if i could only die my way
Here comes the mess of whines!
Woo... SPLAT!
So I had better surrender myself to the inevitable fact.
Sad shit.
I'd much rather die like this -
Not dead. Not alive too. What a way to die!
Woo... SPLAT!
Ate a chicken sandwich for breakfast, 7 small-sized packets of Cheezels for lunch and a bowl of oatmeal for dinner today. BLEURGH. It looks so darn bad in print. Oh, AND a mug of tea where I happily dumped a big spoonful of sugar. Not if my mum had anything to say about it though.
"Well done. One 'small' spoonful of sugar, one big step towards diabetes."
I feigned nonchalance and just gave the widest eatshit grin I could muster, desperately praying the sugar wouldn't dissolve so fast into my tea while wishing my mum would make a swift exit out of the kitchen.
As soon she was out of sight, I scooped out all the sugar that hadn't dissolved into the tea already, which probably amounted to only 10 grains of sugar. Pathetic.
So I had better surrender myself to the inevitable fact.
I'm going to die as a grotesquely obese diabetic and as I lay there dead, ants are going to swarm my lifeless body for I would give out a stench that reeks of sweet sweet sugar then.
Sad shit.
I'd much rather die like this -
I get out of my black Lamborghini at that stretch of vacant field near the Esplanade and start doing yoga to de-stress from a hard day's work cracking cases at the Criminal Investigations Department. Just as I execute the infamous yoga move that requires me to balance myself on one feet while both of my arms are stretched frontwards, there is a sudden gust of wind. Taken back by sheer surprise, I fall but there's two strong arms waiting to catch me. [Wah, damn shiok :) ] I peer out to see an oh-so-effingly-good-looking face, his eyebrows arched in concern and his voice drawls in a sexy baritone, "Are you okay?"
This man is bespectacled and dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt folded up to his elbows. He sports a slightly spiked-up hairdo and his pants are tailored just perfectly for him. He also wears black dress shoes that makes a clip-clopping noise as he walks me to my car and proceeds to nurse my ankle which got sprained somehow.
So we make light conversation. I ask his name and he asks mine. We talk and talk and talk and then... he leans closer to me.
"There is this attraction about you that is impossible for me to resist. I must make you the one who will keep me company for eternity to come."
He then leaves two barely noticeable holes on my neck and I effectively become one of the nosferatu.
He then slips into the driver seat of my Lamborghini after gently placing me in the front passenger seat and off we ride into the night.
Not dead. Not alive too. What a way to die!
Yep. Deep inside me beats a secret heart of a goth romantic.
Eh, someone give me a job as a scriptwriter! I know you people just want me to. ;)
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on Saturday, September 02, 2006 at 9:28 pm.
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