People say blogging is therapeutic.
Well I'd say I need more than this cheap therapy. I need professional help.


Close/best friends know only part of the whole story. Yes Nabila, even you.
Cause hell, I don't want people to know about my life story and the little-little things that goes on in my life.
I just don't like sharing my life with people. That's my nature.
I don't update people on my well-being cause based on my experience of people updating me about their life, they bore me to death. Unless you really do matter to me.

Have you ever seen me rant about my personal life in my blog, seriously?
My blog states less than 1/4 of what really goes on in my everyday life.
I'm not really the type of person who types in "Oh, I went to ____ with ____ and saw many people like ____ and took many photos with ____. So here are the photos...".
Which in translation means "Oh my God. Look how popular I am.".
Urgh. Sickening.

Oh damn. Sidetracked.


So yeah, I need professional help.
It's going downhill. Way down the bloody steep hill.
Why? One word; karma.
It's sucking the life out of me. Damn.
I've done all sorts of bullshit in the past and now karma's coming to pay me back.
But this is more than bullshit. It's way beyond the point of 'bullshit'. This is more like 'bullshit taking a crap at Santa Clause at the North Pole on Christmas eve' bullshit.
I'm always telling people to always look on the bloody bright side of things, but I can't fucking see even one silver lining right now and it's freaking me out cause I usually do, though looking like hell in the process of getting to it.
I guess I appear to be talking serious nonsense, but I think I'm the only one who can understand what I'm writing. Or maybe typing.
So is anyone up for a trip to the psychiatrist's office with me?




This picture was taken way back, but I miss that night.
But one way or another, I'd like to reenact it and lose my mind just for a little bit.
And I'm still waiting for that idiot up there to send me pictures from last week's chalet. Damn you, bugger!
But thanks to this bugger, I found myself alive and kicking the next day.



Help me solve this equation.
What does
[Low blood pressure + Massive Stomach Cramps + Addiction + Delusions + Fatigue - Appetite - Sleep]
Equal to?


To anyone who drives a car, preferably a Volkswagen.
Could you kindly knock me down on the street but you better make damn sure that I arrive at the hospital safe and sound, though lying down unconscious while they rush me through the A&E?
Please and thank you.