we all move on. tertiary instituitions, license to watch The Mist, allowed to enter the billiard hall - and we do it so quickly and aimlessly in a set manner passed on by our ancestors, it seems like making one's own life less frivolous is the only way. sadly, we have only 80 years or so to make it more than a game where you only live and die once, yet we choose to make this short timely run an unpleasant one.

2 persons holding shoppings bags, and 8 people clipping cigarettes between their index and middle fingers, in front of a no-smoking sign; drivers with loud actions when you switch lanes, and the only reason why you can still remain so calm and cool about it is because their expletives are made inaudible by the separating panel of windscreen; the waiter asks for the bill, and your friend suddenly has an urgent call to attend to; buttocks unwillingly attended by a strange masseur, people getting wasted on the dancefloor, car reeks of alcohol when you risk the dangerous ride home, and the best part.? people are willing to pay to do so; fresh faeces surprisingly leaps its way out of the designated toilet bowl, and people litter beside the dustbin; a pregnant women never gets to sit, but that zinc leather bag thrones the seat; we exchange a silver coin for a cup of tap water (?); 15 year-olds picking up fights in school toilets because one pair of eyes meet another for more than 3 seconds, and both parties have their entire cohort of hia di to coincide and exchange punches and kicks; famous and loveable people like MC King dies of a heart failure with no set timing/place/warning; lack of money equates to a whole series of robbing, house-breaking, stealing, and not to live life in a much low profile manner; ears interacting with high pitch screaming self-loathe songs about the never-proven god of satan (who'd actually admire them for bringing bad things into this world.?); drugs.?; friends who say, "joey is a very big nin na bei ka ni na lao bei lao bu bo bei bo bu pua chee bye sai kang fuckernarthan assholic guy," when their dislikes include backstabbers;

and the list goes on, longer than all the aunties' receipts proving their purchase at Sheng Siong Supermarket all gathered together.

i am not a perfect soul. i am guilty. the life needs more than bloody baby-preschool-nursery school-kindergarten-primary school-secondary school-fuck (applies to some, though a handful, already)-poly/jc/ITE-army-university/work-say, "i love you" to a girl-engage-marry-fuck (in its correct placement)-kids-work and work-attending family dinners for the sake of doing so-parents, grandparents, or siblings take their leave one by one and never come back-then your turn to die. it needs the government to stop all thoughts and considerations about implementing new ERP gantries, increasing taxes, and halt the rationale of everything-goes-up-except-the-salaries. blind ourselves when it comes to monetary subjects, and take the begging poor soul's empty tin as an arcade machine.! quit joking about the auntie who squeals, "tissue paper 1 dollar," at the interchange, pass her a $1 coin and say, "keep those packets for the less generous,".!

we owe a living to these people (?). i am guilty because i went to cine's kbox overnight with dex and holmies and took the now-very-fucking-unpopular cab back home at 5am. i met ben for dinner at al ameen and drank teh-cino ice instead of teh. big cup somemore. we are goners and sinners. we spend because we have the money. it becomes a norm to overspend, it becomes weird to talk over a cup of coffee at the market. game over (?).