Seriously, I think sooner or later, when someone fails his/her exam, they're gonna put the blame on Jews.
*Cough*
Moving on.
Anyways, I had this chat with this old fuck I knew before. You know how it goes after awhile, all you can actually think of is 'How's life'. I mean, as everybody sighs and goes 'You haven't talked to her in awhile you should have a fuckload to talk about...' I say fuck that, how can you have something to talk about with someone whom you haven't contacted in years and even have anything to talk about? It's fucken preposterous innit? Unless its a close friend or some shit then at least you can ask bout how his/her granddaddy got caught under debris or how his/her sister ran away from home in the arms of a transvestite and still... You'll run out of topics in a jiffy. And then there's that awkward silence that descends and you (I) appear offline. You know, just to avoid complications. Digression. It's morning.
Where was I? Oh yes.
So this friend of mine she found me through
witchcraft and bad voodoo magic a mutual acquaintance and we talked for awhile. And somehow... There wasn't that awkward bitchin' 'ball of hay being blown by the wind' moment. We just... talked. Or she did. Oh yeah, she did. Anyways, it irritated me somehow. I mean, it was against the tide of reality, people don't just pop up from the past and chat as if they never left. The very fact that she had so much shit to talk about fucking freaked me out. It's like she was caught in a void in which time was nothing but a figment of the imagination and when she re-emerged from said void... She was the same
hot fucking person. Nothing changed.
I have no idea why I'm even writing this shit. Reminiscing me thinks. Of those days when I used to throw oranges from the 37th floor with her and see who can hit the gaylords below or walk around in KL at 3 in the fucking morning because we
were too fucking cheapskate to take the taxi had no money or harass the fucken cashier at bookstores because they couldn't spell the names of authors... It brought me back to days before this. Before all this. And fuck it you bitch, why didn't you invite me into that damn fucking void. Fuck. FUCK.
You know, fuck it, can't dwell on the past now ey... What's done is done, no hard feelings and heck, you still owe me a fuckload.
JS: Fuck those were good days...
Me: Guess they were. In comparison to now, that is, there'd prolly be more awesomer times otw.
JS: Faggot, you can't blame me for the huge nuclear explosion. You know as well as I do that there aint shit we could've done about it.
Me: Hmmm... I'm curious, does that mean I can put the blame solely on you? Cause that'd be pretty fucken awesome looking at how you exposed a tinge of guilt there woman.
JS: You're a fucking pussy, the only time that you can blame me on what happened is if I come up with this new theory on how it actually did happen because of me. You blame yourself, think I don't know that? And no, for the fact, I'm not telling you to stop feeling that way. I somehow enjoy the thought of you in deep depression. Anybody told you it makes you a lot more tolerable?
Me: Funny, I don't remember myself crying like a retard at the fucking balcony now do I... Oh wait, wasn't that you? Suicide ideations, thoughts of running away, hmmm... It all kinda points to you... And fuck you, if I'm happy, the world will brighten up and subsequently crumble upon itself.
JS: Cibai, I was undergoing a phase that day, it might ring a bell in your feminine brain; it's called menstruation. You know, the one you stopped by consuming lots and lotsa coffee?
Me: How do you not expect me to call you a fucking retard when 1, You think that coffee does that shit and 2,
JS: 2?
Me: Scratch that, 1 is enough to prove the world of your lack of brain cells.
JS: Well at least what I lack in fucking douchebaggery, I compensate with the ability to stay true to my words and pure courage. Unlike you faggoty cocksucker.
Me: Only those who lack a few segments of their brain including the fucking limbic system looks at intelligence as douchebaggery. And you? True to your fucking word? Please la babe, dont make me fucking go there.
JS: Aww, you called me babe. See, your gay-feminism is clawing out of you. Now who wants some pink undies?
Me: It was a figure of speech. Fucktard.
JS: Hi Awak :D
Me: ................. Don't start. You expand that and I swear on everything holy that I will fucking ban you from everything that involves me.
JS: Can you fucking chill the fuck out ah? Besides, it's a figure of speech.
Me: I'm gonna start laughing now.
JS: I'll prolly join.
JS: I miss you.
Me: Again, don't start. Shit's over woman, and believe me, saying this is fucking hard even for me.
JS: I'm flattered. Ah well, we had a pretty awesome time didn't we?
Me: Haha, hell yeah... Hell yeah...
JS: You're not feeling anything are you?
Me: Meaning?
JS: No pink tears flowing? No pink hanky by your side?
Me: Uh. Do I need to pour ketchup over my head?
JS: Hahaha! Nah, we're way past that, kan awak?
Me: I swear...
JS: Wordplay bitch, get used to it. Oh well, it's reassuring to see you're the same fucking asshole from before. Don't change kay?
Me: Again, you can't tell me what to do.
JS: I know I can't, I'm just telling you your future. You're always gonna be that bitching asshole in the corner, its inevitable. And make sure you get someone just like me in the future, I can tell you're having so much fun :D Don't cry over me too much aight?
Me: Yeah, I'll try. Go away.
JS: So will I. Heh. I won't come back to you, you know that right?
Me: If I didn't I wouldn't have started this shit in the first place.
JS: I need a bigger smiley.
Me: I'm going to bed.
I raise my glass with menstruating-stopping coffee to you. Thanks. And bye for that matter.
Fuck you and your hankies.