Space monkey

Placebo's album turned out to be a really good buy. Very. Brian Molkoooooooooooooooooo ~

Anyway, an announcement. Grace's Maxis number can't receive in Kuching, so she's now using a temporary Celcom number. I'm not too sure about posting the number here...so if you guys want to contact her, leave a message on this post or something. Will be happy to send the number to you.

Blogging in college isn't as fun as blogging at home. Fact. And the library is too far in this rainy weather.

Don't you just LOVE rainy mornings? Unless you have to wake up early every morning for classes. Gah!

Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa ~

Kitsch. I'm still reading The Hours, and Woolf is starting to depress and fascinate me. Clarissa "Dalloway", on the other hand, is turning out to be a really interesting character. A lesbian with several gay friends. Not that it turns me off. I want to watch the movie! Meryl Streep!

So anyway. Things have been pretty quiet lately. Even here. And that defunct - and defunked - Serojian forum.

Death Note:

This is to announce that my blog will be presumed dead in three weeks. Exams are coming up then, I think. Serojian Speak is officially dead. And now I shall end with The Name:

The Internet.

Whaahhahhahaha!

Tak lawak also.

She's born to mesmer ~

On Turning Ten by Billy Collins

The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.

You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.

But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.

This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.

It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.