Done Deal December

My shrunken brain concluded that your arrival at this page could only be motivated by your interest in what I have done today. Let me enlighten you. I have been very pretentious today. Basically, all I did was cleaning ( /'kli:nɪŋ/ verb, noun, noun: 1. the act of making something free of dirt or mess  2. a pointless cycle of time and energy wastage  3. a very non-JessMinn-compatible human obligation) Not only I did the laundry, I also cleaned my war-zone-inspired room and washed the toilet. I even put up the curtains. It's an accomplishment. I wish people (my mother) won't judge people by their room and toilet.

Handing up my paper to the invigilator yesterday officiated the end of my 'miserable KDU life'. This I quote from a friend, I promise. Indeed, it is more than obvious that I despised that place. Everyday and every bit of it. In fact, much of my anger towards life has been cultivated from it. But that's another story to tell, which I probably won't. Now that this horrendous semester and everything that came along is over, I can finally sleep without having to set 10 alarms before and resume carrying out my regular life events.

Watch series. Reply messages. Eat. Sleep. Pretend to fight the urge to eat. Eat.

Oh by the way do expect an eulogy for my 4.0 some time soon.

7-Hours-Away-From-Exam Thoughts

Yo.

I just want to take this moment to remind everyone out there to constantly surround themselves with people who truly cares for them, who they can feel absolutely comfortable and happy with, because at the end of the day these are the people who brings meaning to your life. Do the things you like, the things that make you happy, because if you don't, who else can do it for you? You want to be happy. As ironic as that may sound from me.

Roll tide.

Life dismissed.

Falls asleep.

Wakes up, turns the light off. Continues sleep.

Decides to wake up. Curses phone alarm.

Spends day eating. Spends day on assignment.

Falls asleep.

Wakes up, curses self, spends day on assignment.

Eats every hour. Curses self. Pleads God to let me die.

Eyes fried.

20 minutes nap.

Falls asleep.

Wakes up, curses self, curses phone alarm.

Curses the entire existence of life.

Goes to college. Numbness takes over.

Redeems Starbucks. Buys McDonald's.

Pleads God not to let me die. Accepts that I will die.

Updates blog.

I'm a horrible person.

Presenting my story

Gun. I need a gun.

Come on.

Journey

Well, just the occasional hey hello still alive post.

Also the wow it's November already post.

Plus a bunch of crappy crap from me which you always find confusing and difficult to understand.

Truth is, I, too, find myself confusing and difficult to understand. I am as lost as a sheep. But hey, I'm nineteen now, no excuses. Mistakes are unforgivable at this stage. I am supposed to do things right, I am supposed to know how things run in life. I am also supposed to run my life the best I am capable of. But just how does one know what they are capable of if they remain at the same old spot, never stepping out, never taking risks? My father would say, 'never take risks'. My father would say, 'take the safe path'. He is the wisest man I've ever come by, so when our views on life collided, I began to wonder whether I'm thinking a little too much about it. Maybe I will be happy after all. Maybe things will turn out great. Maybe things will turn out better than great, because this is just what I needed to believe. Maybe things will turn out greater than great, because I don't want to live in fear that I might wake up some twenty years later, regretting and hating myself for the decisions I made when I was merely twenty.

When did we all become adults?

Monday Morning Madness

11:14AM. At last, I drag my heavy self out of bed, after countless attempts of denying reality - an act very clearly represented by the red multifunctioned snooze button. This pair of feet is taking forever to reach the bathroom. Reluctant, I brush my teeth and walk into the shower. Now the most annoying part. I do not know what to wear, again. When will I ever know what to wear? I proceed with my boring Monday routine by making a sandwich out of duty rather than hunger. Hunger does not motivate me the way an expiry date does. In fact, nothing in this world motivates me more than an expiry date does. And sandwiches are very convenient. I could live with sandwiches for the rest of my life, ah, yes I could. There is no need to learn to cook. I do just fine with sandwiches. Here's to yet another meaningless Monday.


11:14AM. I gather all the courage I possess and brave myself to face this world, yet again, for another day. Stretttttttcccching is the first thing I do, for it activates all these vital organs needed to make today count. I brush my teeth full with enthusiasm, twice, and get into the shower. After one full minute of staring into the closet, I come to the decision that perhaps I would figure out something later. Brunch is the best part of the day, oh, it will always be. Despite my lousy cooking skills, I carefully and patiently fry some eggs and make a sandwich out of it. One of these days, I will be an excellent cook. Here's to embracing all the possibilities in the future, here's to making every day count.


11:14AM. Flunk, I screamed in my head, with a silent 'L' and 'N', and quickly jumped out of bed. Forget about stretching, forget about living healthy. I am going to die someday anyway. I carelessly brush through my teeth and stomp right into the shower. I hate taking my shower. I hate how taking my shower acknowledges my presence in this world today, I hate how it means that I officially agree to wake up and get things done. What's the point of showering anyway? It's a never-ending, time-consuming, useless process. And it comes with the part where I have to decide on what to wear for the day. Great. Do I look like I like to decide things? Gosh, I hate taking shower so much. Then there's lunch I need to think about. Oh, how convenient that a loaf of soon-to-expire bread is laying on the table. Or else I would have let myself starve to death. What's the point of eating anyway? Please, I would rather sleep. Well here's to wasting my entire day, or you know, wasting my entire life, taking showers and all.


11:14AM. I have lived to see this beautiful world for yet another day. Oh thank You, Lord. Life is beautiful. Everything is beautiful. I hop out of bed with an overwhelming amount of excitement, embracing what this world has to offer me today. Looking at my sweet little green toothbrush makes me happy and thankful for this life. It also makes me want to brush my teeth forever, but I know that that cannot happen, for there is so much more form of happiness to experience in life. For instance, taking my shower. Oh, such joy! Begone, all the bacteria! Begone, all my pains and sorrows! It's a brand new day, a brand new start, a brand new me! I open my closet, and I am spoilt for choice. All these gorgeous, happy colours happening here, oh, how am I to pick only one? I am truly blessed. And then I get to eat. Ah, eating, the art of staying alive. I do my best in making use of all I have in the kitchen, and behold, a magnificent egg sandwich appears. At this moment, nothing feels better than being able to put up one gorgeous, delicious sandwich. Here's to everything beautiful in life, and more to come.


11:14AM. Good gracious, half a morning wasted. Why is this happening again. How do I redeem myself. Great, just great. I brush my teeth and take my shower hurriedly, in hope of adding more ticks to my imaginary day clock. Done. My day has begun. I am ready for this day, I am ready for this day. Quick, just grab a piece. But which piece do I grab? This makes me look fat. This makes me look short. JUST SIMPLY PUT SOMETHING ON FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. Right. Something to fill my stomach. I miss my regular oats and Koko Krunch combo. But there is a loaf of bread and some eggs in the kitchen, a combination not easy to come by. Well, an egg sandwich it is. It requires little effort yet it satisfies my desire for good food. Simple. Just please don't fail on the egg. How difficult can frying an egg be? Come on. A rather generous amount of butter, a very low flame. Yes, Jess Minn, you're a genius. Here's to waking up earlier next Monday.

Exciting and Inspiring

MY SISTER bought me a mighty box of Hello Panda biscuits. It is exciting and inspiring. I am probably telling you this because I cannot find anything else in this room happier than the colourful confetti and the party hats imprinted on the box. Unless you think I am the happiest thing in this room, which would be something near criminal to think about. It is just that wrong. I am nineteen and I still take more than five centuries to decide what to pick from menus. I don't like to talk to people because I think that they just lie all the time. I want to make things better but I don't believe in things any more. My life, this being, is that wrong. And it worries me a lot. It worries me so much I will take up hours worrying tiny, possibly insignificant things like this instead of worrying about what's coming in the nearer future, such as the quiz I am to take in less than seven hours' time. And then I will try worrying about bigger things. Picturing, hoping a little. Where will  I be in January? Will I be pursuing my Degree course already? Will I be spending some time back home learning how to cook? Or will I still be wearing my green apron? At some point before I sleep, I would often recall what someone inspiring had once said about being in one's own world. I guess I have gradually accepted that that's where I have been a really long time now, because no one can understand me any more, not even myself - because I hate talking to people. But my sister bought me a mighty box of Hello Panda biscuits.

Point blank

I don't like people. I don't like to talk to people. Once upon a time I loved people and treated people the way I want to be treated, but after some time it became clear to me that things simply do not work that way. People can be everything and anything. Fake, stupid, ignorant, just like me. The more I talk to people, the more of myself I am surrendering to them. My time, my thoughts, my trust. No. I cannot afford that any more. These little pieces left are to be kept, not to be manipulated and possibly shredded into nothingness . Of course I meet wonderful people at times, but that's that. God bless them, and I move on with my life with the very few I keep close to. Because the more people I have, the more people I have to lose. So no. I don't want to care any more. I don't want to get close to people. I don't want to talk. I doubt I even know how to talk now. Sometimes I feel empty. Sometimes I want to give people the benefit of the doubt. But I wouldn't. Because I don't like people. But this must stop.

Here I go again

KUALA LUMPUR: Author of this sad, abandoned blog, Jess Minn, decides to create a new post on a Friday evening, after her ambitious attempt of reading through every single sentence in the Sales of Goods Act 1957.

Needless to say, she failed.

She got out from her chair after a torturous hour of carrying out the act of 'studying', only to find herself nowhere to go. Without much consideration, she turned on the TV and started munching on some peanuts, her latest source of protein.

Sometimes she would be saddened by the fact that she cannot cook. Other times she would be saddened by the fact that she still cannot cook.

Shortly after she decided to stop eating, she got a call from her sister. She missed her call and in order to return her sister's call, she had to restart her very, very unintelligent smartphone, an activity she had been very actively engaged in lately, because most of the time her unintelligent smartphone would lose its sense (of touch, but what's the difference anyway).

In the conversation with her sister, she discussed her inability and reluctance to study and many other unnecessary topics. The conversation ended with two agreements, of which both parties were pleased of. First, her sister would transfer some rewards into her Starbucks card, because she needs them that badly. Second, she was permitted an hour on the computer, also because she needed it that badly.

Her permit expired 24 minutes ago.

I'm staring at a lamp.

Hi.

I have been meaning to write something here, over and over, but I guess at the end of the day it would all be pointless if I cannot even produce something worth reading.

I would love to write about Japan, but its just going to remind myself of how stupid I am.

I could have written about my (now) semi-annual haircut, but that would also remind myself of how stupid I am.

I wanted to introduce Charlie, but again, there is also a stupid story behind it.

So maybe not today.