Walking on these fields of tin foils for the crunch, it's satisfying, ain't it? Yeah, I've been doing my whole life with no shoes on. It hurts and my feet bleeds but I love it as much as the next fucker would.

It's 3.08pm and nothing is getting done. So, walk on. Because they put you in a tiny air-tight box and tell you to be creative. After, they stack you up in a tiny cabinet and dispose your box of comfort. To their convenience, they pull you out when they are dry and after they have finished using you for the day, you are back in storage. Nothing more than the flavour of the day. And you live on, in that overcrowded suffocating cabinet, waiting to be picked the next day again.

There comes a time when people lose. Everyone loses something or someone. Some people lose everything and everyone. Kings lose queens and queens lose wars. Boys lose girls and girls lose girls. History serves us proof, but I am rewriting it to my fancy. But it is evident that I am starting to lose my words.

And I welcome you to watch my fall.

Town folk left a note "We tore your poster down"

Last time around the sheriff chased me out of town

Yes, I steal words.

Because that's the only way I can attain that tiny bit of your wisdom, no?

Tonight, I will be able to hold her to sleep. The only freedom I get.

Besides Youtube. Such is life.

If I'm already dead then there's no way I can die.

Okay I don't know where I'm getting the time to blog but guess who got to meet Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer!!! :)

Heeheeheeheeheeheehee. You don't understand. Heeheeheeheeheehee. I couldn't speeeak.

"Will you sign my belly?" said the dumpling.

Yes mam, it's been a good Halloween weekend.

Thank you to the girlfriend, Palmer and Gaiman to be alive and Singapore Writer's Festival for making this dream possible. I can die in peace now.

Apart from this fish bowl of happiness, I really wish I didn't have to sleep at all. Sigh. Ya feelin' me?

Unlike the previous generation that has seen her flourish in all her beauty, I belong to the tribe, the one that clings on to her history and fond memories. I am holding her hand on her deathbed and before her departure, she can take me. She may take my last breath as hers if it prolongs her life for just a bit. For art can be love. And love is suicide.

My lover is dying. So am I.

And it seems only you sympathise the dead.

So I haven't been posting anything. Bite me.

My life slithers through the traffic of grim dull monotony. An hour becomes a minute, a day becomes a race and a week becomes a cycle. You wake up, you move along at the speed of a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter, you don't even dare to look in the mirror to see what trash you really are. Then you transgress the will of God, live with your partner for a few days, overeat for the sake of flavour, leave your dog in the balcony despite it being 36 degree celsius and realise... You have genuinely mastered the art of disregard for life. Not just yours. But your dog as well.

"Prince Charming died." just went my sister. This is a madhouse. And I am the poster child of this institution. Someone has to combat this social sickness, no?

So children, take your paints, vandalise your wall to ask yourself why you're still alive,

when death is the only thing worth living for.

I am the fucking queen of the world. If you think not, I could hardly care less. About you. Or your dog.

So follow me, or get on your knees.
http://twitter.com/MichConstantine.

Good morning lunacy, how about a little ride-a-round this pathetic queen? Will you bring the scalpel or shall I? My lady is no treat, no tramp, no whore, no love, for me? My lover bears no cubs, should I be sorry? Ho ho ho.

Alas, it be seen! A demon of seduction, a brat known as function and logic dubbed reduction. My dear sweets, dissatisfaction granted and humanity for the price of... me? Ha ha ha. Humanity is the ham in your sandwich. Dearie, bread is cheap! Such sustainability feeding such hunger. Does it leave one intrigued?

Well well, blandness is flavour. Porcelain is China. Trust is free? Reconstruction this notion, reconsult these witches, renew these potions, reveal my nation, your liberation.

You, me and what fucking decency?

Greetings. I am Zorro Anne Ang. I enjoy long walks on the beach, picnics, peeing on Michelle's bed, your silly baby-talk, cuddles and beef. I am a dragon.

Last week consisted of the museum, movies, stayovers, ramen, frozen yogurt, Play, Toca, games, and sex toys.

Okay I'm lying about the sex toys. Hee.


Princess got her Olympus EP-1. I love that thing because it's a digital Holga but hate it cause it's a friggin chick magnet.

Roses, daises and a wee bit of crazy.

It is you that makes me strong. And I am only as strong as my weakest link.You keep me crazy in this sane world. The other 3/4 that makes up for all my flaws.