Monday.

Two oh oh seven.

Wow.

It’s been a really long year, yet everything swept by almost instantaneously. I’ve been racking shit out of my head, trying to come up with plans to celebrate the end of this eventful year. Yet only at my last 20 odd hours did I realise that dang, I just might not be ready to let this go. Like a forlorn love story, an end is imminent. But getting to the end, the build-up cemented with suspense – that’s what really counts.

In 2007, I fell in love, only to realise that I’m not ready to love yet.

In 2007, I made an amazing friend, slabbed brick after brick on the friendship until it was too heavy and everything crumbled.

In 2007, I lost a friend.

In 2007, you happened.

In 2007, I became bulimic for a reason I never really told anyone about.

In 2007, I finally came clean with my parents on my sexuality.

In 2007, my parents, for the first time, despised me for who I am.

In 2007, I witnessed my own family fall into pieces.

In 2007, I picked those pieces up and tried to piece back the family I once knew.

In 2007, my friends threw me the most amazing 18th surprise birthday party that I will never forget.

In 2007, I braved an unsuccessful struggle to bite back my tears on the first few hours of my birthday, along a picturesque setting of a riverside.

In 2007, I had the most drastic haircut of my life.

In 2007, my health took on a new low, and all I could was helplessly watch the uncertainty swallow me.

In 2007, for the first time in my life, I felt liberated.

In 2007, I brushed shoulders with love, truly experienced loss and took a crash course on ‘moving on’. I explored the beauty of anguish and understood that you can never really be happy until you truly are. I moved on – from loss, from the anger and from you. 2007 has witnessed the best and worst for me, at the same time watched me grow to who I have become to this very day.

The end of this year promises another, and I believe that I am ready to love and lose again. I am ready for 2008 to happen, for the introduction of the new and reminiscing of the old.

So for the final goodbye of 2007, it’s to you yourself. Thank you for the fantastic year, albeit mostly excruciating, but hey, what can’t kill you makes you stronger. So with that, thank you, 2007. For you, for everything. I hope I’ve been good enough entertainment, and this entry has certainly been corny.

Adiós Amigo.

Lovingly and grudgingly,
Daniel.

Of nice straight boys, the female ejaculation and dick in vagina sex.

Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
*Darthvader is a really nice boy
Polly the Cracker. says:
Well so am I.
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
who respects girls
Polly the Cracker. says:
……
Polly the Cracker. says:
:\
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
and time-honored values like chastity
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
and uh
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
marriage
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
or something.
Polly the Cracker. says:
Fine.
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
i dont know if he’s still a virgin
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
i suspect he is
Polly the Cracker. says:
How cute.

*obviously not a real name

***

Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
i’ve never squirted during orgasm
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
so that is going to be my 2008 resolution
Polly the Cracker. says:
OK TMI LADY.
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
have great, wonderful, earth-shattering, squirt-producing orgasms
Polly the Cracker. says:
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
its like the in thing now
Polly the Cracker. says:
No it’s disgusting.
Polly the Cracker. says:
You’re disgusting.
Polly the Cracker. says:
The whole bunch of you
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
what, females?
Polly the Cracker. says:
DUH.
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
this coming from the guy who gets cumshots in the eye
Polly the Cracker. says:
That’s art. You can’t argue with art.
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
so is squirting!
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
its feminine evolution
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
its a work of god
Polly the Cracker. says:
No it’s a waste of body functions.
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
you just dont want girls to steal your thunder
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
once we all master the art of ejaculation, guys wont feel special anymore
Polly the Cracker. says:
I’m sure I need to know your inability to ejaculate to make myself feel special.
Le Raine winks (prettily) at you says:
at least special about one aspect in sex.
Polly the Cracker. says:
Dick in vagina sex = bad idea.

Le Raine, Le Raine, I lurb chu.

Even the frying pan cried.

I want to fill the walls of my room with stickmen – big, bald and all. I have three now. One’s smoking, the other’s drunk, and there’s this pair of conjoined twins who are terribly upset. They are living proof that I = never gonna be an artist.

Anyone wants to help me draw?

p.s. Man in photo sings like a girl. Painfully beautiful though.

Paolo love.

Possibly the sexiest thing alive.

New Year Resolutions. (creative title, no?)

I never was a fan of new year’s resolutions. I must admit, it is a good opportunity to put a lid over the old and usher in the new, but I believe ‘moving on‘, as I’d call it, has to be approached on your own terms. You’re never really ready until you are, and that is the beauty of it. But alas, I still make a list religiously every year just in case. I know, what a fraud.

1) Fall in love
…tip my life into an overturned mess, breach my sanity, reduce myself into a whimpering mess of emo, activate self-hate mode, move on, let go and whine about singlehood all over again.

2) Lose the weight
I’ve been ‘the fat kid’ for 16 years, and then ‘the fat gay kid’ for the following two years. I want change, something drastic. I need it and crave it just as badly. So even if I have to purge the living shit out of myself, I will lose that damn weight. Wait and see.

3) Treasure my true friends
For all the times the people who hurt me weren’t there, they were. Some with an arm over my shoulder and a packet of tissue at my dispense, others watching from a distance, keeping me in their prayers. I’m thankful, more than ever. And 2008 is the perfect opportunity for me to take my gratitude and our friendships to a higher level.

4) Do some freelance journalism
You heard me. If you’ve got lobang, hook me up. I’m never going to get anywhere that doesn’t require me to carry plates and suck the customer’s mental cock with a resume plaited with waitering jobs.

5) You.
I’ll leave this part for anyone who’s reading this. Make a resolution, come up with one on the spot if you have to. You achieving the said resolution, would then be mine.

And it is 5.16am on a Friday morning, lazy to continue lah.

2007, change.

Exactly a year ago, I was that boy who saw the end of the year as a reason to party, to indulge in good food and wine, to dissolve myself into the merry crowd and the thumpa thumpa. And of course, the mandatory Christmas sex. I wanted to experience the life of the party, even if it meant watching by the side as envious as an elephant. I wanted the alcohol and cigarettes to drain every last ounce of energy left in me, end the year with a bang and start the new one with a hangover.

Trace back 365 days to this very day, throw me in a group of awesome company, the kind that breeds throwing-my-head-back laughters and excellent conversations, a couple of drinks until I start babbling and I honestly couldn’t ask for more.

Iggy asked me over Sunday morning brunch and severe lack of sleep “if you could use one word to describe this year, what’d it be?”

It was an easy question. There was no doubt about any answer but “change.”

2007 has indeed been an eventful year. Sure, we all change as age ripens. But I believe this year has seen me grew more than any other. I’ve experienced loss in my own way. In love, in life and in friendship. Cultivating a relationship with anyone at all, is indeed, a bitch. I feared loss, so much so that I anticipated it, threshing on the same theory behind why people prepare for natural disasters. I believed that knowing that it will hurt, makes the hurt easier to deal with.

Oh how wrong I was. How fucking wrong.

Knowing that it will hurt crushes any chance that it just might not. And 2007, along with the people I’ve lost to my insecurities, are living, breathing examples of my mistakes.

I’ve also come to terms with coping. People, like you and me both, do stupid, stupid things to deal with misery. It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. But it works. You take your mind away from the stuff that hurts, even if it’s just for a second or two. Sometimes it hurts so much, you’d kill for a second or two for it to stop hurting.

But eventually, it does stop hurting, as far-fetched as it might seem. You’ll gather enough strength to pick yourself up, only to realise that it’s not the same anymore. There’s a hole in what used to be your ever-perfect life. And this hole, nothing that you know at that point of time is going to fit. It’s a big, black circle of nothing and the only way you’re going to fill that hole up – is through change. Through adaption of the doors that have closed and the windows that have opened – you change.

So 2007, has been about change. About adapting to change, about loss and about me. So thank you, to everyone who has stood by me this year, hurt me and watched me picked the pieces back up together.

This entry, is for you.

A little present from me to you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Merry Christmas, y’all.

May the birth of Jesus Christ bring you truckloads of presents and candy-cane induced toothaches.

Lo and behold.

I’m definitely not a sunday morning brunch person. There’s something about the blazing sun and families in matching PJs that just does things to your head.

Look at what happened when I tried to be that person.

 

Mock away.

p.s. I think it’s cute.

Megatron watched me cum.

It’s funny how I can be so oblivious to my surroundings during sex.

I lay blankly on his cheap, uncomfortable mattress which had this slight stench smelt like it was soaked in a cauldron of sweat and smelly socks. I had a wad of cum-soaked tissue in one hand and an imaginary cigarette in the other. (No smoking in the room rule) (Cue rolling eyes.) I looked up at his closet and to my horror/amusement/pick one, I saw this huge-ass model of a transformer staring right down at me, with both it’s plastic arms perched out as if it was ready to blow my head off (pun very much intended) anytime soon.

And when I say huge-ass, I mean the kind that you’d never miss unless you have tumours for eyes.

Okay, at least it seemed comfortingly amusing then.

 

Upon me messaging everyone on the SECRET SANTA present exchange dinner.

I woke up to a sms from Melissa which with no doubt, completely made my day.

“secret santa?!?!?! isnt it secret center?!?! Hahaha loser.”

I’ve never seen black hair so wasted on brains that blonde.