Dear all,
Gossip girl here.
Did nothing. Went out for coffee--Met up with Clement and: wife Sue.
Sunday, right? Its rainy disposition contradicts its title. A mellow feel, with a void... that's what today feels like. Such can be said about other days. Don't advise me to fill that void--this is not a cry for help.
I bet you're wondering what I did with my weekend. I watched TV and moped in a regretful fashion, just like anyone else. About what? About the situations that are small but enlarged in my mind. Trivial things. Everything is somewhat trivial, I feel.
Yours truly,
-Not Li San. Neverrrr.............dot.
Sunday, 24 August 2008
Friday, 15 August 2008
Technically...
Hey all,
It's Me, reporting from the Beijing Olympics!! It's really great here, the atmosphere is so lively and so make-belief. And as I sit in this hotel room in the actual Olympic Birds' Nest monolith, I can't help but make up more shit.
I went for an interview this morning. On time in a hurry, is how I would term it--doing the same sort of work as I did in KL. Recommendations by people and recruiters on how to find work I want is to start in a role I've experience in and work to where I want from there, which is--very much--a popular suggestion these days. I still look for that one alternative option. Irrefutable.
I have a bit of an aversion to doing all that again. Worse, I have to brush up on all of that now. Pity. Fuck. I don't want to write anymore. But I must try. And you will read what I try, or try what I read.
My other work option sort of caved in, and fell through. And now I'm working casually as a technical writer. What do I know about technical writing? Very little. "Very," got it?
What's technical writing? Apparently, technical writers document procedures and policies of a particular process of some sort, be it wiping your ass or blowing your uncle, there are steps and lots of other things that need to be documented. That's what they do. For a company. Or for company. I'll let you know if and when I find out more.
Love,
-Skanky Yi Hwa xoxox
It's Me, reporting from the Beijing Olympics!! It's really great here, the atmosphere is so lively and so make-belief. And as I sit in this hotel room in the actual Olympic Birds' Nest monolith, I can't help but make up more shit.
I went for an interview this morning. On time in a hurry, is how I would term it--doing the same sort of work as I did in KL. Recommendations by people and recruiters on how to find work I want is to start in a role I've experience in and work to where I want from there, which is--very much--a popular suggestion these days. I still look for that one alternative option. Irrefutable.
I have a bit of an aversion to doing all that again. Worse, I have to brush up on all of that now. Pity. Fuck. I don't want to write anymore. But I must try. And you will read what I try, or try what I read.
My other work option sort of caved in, and fell through. And now I'm working casually as a technical writer. What do I know about technical writing? Very little. "Very," got it?
What's technical writing? Apparently, technical writers document procedures and policies of a particular process of some sort, be it wiping your ass or blowing your uncle, there are steps and lots of other things that need to be documented. That's what they do. For a company. Or for company. I'll let you know if and when I find out more.
Love,
-Skanky Yi Hwa xoxox
Monday, 11 August 2008
Don't cut yourself,
Dear all,
How are you? How is the weather there? Any news of that thing we were speaking about last?
Enough about you. I just got a new old car. It was filthy. I was charged with cleaning it and did as such, today. It may have taken 2 over hours to clean it all. In and out, in and out.
I bet you wonder what I do when I don't have a solid job just yet. Well.. I'll tell you. First of all, I wake up around 10ish sometimes earlier, say... 8ish. After waking up, I lie in my warm bed for maybe 2 hours or so depending if I fall back asleep or not. It's cold in the mornings when dark meets bright. And so, the habit of lying in wake in a warm comfortable place--something as simple as just that--really hits the spot, so to speak.
After the whole 'waking up' process, which takes a while as you'd've already imagined, I look for something to eat, make some coffee, and proceed to smoke a cigarette outside... with cup of coffee in hand... facing the garden. This is where I talk to myself, and laugh... if that's not crazy enough, this is also where I think of things to say to people about their statements and criticism--because I'm not impolite enough to say it to their stupid narrow minded faces.
That's right! I am a coward. The tactful kind, perhaps. Or maybe not. Either way, I think it would be weird for my neighbour to one day catch me mouthing what appear to be strong and fierce words towards the garden.
Then, I do some chores; such as today, I washed this new car. I was drenching wet. Through and through. After which I would usually watch some television, but had not today... not until much later in the evening. I help prepare dinner. A stew, with steaks and other sordid vegetables. I also cutted my index finger on a can. I get cuts quite a bit, and wounds on and off.
You know what I dislike about cuts, bruises and wounds? It's not really the pain and stinging. That is pretty much bearable. The fact is that I like white and brightly coloured shirts and the redness of blood really sticks out in these colours. And so whenever you have these bleeding holes in you, you tend to disregard that they are there until you notice spots and splotches of red all over yourself. That's what I dislike: having to be careful what I touch and where, constantly rechecking to see if I'm still bleeding.
Yours truly,
-Nicholas Lo.
How are you? How is the weather there? Any news of that thing we were speaking about last?
Enough about you. I just got a new old car. It was filthy. I was charged with cleaning it and did as such, today. It may have taken 2 over hours to clean it all. In and out, in and out.
I bet you wonder what I do when I don't have a solid job just yet. Well.. I'll tell you. First of all, I wake up around 10ish sometimes earlier, say... 8ish. After waking up, I lie in my warm bed for maybe 2 hours or so depending if I fall back asleep or not. It's cold in the mornings when dark meets bright. And so, the habit of lying in wake in a warm comfortable place--something as simple as just that--really hits the spot, so to speak.
After the whole 'waking up' process, which takes a while as you'd've already imagined, I look for something to eat, make some coffee, and proceed to smoke a cigarette outside... with cup of coffee in hand... facing the garden. This is where I talk to myself, and laugh... if that's not crazy enough, this is also where I think of things to say to people about their statements and criticism--because I'm not impolite enough to say it to their stupid narrow minded faces.
That's right! I am a coward. The tactful kind, perhaps. Or maybe not. Either way, I think it would be weird for my neighbour to one day catch me mouthing what appear to be strong and fierce words towards the garden.
Then, I do some chores; such as today, I washed this new car. I was drenching wet. Through and through. After which I would usually watch some television, but had not today... not until much later in the evening. I help prepare dinner. A stew, with steaks and other sordid vegetables. I also cutted my index finger on a can. I get cuts quite a bit, and wounds on and off.
You know what I dislike about cuts, bruises and wounds? It's not really the pain and stinging. That is pretty much bearable. The fact is that I like white and brightly coloured shirts and the redness of blood really sticks out in these colours. And so whenever you have these bleeding holes in you, you tend to disregard that they are there until you notice spots and splotches of red all over yourself. That's what I dislike: having to be careful what I touch and where, constantly rechecking to see if I'm still bleeding.
Yours truly,
-Nicholas Lo.
Wednesday, 6 August 2008
Yes or Yes?
Dear all,
Today. I woke up at 6:30am. To go for an interview. My mother had arranged it. I don't know what's worse, waking up at 6:30 for a 10am interview or having my mother arrange it. Surely, both is fine.
Let's cut the story really short and say that I was at the vicinity till half past 10 to realise that this interview was not going to happen. That's it... I went home, watched TV and ate. And found two new references due to some mix up.
Ten minutes ago, my mother comes to me and suggests I do it again tomorrow in a questioning manner. I said "no," but she was still in my doorway. She would have stood there for half an hour if I hadn't said "yes."
"I know you're not even thinking of what I said," I said "you're just thinking of how to arrange it." I know that look. I know that stance. All too familiar with this method. It gets to me that I have to do this, irrespective of how best her intentions were.
I narrowed it down to the point that it was neither a choice, nor negotiation--just posed as if it were. This entry doesn't belong in this blog. Bear with it. Goodbye.
Yours truly,
-mathaafuackakk, ya that's why.
Today. I woke up at 6:30am. To go for an interview. My mother had arranged it. I don't know what's worse, waking up at 6:30 for a 10am interview or having my mother arrange it. Surely, both is fine.
Let's cut the story really short and say that I was at the vicinity till half past 10 to realise that this interview was not going to happen. That's it... I went home, watched TV and ate. And found two new references due to some mix up.
Ten minutes ago, my mother comes to me and suggests I do it again tomorrow in a questioning manner. I said "no," but she was still in my doorway. She would have stood there for half an hour if I hadn't said "yes."
"I know you're not even thinking of what I said," I said "you're just thinking of how to arrange it." I know that look. I know that stance. All too familiar with this method. It gets to me that I have to do this, irrespective of how best her intentions were.
I narrowed it down to the point that it was neither a choice, nor negotiation--just posed as if it were. This entry doesn't belong in this blog. Bear with it. Goodbye.
Yours truly,
-mathaafuackakk, ya that's why.
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