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Yesterday night, when I was sleeping, Ali Baba came to whisper in my ear. He had a very sexy voice, and he told me that there's no need to doubt any further. He had met Mona Lisa himself, and Mona Lisa is a boy. He also said that in his next life, he was going to be an evil samurai who would have plundered many villages and violated many women, if not for his master who had fucked his backside so hard, and so many times that he could not shit properly, and he died of constipation or rectum infection of sorts, in the tragic end.

I said, okay. Him or you? Mona Lisa or you, Ali Baba?

He looked confused. Or rather, he must have looked confused, if I wasn't sleeping, and had my eyes opened, I would have been able to see his confused expression, but I was sleeping with my eyes closed and I couldn't see, so I can only presume that he looked confused, and presume that I am right, because he didn't answer me, now that leaves me with another mystery unsolved.

This teaches me that life is full of ironies. This is like how I like my clothes to be well ironed, but I don't quite know how to iron anything other than a hankercheif. I don't even know how to spell "hankerchief" properly. I can only spell it out and consider if it doesn't look quite right when I put the 'e' in from of the 'i'. Only after I switch it around a little bit then I decide that it looks better with the 'i' in front. So egocentric, isn't it, to put 'i' first? The hankerchief is used out of politeness and consideration for others, sorta, when one sneezes and whatever, no?

Oh well, anyway, after that Ali Baba didn't say anything already, either that, or I fell deeper asleep and didn't hear what he had to say.

Sorry, Ali Baba!

If you talk to me again, when I am sleeping, I can't promise you that I won't fall asleep when you are talking, because when I am sleeping I'm out of conscious control. So if you are listening to my story now, or reading this, from the internet, why don't you come and talk to me next time, when I'm not sleeping, or sleepy at all, for that matter. Then, I can promise you, that if you talk to me when I'm not sleeping or sleepy, that I will try my best to listen to you. I don't anyhow make that promise to anyone, you know. I only promise to try when I really mean it. That's one good thing about me, I suppose.

I'll even comment appropriately and not ask awkward questions about samurai afterlives.

I'll do that for you. So, what say you, eh?

(sneak)

Softly

He was strumming my pain with his fingers...
Like it was his favourite guitar...
What a bloody sadistic fucker.
I can't believe I loved him.

xo angst.

Hello. Here is a confession.

I slept for too many hours today and I have a slight headache now.
I watched Sideways, this morning before lunch, and related with the depressing material too much more than I'd have liked to.

They should ban shows like that. It makes me feel like shit. The only kind of depressing shows they should make should be like those war shows, and the faces of the characters got blown into different kinds of proportions, and the audience goes,

"Woah, it sure sucks to be you."

It gets worse when I sleep for too many hours.
I fell asleep playing a game on my nokia phone. I was managing a "disco" and my aim was to get 300 people to be at my dance club at one time within 30 days.

I don't have a scooter.
And my adventures are not better than yours.

I'm sick of feeling cold. and warm. and the tightness in my neck and shoulders.
But I cannot think of anything to do about anything.