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Q. how much hatred can one person actually store in 18 years?
A. hell loads.

i can never fathom my fascination for glow-in-the-dark stuff. i think its the way they stand out in the darkness that really entices me. seduces me.

life is really one bloody vicious cycle. literally, like drippin with bright red, salty and warm blood. splattered on the wall. why? well. god created 2 kinds of people in the world. one portion irritates the living fuck outta you and the other doesn't. fortunately and/or UNfortunately, this applies to every single living being. yes. the bunch of carbon based creatures that everyone loathes so much. that aside, (i do love em actually. you can't help it can you. its innate.) the vicious cycle goes such that no matter what, you will always be seen as a pest someway or another. that you'd NEVER (don't even bother trying) be universally accepted. and if you did try, well, dont mind if i point and laugh at you right in your face. cuz you're SERIOUSLY pretty half assed.
there are, of course, certain acceptions to this division of the globe. such as in the case of yours truly. where my world is divided into 3, one is the portion of people i'd like to stab in the eye for existing. the other is indifferent and the last is whom i love so bad, they are my purpose for substantiality in life. one cannot be parsimonious with love. once again, its innate isn't it.
well, the splattering part. which is the whole... grotesque and sometimes inevitable part, is the fact that sometimes, that half which severely annoys you actually can consist of your friends as well. like real friends. its just that god made them so uniquely damned fucked up in the head, that half of you wants to befriend him/her and the other half questions your sanity.
i have no qualm sayin that they do exist in my life.
god damned. ain't it all just quaint.
bloody ironies. pffft.

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its intriguing how a piece of paper can hold nearly every shit you had to go through with your life. if i really gotta thank god sincerely, i'd say thanks for my hands that can draw.
now instead of just writing everything i hate, i can draw everything that kills me.
this is one ironic gift.

sudden urge to burn that piece of paper though. it just seems so... flimsy. i think if i burn it i might cry and laugh myself fucking silly at the same time. man. i am so full of despair and when i look at myself i feel like retching. disdain for myself. art and blood feeds my soul.
i should consider being the first vampire in singapore. aftetall, Vampires will never hurt us.

i wish i could feel your soft lips on mine. its a salvation that i can't just dream of.

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Do they have radios in heaven?
I hope they do
'Cause they're playing my song on the radio
And I'm singing it to you
If they don't have radios in heaven
here's what I'll do I can bring my guitar when my time is up and I'll play it for you.

very screwedly, i can't play the bloody guitar for nuts. but hey, i can always dream i do. just realised what kinda screwed up life i've been livin. makes you wish that you could have done something about it when you actually had the god damned time. but procrastinate and procrastinate and you end up permanently creating this void that can never be filled. you end up screamin regret in your dark, empty hell hole called 'room' and drown yourself in fuckin tears. but hey, cry me a river. god won't bleed for you and no one else would. so you can either slit your wrists and taste your own salty mixture of blood and tears, or you can continue living your life tryin to make things right. i chose the latter. and now i face each bloody day tryin to rectify everything wrong. (rectify. its such a bloody ugly word. like. rectum.)

but problem is... its so damned hard.
its too damned fucking difficult.
to face people, to face myself. what's a boy to do. i'm just a kid.

nietzsche said.. god is dead.