Haha, it's not so true... ...

Ohhhhhh~ It's been a bloody long long time since i'm writting on this blog.... its been what? 3 years? I guess i've missed recording down most bit of my life. Lets make a SHORT recap since i've poster that story "mother".

Well, i've written many sexy erotis stories for adults under a secret publisher name, got more famous than that Harry potty lady, and had many sex perverts wanting to MMS me their " private" video. But being a sweet demure and honest gal, i've decided not to see it but instead do them a favour by posting it on-line...again on a secret web, so that the whole world can see what they are doing. Eh, i think Tammy is one of my customer. Sorry ah, due to the overwelming responces, i can't really remember everybody's video, all almost the same la. Opps, i din watch ok.

Apart from making ALOT of money from being a erotic story writer, i also screwed my maths O Levels twice, and got into some funny funny schools and meet even more funny fuuny people. Wah, they even better then my customer's videos man. One is Chartwell Business school which is owned by a short fat and lousy Man who i think can't even do his accounts better then me b'coz the school collasped within a year in his hands. That son of a B****. Oh well, he got wat he deserves coz my ah beng fren told me that fella looked very shagged when he saw him in Jurong bus interchange, plus he is not only bankrup but also face appear on news paper. Damn, i hope he's a fan of my books so that he too will send me his video, i think more ppl wan to see. shiock ah.

The second, which is my current school is even better. I go there, wear nice nice for first few days, then after that... wah lou, like shit. T-shirt shorts and slippers, my sleeping dress even nicer sia. But then again, the place is so lahggy hot man, even the grass also cannot tahan, all brown brown and dry one. Next time when i need brown paint, i know where to get. But then, the ppl there may be funny funny one lah, a bit... no no, very Very different from my sec school friends lah, but they all very nice and siao. Had alot of fun together lo. We go school, draw here paint there, learn about what the artist who are already dead and deaded did and stuff, fun lah. But have bloody lots of projects to ruch, work like a dog, no time to post more videos on-line, many ppl not happy man. sigh i also dun want wat. Plus boss say wan me to add picture picture in the stories, how to draw? Wan me to pose meh, ehhhhh, so u as the reader intersted anot? Can help me pose, garentee nobody will know...hehehe... ...

Mother

Jamie had a wish, and that was to let her mother led a comfortable life. She felt utterly helpless whenever she heard her mother crying softly next to her room at night. She wished that there were something that she could do to ease her pain. There is no one whom she can turn to, her father passed away when she is only a month old, relatives refused to acknowledge them, and even her classmate’s parents scoffed at her mom at school, she does not know what went wrong, and needless to say, she has no friends.

On a bitterly cold morning, while searching for an old record in the attic, something interesting caught her eye. At the darkest corner of the room, there stood an old safe, and she wondered what is stored inside the smooth coffee-colored safe. The rusty old lock gave way after a few attempts in opening it by banging the handle of an old tennis racket she had found nearby on it.

With her hands trembling excitedly, she quickly roamed through the pile of old papers; she saw some certificates, old bills, and newspaper cuttings…

At the bottom of the safe, she found the most beautiful photo album she has ever seen. It was made of soft leather decorated with red roses painted on it in detailed. She was about to open the album when her mother appeared suddenly beside her with an expression of deep resentment on her lightly winkled face. The sudden tension in the room was palpable. “ Who gave you the permission to open this safe? Look what a mess you’ve made.” Her mother scolded as she surveyed the messy and dusty surroundings. When she saw Jamie holding onto the old photo album, her eyes widen with shock and quickly took it away. With her voice flat and husky, her mother muttered, “ Listen, this is going to be your first and final warning. Do not ever touch my things without permission, young lady.” with that, she left the attic hastily down the stairs.

Jamie had a hard time trying to get to sleep that night. She could not stop thinking about the beautiful photo album, and her mother’s reactions towards it. Why was she so worked up? Why did she seem so unwilling to let me have a looked at the photo album? The question kept gnawing at her. Finally, curiosity got better of her; she had decided to sneak into her mother’s room after school and get hold of the photo album, which she believed to be hidden deep inside the closet.

Finally, after much planning and anxiety throughout the whole day at school, she is finally home; the moment has come. Wasting no time, she quickly opened her mother’s closet and proceed to open a secret cupboard where her mother often keep important things such as her birth certificate, money and most important of all, a gun, in case of burglary. As expected, the photo album is found inside the cupboard. Not knowing what to expect next, she flip opened the album excitedly, oblivious of her impending doom.

The first picture made her eyes watery; her father, Harry, was smiling brightly at the camera, beaming with youth and confidence. That was the first time she saw her father in a happy expression other then the solemn picture on his gravestone.
.
The next picture was such a shocking sight, that she gasped in horror, staggering backwards in disbelief as her thoughts shattered into fragments she could not piece together upon seeing it. She was welded firmly by confusion to the cold hard marble floor… it showed her father kissing another person passionately that resembles eerily much like her mother, except for the fact that the person is a … man! Her intestine twisted sickeningly inside her. At the bottom of the picture, lies a heading: “ Harry and Simon’s First Wedding Anniversary!”
Suddenly, a voice spoke out of the darkness mere inches behind her back. “ I know I shouldn’t say this, but I’m sure glad he is dead,” mumbled the person, his words as cold as ice cubes rattling in a tray. “What?” Jamie gasped in utter disbelief, color draining from her face, as she turned, facing her mother directly in the face and screamed. Whimpers of help were forcefully firmed at the bottom of her parched mouth and her delicate features screwed up in distress… The house was shrouded in silence for a long time.

I Hate Myself

The anger and suppressions inside of me is becoming more and more overwhelming as the days pass and there's nothing i can do about it but to turn to God for help. I hate myself and i don't know why, oh gosh, this does not sound like the usual me that people came to know me as, the cheerful and happy go lucky girl... crappy, eccentric... you name it. But hey, how could i expect people to know me when i don't even know? I wish i could love myself and people again but life seems like a dark hole to me, it sucks. I like black roses, coz although it's black in colour, it's still able to maintain it's elegance and beauty... i wish i could. I don't wanna be in the grounds of gray and white. Crap, what on earth am i shitting about? Gosh, i better retreat now, Peace.