I can't believe I'm calm about this.

Someone insulted my writing (a fanfic which I wrote a year or two ago, didn't put in much effort, as can be seen by the grammar), by saying it was too descriptive and that I want everyone 'to copy my style'.

Tch.

That's like saying you want to copy William Shakesspeare's style.

All this because I read someone's work, didn't like it, commented on the grammar and spelling, fussed about the punctuation, and groused about the plot.

Even the china students in my class can write TEN THOUSAND TIMES better than that crap.

Don't ask me whay I read it in the first place. Those who know me will understand that I generally HATE reading something and dropping it halfway, because I believe everything has potential, no matter how 'emo' or bad it is.

SO, CHINA STUDENTS, JIA YOU IN YOUR ENGLISH!!!

Anyway, all I have to say is that that work has scarred my eyes forever. No wonder authors like that are on cyberspace, they are encouraged by rabid fangirls/bimbos who flunk everything and moan about "OMG THAT GUY IS SO CUTE!!!111!"

Not all fangirls are like that, but the really deluded ones are girls who argue who is L's destined wife (from death note).

Gosh, they'd better not meet me in real life or I'll smack them with a grammar book for primary fours, as well as a guide on how to punctuate your sentences targeted at Primary threes.

I shall not be bothered by petty people.

I mean, come on, it's common sense that not everyone will like your works right? 'One man's meat is another's poison', deal with it. I know I'm ugly, egoistical, a bitch in mornings, have chicken scratach as handwriting, insecure, too opinionated, materialistic (so many faults, I wonder how my friends put up with me).

No one is perfect. I know I'm nopt. No one's writing is the epitome of excellence. Some harmonions (Yeah, I hope you aren't trying to butter me up) say that my english is good, but I think I can be better.

I'm not an english expert. I'll like to think myself as one, but sadly, I'm not. The bloody letter from the ministry has not arrived. I probably didn't get in.

Just asking (yes, I'm probably talking to myself here).

Would you rather people tell you the ugly truth so you can rectify your mistake or would you rather people tell you warm, pretty lies?

I'd rather people tell me the truth. 'Do to others what you want others to do unto you'. I'm simply giving you a favour.

Tell me if you prefer warm pretty lies. Then I recommend going to the sluts or ass-kissers, so you can have all the warm lies you want.

P.S. I deny I'm angry. I however, do NOT deny that I have an insatiable appetite for chocolate.

Sigh.

It's near the end of march.

The start of cherry-blossom viewing in Japan, and the withering of my soul's flower.

I guess I've known it all along. That it has been an unattainable dream, and I am not allowed to get in contact with it.

I failed the year before to get in the school I wanted. Now I failed to get what I want.
I've waited patiently for that day to come, the day my application will be posted to me. I waited till the end.

Is this what I get at the end? Happiness, anticipation, anxiety : All of it to end in a twist of sorrow.

I've worked so hard then, slaving away at rhyming. Only to FINALLY find the website and realise that the criteria was:
Sense of form
Precision with language
Truthfulness of feeling
Originality of thought and imagination
Sensitivity to the world at large

It came too late.

Form was gone, stripped to its barest skeleton. Sensivity to the world at large? Can they at least show me a wee bit of sensivity and give me a rejection letter instead of leading me on and allowing me to hope? Truthfulness of feeling? How truthful are they? All along I've heard that the governemnt is very honest and caring about its people. Isn't this too cruel? Not even giving me a sign that they've heard and read my works?

And what about mmy friends? I pretty much wear everything on my sleeve (or personal message, stating that I am in the corner of woe and not to disturb) and they could CARE FRIGGIN' LESS AND ASK ME ABOUT WHAT BLOODY COLOUR IS THE MATH FILE.

I'm feeling bad enough as it is, don't burden me further ok?! I'm not someone you simply ask what the homework is then ignore me! I'm not a robot, I have emotions too! So STOP being a temerarious creature and LEAVE ME ALONE to my quietus!

Oh, yeah, I'm drowning in my own grave of self pity. So leave me be. Like I've said before, maybe I don't have any friends at all, because they mysteriously disappear when I need them.

At most, I'll pull through life myself. It's just a one-time thing.

Don't pretend to like my because you pity me. I hate pity. I detst it, and will NOT be pitied. I'd rather be an outcast driven to point of suicide then be pitied and not know anything.

Everything came too late.

Smile bitter linger upon my lips.

http://alabaster-soul.blogspot.com/

Just a link. It contains musings. If you don't wanna read, it's ok.

Because all we are living are broken alabaster remains of dusty smiles and echoes of illusion.

"We are not sure of sorrow
And joy was never sure
To-day will die tomorrow
Time stoops to no man's lure
And love, grown faint and fretful,
With lips but half regretful
Sighs, and with eyes forgetful
Weeps that no loves endure."

My favourite poem ever. So intricate and thought-inducing. There's an almost sad feel to it, along with a powerful mix of anxiousness, and matter-of fact. Yes, it is true that time is merciless and what was today will become tomorrow.

I bet you don't know what I mean now, but take time to reflect.

How I wish I can write something as good as this some day.

Now back to memorising the ying yong wen...

It's not what you think you are, but what YOU THINK you are.

Interesting wordplay .

Isn't it strange that our teachers tell us to write clear, simple succinct sentences, yet they gush over these mind-numblingly confuzzling statements?

Just realised that humans are hypocrites. For example, we can't hit the correct notes on a scale, yet we insult Farenheit's singing (they really suck, but anyway) and state that they are the worst singers on earth. Just goes to show that we judge others more harshly than ourselves.

Here's an extract from le petit prince.

Note: This is in French. Skip right to the translation if you please.

-Ah! Voilà un sujet, s'écria le roi quand il aperçut le petit prince.
Et le petit prince se demanda:
-Comment peut-il me connaître puisqu'il ne m'a encore jamais vu!
Il ne savait pas que, pour les rois, le monde est très simplifié. Tous les hommes sont des sujets.
-Approche-toi que je te voie mieux, lui dit le roi qui était tout fier d'être roi pour quelqu'un.
Le petit prince chercha des yeux oû s'asseoir, mais la planète était toute encombrée par le magnifique manteau d'hermine. Il resta donc debout, et, comme il était fatigué, il bâilla.
-Il est contraire à l'étiquette de bâiller en présence d'un roi, lui dit le monarque. Je te l'interdis.
-Je ne peux pas m'en empêcher, répondit le petit prince tout confus. J'ai fait un long voyage et je n'ai pas dormi…
-Alors, lui dit le roi, je t'ordonne de bâiller. Je n'ai vu personne bâiller depuis des années. les bâillements sont pour moi des curiosités. Allons! bâille encore. C'est un ordre.
-Ca m'intimide… je ne peux plus… fit le petit prince tout rougissant.
-Hum! Hum! répontit le roi. Alors je… je t'ordonne tantôt de bâiller et tantôt de…
Il bredouillait un peu et paraissait vexé.
Car le roi tenait essentiellement à ce que son autorité fût respectée. Il ne tolérait pas le désobéissance. C'était un monarque absolu. Mais comme il était très bon, il donnait des ordres raisonnables.
"Si j'ordonnais, disait-il couramment, si j'ordonnais à un général de se changer en oiseau de mer, et si le général n'obéissait pas, ce ne serait pas la faute du général. Ce serait ma faute."
-Puis-je m'asseoir? s'enquit timidement le petit prince.
-Je t'ordonne de t'asseoir, lui répondit le roi, qui ramena majestueusement un pan de son manteau d'hermine.
Mais le petit prince s'étonnait. la planète était minuscule. Sur quoi le roi pouvait-il bien reigner?
-Sire, lui dit-il… je vous demande pardon de vous interroger…
-Je t'ordonne de m'interroger, se hâta de dire le roi.
-Sire… sur quoi régnez-vous?
-Sur tout, répondit le roi, avec une grande simplicité.
-Sur tout?
Le roi d'un geste discret désigna sa planète, les autres planètes et les étoiles.
-Sur tout ça? dit le petit prince.
-Sur tout ça… répondit le roi.
Car non seulement c'était un monarque absolu mais c'était un monarque universel.
-Et les étoiles vous obéissent?
-Bien sûr, lui dit le roi. Elles obéissent aussitôt. Je ne tolère pas l'indiscipline.
Un tel pouvoir émerveilla le petit prince. S'il l'avait détendu lui-même, il aurait pu assister, non pas à quarante-quatre, mais à soixante-douze, ou même à cent, ou même à deux cents couchers de soleil dans la même journée, sans avoir jamais à tirer sa chaise! Et comme il se sentait un peu triste à cause du souvenir de sa petite planète abandonnée, il s'enhardit à solliciter une grâce du roi:
-Je voudrais voire un coucher de soleil… Faites-moi plaisir… Ordonnez au soleil de se coucher…
-Si j'ordonnais à un général de voler une fleur à l'autre à la façon d'un papillon, ou d'écrire une tragédie, ou de se changer en oiseau de mer, et si le général n'exécutait pas l'ordre reçu, qui, de lui ou de moi, serait dans son tort?
-Ce serait vous, dit fermement le petit prince.
-Exact. Il faut exiger de chaqu'un ce que chaqu'un peut donner, reprit le roi. L'autorité repose d'abord sur la raison. Si tu ordonnes à ton peuple d'aller se jeter à la mer, il fera la révollution. J'ai le droit d'exiger l'obéissance parce que mes ordres sont raisonnables.

>

(English version)
"Ah! Here is a subject," exclaimed the king, when he saw the little prince coming.
And the little prince asked himself:
"How could he recognize me when he had never seen me before?"
He did not know how the world is simplified for kings. To them, all men are subjects.
"Approach, so that I may see you better," said the king, who felt consumingly proud of being at last a king over somebody.
The little prince looked everywhere to find a place to sit down; but the entire planet was crammed and obstructed by the king's magnificent ermine robe. So he remained standing upright, and, since he was tired, he yawned.
"It is contrary to etiquette to yawn in the presence of a king," the monarch said to him. "I forbid you to do so."
"I can't help it. I can't stop myself," replied the little prince, thoroughly embarrassed. "I have come on a long journey, and I have had no sleep . . ."
"Ah, then," the king said. "I order you to yawn. It is years since I have seen anyone yawning. Yawns, to me, are objects of curiosity. Come, now! Yawn again! It is an order."
"That frightens me . . . I cannot, any more . . ." murmured the little prince, now completely abashed.
"Hum! Hum!" replied the king. "Then I--I order you sometimes to yawn and sometimes to--"
He sputtered a little, and seemed vexed.
For what the king fundamentally insisted upon was that his authority should be respected. He tolerated no disobedience. He was an absolute monarch. But, because he was a very good man, he made his orders reasonable.
"If I ordered a general," he would say, by way of example, "if I ordered a general to change himself into a sea bird, and if the general did not obey me, that would not be the fault of the general. It would be my fault."
"May I sit down?" came now a timid inquiry from the little prince.
"I order you to do so," the king answered him, and majestically gathered in a fold of his ermine mantle.
But the little prince was wondering . . . The planet was tiny. Over what could this king really rule?
"Sire," he said to him, "I beg that you will excuse my asking you a question--"
"I order you to ask me a question," the king hastened to assure him.
"Sire--over what do you rule?"
"Over everything," said the king, with magnificent simplicity.
"Over everything?"
The king made a gesture, which took in his planet, the other planets, and all the stars.
"Over all that?" asked the little prince.
"Over all that," the king answered.
For his rule was not only absolute: it was also universal.
"And the stars obey you?"
"Certainly they do," the king said. "They obey instantly. I do not permit insubordination."
Such power was a thing for the little prince to marvel at. If he had been master of such complete authority, he would have been able to watch the sunset, not forty-four times in one day, but seventy-two, or even a hundred, or even two hundred times, without ever having to move his chair. And because he felt a bit sad as he remembered his little planet which he had forsaken, he plucked up his courage to ask the king a favor:
"I should like to see a sunset . . . Do me that kindness . . . Order the sun to set . . ."
"If I ordered a general to fly from one flower to another like a butterfly, or to write a tragic drama, or to change himself into a sea bird, and if the general did not carry out the order that he had received, which one of us would be in the wrong?" the king demanded. "The general, or myself?"
"You," said the little prince firmly.
"Exactly. One must require from each one the duty which each one can perform," the king went on. "Accepted authority rests first of all on reason. If you ordered your people to go and throw themselves into the sea, they would rise up in revolution. I have the right to require obedience because my orders are reasonable."

Doesn't this remind you of certain teachers?

Elaboration in later post.

I hope you enjoyed the above story.

Now let's analyse the text (Don't run away yet, I assure you that this has NOTHING to do with the boring parts of literature, and EVERYTHING to do with the little fiasco in the classroom this morning.

The above text was about a king who ordered people around. However, we notice that the king, being 'reasonable' ordered people to do what they would have done anyway (I order you to sneeze!).Believing that his orders were reasonable, he expected all his rules to be obeyed at once. We must notice that without people to rule over, a king is as good as any other citizen.

Now let's begin with the teacher, shall we?

Teachers all think that their requests are reasonable, and thus should be obeyed immediately. That, unfortunately, includes not smiling to your partner and asking them what the bloody mother fucking hell is going on in the lesson when you don't understand a thing.

I have nothing to say to her. Like the king, she is estranged, seeking blindly for someone to 'rule' over. I notice that she is particularly competitive (in a way...) and wants to 'win' every 'battle'. Considering the fit she threw when students walked past her into the classroom, anxious to prepare for the lesson, I must say that she is quite petty pedantic.

Just because you expect things to work YOUR way and everyone to be brilliant at YOUR subject doesn't mean it is. Reality is different from delusions, and I thought YOU, being significantly antediluvian, would know that.

Anyway, YES, I was talking to Huiting and I do not deny that fact. Even if I was laughing, you shouldn't be too unhappy about it. If you want black faces, I suggest you go mope in funeral processions or 'emo' people wanting to slash their wrists or something. Don't bring your menopausal to us. We do everything for a reason, so next time, I BESEECH you to use what little is left of your diseased brain before letting words fly out from your cranium.

If you want to teach, you jolly well anticipate what's coming. Times have changed. If you think that's an excuse, sorry, you're wrong.

And you, sheep Apparition in pink. Don't think you are a goddess or something from the empyrean heavens. Please change your attitude and bias because I do NOT appreciate it.

You aren't any better off, Trelawny incarnate in awful mosaic dresses. What times are we in? 1029 AD? FYI, nobody does memorisation anymore because research has shown that memorisation does us a hell lot of good, and that we forget everything we memorised quickly. So giving us stuff to memorise is like chopping up out brain -- we'll memorise, but we won't remember.

Adieu, dit le renard. Voici mon secret. Il est très simple : on ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.
(And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." )

I'm addicted to le petit prince. Even if it's a storybook meant for beginners taking the language, I still find that it is very meaningful.

Too bad I cam't read or understand French. I'm sure it will be a thousand times better in its native language.

This bloody dog the neighbour owns won't SHUT ITS FUCKING WHINY YAPPING TRAP!

One day I'm gonna poison a doggie treat and throw it to the dog. Meanwhile all I can do is to mentally curse its carcass to miraculously rot and hear its yaps of pain.

You know, maybe having a coat or something made out of doggie skin isn't such a bad idea, it grows especially appealing when the dogs yap.

Ahh. It stopped. Oh glorious silence! Perhaps it sensed my murderous intent when I glared at it.

Good god damned dog.

OMGOMG KYAAAA!
ANOTHER FAVE!
ANOTHER COMMENT!
ANOTHER WATCHER!

Ok. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

This is a drug! Now, if they could bottle it, they'll be RICH...

HIGH!

I feel so appreciated!

2 poems commented...260 pageviews...NOT BAD, GIRL!

And within a day too!

OMGOMG I'M SO LUCKY!!!

Just hope the trend continues....

MUST IMPROVE!

I'm so excited I don't feel like reading through the jiang jiu ou xiang book...

But when I scrolled down to view the person's profile, I was SHOCKED.

Pornographic conssieur.

Say WHAT????

*crumbles*

I get all the...unique people...

*faints*

OMG the Book review was with us??? I thought I handed it all in...

How how how????

DIIIEEE!

Geography not with me...

DOUBLE DIIIEE!

Like OMG KYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Someone faved my work! Someone commented as well! All within 2 hours of it being posted!!

KYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Ok. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

My mind is a swirl of exhilaration.....


MUST. IMPROVE. VOCABULARY.

KYYYAAAA!

Ok, it was on deviantart, and I was happy until I scrolled down to the person's profile.

Singaporean. 14. Male.

My reaction: -----

*blankout*

HOW COME SO COINCEDENTAL?!

About same age summore...

And I was hoping to live an impression on someone that's an English teacher, so that means my prose is very good.

Sigh.

Let's hope he's from Raffles. At least I have something to boast about =)

Note to self: Stop being so reliant on Microsoft Word.

Because my vocabulary bank I store there, some pictures there are corrupted.

Damn.

There must be a goddamn virus somewhere.

DAMN YOU TO HELL, THOSE WHO CREATED VIRUSES! MAY YOUR TESTICLES ROT AND YOU CONTACT STD'S!

..are annoying.

Yeah, seriously. I don't think I'll ever be able to have friendly relations with an acquaintance, because the relationship's just too confusing.

I mean, it's between the neither-friend-nor-foe range, so HTF (how the...figure the last one out yourself) am I supposed to treat them.

Now, I am a pretty nice person. I HEARD THAT SNORT. SHUT UP. Well, I am unless pissed off and my sarcasm come out. So I am normally quite formal, with politeness and yadda yadda, so I won't risk my butt getting on fire.

Apparently I am so unpleasant that the other part wants to 'rectify' her mistake by blocking me.

Touche.

I simply replied that it was pleasant while it lasted, and was sorely tempted to give her a smiley face as well.

Of course, in the name of sarcasm.

Joy. I now have no classmates from primary 6 (coughcoughahemdeletedthemallahemcoughcough)on my MSN contact list, and I am SUPER HAPPY!!!!(Really. Not being sarcastic, they were about as pleasant as swallowing caustic soda. Well, some of them. Suit yourself .)

I hope that anyone who reads this will not think to lowly of me, but hey, displeasure is mutual, no? Just hope I don't go around making more friends than enemies, because it's not worth it living in self-pity and loneliness.

All this because she's incredulous that I read Shakespeare and I dissect it into bits of info like what's the lit. style then. (Honestly, is that so shocking! OMIGOD! THAT IS A MIRACLE! A PHENOMENON! THE MOON IS BLUE! GOLDFISHES CAN ACCESS INTERNET!)

Well, if you can go cutting yourself and mutilating, and I don't give a flying fuck, then kindly stop being a brat and accept that others are different from you. Sheesh. If you want minions, go and find your own brainless sheep, because I REFUSE to take part in your orgy.

So yeah, nice to meet you, nice to know you, and nice to see you off.

If you think I am going to be a shuddering emotional mess over this, you are wrong. I frankly don't give a damn, and am not gonna cut myself, because that is stupid. If you want some blood-clotting disease or infection, go ahead. I'm just glad that there is no NINCOMPOOP dumb enough to do it in Chung Cheng.

Besides, we're running out of places to bury. Sorry, what I meant is that we have no place in Singapore to bury your rotting entrails, so you have to settle for ashes in an obscure place. I don't think I'll be seeing you anywhere in the obituary. C'mon, there's probably loads of people (well not that much, but more than 5) dying everyday, so there won't be space.

And NO, I am not cursing you, even if you are rather fond of doing that as a past time.

P.S. I swear that looks like a pimple on your work. It is, and there is no amount of shading you can do. If you have such a fragile ego and can't take criticism, too fucking bad.

Because unlike you, I intend to improve my work and refuse to slumber in a complacent utopia. It doesn't matter how great you were in the past, the world is more concerned about how great you are NOW, and will be in the future.

Argh I tried signing in again and again and I FINALLY got in(even if the stupid server refused me, saying my email does not exist).

Anyway, I MUST complete the xi zi today!!!

_________________________________________

Yesterday I bought my flute.

It isn't the sterling silver one I wanted because it was SOLD OUT. Grrr.

Man, I missed blogging.

Bloody tests and school and bitchy teachers (with exceptional reference to our dear sheep).

Anyway, I am FINALLY getting my flute on Monday!!!!

Like, YAY!

I want a Gemeinhardt 3SHB flute or a Jupiter 711RSO , but it seems that Gemeinhardts aren't available in Singapore (from what I managed to google, anyway).


The Gemeinhard SHB is a SOLID silver head piece and silver plated blody. The Jupiter 711RSO is entirely sterling silver, but the keys are nickel silver, and it's french. (Open hole-d flute)

I bet you are thinking, "It's no use for a beginner to play an intermediate flute", but the material it is made out of MATTERS.

The silvers gives it a nice tone, and besides, I played a professional flute before (solid silver) and I sounded quite nice (at least that was what my teacher said, I don't know whether it was flattery or not).

I don't know how to explain to you. I suppose it's like an artist and his work.

Well, having good colour pencils will do wonders for your art piece, but in the end, it's the skills which matter. Which proves that the instruments DO matter to bring the best out of each art piece. I suppose I don't really have the sills yet, but I might as well learn it while playing a good flute, thus resulting in a win-win situation.

Best of all, when I need an upgrade, I won't be frazzled by the open holes (=

I think I will change my blog song. It probably scares readers off anyway.

Sigh. So much for foreign languages.

Just posting the lyrics of the song I want. Don't know if it's appropriate.

Don't lose your way
With each passing day
You've come so far
Don't throw it away
Live believing
Dreams are for weaving
Wonders are waiting to start
Live your story
Faith, hope & glory
Hold to the truth in your heart
If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
Where clouds roll byFor you and I

Souls in the wind
Must learn how to bend
Seek out a star
Hold on to the end
Valleys, mountains
There is a fountain
Washes our tears all away
Words are swaying
Someone is praying
Please let us come home to stay

If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
Where clouds roll by
For you and I

When we are out there in the dark
We'll dream about the sun
In the dark we'll feel the light
Warm our hearts, everyone

If we hold on together
I know our dreams will never die
Dreams see us through to forever
As high as souls can fly
The clouds roll by
For you and I

Are the lyrics too cheesy?

Just WTH is 'mugging'?

In the American Heritage Dictionary, 'mug' is defined as:

n.
Informal
The human face.
The area of the human mouth, chin, and jaw.
A grimace.
A mug shot.
A thug; a hoodlum.
Chiefly British Slang A victim or dupe. v. mugged, mug·ging, mugs v. tr.
Informal To photograph (a person's face) for police files.
To threaten or assault (a person) with the intent to rob: arrested the thief who mugged the tourists. v. intr. To make exaggerated facial expressions, especially for humorous effect: The partygoers mugged for the camera. [Probably from mug1 (possibly in allusion to mugs decorated with grotesque faces).]

So when you 'mug' at the library, that means:

1) You like to make exaggerated faces
2) You're a thug, like the greasers in The Outsiders
3) You're a criminal, so they capture mug shots of you so as to decorate the police files
4) You want to assault people with the intent to rob.
5) You're Mr/Miss wonder cup. Amazing, you have the traits of a human. Can I drop you from the 11th story of the HDB block to see whether you break (Test for strength of material)? Or pour hot Blue Mountain coffee in you?

It all boils down to one perturbed person who can't make up his or her mind.

Anyway, I just asked someone what she meant by 'I like to mug (!!)', and apparently it's a slang for 'study'.

Is that in American or British english?

Lovely pseudonym, I know.

Today I woke up, switched on my handphone in hope of getting a certain call from the ministry, but instead of the 'one missed call' message I so anticipated, all I got was a cracked screen.

Now, everyone who know me well would probably not make stupid comments to irate me. Unfortunately, my dear mother decided to make matters worse with one casual comment.

"Aiyah, as long as can receive messages can already."

HELLO, DON'T FUCKING TELL ME THAT BECAUSE I CAN'T SEE A GODDAMN THING OKAY?!

I told her the above, except in a politer form. She evidently didn't believe me, so I rushed up, brought my phone down and nearly shoved it in her face.

Truth to be told, I didn't really have the right to throw one of my notorious tempers, because last night it was also due to a little tantrum when my recorder was thrown carelessly over my shoulder(I can tell you that it gained speed and velocity, gathering enough kinetic energy to make the impact great). It made a sickening crack in contact with something.

Lesson to be learned? Well, don't let me near anything fragile when I'm in a foul mood--particularly pernicious keyboards which keys KEEP MAKING FUCKING TYPOS!!!

ARRRGHHH !

From now on I shall not give a damn about dickheads who refuse to tag. After all, I'm pretty much above their level.

-Hint hint-

I'm so changing the bloody protection cover. It's pretty ineffective in terms of actually PROTECTING my handphone from impact, because all it does is to fly apart every SINGLE FUCKING TIME my handphone is accidentally dropped.

Witless manufacturers should test their products before unleashing these malevolent dysfunctional vexation on the heedless world.