red letters

in my room now and maybe i dont want to choose clothes to see relatives in. maybe sometime in the next 5 seconds some mysterious ailment will grip me so tight i cant leave home. no didnt happen. jeans or trousers? should i go red? shirt or tshirt? try or dont try at all?

chinesenewyear in all its do's and dont's and gaudy festivities just makes me sick. i have to remember to smile and say nice words and spout my lousy chinese to relatives who prolly care less about me than i for them. handphone is out of bounds, so what will i do when all the things just get too much? - when i just really want to drink plain iced water, thank you. when no, i really dont want to eat anymore. when i smile quietly but say to myself yes i want to study in the states not in spite of my parents but because of them. when i shrug my shoulders but think to myself no i prolly dont want a girlfriend, not while im still sane.

this chinesenewyear rhs is in johor, my father's in jakarta, and my mother goes to sydney tomorrow. i think after the first day, after the initial explosion of kinship and reunion and bonds stretched to the limits of their strength, i would have gone through the most tasteless days of the year.

trudging slowly over wet sand
back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
this is the coastal town
that they forgot to close down
armageddon - come armageddon!
come, armageddon! come!

every day is like sunday
every day is silent and grey
every day is like sunday by morrissey