoes with white stripes.
but since, it's a Chelsea sneakers...

::::::::::::::

i was sitting down, thinking.
i sort of realised, i don't remember much of my childhood.
but when i do, i remember them in fragments
uninvited, they just appear at the forefront of my mind.

and when i do, it's so vivid.
but where's the rest of them?
suppressed at the very back of my mind until i need them?

memories, they're knife.
they will hurt you.

::::::::::::::::::

talking about knife!
i accidentally stir my milo with a butterknife.
i thought it was my spoon, apparently. *talks to syirah, saw something shiny on the tabletop, absentmindedly pick it up and start stirring.*

imagine the look on my face when i wanted to taste my milo and instead of a spoon, i nearly shoved a knife into my mouth? ohh the horror!

syirah; "where's my butter knife!?"
turned and saw me silently laughing holding out the knife for her.
and without washing, i dumped the knife on her bread.

so she had to tell hamdy about it.
and at night, i received an sms saying, "Bagus eh, home econ ajar kau stir milo pakai butterknife?". then he told Ferhan.

how fast news travel.

::::::::::::::::

bila dunia berhenti berputar...

:::::::::::::::

then aidah said;

"shitloads of rotten cells for a brain!"