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Kitschton Hunolula

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The one where hormones need some spanking. [May. 29th, 2007|01:25 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Tags|, ]
[music |Pop! Goes My Heart]

I should be asleep by now. But I was reminded suddenly of Hugh Grant's ass in Music and Lyrics and I can't stop laughing silently. Add to the recent book I'm reading, Man and Mouse and I just have to write this.

What physical traits attract you to a man?

Me, I find myself drawn lustily to certain physical traits.

1) The ass. (as if you did not see this coming,)
The ass! The buttcheeks! the shaking of the rumba!

2) The BIG hands.
Let's just say, avon romantic novels, Lord Dain and big callous hands are just too sexual.

3)The accent
Hee Hoo Huum. Sexy man.

4) The voice.
Now, I like either too damn manly(bass) or super weird for a man. 

5) The way he says "Honey Baby"
Now if you wanna know if he's meant for you, ask him to drawl out honey baby in his most sexiest voice.

6) The smile.
That joker from batman smile turns me on BIG TIME! As in Big and full of happiness.

and finally, the WOW! factor for me is ...

7) The nose.
Waawaaweewah! I have a fetish. I use to dream of sucking a guy's nose. Prefarably a broken man's nose. Cause it makes him look so sexy! Big Time!

RIght, 2am is definitely my horniest time. ^_^

*I sound like Borat. >_<*

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The one with art softwares [Mar. 27th, 2007|12:25 pm]
Kitschton Hunolula
[mood |confusedconfused]

>_< I hate Adobe InDesign!!!!!

I have 2 weeks to learn Indesign, Illustrator and Freehand at the same time. By learn = study by myself. >_<       >_<       >_<

I feel a headache coming.

(let's just pray Lyla can withstand all this graphic work. The last thing I need is another menopausal computer.)
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The one with the damaged letter in the mail. [Mar. 27th, 2007|10:22 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Tags|, ]
[mood |satisfiedsatisfied]
[music |Sitem]

Does dead roses smell like tea leaves? 

My first real rose and instead of blooming in red splendour, it's dead and flat. Flat due to the how many years of being squashed inbetween his coursebook.

I find myself watching his graduation video over and over again. Giggling at his goofy walk.

I find myself reading his letters, running my hand across the paper knowing that his hand once touched that. Holding it to my nose, in hoping to catch a whiff of his scent.

I find myself behaving like a 11 year old with her 1st love. The purple scrunchie, the lock of hair, the many of pictures, the tracing of his hand, the penmanship of love.

To others this might mean a small thing. but the fact that it arrived after months of waiting brings a sort of personal achievement for me. However bittersweet it was. Let me bask in the moment before it ends.

Sometimes life is like the movies after all.


The one with the virgin's orgy. [Mar. 21st, 2007|12:43 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Tags|, ]
[mood |busybusy]
[music |Ehsas Jedid - Nancy Ajram]

I just had my first orgy!  ^_^

Literally of course.

Now, I always am a little apprehensive of wearing new articles of clothing in public because they always bring adventures my way.


In a span of one day, I ran to submit my final dissertation (Yes, it's done!), got a freaking leg cramp while leaping up the bridge due to lack of sleep and reached there 8 minutes late due to some wrongly printed pages.

Yes, it was like a moment in the apprentice where Donald say his famous words, except in my case it was,


Another case of so near yet so far. Beaches! But hey, let's pray it'll be ogay since she put the timing as 4pm on my slip.

Back to orgy matters, I was freshly awoken frm deep slumber in the train back home yet again and was minding my own business, standing there, yawning waiting to go down the escalator when,

in front of me was a turkish family (assuming from the luggages and the way they look). *is this a sign by the way?* when the 2 females of the group, whom I assume is the mother and the aunt looked behind and peruse me.

Yes, peruse and yes I was awake albeit all that yawning.

And yes, they were talking to each other while looking at me. Possible reasons I could think of:

1) They were thinking of stealing my scarf since that was the new article of clothing I was wearing so it is indirectly the cause of everything.

2) I'm cute. They wanna make me into the daughter in law of the family. (The guy is hot, but the father is waaaay hotter.)

3) They know Snowball back home but that is a faaar stretch.

4) They just simply hate me

I like to think as no.4 as the cause because 1) I don't wanna go home naked without my scarf, 2) I like the father more than the child so 2nd wife is not an option for me and 3) Just an impossibility.

Anyway, since I'm not a wax figure in Madame Tussards, I moved away to the back of the line. And yet they keep looking. I wanted to shout some naughty words in turkish but since all I know is pic, I decided against it. 

I am after all civilised, or am just plain lazy to pick a fight.

But the real part of the orgy begins when I was going down the escalator, an chinese man fainted/fall down and landed right in front of the end of the escalator hence blocking the pathway resultng in everyone to fall.

20 seconds from falling, I was stil thinking of ways on how to not fall, forgetting for a moment that I failed my standard broad jump and I can't fly.

Beaches. What is a girl to do. There are arms flailing all around, bodies creating a heap in front of the escalator, luckily I was saved by a student who hold my hand.

While getting up, I saw the faher of the turkish clan smilling at me. ^_^  Meanwhile the orgy was getting bigger and bigger. I seriously wanted to laugh but thought against it. Finally the chinese man was saved from all the bodies that is crushing him and he smiled sheepishly when asked if he was alright.


Unable to hold the laughter ,I quickly fled the scene of the crime. 

Running, cramps, turkish family, orgy, just tooo much for a Monday.


The one where I can't get enough of Pepsi Cola. [Mar. 10th, 2007|12:28 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Tags|, ]
[music |gugurnya bunga cinta]

With a towel as a turban and clad in sarong after a late night shower at 12am.
That is how some of the best Pepsi are drunk.

Today we watched a movie, Paris J'taime. It was great, a web of short stories of love. I particularly like the one where the old pair of husband and wife roleplay to heat up their relationship. And how he made it up to her by getting a mariachi band to sing her favourite song. Oh, and the mime love was just great fun to watch. 

But the funniest thing was when I opened my newly brought Pepsi bottle only to see it rise, rise, rise to a maximum volcano of pepsi. So yes, I went home feeling like cotton candy and reeking of Pepsi.

And I never felt any better.


The one where a lover leaves ... [Mar. 4th, 2007|03:30 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Tags|, , ]

A failed relationship is never easy. And nothing can explain the hurt, the agony and the unexplainable feeling you feel inside, wrenching your heart, slowly killing it.

But after all the hurt  start to heal and after you can smile again, one thing will hit you bad. And that is loneliness. Loneliness is the greatest enemy on can have after a failed relationship. It can also however be the greatest friend. A friend for you to know yourself more, a friend for motivation to get back that relationship.

I'm feeling hurt.  I can't stop crying. I tried, but it just dropped freely without me noticing sometimes. And when it does, my heart wrench in pain. 

We ended things on  light level. We joked on future lovers. I told him to not resort to an arranged marriage. He told me to find someone near to me. I told him I want a spaniard. He told me I have big nostrils. We were happy for that last 2 hours together. I felt loved. I fall in love again with his smile. I told him he has a beauiful nose. He told me I was the most beautiful one. 

He did a funny rendition of Bryan Adams, the song that I told him I always wanted someone to serenade me with. And then it's over.

We will always have the videos,
the wholeful archive of pictures.
the wholeful memories,
of when u blew a hurried kiss in a crowded cafe
of when u said I look beautiful when my hair was a disaster.
of when I made the puppet show of my mashis,
of the many times u threatened to murder him.

But most of all, we will always have 13.
Thank you.


The one with boobies! [Feb. 17th, 2007|01:15 am]
Kitschton Hunolula

Today I felt that Hansel & Gretal are fuller than usual. They seem so full they're overflowing. I feel buxom and ready to suffocate naughty kids!

Figure of speech of course.
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The one with dreamy dancing. [Feb. 16th, 2007|11:11 pm]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Tags|, , , ]
[mood |hopefulhopeful]

It's funny how sometimes outsiders can size you up in just a matter of minutes.


Me and Gad was waitting for a certain lecturer outside the VSS since they are deeply immersed in a meeting. ( We joked that perhaps there will be no bonuses for this year.) The VSS by the way was located behind the main building which is then located a 2 mins walk by sand

It's a bit like the house on the beach, that is if you're being imaginative.

Anyway, there we were, sitting on some stone fence glancing through a pictorial book when a pregnant lecturer self invited herself to join us. Browsing, flicking through the pages of the pictorial book, we gave comments like we are well known critics. We analyse and compare on the different breasts on view  Stopping at certain pictures to comment on how guys in the picture can't be trusted.

Gad: But how can you know?

Me: Look at the nose baby. Look at the nose. The more refined, the more you should turn away. They would leave you sooner than you think.

Mystery Pregnant Lecturer: *chuckles* That's not entirely true. .... Ok, maybe it is true. Handsome guys like that spells trouble. Take it from a married lady. Never jump into any wagon with any Tom, Dick or Harry. They would push you down while the wagon is moving.

Me: Listen to that Gad. Hop into a Volkswagen instead.

So back to browsing and flicking till Gad remarked for the third time;

Gad: That is so your kind of guy Kitsch.

And she was right. On all 3 counts.

MPL: You're into dreamy guys I see.

Me: *turns and blinks* Dreamy? No,no.

MPL: Yes, you're into them. I can see it. You go for those guys. Something like ... those bollywood heroes. Saving and romance. A guy that would go all out for you. Maybe a poet. You would go well with a fine arts student. They are the dreamiest kind.

That set me thinking On the train ride back home my wheels keep on turning like that Proud Mary song. 

Big wheel keep on turnin'
Proud Mary keep on burnin'
Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the river

Dreamy guys? Let's evaluate.

The past choices have been dreamy alright.

1) Dreamy eyes.
2) Lopsided, dreamy smile.
3) All wear glasses. Except for 1.

But one thing does not gel. None have anything to do related to the arts industry. Well except for 1, he who is without glasses. But for sure, all have something to do with computers.

Now if only I could find a glasses wearing, bollywood inspired hero, studying/working in arts and are into doing some lifeguard duties with me, we could be in business.

Come to think of it ... maybe there is.

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the one with the bobby cut. [Feb. 11th, 2007|10:48 pm]
Kitschton Hunolula
[mood |cynicalcynical]
[music |hoobastank - Running Away.]

Sometimes all you want to do is just ... stop.

I'm hurting.

I've cut my hair.
I've smiled in front of the mirror telling myself it's ok.
I've practised laughing for people in the public.
I've been laughing none stop.
I've been making jokes
My tears are masqueraded in the shower.

I'm ok. How long can I lie?

I just wanted you to tell me the truth
You know I'd do that for you
Cause I did enough to show you that I
Was willing to give and sacrifice
There's nothing that I can do or say
So now I need you to tell me the truth
You know I'd do that for you

Is it me, is it you
Nothing that I can do
To make you change your mind
So why are you running away?
Why are you running away?
...What is it I've got to say...
So why are you running away?
...To make you admit you're afraid...
Why are you running away?


The one with the soundtrack Part 1 ... [Feb. 5th, 2007|01:51 pm]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Tags|, ]
[mood |depresseddepressed]

We all go through moments in life that instead of making us happy, makes us sad and maybe a little lost on hope. If given a chance to compile a soundtrack of life's down moments, what would it be?

I would start with a MOURN DOWN followed by a NUMBNESS followed by SLAP YOURSELF. A 3 parter cd collection that would grace your cd player.


Now, to go back to being a hippity hop person you normally are, we first have to get all those toxinc out of your system. (e.g. a cheating ex, siblings stealing your food, your mum recording over an episode of yr favourite soap before you get to watch it...) In other words, you got to let those emotions out. And what better way to do that than to cry it out, wail it out.

WARNING: MOURN DOWN could be extremely addictive. So take in small doses if you're a beginner. If not, go crazy just don't tear your hair out.

1, Sinead O' Connor - Nothing Compares To You.
Blast it on full mode in a dark room with candles. Do it alone or onlookers might think you're into cult activities.

2. N'Sync - Gone
This is for those boy band loving humans. A pretty mild choice for this category Goes well on headphones.

3. Colin Ray - If You Get There Before I Do.
A country song. Never underestimate sad country songs man. Powerful lyrics with easy music.

4. Radiohead - Creep
Yes, we all are creeps.

5. The Shirelles - Will You Love Me Tomorrow
"I like to know that your love is a love I can be sure of..." 

6. Skeeter Davies - End Of The World
A great classic sing-a-long.

7. Hank William Sr - My Love For You (Has Turned To Hate)
The grandpapa of sad, wretching country music. Get the whole album!

8. Johnny Cash - Hurt.

9. Foreign sad songs.
Foreign songs give you a vehicle for extremely sad, tragic imagination. Listen and make their song yours. Some examples;

Sigus Ros - All songs.
Gokhan Ozen - Dayanamam, Birtanesisis, Duman Gozlum, Heyseyim Dur Gitme
Nancy Ajram - Entah Eih
Ungu - Demi Waktu
Dewa - Pupus, Kosong, Dealova
Search- Isabella, Lara Tari Pencinta.

A word of advise, its best to just close your eyes and sing aloud or rather sream aloud to it.  But then, you would have to memorise it. So it's up to each individual. Get your best depressing songs and go hibernating.

We will follow up on Numbness soon. The period where nothing matters anymore.


The one where I prefer to act [Jan. 1st, 2007|01:44 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[mood |crappycrappy]
[music |erik struggles.]

Can we be totally honest with ourselves? Can we look at ourselves and judge as critically as we were someone else? Or would we rather close one eye and accept ourselves for what is shown on the surface? But then again ...

Is that who we really are?

Are we just another hypocrite that we are so against?
Are we just another blob of dot in a mass of contradictions?

Or are we part of a conspiracy to another human life? Do we live to create an effect in another person whether bad or good and he in return will do the same to another being who then again will continue the cycle. Like an overused washing machine. Obediently spinning, spinning, spinning till it wears out and dies.

I've been getting questions of what I wuld like to do in my future prior to my graduation. To which all answers I could come up with is a smile and a slight shrug of the shoulders. A shrug of defeat. Not at what my future holds but at the defeatness of answering a simple question.

Or is it not as simple as it's made to be?

What do I want to be?
Who is my Idol?
What is my inner desires?

All these changes with time. It changes as your hair grows by centimetres. It changes as winter changes to spring. It changes at every waking second. I can't answer because it's mine. It is my hope. My desire. My dream. And nobody except for myself have the right to know what I refuse to disclose in my act of ignorance.

I want to be contradicing. 
I want to share. 
I want to be selfish. 
I want to love. 
I want to hate. 

After all, I am just an actress. Emotions and feelings are my daily salvation.


The one where I like to go.." That's so cliche..." [Nov. 29th, 2006|11:55 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Tags|, ]
[mood |contemplativecontemplative]
[music |Fire - Babyface & Desiree]

Growing up I believed that you only love once. That the first time you met that someone it will last forever. When you're a starry eyed kid, the word cliche is not even in a radius of 100km of your surrounding.

Now, in the quarter part of my life, everything is a cliche.

Falling in love at first sight? Cliche.
Falling in love with your enemy? Cliche
Dancing in the rain in a moment of happiness? Cliche. (well, it's gay broadway to some.)
Crying along with the rain? Cliche
Doing certain things to show your love that you never thought you ever will do? Cliche.

Everything, is a cliche as you grow older. Even the things that could make you happy. As the hair grows grey, we lost the ability to see the simplicity of happiness in little things. We discard it for an even bigger one, though most of the time it eludes us.

We rather be 'cool' and say everything is a cliche rather than accept the happiness that is there.

Falling in love at first sight?  Oh yes! I love it.
Falling in love with your enemy? Oh yes I've done it.
Dancing in the rain in a moment of happiness? Hell yeah! Let's swing from the lampost even!
Crying along with the rain? I'm in touch with my inner self.
Doing certain things to show your love that you never thought you ever will do? I'm proud to say I have.

The biggest secret we keep unfortunately is our heart's desire. Because that to us, is the biggest cliche of all.


The one with the Big L. [Nov. 3rd, 2006|12:58 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Tags|, ]
[mood |ditzyditzy]
[music |Some woman singing about olsun. Evet. Evet.]

I'm finding L to be such a distracting thing.
A very, very distracting thing.

Losing Living Love Laming Leaping Laughing.
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The one with kapower [Oct. 11th, 2006|12:19 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[mood |fullfull]
[music |Phantom of the Opera]

Everyone knows I'm a disaster area.
But even more than that, everyone KNOWS I'm a disaster attractor in the kitchen. I prefer to see it though as my calling in becoming a survivor chef.

Who else would 'grill' burger patties and hashbrown in a 2 piece toaster? Yes, I am very proud of this statement. Now if only I can convince my mum it is an achievement worth her crying for and exclaim, "My genius daughter!'

But we can only win certain battles.

So imagine my shriek of delight when I found Maggi Mash. 

Practically you just add the mixture to boiling water and in 30 seconds it's ready to eat. To buy or not to buy? Me and curiousity is a very bad combination. When temptation calls, you just got to answer it. (this does not include temptaion of the flesh/seduction/manipulation. ONLY FOOD.)

So which flavour did I buy? Garlic and black pepper of course. I was keen on sour cream & chives but the thin brother was adamant on choosing something less  ... explosive. 

So there i was, a  ^o^  cow over the moon. In musical terms, I skipped back home while the goat was playing beautiful music on his violin.

Heck, was I wrong.

The result was a weird smelling yellow mush which when you scoop using a spoon and swing a couple of times will drop with a soft 'plop' back to where it first came from.

And the worse thing was? It was a serving for four. But only I, the knight of the foodie table was standing firm in the kitchen while the thin and babyface brother scattered as the unraveling of the smell hit their noses.


Since when have I ever backed down in the name of food?!
This is the one who ate that meat curry my grandma cooked using fish curry powder!
This is the one who ate meat that could be used as a murder accesory due to its hardness!
This is the one whom my mum says I will not die of starvation if I were to live elsewhere!

*sobs* So I ate it.

And it was good. It was as good as that lemon chicken my dad brought us to eat at some tribe eating place in that neighbouring country. In summary, it was a s good as weirdness can get.

But even I, the knight of the foodie table can't eat 4 servings. And since I have no living pets to manipulate on finishing it, I had to discard it in the most sensitive way ever.

Let this be a lesson to all curious minds, never ever let curiousity gets the best of you.

Which reminds me, I have yet to get that ready-to-eat paneer butter masala. Yummm ..... paneeeeeeeeeeer ......

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The one with the surrealistic approach ... [Sep. 18th, 2006|01:05 pm]
Kitschton Hunolula
[mood |quixoticquixotic]
[music |Love Is A Battlefield - Pat Benatar]


I love a good storytelling in videos. Great visuals astound me. Maybe that explains the habit of staring at things. Not out to make problems but to appreaciate the beauty of it.

"Tonight Tonight" is an astounding piece of storytelling in video. It depicts what dreams are made of. Well my dreams of course.

The beauty of love in a school play.

I finally managed to get my lazy ass off and went to the core shopping area of my "town" as someone always say (COUNTRY) to catch the Dali exhibition at the Opera Gallery.

We were psyched but sleepy. That day being a Saturday and having to go to class at 9am in the morning is not a good way to start a weekend. But there we were, with out heavy bags, dragging our feets with a full stomach of sinful food. 
And Lo Behold!

I've always like Dali. And the fact that he create pieces by getting himself hallucinated. Surrealism artworks capture my gaze more than any artworks ever will. I'm not a lover of portraits, minimalism, or any others (except for the labyrinth works of Keith Haring). But surrealism, now that I love.

There's so many possibilities that you can let your mind wander to the impossibility.

Les Amants [The lovers], Rene Magritte

La Mariee, Marc Chagall

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The one with the favourite poet of all time. [Aug. 25th, 2006|01:19 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[music |Sabor A Mi]

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You

    I do not love you except because I love you;
    I go from loving to not loving you,
    From waiting to not waiting for you
    My heart moves from cold to fire.

    I love you only because it's you the one I love;
    I hate you deeply, and hating you
    Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
    Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

    Maybe January light will consume
    My heart with its cruel
    Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

    In this part of the story I am the one who
    Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
    Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.


    Pablo Neruda




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The one with the unstable cap. [Aug. 25th, 2006|12:48 am]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Current Location |Bimboland.]
[mood |nerdynerdy]
[music |Stone Temple Pilots - Plush]

"There is stupidity and there is plain dumbness."



When you cap a tube the other way instead of the real way for 4 months wondering why the hell the cap won't screw the tube tightly like it should , that's plain dumbness.


I'm turning into such a bimbo.

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The one with the no sleep. [Aug. 8th, 2006|08:38 pm]
Kitschton Hunolula
Oh god ...

How much I missed the feeling of rush hour. Rushing to get my projects done.
Building up the momentum as the clock ticks by.
Drinking cups of coffee and singing aloud at 4am in the morning.
Waking up in the morning after a 1/2 hour sleep and falling down flat on your face after taking 3 steps.
Taking the train like a drunk human being.
Laughing your ass off at every little minor detail in class.

Oh damn ... I never realised how I miss it soooo much.
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The one with time travelling ... [Aug. 6th, 2006|02:15 pm]
Kitschton Hunolula
[mood |accomplishedaccomplished]
[music |Cintamu Mekar Di Hati - May]

"Clare, I want to tell you, again, I love you. Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust. Tonight I feel that my love for you has more density in this world than I do, myself: as though it could linger on after me and surround you, keep you, hold you. "

I just finished reading the time traveler's wife by Audrey Niffeneger. I had to go to 3 libraries just to get my hand on this book. It was a feeling I get. Urging me to borrow this book which I thought was just a 200 page long but boy was I mistaken. It's quite thick. And it's been a while since I read anything thick, or to be honest, anything as poignant as this.

Yes, most of all the book focuses on is that one universal thing. Love. Love so strong that it brings despair and sadness. Love so strong that a moment of togetherness is worth every pain they had to go through.
 Waiting and longing, 
Waiting even more for him to arrive. 
Waiting for him to come back from all his time travelling, only to have him vanish again without any warning.

How the main female character found her love when she was 6 and he was in his 30s. How from there they met secretly in the meadow. She will leave him clothes. He will teach her french. How at such a tender age, she fall in love and kept that dream alive throughout the years. Finding the future time traveler that don't even realise her existance as for him, the story have yet to begun.

It's funny but most of all it's tragic. Tragic in the sense that he was crippled and died in the end. How she could not bear to look at their daughter because she saw Henry in her. How she spend her life waiting even after his death. Waiting for that day where he will appear once again before her ... when she's 80 and he's 40 ...

Throughout the whole novel I realised, the real time traveler is not Henry, but Clare herself.


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The one with the moths in the tummy. [Aug. 3rd, 2006|11:05 pm]
Kitschton Hunolula
[Current Location |somewhere with light.]
[mood |nervousnervous]
[music |I want to break free]

It's tomorrow!
It's tomorrow!

I'm so freaking nervous. I wanna bring mashi. Can I bring mashi on a leash? Pls say I can. *sniff sniff*

Today I changed my clothes in the dark.
I was nude in the dark.
I was putting on my pajamas in the dark and snubbed my toe with my bookcase.
The bookcase is white. Go figure.
I need to change my flickering room light before I ended up abused with bruises from my own clumsiness.

On a slightly funny note, I was early to class today. So it was just me and the lecturer who kept saying air-bow instead of above.
"Good evening Hani. Come take your notes Hani."
It's time like this I wish my name is somewhat ... not so friendly.

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