Stripped

I have this corner at home I call the Emo Chair. It’s where I lay my ass when I’m, well, emotional. It often comes with whatever leftover food I can find, be it dry cereal, plain peanut butter straight from the jar, mouldy bread…(trust me, it tastes the same HAHAA). So last night I found some oreo &Momster’s leftover coke from 7eleven. It was damn diluted luh, wth. But hey, when you’re emotional, it doesn’t make a difference.

I ate for the sake of eating anyways. Something to occupy my hands with. Otherwise I’d scare my family members if they happen to go to the kitchen. Imagine: “ELA? WTF YOU DOING IN THE KITCHEN…IN THE DARK??????” HAHAHA. HAPPENED BEFORE, CAN?????

So I was sitting there last night luh. Feeling like a piece of crap. It was a bit after midnight I think. But I remembered going to sleep an hour later, with a stupid smile on my face HAHA. THANKS EH, RASHEEDI. Thanks for ..reminding me. Of stuff. Of the simple yet beautiful things in life.

I come to the weirdest people for help. Ok, not weird luh But it’s definitely not an obvious option. But this is rare. Going to people for help is something I’ve NEVER done. Not that I’m fucking arrogant; truth is idk how to cry for help. I grew up without any. I simply HAD to. DIE DIE I HAVE TO. &there wasn’t anyone to hold my hand, to tell me everything’s going to be awright. I had to be the one telling people it’s awright. That’s how it’s been for me all these fucking years. How I cope? I just do. By myself. Crazy, ain’t it? So you can look at this in two ways. 1)I’m SUPERWOMAN(to my Kaku boys, at least) &2)I’m terribly fucked up &I need to start making use of my social support. I’m not being fair to my friends who care about me, am I not?

Today I stopped being Superwoman, &I cried for help.

A Jihad for Love

There was this one time, Aisya Farid was saying, rather melodramatically, yet I could feel some truth in it: “This is what happens when I look at guys! I end up heartbroken. I think I’ll just keep my eyes on girls luh!”

“EH! No!” &Zaf went into this shit about how there’s hope or something. Being Zaf, she was all hyper &animated, arms all over the place trying to drive her point home. Whereas I on the other hand, the complete opposite. Serene, calm &quiet. Though all I did was raised my palm up surreptitiously for a quick, (&discreet) high-five. Low-five, really. Aisya Farid totally got me, man. &when her palm hit mine in a loud, defiant smack, it was like a silent victory. Thank you for joining the club, please come again.

&on the topic of homosexuality…