Sleep to Dream

Sleep to Dream

I tell you how I feel, but you don't care,
I say tell me the truth, but you don't dare,
You say love is a hell you cannot bear,
And I say give me mine back and then go there for all I care.
So, since I've had nothing much to do, I've been reading Indigo Blue, which is some Japanese Manga thingy. Very, very explicit (hell, I was like, "Whoa!", and everyone who knows me remotely well probably knows that it takes a lot to WHOA! me) and not much help with practising my Japanese since I'm reading the English translation thingy. Nice storyline, though. I'm also reading lots and lots of Jodi Picoult. I got The Pact on Saturday at Borders in Times Square, along with Abha Dawesar's Babyji. Ohmygod, Babyji is amazing. I read the review up on some website and I knew I had to get the book. Stupid MPH was out of stock with it and mom was going out on Staurday. She asked me if I wanted anything (I'd stayed up until 3am on Friday night, basically getting wasted with Naz, Nick, Carmen, Darah and Mel, then woke up at 6am for training, so I was completely KO'd), so I told her that I wanted The Pact by Jodi Picoult and Babyji by Abha Dawesar, silently praying that she didn't read the review of Babyji. Looks like she didn't (she actually commended my taste in books, haha) and she bought them for me. I've just finished The Pact and have yet to get my nose stuck in Babyji (except for the first couple of chapters), since Naz has commandeered use of it first. Looks like I'll be waiting for about another three days, but no matter.
I got my feet on the ground and I don't go to sleep to dream,
You got your head in the clouds and you're not at all what you seem,
This mind, this body, and this voice cannot be stifled by your deviant ways,
So don't forget what I told you, don't come around, I got my own hell to raise.
Okay, I'll admit that when I get into the mood, I can spend a scary amount on shopping - especially on books, electronics and DVDs. I spoiled myself this weekend on Sunday when Naz and I went out for lunch and I found Angelina Jolie's Gia (yes, that's the limited edition movie where she acted as America's first supermodel, be very jealous, people) and I got it. Helen's gonna come over and we can watch it together sometime over McDonald's or pizza or whatever. Yeah, I'll admit that I'll probably be staring at Angelina (have I mentioned how good she and Amelie would look together?) half the time and not be concentrating on the storyline, but I can always count on Helen to tell it to me again later. So, yeah, I'll admit to being materialistic, but not in the clothes way. I'm one of those people who wears what's comfortable, and nobody's gonna change that, if I was given a choice. Still, we've got Vivien and Amy lurking around, trying to get me into strappy red dresses. I'll have you chicas know that my cargos do the job - I've never had to carry a handbag, and they're comfortable. Mom's even thinking of recruiting them to take me shopping for something to wear at next year's Confirmation. Jesus. Yes, Amy, I'm materialistic, but you and Bunwoman won't be shoving me into a skirt. Can we compromise and I'll wear pants? Nice pants, they don't have to be cargos. Helen and Carin, I so totally need you guys there for moral support as Vivien and Amy try to make a girly girl out of me.
I have never been so insulted in all my life,
I could swallow the seas to wash down all this pride,
First you run like a fool just to be at my side,
And now you run like a fool but you just run to hide,
I can't abide.
Anyway, yesterday evening, I went to Hartamas for dinner. Mel's never been out to the Ramadan food bazaar before, so I thought I'd take her. Being a total smart person, I had my new Motorokr with me (yes, the one I got the week before last - touch screen and everything) and I was messing around with the stylus and acting the fool with Mel, as usual. As we were walking in the food bazaar, this bloody Mamak/Malay/Muslim/what-the-fuck-ever (fucking take me to jail if you dare, I don't give a shit) girl just came up to Mel and slapped her on the ass. My jaw dropped open and I just saw red. Well, to be honest, my jaw isn't the only thing that dropped. My Motorokr went sliding into one of those little drain thingys, and as a result, it's scratched all down the front. The screen's okay, but the SIM card holder got fucked up and now, it doesn't close properly, so it doesn't read my SIM. Let's not get into what happened with the Malay dyke, but yeah. I was so pissed. The first day I decide to use my Motorokr, this is what happens. Fuck that bloody useless dyke. I know nobody wants to lay you cause your so damn ugly - not even a makeover by Jay Manuel could fix that - but keep your hands to yourself! I swear I'll rip your fucking tits off and then we'll see what you have to say for yourself.
I got my feet on the ground,
Don't make it a big deal, don't be so sensitive,
We're not playing a game anymore,
You don't have to be defensive.
So, I'm back to using my v3xx, which isn't that bad. I've grown attached to it, anyway. It's kinda like a part of me, and I'm sure you guys will agree - you see me at school with it in my wallet, you'll see me anywhere with it, cause it's so slim and easy to sling around in my hands. The Motorokr didn't do that, but it was a pretty good phone. I haven't told dad yet, his birthday was yesterday and I so, so don't wanna piss him off. Especially since the Motorokr was a present/bribe from him cause he's going to work in Singapore. According to him, it's for the best, but for whom? As much as I'd hate to admit it to his face, I don't want him to leave, and I'm sure mom doesn't, either. Hell, who's gonna play mediator when mom and I are about to kill each other when she's spewing out gay-talk at me? Whatever, as usual, I'll act as if I'm completely indifferent to it. He says that if everything goes well, he and mom will go to Tokyo with Naz and me for the WTA tournament. Oh, shit. How the hell am I supposed to stalk Amelie like that? Naz and I had it all planned out (did I mention that we both speak no Japanese?) - we were supposed to leave on the second week of October and spend a couple of days getting adjusted, stay in one of those dirt-cheap capsule hotels and eat Japanese food (*vomits*), and now what?
Don't you plead me your case, don't bother to explain,
Don't even show me your face cause it's a crying shame,
Just go back to the rock from under which you came,
Take the sorrows you gave and all the stakes you claim,
And don't forget to blame.
So, there's this teacher in my school. Tan Siew Yean. And she teaches me English. I'd just like to say right now that she's the biggest bitch I've ever had the misfortune to study with. She thinks that she owns the goddamned planet and that everyone has to bow down to her. Anyway, she called me stupid today, and said I was influencing Xin Yi. Hell, I was just imitating Ikhwan (he's the History teacher) and Xin Yi was laughing. Hell, I haven't seen that girl in I don't know how long and all we were doing was catching up. Obviously, Tan's never heard of catching up since she has no friends. I hope your husband goes and fucks some other woman nd you die alone. What the hell gives you the right to judge me? If Carin and Helen and Sarah, the freaking pastor's daughter don't judge me, who the hell are you to do that, bitch? Naz, fucking... arrest/sue/whatever her or something. I have no patience for bitches/sluts/whores like you. And you don't even have the goddamn fucking decency or common sense to give me an A for English (thanks for making me feel better about it, Raksha!), but we all know that my English is the most kickass in 4 Gemilang. Go fuck yourself, bitch. God, I hate you. I'd kill you in a heartbeat.
Don't you plead me your case, don't bother to explain,
Don't even show me your face cause it's a crying shame,
Just go back to the rock from under which you came,
Take the sorrows you gave and all the stakes you claim,
And don't forget to blame,
I got my feet on the ground...

Less-than-fucking-three,
Steph

And I fucking miss you, grandpa. Every fucking day.