Am I What I Am (lll)

I am not a good guy. I steal, I lie, I gossip, I jealous, I have poor emotion management, I am fussy, I am lazy, I am not good at anything except being invisible.

I did not pay attention in class. I liked to stare at Dr. Mohan’s nose, Prof. Marya’s tie, Prof. Smales’s hair, Prof. Comfort’s jaw, Aimee’s new dress, how Sabrina tied her hair and play with Han Sern’s recorder.

I jack off when I lose control. Some guys feel so ashamed to admit it. Come on. This is part of our NORMAL life. We NEED it. Even girls also need it ok.

I don’t know how to behave myself as a university-year 2 student. Talk about politics? economic tribulation? I just know how to make 3 years old baby cries.

I think soccer players have the sexiest thigh and bum. So I am working hard on my thigh. My mum always complains I have no arse.

Sometimes I don’t don a smile on my face and sauntering around the campus alone. I just want to hear how my heart says about me. People just don’t get it and keep guessing the badass who provokes me.

My mum needs my company when we do shopping even she is buying lingerie or knickers. Seriously I am abashed surrounding by those sexy-big tits-lips-biting models advertisements.

I am curious women do blowjob for their own pleasure or for the men.

I learnt How to Speak Scottish Accent in YouTube. I failed.

I always want an elder brother. So he can share some things with me. Or teach me some THINGS that my dad doesn’t want to talk about. Lalala…

I like to play sliding board more than swing.

Omelette is my favourite food.

I never ask a girl out for a date.

I sleep with tight boxer short, or sometimes I naked, only when I am alone in room ok. My friend once thought I sleep with swimming trunks.

I googled ‘how to shout’. I don’t know. My shout is so not the real shout.

My mum always asks me to be like those holy teenagers who spent most of their time in church. I just want to ask them: Do you feel guilty when you watch porn?

I have never been in a Starbucks.

I believe in Aliens.

Everytime my mum scolds me, I feed her plants with the soup she cooks.

I was sitting in library and dreamed about AIMST chose me to be the model of those poorly-colours-matched brochures and some model companies spotted me and sponsored me to take part in American Top Model. Then I won and walking on the red carpet with Kate Winslet. Ok. I am a little carried away. And by the way, it’s Hollywood red carpet.

I hate reunion. It does not mean I hate my friends.

Cute-cute, the goldfish at home is not the same goldfish that my grandma gave me to look after when she went to Singapore.

I am afraid to go out with California-people. Kampong-Hang Tuah-people suits me better.

Seriously I’ll give a big slap if my partner talks to me in the babyish-act cute-coquetry tone.

I always have the impulse to put my plate upside down in front of Jaya Catering workers for giving me a nostril size chicken piece.

I used to hug my friends a lot which I think it is a kind of love and power teleport but they think it is sickness, sexual harassment. Fuck you. Experts proved that it is good for health you big moron.

This is extremely true and weird. I make the same dream everytime I get high fever.

I have 7 bags in my wardrobe. Too much?

I’ve never done anything to make my parents proud of me. Never.

Honestly I like Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton. I don’t know why people hate them.

I like to notice people who is clearing their nostrils and where do they hide the shit.

If you can’t be honest with your friends and loved ones, then what is life all about?

Am I What I Am (ll)

I have secrets.
Of course I do.Everyone has secrets.
I’m not talking about huge, universe-shattering secrets.
Not the-aliens-are-coming-and-only-lady gaga-can-save-us type secrets.
Just little, normal, stupid secrets.

I like Cameron Diaz’s smile. It’s Sexy. Julia Robert’s is different. I call it Mercy.

I am 179cm. Not 180 like what I told everyone. And to be fair, it’s only 1 cm different.

I am afraid of the dark, always have been. I can’t stop thinking is there really a red dress ghost combing her fucking long hair behind me when the light is off.

I got the scar by falling into a big stink ditch because my neighbour kids dare me.

I hate to go church during Christmas.

I sometimes sit in lecture room and think, why are those people raise their fucking hands up? Put it down. I want to leave.

The dumpling that JH’s mother made was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted. I threw it into toilet bowl and flushed it and I told her mum that was delicious. Then she gave me more. I shouldn’t lie.

Sometimes, when I am in the swimming pool, I suddenly want to naked-swim.

I once had this weird gay dream about my “somebody”.

I’ve always had this deep-down conviction that I’m not like everybody else, and there’s an amazingly exciting new life waiting for me just around the corner.

May be I’ll crush into Prof. Smales and then I help him to pick up those files spread over the floor then he invites me to spend my 6 weeks holidays in London.

There was once I sat in gallery, looking at Ron, KK, Daozuo, Andy, Jeanette, Aimee, XL, Sabrina and Peta. Wow. They are so Manhattan-people. Then the very-Idaho-me secretly named them --“Swan People”.

I don’t know what G-spot is.

I twitter recently and I fake my identity as a sunny-hunky-blonde boy from Cardiff.

I am still a virgin. Does ‘virgin’ works on male?

I always want to apologize to Ms A, B and C but I never. Sorry. Actually I knew how you three nice girls felt/feel about me. I am just not so into a new relationship. And Mr. Z, thanks for asking me out on a date. I’ll call you if I turn gay.

My Nike bag is fake, rm15 from pasar malam.One of my friend said my nike bag looks gorgeous so he bought a same one (according to him) from the nike shop.It cost him rm4x.xx and he told me he was lucky because it was cheap.

Just now dinner time, when my dad said, “What are you thinking about?” and I said,” Oh, nothing,” that wasn’t quite true. I was actually wondering how I will look like if my mum married a Scottish.

I always wishing there is some Scottish and Swedish running in my blood stream. Scottish and Swedish mixed will be the sexiest, for me. You know that kind of blonde hair and crystal blue eyes.

Am I What I Am

Bravura show, by John Barrowman.
At least I do think so.
The lyric is obtrusive and meaningful.

Candidly I know myself quite well. I really do.
I know what I want.
I know what I love.
And I know who I am born to be.
Notwithstanding, there is still a HUGE catastrophic fiasco in myself.

I AM NOT WHAT I AM.
This is ludicrous.
I am just the doll that the society wants,
the doll that my parent expecting me to be.
Environment is deciding for me
what to do, where to go.
I know this is absurd.
But this is me.

People just can’t see the ripple undulating in my heart.
Struggle.
Contemplation.
Not their faults though because I let it happen.

My parent determined my future.
Yes you are right.
Dentistry is not my choice. And it’ll never be.
My mum pushed me to physic tuition when finally I got my only chance to learn piano.
My dad sent me to boarding school when I found a teacher who was kindly enough to teach a 12 years old boy some painting stuffs.

And I ended up don’t know anything about art and music except those F=ma and how to stay with 20 students in a room.
Not the time for fingers pointing
I know they want to give me the best.

I don’t really want to be a dentist.
*but i would love to consider the wage
I hate biology. I swear.
I never score A for biology.
I won the Senior Math Champion, ACCIDENTALLY.
Gosh. I hate math so much.
I joined the competition because they would give us hamper if the whole class takes part.
I don’t like wedding dinner.
But my parent keep saying I need to meet those relatives.
“wah..so pandai ah..mau jadi doctor ah..”
“wah..so tall now. Remember last time you were so small bla bla bla..”

Ok.I have no idea how to continue. Dammit.

WannaBeDiarylll

Today is the 97582724935721 years. In Azkaban.
Yes. The prison.

The gates clanked.
Squinting through the dim moonlight, I could barely see few silhouettes were headed towards me.
Who the hell are they?

Spy? Maniac?
Is this their clandestine fraud to get the map?
Curiosity is pricking my scalp.

A faint apprehension flickered across my complexion.
I saw the trademark thunder scar at the side of his forehead.
Harry Potter.
Another two must be his companions, Hermione and Ron.
And the rest, must be Death Eaters.

Those Death Eaters jostled three of them into the narrow passage.
Ron seemed somewhat loath to stride over.
In high dudgeon, Hermione kept repeating those spells which apparently she was just wasting her energy.
I flinched at the corner as they were approaching me.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Obscuro .”
Great job, muggle. It blocked those dementors’ vision completely.
“Expecto Patronum.”
This was the second thing they did once they step into my cell.
Bravo.
“Evanesco. “Vanishing Spell.
They hid their wands well.

Dementors started making commotion now.
A shudder of fear ran through everyone.
Yes. They were sucking their happiness, again.

“You show great composure infront of dementors. They cause no harm to you? Where is your patronus? Who are you?” Hermione stood, contemplating something in her small brain.

“Well. Frankly, I am impressed, Ms Granger. Brilliant.” I continued before she butt in, “I am...”

“You are vampire!” Hermione blurted out.

“Why not you shout it louder so that the Death Eaters can hear you and then you can become the vampire murderer at the next moment indirectly?” But my indignation plummeted at the next second because this was just a blunder. Everyone has this response when they met the vampire in their life for the first time.

“I don’t understand.” Ron kept a wary eye on me, asking in a disquieting tone. I can see the muss flickering in his eyes.

"Because I am dead. I have no thought.Nobody ever realizes it. Those dementors either. The pangs of agony showing on my face was just a play. Now you understand Mr.Westley and...Mr.Potter. Nice to meet you.By the way, I am clementander Skarsgard." I explained in a rather lackadaisical tone, nonchalantly.

Jinxx..

“Harry! Look at his canines!” Ron was agog.

“Gosh. To be more precise, it’s fang.” Seriously his idiosyncrasy put my patience on the ebb, “A penny for your thought Harry.”

“No. I am thinking..emm..nothing.” Harry gave me a sweet beam, hastily.

“I know what is in your mind Harry. Prison Break. I’ll help you.” I whispered.

“This is insane and impossible. There is no way you can escape from Azkaban and the bizarre building structure.” Hermione was trying to thwart Harry.

“But I can’t let Voldemort kill everyone outside there. I am the chosen one to hamper the catastrophe.” Harry showed his pertinacious conviction.

“Listen. This is ludicrous. You really think you can get out of here? Those Death Eaters reconstruct the whole shield and they curse on it. ” Ron asked in a tinge of anxiety.

Staring quizzically at the window, I replied:“Of course you can if you design the prison…”

-----to be continued.more spells.more adventures.more dangerous----

*ideas taken from harry potter.prison break.true blood.
I am honest boy I swear.

WannaBeDiaryll

I just finished bathing.
My assistant sent me my schedule for tomorrow, while I am still rubbing my hair and haven't get the chance to put my pyjamas up.
Fuck! What a hectic day I am having.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

8.00 am
- play basketball with chace crawford, zac efron.

10.00 am
- pay suri a visit which you promised her last year.

11.30 am
- new movie characters discussion co-star
george clooney, blake lively, emma watson



2.35 pm
- advertisement photo section with david beckham, michael phelps


6.00 pm
- new album songs recording.featuring lady gaga.

9.30 pm
- dinner with wentworth miller, mischa barton

11.00 pm

-clubbing time.
lindsay lohan, megan fox, jude law, eminem

---------------------------------------------------------
I don't really appreciate this kind of life.
But what to do.
I am renowned celebrity.