Semester

Its noon on Monday,and the upstairs neighbors are at it.

They're usually active around 3am,when I hear the odd thumping sound in between 5-10 minute intervals.I imagine they both invest more time in foreplay,skimping through penetration half-asleep.The noises don't bother me much,but I'm sure this lust-stricken honeymoon period won't last long.Soon they'll return to their normal sexual pace,but if these wild bunnies breed I'll climb the side of the building like Godzilla with baseball bat in hand and snatch these infants from their cradle,or at least tape their mouths.

Anyway.

Had the business finance (not as bad as it sounds) mid sem this morning,and I think I did pretty well after having my expectations re-adjusted to reality before walking into the exam hall.I think I baintaied about 3/13 questions (which,in retrospect-sounds foolish) but for the others I managed the figures calmly,and am confident I can achieve a decent mark.After,I bumped into a buss finance classmate and one-time lover (if I were a character in a sitcom called "Saucy Diaries of a secret Man-slut")-who informed me that he had dropped the subject two weeks ago.

Because he lost his passport.

And when he said this,I swear it was like being hit in the torso with a stick.I've heard numerous horror stories about people losing their passports,and fellow former classmate A says he lost his to the Australian Post in an attempt to mail said missing item to the US embassy.Apparently getting a new passport takes 6 months,but the application process is in itself a plot for an Excorcist sequel (this time the villian,unveiled in the end to the shock and dismay of audiences worldwide-a lost passport!).He's had to inform a dozen authorities,and overwhelmed by grief and sympathy I didn't really hear what the poor bloke was saying but it was something along the lines of "All the things that I've done here are now-erased",a code or gibberish.

So the lives of you and I,my dear reader-seem not too shabby,put in perspective.We had this thing last Sunday,Fiesta Malaysia-the very definition of mental exhaustion for some of us-I observed two people,who were lacking in some way.The first was a man who visited one of our booths and I happened to be there-all his front teeth were gone but a mischievious grin perservered,his words were slurred and though I was trying my best to be nice I guess the judgement showed on my face-he took my hand into his (covered in ratty,fingerless gloves),and said "Don't judge,have a nice day".The second was during a performance on stage,in the audience I spotted a different-looking teenage girl who swayed her body left and right,stiff fingers open in the air and again-that smile on her face,an object that appeared to be impervious.

So there you have it,a bundle of words sewn carelessly into sentences.



I dig the 6-0s pornstache.

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