GONE FOR BETTER OR WORST

She’s running.

PART-TIME DECAYEE

What : Still Pending
When : 5.47 pm and a few seconds

Oh Universe,

Why are u dressed in black and white? Is this entirely a dream or are u trying to draw me back into another miserable cycle dream? Try eating? Oh please try not to waste all my efforts, can u? U would only get me into trouble if u keep forcing me to eat. Go on, please tell me something, throw me anything! Spell me blood if u must. Blood flowing out through the nose or the mouth, anywhere! If u don’t, I wouldn’t have the strength to feel u if u continue hurting me like this. It’s disastrous, can’t u see? It’s disastrous chronic mental disease, can’t u feel? Whatever definition the fucking word pain is…

I am still in the mood to live!

SHE DUMPED HER

What : I need wheels. I don’t mind even if it’s ugly
Why : I want to go for a ride and yes, I am ugly too
When : 9.03 pm failed to make me blush

Dear mirror on the wall,

Today’s afternoon, I saw my little dreamsindoubt walked out on me. The best part was, she didn’t say anything before she left. All I could see was she kept mum, long-sighs, feeling utterly disappointed, she then made up her mind, floating off to my cancerstick’s smoke, then poof she goes in thin air.

What’s left now is me. Just the oh-so-helpless, always-looking-bad me. Sitting here with the good ol’ moon, together we believe, true-good-people do exist elegantly somewhere.

Therefore my fellow comrades, do be prepare. For I could never guarantee any one of u that I could ever beg this feeling to stay in one and only same place for the longest time. This goes especially to clowns who fonds of freezing my heart then juggling magicpills and tumbling them down through my throat.

Sorry clowns, your final rounds of thrill and entertainment are over.

Instead of waiting a good but bitter friend to donate a good fuck to my one and only life and leave me screaming like a siren, I’d rather go back to where I once started. Talking to my reliable blood-pumping machine, with no lights on, then chase a cab, feel the wind, spend my solitary nights on the hill, squatting, making love to the moon and be a lesser stupid fool.

Before that, I need a tool. A tool to ease these strong pain.

Yes, I won’t give up. True friend, true love still standing. All I need to do is to stand together. With or without legs attached.

Be well to whoever u are

ONCE AGAIN

What : Wave of Goodbyes
When : 4.06 am

Dear Sea of Hurt,

My head is confusingly spinning a haunted-web and it hurts me deep. Uncontrollably.

Whatever nameless pain flowing slowly are starting to move real slow-mo than ever. I feel so stuck, ackwardly stucked on the edge of this so-called life.

The more I tried to calculate, to understand the things around me, the more mathematically insane I get myself into.

Is this what Mr February have installed for me?

Shortlived happiness and unfulfilled peace? Is that all? Where’s death? Why death not included yet? How long more should I hang onto these invisible-enemies?

Oh please life, stop hissing! I’d rather u freeze my twenty-eight years of breathing and it than hearing me screaming, “Oh my God, no!”

STOP HISSING!

PERFECT DAY PERFECT DREAM

What : Ten days later
When : 12.07 am

“Row, row, row your boat,
Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is but a dream.”

For a minute, all of us wanted the same thing, same note, same life, same lucky star and exactly the same mindblowing battleground. Next thing I know, everything was just a dream. A short-torturing, meaningless dream that isn’t made to be part of mine and never mine to command.

Oh did I mention that I tried rescuing someone while everyone was wide asleep? Oh shut that flaming-lip up, Nong! As if anyone care.

Here’s Antony and The Johnsons for him and him and all the little cripple starfish they used to love.

Mr. Muscle forcing bursting. Stingy thingy into little me, me, me. But just “ripple” said the cripple. As my jaw dropped to the ground, smile, smile.

It’s true I always wanted love to be HURTFUL. And it’s true I always wanted love to be filled with pain and bruises.

Yes, so Cripple-Pig was happy. Screamed ” I just compeletely love you! And there’s no rhyme or reason I’m changing like the seasons. Watch! I’ll even cut off my finger. It will grow back like a Starfish! It will grow back like a Starfish! It will grow back like a Starfish!”

Mr. Muscle, gazing boredly. And he checking time did punch me and I sighed and bleeded like a windfall. Happy bleedy, happy bruisy.

I am very happy, so please hit me. I am very happy, so please hurt me. I am very happy, so please hit me. I am very very happy, so come on hurt me.

I’ll grow back like a Starfish. I’ll grow back like a Starfish. I’ll grow back like a Starfish. I’ll grow back like a Starfish. I’ll grow back like a Starfish. I’ll grow back like a Starfish. I’ll grow back like a Starfish. I’ll grow back like a Starfish.

Like a Starfish…

MAKETH A POINT

Dear Lonely Universe,

Hurrah everyone! It’s 4.27 am and I am still not asleep.

I’ve tried getting myself friendly with Thursday by drinking three cups of tea black, smoking cancersticks and nibbling chocolates just to fill and refilling my empty tummy, but still, it doesn’t seem to help.

Next twenty minutes, instead of lying flat on the bed with a full abdomen, I ended hiring my hand, with eye-sockets looking so fuzzy, poking into the plastic bag, examining all the stuffs that I’ve vomited out at oh-so-rapid pace.

I guess with all these semi-retarded state, I would soon be celebrating life in the dark, by metamorphosis into Darth Vader-Asian Version. Haha.

“Don’t u want to be healthy? U know stay happy, healthy and etcetera? Oh, Don’t u care about the future, darling?“

Oh Yucks! Please, that’s enough. Those sounds so Greek to me.

Don’t u try to regain the bright side of me by forwarding and mimicking such temporary-killer questions to me over and over again. No matter how religiously neutral u projected yourself or how professionally u people tried to insert not-so-helpful advices through my brain, I don’t think I would be donating permission to access to my system.

For your own grave’s sake information, many tried and many have drove their faith to hell. So, don’t try or don’t act smart if u don’t wish to be next.

But if sincerely been wanting to see the better of me, think easy. Just show me the big door to love and I bet the rest would follow.

But if u people belongs to the leave your broom somewhere and watch the litter grow society, oh please leave and never delay.

As for Smt, Fzh and Darling Fau, I am sorry, really. I simply can’t judge what’s wrong or right or good or bad or correct for me. Therefore, please stop trying too hard to recover me. Go take a break if u need to.

I promise, once I’m well, I would give u guys the opportunity to dance with me again.

Be well

BREAKING DOWN MIND

What : Exhausted
Why : I think I am going
When : 7.15 am

Oh universe,

I saw myself fighting on bed last night. Fighting with that someone in me. Till it blocked me from sleeping. Oh it was at 4.30 am. Yay?

Oh no, I am not pregnant. Oh, how I wish I am right now. Without sleeping with anyone lah! Whatever the flying fuck is, I am madly dislike myself very much right now.

Yes, I am unhealthy again.

What should I do to like myself again? Should I just set myself to be blissfully blank and take whatever I have now, seriously? Or should I just unclip my wing, set myself amazingly free, continue to day-dream delusionally, and see myself fly away?

“To be minimise all fears, u need tools, the right ones to start with”

Guess what u said is true. I am in need of the oh-so-right tools to create happiness.

“Oh cut the crap lah bitch. U better get going to the shower-room or else u would be late for breakfast again”

Haha breakfast! As if I could eat. Oh well…

Be well love

THE SEMI LAST RESORT

When : 4.04 pm
Where : Yahoo Messenger

BETTIE HUSSEIN: nori
BETTIE HUSSEIN: i need help
BETTIE HUSSEIN: meet me if im there
BETTIE HUSSEIN: i need someone
BETTIE HUSSEIN: get me books
BETTIE HUSSEIN: any books that could make me happy
BETTIE HUSSEIN: any books on history of our religon
NORI DARLING: books wont make people happy
BETTIE HUSSEIN: any books that could make life reset again
NORI DARLING: its not the books lah
BETTIE HUSSEIN: sigh
BETTIE HUSSEIN: that is so unkind of u
NORI DARLING: apa cerita pulak ni?
BETTIE HUSSEIN: ive read and some yes made me happy
BETTIE HUSSEIN: aku rasa hitam putih
BETTIE HUSSEIN: lepas ni kelabu
BETTIE HUSSEIN: brb
NORI DARLING: its about living and breathing the ones u read…
NORI DARLING: kalau asyik read je..and do nothing..no point jugak per
BETTIE HUSSEIN: thats what u see
BETTIE HUSSEIN: people see what they want to see
BETTIE HUSSEIN: i cant say anything
NORI DARLING: and u will use that excuse over and over…hmmm…
BETTIE HUSSEIN: i am just acknowledging
NORI DARLING: when people wanna help..u choose not to see …
BETTIE HUSSEIN: it is not an excuse
BETTIE HUSSEIN: so please excuse me
NORI DARLING: u’re excused

COLD IN GREY

When : 3.33 pm
Where : Here

Oh hi,

For the past weeks, I’ve been sleeping at 6 or 7 am and wake up at 8, 9 or 10 in the morning. Somedays, I could even walk around for two or three days without the help of sleeping. Yes, not even a single wink.

I’ve popped few diazepam, but they won’t work much on me still. Yeah, placing my everything on placebo-effect does made me dizzy and spinning for a bit. But violent minutes later, they would left me, my heart, all insecured, on a super-fast rollercoaster, without strapping any safety belt.

Next I could see death passing, floating, waving at me, the whole night till funshine ends it’s daily routine.

Though doctors have been prescribing me this and that, blue and white, I am still way too stubborn to pop them on time. The only time I would pop them is when I don’t think of love, love and love.

When I have a need to look up on one literally as well as metaphorically, my heart would screamed, “I don’t see why u should get drunk, high and bright by popping these when all u need is some-scuds and love”

Oh well, maybe I should just heed Roger’s advice, “Down them every morning and down them every night, on time. If fluoxetine doesn’t match u anymore, I’ll give u a bed, friends and some fuel that could make u fly up, up and away”

Oh Roger, the money u earn is yours, so go on, do whatever u like. Do whatever u like, as long as u could make this half-angel-half-disaster sing “Sullen Girl” to herself, all the way to an ideal hell, the therapy’s ward again.

Who : Fiona Apple
What : Sullen Girl

Days like this, I don’t know what to do with myself
All day and all night
I wander the halls along the walls and under my breath
I say to myself
I need fuel to take flight

And there’s too much going on
But it’s calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion

Is that why they call me a sullen girl — sullen girl
They don’t know I used to sail the deep and tranquil sea
But he washed me shore and he took my pearl
And left an empty shell of me

And there’s too much going on
But it’s calm under the waves, in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves in the blue of my oblivion
It’s calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.

FALLANDGOSOUL

What : Peace is a trick
Why : Not yet a trickster
When : 9.03 am

Oh universe,

Something is distracting me and I could even hear it whispering in my head. May I know, if this is reality? If it is, how and when am I going to bloom, if I continue like this? The day I’m doomed? After I planted a tomb in my room? Tell me.
-
At 2 am, I’ve been sitting, lying, tossing, rolling on my Josephine for hours till I could see everything, everywhere turned twisted, grey and cold. When I tried closing my eyes, lights in the eyes turned wild, till it drove my head to the middle of nowhere, to think of a plan, on how to shatter my null-skull without being rescued.
-
My grey-capsule is dripping silence. I could hear it and it freezes my feet.
-
The deeper I go, the more I have a need to leave. Breathe leave, it is. Like a corpse diving to the six feet underground.

Goodnight and Goodbye!

COMATOSE SOUP FOR THE SOUL

Oh people in my head,

U knew that I got all my fabulous plans ready; good food, good lightings, good bed and few good emolicious songs to go along with it. But right after the truth was out, I got all fed-up and dare not to begin. 

Next is demented pulse, thinner dreams, usual people, usual tales, colder feet and tears start rolling underneath my mascara-eye-lashes tip.

Under a blacker shade of darkness, I sit. I tried to imagine being a machine. A tears-hydraulic machine, that is. I tried to stop the sticky tears like pressing the red juicy button I saw on TV but again and again and again, I ended popping the pills.

I then watched myself move to the love-your-happy-ward society, with cartons of imaginary booze, imaginary friends and imaginary cancerstick, where it produces more heavy-fluoxetine-flavoured-tears. Tears that rather stay than to go away.

And it all thanks to my higher-stupid brain, I am now running west, leaving the wrong calling cards that I bought today.

Calling cards that I thought could bring light but it brought comatose to the heart and put my life at stake.

A BIT LIKE RELATIONSHIP

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid Disorder:	Very High
Schizoid Disorder:	High
Schizotypal Disorder:	Very High
Antisocial Disorder:	High
Borderline Disorder:	Very High
Histrionic Disorder:	Very High
Narcissistic Disorder:	High
Avoidant Disorder:	Very High
Dependent Disorder:	Very High
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder:	High

Oh boy, what a night!

After this and that, that and this, I realised that I actually have ten boyfriends altogether. Yes a big fat ten. And the most bestest part is, almost all of them have the same ’surname’. Haha.

Go on brain, go and make mind unsitting-still

O SLEEP, WHERE ART THOU?

Dearest globe,

It’s February and I am still here, having so much difficulty sleeping.

Still facing the oh-so-bright monitor, pasting my ears to the speaker, humming gently to Joni Mitchell’s tunes with a tummy that growls so lightly at 0400 hours.

So the menu of the moment are, should I just light a few cigarettes ala Peter Tosh and smoke it away ala Bob Marley and pretend to be immune to hunger? Or should I just tangle myself ala dictator up in my bedsheet and suffocate my braincells ala Bush till my brain fuse blows?

Ok that sound terrible. I know.

If my ex-girlfriend happen to hear this, she would definitely grab me by the neck and staple my lip in public instantly.

She would then continuously say this, over and over again, 

“If u want to have friends, U should NOT share any of your negativity thoughts with anyone. Even if thinking-about-death is meant as your personal happiness, u should always keep that to yourself…”

Oh well, u are gone now. With or without u, death would always stay as my long-term happiness. Forever and ever and ever and ever.

Even if I am underneath the ground, seven levels down, I would always be able to fetch food to my soul, without bending my knees. Unlike u, after marrying the man of your dream, u still look so thin, thinner than before and so soulless than me. Why is that so, darling?

He must be peeling your soul off one by one, every single minute, huh? Haha.

Oh pity u, african-elbow slut.

Maybe some fine day, u should come crawling to my abode. Join me making love with anything soothes the souls with anything that u and me could find in my dying-fridge. Haha.

Bottle of strawberry jam, four slices of white bread plastered together and a very long cucumber.

Does it sound so fruitful to u?

Badnuit Globe!

OD

So, overdose on twenty-eight amitriptyline had rewarded me seven days of outpatient hospitalisation leave.

Yahoo u yay-ed? Not for me, yo!

For me it would be a week of fuck-job with refrigerator-junkies, dvds, games and tablets.

I know, I have plenty of choices and I am still capable of leaving my room to run along the corridor in super-pink-panty-and-bra, shouting hello out loud to the hot sun. But due to being so weak, I chose to stay indoors than outdoors for the next seventy-two hours.

Yes my love, breathing in and out slowly of OD is a very stupid thing to do. 

If I have a shotgun in hand right now, someone would have snatch it away from me and shoot my lungs till it scatters into many pieces and turned my white shirt into red.

Whatever the fuck is, I am half-alright now. 

Despite being possessed by Amitriptyline, I am feeling so thankful to everything and everyone that successfully made my heart move.

Though I would be so much happier if amitriptyline kills me, I do feel slight-happy and thankful to HIM that my beautiful brain is intact and still have the capabilities to fold paper-boats and paper-planes, play Age of Empire like a pro, giving me the extra time to find a good-man and drink more water on so-much-water-earth. Yah, YaY!

I also would like to say many thanks to my sister Fzh, Smt, Dr Marcus Tan, John, Steven and the rest who were there in N.U.H for me. Your presence made me forget my plans to torture myself.

With the presence of such passionate people on treating sick-whores with their unlimited kindness, patience and understanding their needs, I bet it would be able to bring back many joy to all the sick-nations on the entire globe.

Here’s a song by Katie Melua to all of u,

I won’t hurt you
I’ll protect you
I won’t let the rain fall down
I’ll always be around

And baby I will understand
If sometimes You just want
To spread your wings and fly
And let your colours shine

And everyday
I wanna be a risk you take
Make a promise that
Will never break for life

You’re my butterfly
And Don’t fly away
Open my hands you read
Praying you’ll come back to me
You’re my butterfly
And don’t fly away
You’re my reality
Always be my gravity
You’re my butterfly
Ooo Yeah
Come on and touch the sky
You’re my butterfly

I won’t forget you
Or neglect you
Won’t let no one take your place
In your eyes I see my face

And baby do you know
That everybody watches
Every time that you take flight
They’re blinded by your light

Every day the feelings
Gonna be the same
I can promise that
will never change for life

You’re my butterfly
And Don’t fly away
Open my hands your free
Crying you’ll come back to me
You’re my butterfly
And don’t fly away
You’re my reality
Always be my gravity
You’re my butterfly

I won’t hurt you
I’ll protect you
Always be around
And everyday
I wanna be a risk you take
Make a promise
I will never break for life

Oh Hold on
Hold on
I’ll be here
OoOoo OoOo ahh hey
Cuz Your my butterfly
Whenever you need me here
Whenever you need me
I’ll be there
I’ll be there

Whenever you need me here
Whenever you need me
I’ll be there
I’ll be there
Don’t fly away
Open my hand you read
Crying you’ll be back to me
Your my butterfly

Don’t fly away
Your my reality

Always be my gravity.

NOT MADE IN HEAVEN TUESDAY

Before I start, pardon me for not updating. Don’t worry, my missing was nothing but an annoying re-turning wheel. Haha.

Today’s evening I only had coffee-white and a box of ciggie-light for dinner. God it tastes nice. For once, my life’s semi-good. Sipping hot milk coffee and smoking at the same time makes my cigarettes taste sweet and acceptable. Ok crap, I know.

Now let me recall what I did from morn till torn. *smile*

At 6.45 am, I woke up from bed with risk.
At 7.00 am, I took my shower with risk.
At 7.15 am, I coloured my face with risk.
At 8.00 am, I left home, smoking, with risk.
At 8.05 am, I walked to the bus-stop with risk.
At 8.15 am, I reached Boon Lay Interchange with risk.
At 8.25 am, I met Smt at the bus queue with risk.
At 8.26 am, Smt ran with risk to get my Green Tea in a can.
At 8.30 am, bus came and I tapped my ezlink with risk.
At 8.32 am, I sat on the bus with risk and Smt.
At 8.40 am, I looked and envied sky with risk.
At 8.45 am, Lou Read sang in my head with risk.
At 8.57 am, bus zoomed on AYE with risk.
At 9.15 am, bus met jam at Pandan Loop.
At 9.25 am, bus happily wheeled on Pasir Panjang Rd.
At 9.30 am, Smt, myself and risk were late for work.
At 9.35 am, I pressed on lift’s button with risk.
At 9.40 am, we activated out bionic nostrils in office.
At 9.41 am, still smelling for dangerous activities.
At 10.00 am, I chose to ignore ciggies.
At 10.45 am, I chose to be with risk and ciggies.
At 10.45 am to 3.30 pm, body bend, teary eyes, with cigarettes still in hand.
At 3.30 pm, I left risk and work uncried.
At 3.35 pm, I chased a yellow-bodied taxi.
At 3.45 pm, I met sorrowful four-eyed-Yzry.
At 3.51 pm, Dr David’s clinic echoed in head.
At 4.11 pm, I smelled Dr’s room full of copper.
At 4.15 pm, Dr plastered mercury manometer strap onto my left arm.
At 4.16 pm, Dr said my BP is low.
At 4.17 pm, I want a sphygmomanometer on my 2008 birthday.
At 4.20 pm, I locked my thoughts and hands underneath my lap.
At 4.21 pm, Dr David failed to break my thought’s code.
At 4.21 pm, I grinned together my teeth, so close, so quietly and so professionally.
At 4.26 pm, I lied professionaly and didn’t cry despite being triggered.
At 4.33 pm, Dr David suggested Xanax and Amitriptyline.
At 4.35 pm, my throat tastes like copper.
At 4.37 pm, my shoulder started to bent down. SO DOWN.
At 4.42 pm, Dr David gave four days to rest solitudely
At 4.45 pm, I saluted.
At 4.45 pm, I felt disconnected and left with drugs in my hand.
At 4.54 pm, Yzry walked me home.
At 4.54 pm, I called blue sky to rain.
At 4.56 pm, I felt water coming and clouds moved exactly right on our heads.
At 4.57 pm, sky wept lightly. Tada!
At 4.59 pm, my eyes looked everything in half.
At 5.12 pm, Yzry accompanied me to the lift.
At 5.12 pm, I felt disconnected still. Haha.
At 5.15 pm, I HA-HA my way to the room.
At 5.15 pm, I threw purse, handphone and keys out of my sight.
At 5.20 pm, I called Chacha.
At 5.21 pm , I asked for more cigarettes from her.
At 5.22 pm, Chacha sighed. I sighed too.
At 5.28 pm, Chacha invited me to join her and friends.
At 5.28 pm, I said that I prefered the room and pills more.
At 5.29 pm, Chacha said she’s on her way home.
At 5.30 pm, I said ok and hang up the phone and be numbdumbfuck.
At 5.35 pm, I called Yzry and said many thanks.
At 5.36 pm, I hang up the phone and be a numbdumbfuck for the second time.
At 5.51 pm, I called Smt.
At 5.55 pm, I downed three so-called-happy-pills.
At 5.58 pm, Smt said he almost reaching home.
At 6.02 pm, I hang up the phone and be numbdumbfuck for the third time.
At 6.03 pm,  I SWORE there’s metallic stuck on my throat.
At 6.03 pm, I felt torn and a semi-goner.

Now I am here feeling all perplex with coffee white, ciggies-light still and listening to Pat Benater’s ”Love is a Battlefield” with love and no peace but piles of bittersaltysweet memories scattering all over the place.

Ok time to tumble down to never-ever-happy land of dream.

And oh, for those who hate me secretly after reading this, please oh please be clever, will u?

If u dumbasses are proclaimed as smart people, I don’t think u would ever come here and spend your sparkling-diamond-shaped time reading every of my sick and demented writtings right from the start and hating me at the same time. 

Bla bla bla, that is so BODOH thing to do, ok!

Bonne nuit!