Category: Emo & Personal

Being away from home is certainly not a bed of roses. I find solace in Maltesers. The wonderful chocolate melting on my tongue, sticking to the roof of my mouth and bits of honeycomb malt making homes in between the gaps of my teeth. It helps me forget the desire to look at a familiar face.

I am terribly homesick these days. I suppose that’s why I’ve been consuming more and more junk food. Just writing this makes my eyes water. Am I even made for this? Almost everyday, Mom sends me tenderly composed text messages. Nowadays, I say “love you” to my otherwise unaffectionate Dad and brothers and they would even reciprocate. Relationships have definitely gotten better and the sad thing is that I can’t be present to enjoy them.

Everything here is so sterile, so surreal. Almost everytime when I’m out on the street, I’d be half expecting some random stranger to lose it and start running amok. Yes, they just have that sort of vibe about them. I don’t hate this place, but I’m not excited about it either. I want to be wowed, like some of my friends are and I’m confused as to why I’m not. I miss Kuala Lumpur, so, so much. Bf told me not to compare as it would only depress me further. But how can I not? When will I not?

Maltesers are so delicious. Especially after meal after meal of uninspiring food. I even got a giant pack (unfortunately it’s unavailable in dark chocolate).

Giant bag of Maltesers.

Just thought I’d share, don’t ever leave your bag of Maltesers next to your laptop. You may think that the chocolates are within easy reach while you surf, but there is a trade-off and it doesn’t worth the convenience.

Melted chocolates.

The heat from the laptop would melt them chocolates. Not so nice for consumption…

Brown mess.

I miss KL. I miss all of you so much.

Mom’s having a rather hard time trying to cut the umbilical cord. I don’t blame her, if I had a daughter I’d probably behave like her, maybe worse. Which is why I really don’t plan on having daughters. Once, I played some silly game of fortune telling with my friends. The game was supposed to tell you the sex and number of children you’ll have in the future by observing the movement of a ring suspended mid air with a strand of hair. I played it for 4 times and all the outcomes were stubbornly “two girls”.

I stubbornly maintain that it was the wind’s fault. Ideally, I’d like to have 3 boys. Four males to dote on me. Oops, I think I’ve just given away the real reason why I wanted boys…..

I’ll be rather busy in the next two weeks and more after. Finally, some real errands to run. Perhaps then I’ll have more interesting things to write about here. I’m kind of tired of trying to squeeze my shrivelled pea of a brain for blogging inspiration. So I threw Poonani Kiwi into the limelight.

Poonani Kiwi is my muse and alter ego in my imaginary world. She hates attention, hates people pleasers, hates makeup, hates stupid people in general, hates balless fucktards and hates people with no fucking opinions. And I think she hates me too for subjecting her to eating penguin, penguin’s boobs no less, for survival (because she would have been be able to survive in the jungle on ants), but I was in terrible need of a laugh.

Anyway, while my life is supposedly falling into place, new concerns are cropping up by the second. What’s new, right?