Literature S

It's over. Thanks for not giving a damn.


Incidentally, lies and spurned love were the themes of the day.


Lies, spurned love, tragic marriages and alienation.


Anyway, byebye lit. I'm off to Tekong to lead an uncultured brute's life.

Where do we go from here?

Post As is a time for chucking and retrieving.

Leeches, pretenders, ugly acquaintances - out out out with the redundant old notes. It's time to give that old friend of yonder a long-delayed call. Say "I remember you.", "Do you still remember me?".

But why do we wait till we're almost forgotten before we come creeping back into their lives?


And there're the life-plans we have to draw now that we've lost our sole purpose of existence for the past ten years. Doctor, lawyer, director now replace Biology, GP, Economics. Stumble now and you end up a 9-5 ; a face in the crowd ; or just simply pwned.

I know what I want and where I'm going - which makes it worse if I don't get there.

Alice : Cheshire Puss, would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?

Cat : That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,

Alice : I don't much care where -

Cat : Then it doesn't matter which way you go,

Alice : - so long as I get somewhere,

Cat : Oh you're sure to do that, if you only walk long enough.

For now, though, let us dance.

Never.

Truth never hurts? Now that's a lie. Truth never hurts if you add alcohol, and a fatal dose of weed. And slit your wrist meanwhile, just to be sure. I wish I were American, then I can get totally wasted, Marissa Cooper style. Never ; Nil ; Zero ; Zilch - It's such an easy word to say. N-E-V-E-R. 2 syllables, 5 letters, type it out if you must. Murder hope.

Some things are forever. Others - never. So save everybody's time and say never ever.

There is no love in literature. Discuss.

"Are your parents retarded?"

"'Cos baby you're so special."

The Geeks Get The Girls

Curvalicious Math : Sketch me baby, sketch me please! Ohhh...


By the way, GL HF is not a mathematical equation.

Foetal Fantasies

Today, I sat opposite a pregnant woman on the bus...

Mrs. Preggers' Internal Monologue :
"Oh no, what if my son turns out like that bawling blonde brat terrorizing the passengers, sans the beautiful blonde hair? And think about those kids from MINDS we just passed - would any mother love them? Look, here comes a blind man. I doubt I'll love my child as much if he's to be born blind. Now check out that bald guy in front, wearing the ugly grey sackcloth. Nothing else matters, so long as my child doesn't in the least resemble him."