I am capable of listening to the same song over and over and over and over and over again, yes I am.

I could go to a mall in my home clothes aka pyjamas. Here's proof:



That was about five years ago, and we went to Red Box. And I could still do it now. Matter of fact, I just did it last week. The trick is to pray really, really hard that you don't bump into anyone you know. Also, profusely keeping one's head down helps to avoid stares. I could go anywhere in my pyjamas, really.

All these years of frying, steaming, and marinating fish, and I never knew that I was consuming something that was mind-altering.



Methinks the writer took some mind-altering substances before he wrote that.

I reckon that I've got a very bizarre sense of humor. For example, I just laughed out loud at this line from Rankin's Retromancer:

"Achtung! Achtung! Achtung!"
"What is all this achtunging?"

And I laughed so loud it made my mother turn and look at me strangely, for the TV was on and what was showing wasn't in the least funny (it was a Korean talk show and I understand jackshit Korean). So I guess that the older I get, the stranger my behavior becomes. Laughing at not-very-funny-things, being averse to door handles, being obstinate about using the online banking service to pay my credit card bill. That's just the tip of the iceberg.

Some movies, watched under certain circumstances, make you feel like sitting down and reflect on life.



I woke up after one p.m. today, and by the time I ate and took a shower and finished farming on facebook (whatever), it was already three p.m. So, remembering that I downloaded The Painted Veil (which I read before I watched it almost five years ago), I decided to watch it. I remember the book was somewhat different from the movie, not romantic at all, but it was a good read nonetheless. The movie had much more romance, and with the soundtrack and the brilliant acting, by the time it ended I was crying. And it's the type of movie which makes you hate the ending because you fell in love with the characters, and it had to end tragically.

So yeah, it made me feel somewhat emotional and depressed. After watching the movie, I came out of my room. This was about five p.m. and the house was dark because nobody had bothered to turn on the lights. The sun was setting, plus it was rather cloudy outside, so there was this melancholic feel to it. To add to that, it's CNY season, and I always feel melancholic during this time of the year.

So some movies make me want to reflect on life. If I could be arsed, I would of driven to the beach and sat down by my onesies. But I'm ageing, therefore I'm getting lazier, so I'll just sit at the swing on my porch. That would suffice.

Whee wang wang?

So yeah I'm sitting here wondering why I'm alone, listening to stupid sad songs, a bit of wine and more beer waiting for me. 26 this year, each passing day reminds me of how dear life is. I just want to quit everything and go pick apples in a place where they grow them. New Zealand, maybe. Maybe I watch too many movies, maybe I read too many books, on one hand I am comfortable where I am, and on the other I feel that life is too short for trivialities.

I could pick apples for half a year, then move to another country and be a fisherman for another half a year. Somehow, I don't know which movie or book it was (could have been the one that starred Julianne Moore, Shipping News or something, I'm too lazy to google it), I've always wanted to be a fisherman in Newfoundland or Norway.

And I'm thinking to myself, 2011 started off with such a bang, all that travelling, why the sudden let go of steam? Fucking hormones.

My phobia of millipedes have worsened so much that now I have to resort to parking at the multi-storey car park at work because the outdoor parking area at my building is simple INFESTED with them.

I always thought that as I grew older, these phobias would lessen. Just like my phobia of the dark and my phobia of ghosts. Now, I only get seriously creeped out if I read a Stephen King book or watch a mildly scary movie (I don't even bother watching those really scary ones, I just end up reading the subtitles). I used to be unable to sleep on my own or stay alone at home. At least, now I can. Most of the time anyway.

But millipedes. This phobia has grown absurdly worse. I blame it on my sister, who infected me with this phobia as a kid. She was the one who was afraid of them first, then she made me afraid of them too, somehow. It's her fault anyway because she's older.

I used to be able to go running about on a grassy field, blissfully unafraid. Now I avoid grass (which probably hide a few thousand millipedes) like the plague.

I recognise the scent they emit if you disturb them, and if I ever smell it around me, my hair will rise and I will start to mildly hyperventilate. When I used to park at the outdoor car park, every morning without fail my palms would get sweaty and my heart would race to 200 beats a minute. I'd have to close my mouth so that my heart wouldn't jump out.

So I predict that by the time I turn 50, I would never leave my room on the 101st floor, and if I ever do need to go out, I'd be walking on specially made stilts. Either that, or I'd have migrated to the North Pole.

And oh, my ultimate worst nightmare: millipedes with wings. God. If they ever evolve wings, just kill me.

This is pretty amazing. I know a guy who knows me so well, he can help me recall a lost memory. An example is, I was telling him that I'm paranoid about people chopping me into little pieces to make char siew pau (which is true, by the way). Then he said he's afraid of that as well, but he'd probably be dead by the first chop. And I replied, you never know, like that movie with movie with whatshisname (I couldn't remember the movie title nor the name of the actor), and I told him that my memory is very bad these days. And he immediately replied, "That Jerry Butler movie?"

Wow. It could have been so many movies and he got it right. And I don't recall ever telling him that I watched that movie. I'm still reeling with amazement. People are so funny sometimes.

Those little things I hate:

Bad breath.

Morning breath.

People who don't brush their teeth before bed. Gross. The only time I don't brush my teeth before bed is when I'm piss passed out drunk.

If you yawn in my direction. Refer to bad breath.

If you sneeze in my direction, after which I will give you the very evil eye.

Eye booger. Gross.

Nose booger. Gross.

Wiping eye booger and nose booger on things other than a tissue. Tissues were created for a purpose, use them!

Door handles.

Eye booger. Worth mentioning again because for some odd reason, I really, really find eye boogers disgusting. Mayhaps it's the greenish, yellowish, or whitish colour, which reminds me of pus. Mayhaps it's the sticky, gooey, texture. Anyhow, eye boogers are numero uno gross.

Pus.

Millipedes. I hope that they all die fiery, torturous deaths.