let's write bad poetry, shall we?

i guarantee you you'll find poems like this in 1 out of 5 blogs, normally angsty girls who confuse a spot of indigestion for razor-to-wrist depression; "oh woe is me the whole world is against me i suck i'm so ugly no one understands me me me me me me HELP ME PLEASE......."

as is a prerequisite in their work, the keywords words in the following entry for sad and misunderstood girls:how no one loves me, Vol 213 will include: hate, submerged, sinking, door, flat, nobody, invisible, alone, and, lastly, die. can't forget die, as 99.9% (really!its been scientifically researched!) of the poems end with the protoganist dying a slow, painful, ultra-melodramatic death.

let's go:


gasping, i crawled out of the quicksand that i was submerged in
only to find that my sinking is deliberate,self-induced, punishment for my sins
hate me for who i am, i already do
i am of flesh, of skin, of bone, but nobody to you
invisible as the air i no longer want to breathe
alone as i have always been, naked to the teeth
praying for one last chance, climbing up to heaven's door
admission is denied, he says, for you, forevermore
stranded in a world of tears, beauty and lies
no comfort in useless hope, even when i die
 
 
wow, i take it back. whiny poetry is totally hard to write. you know how hard i had to think to work 'die' in? forget 'flat', cos no self-respecting 'bright eyes' listening emo-kia would rhyme flat with crap, which was the only word i could come up with. plus, the death part is so not dramatic enough. dammit, i've even failed at writing bad poetry. uh huh huh i'm so sad! think i'll go get my pair of black plastic frame specs now.

yeah. i'm back. for as long as my attention span and my desire to write cock-shit-fuck-ass posts last, so hold on to yr horses there, people. (so she says to the approx. 0 ppl still reading).

anyway, seeing that i'll be attempting to archive my living experiences in the land of celine dion and big, huge, furry mooses (no prizes for guessing which of the 2 i'd rather hear sing and no, it's not the one with opposable thumbs), i thought i'd shake the dust off this blog and actually do the 2nd most pleasurable thing that people can do with their hands.

the first being writing with an actual pen, of course. (GOD, people!!)

plus, y'know, i'm back working at SSC and that means lots of free time.

also, i have no idea why my posts come off so American when, in real life, the inflections and accents on my: "fucking cheebye neh neh kia!" convince people that they are, in fact, speaking with a 50-yr-old kopitiam ah beng.


P.S. Someone help me add a tagboard leh. (and by someone i mean you, siti) hoho.