Saturday, May 21, 2005

nicotine fix

I think I found a form of salvation for my wretchedness. “sigaret” :D it’s such a cliché but somehow having a few rounds of smoke seems to miraculously strip me of my garbage whims. I kinda feel good. So THIS is what nicotine does to people. NOW I know why people get addicted to smoking. Tonight has been real good. Lindsay Lohan on repeat (hohoho yes, you heard that right ;D) and 5 sticks of DJarum “kretek”. I’m on this funny buzz and this makes work so much easier. So so much easier. I actually now ENJOY doing my learning issue and might have even some vigor left over to do some minor thesis typing. And this NEVER happens. Every time I light up, it worries me that I’m putting myself at high risk for cancer, infertility etc but I strike that match anyway. It’s like “Ah what the f*ck!!” I still don’t smoke in my room just as yet because I dislike the post-puff whiff that might taint my clothes which helps or I’d be finishing packets by myself in hours! So right now all puffing is currently done at either Miss KosKos’ or Miss MasMas’s or Miss KhaiKhai’s. I think if any of our parents ever find out their little girls have been doing ciggies, they’d go ballistic. I never thought I’d ever do cigarettes. I guess I never thought I’d do a lot of things… like medicine. Hah.

Also I never thought I’d have the discipline to lose weight. And I think I kinda am. Sometimes I can’t wait for the evenings so I can do my evening runs. I still hate it but I look forward to it. Don’t know how to explain this phenomena. Hate it but want it. Kinda like bad boys I suppose. I’m in a plateau. This means nothing seems to be happening to the weight-loss scheme. I have to take a more drastic approach. Starting from tomorrow is a very strict diet control. I still have not been too strict with my food intake. There’s still the greedy child in me. The one who’d finish an entire cake or the whole box of doughnuts. That size 10 Topshop slacks must must must hang from my hips by the end of June. At present times, it’s snug on my waist. NOT GOOD ENOUGH. And that collarbone MUST protrude like sticks off my chest. And that sternal notch must hole in so deeply I could hold a guli inside it. If there’s one thing that I really feel reflects on beauty is an evident pelvic bone and a demure décolletage. I’ve dropped 2 bra size. I think I’m a B cup now. It sucks because I really love my D cups but I suppose something’s gotta give. I don’t see my bloody waist dropping inches like the stock market. F*ck.

I’m thoroughly in love with this Matthew Williamson spring/summer ’05 frock. (I HEART MW as in the I HEART HUCKABEES). It’s rainbow printed with silver stars. I thought it had a white base but when I assessed it a little more closely at another site, it had a more yellow tone to it. It doesn’t look as great as I thought before but it’s a best-seller so it still tops my list anyway. I suppose I have to say goodbye to my Blumarine number. It’s too late now to try finding for it. I really need to graduate quick or even the Matthew Williamson number would be obsolete. It’s not just the dress. I really need this recognition. The validity that I have not been wasting my youth these 4, 5 years. And for all the nights I cried myself to sleep, for the years I lived in animosity, for the months I curl myself up in bed to escape the loneliness, it’s been all worth the pain. That I actually achieved something in my life because till now when I try to recollect any form of real academic accomplishment in my territory, the list’s blank.

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