i’m finding it hard not to see him. fuck. i’m aching to go back to mall of asia, purchase a cup of coffee, and in the process have a little conversation with him again. i miss him! i hope he’ll still talk to me when we meet again. come on, he should remember me… he’s the first one who talked to me anyway. i wouldn’t have noticed him in the first place if he didn’t take me into that conversation! it’s his fault. yah, seriously. i miss him baaaaddddlllyyy…. coz apparently, i can barely remember his face anymore. hahaha and it sucks because the feeling is getting bigger and heavier and blaaah. love is really weird. it’s confusing and damn hard to distinguish. i don’t know what it means. wtf i’m not in love. definitely not. this will expire in due time, just like what happened recently, i completely forgot the guy i was online-stalking because of *checks yesterday’s receipt* mike ♥
LoL. oh, about the title. yeah, i received a quote about that once saying one of the reasons we need guys for is to constantly assure that we’re not fugly tramps but something more beautiful. in short, girls are uber insecure and they can’t take their friends/and anyone else’s word for it. why, it’s more credible when a guy says you’re beautiful. much more credible than having to hear it from your mom… who’ll probably still stay you’re the most beautiful girl on earth even when you’ve just walked out of a septic tank. whatever.
aaaah, well actually i’m not trying to say anything at all. i’m just, not sure of the term, love-sick, whatever that means. i hate to call myself like that, especially that it’s just a little (maybe a bit more) crush. and come on, everybody loves starbucks baristas. roight.
and so i introduce to you another doodle in the making, the title: ‘parker doodle’. really. it’s lame i know. hah, it would’ve been lamer if i called it ‘Mike’ since he’s the once who inspired me in this big time and if not for him, that (bottom) piece of paper will be empty. why parker? ah, because i’m using a parker ballpen for it and believe me… if this would’ve been an ordinary ballpen, you’ll throw it out with utter hate and remorse but because it’s a parker… you’ll feel sorry for the 350 bucks you paid for it and the shiny metal plating tearily pleading “please don’t throw me, my ink may have disappointed you but wouldn’t my shiny silver dress with golden laces make up for it?”. the ink sucks. i have to retrace the linearts one two many times just to make it visible to the human eye… i’m just putting up with it because it’s a freakin parker. and it’s my dad’s. parker ballpens have gone cheaper now that Cross is enjoying the spotlight, locked behind the clear glass sheves of National Bookstore for everyone to gape upon. just that.
alright, on to my doooooodle. it’s not yet finished. i’ll post the finished thing soon… =)
