HELLo tHERE











They say hell is not a place but a form of revenge; for every damn ounce of joy and pleasure you reap without sowing, an ounce of pain and suffering will be added into your account and it will be pay in full in our afterlife. But somehow I feel like my toll is being paid in advance here.



It’s one of those days where you fucking realized that you are actually swimming in the ashes of what you call your life and you feel that your anguish that has been stored in your unconsciousness, slowly slip and slide back into your fucking system again. The pain is raising; the hurt resurfaces; just like pouring salt into an opened wound, the floodgate is opened again and in a matter of minute you’ll be drowning in your sea of sorrows.



Feeling like I am buried alive in a Tibetan Sky burial; every inch of my flesh, every ounce of my entrails are being pecked away by them fucking vultures, even my bones are ground and are feasted upon. Every inch of me is being tormented, breathing is a burden and death is actually is release.



But as I look up the night shattered sky I finally realized something, what is happiness without sadness? What is pleasure without pain? Without one of them, the other really means nothing.


This isn’t My fucking Latte with Extra Foam










I just got home from an unusual breakfast; I am not sure that I should be happy or disgusted but it sure felt downright weird. Me and my dad headed to one of my town's most enduring breakfast stalls that sells bean sprout chicken noodles. This fucking stall has been there for as long as I remember and it was still there and business was still as good if not fucking better. Well, I am kinda embarrassed to say that in all my almost 30 years of existence, I have yet tasted what this motherfucking stall has got to offer. So on this fucking wet Saturday morning, we decided to give it a fucking try, who knows I might fall in love with it. Okie I lied, that didn’t go through my brain at first, the thought that actually went through my head was something like this:


I am sorry but I do get a little horny on cold mornings, it must be the stiffness that I am feeling down under that requires a little “southern comfort”, if you know what I mean. But yeah, I know that would only happen in my dreams, meanwhile back in reality , all I got was a old China man clad only in singlet, boxers and an apron preparing the food behind the counter and a Bangala with extremely hair fingers bringing us our orders.

When I saw what was served, I went like, “OH MY COCK! Did I just land on a fucking star dock? Then why are they fucking serving me my usual Star Buck’s latte? This isn’t my fucking latte with extra foam. I fucking swear to god I ordered some chicken and bean sprout noodles. Why are there foam in it?”


But as I look around me, everyone’s noodles seem to be foamy too and they didn’t seem to mind. I guess the foam must have been part of the breakfast package. So before I embarrassed myself, I try to shut out the thought that the foam was the residual of dish detergent and fucking binge everything down.


It was pretty much a bitter sweet breakfast experience because the food actually tastes pretty good but it is just the fucking foam that is very disturbing. But after paying the bill, I guess I am just going to let it slide. Come on man, where the fuck are you going to get such generous portion of food that tastes pretty good at primary school canteen price - RM3.00 per head that’s less than US1 .



P.S. This isn’t me back blogging, it’s just me trying to kill some time before the Saturday morning cartoons starts.


Just Slit Your Wrist like Cheap Coupons




...Because Death is on Sale Today.


PICTURE 014

PICTURE 015

PICTURE 016

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Pictures by Ashley


Firstly, I would like to apologize to Ashley for taking my sweet time in posting these pictures. Better late than nothing right? Anyway, these are really intense pictures and I wonder if she suffered any tissue damage from the cuts. Judging from the scars, I guess she has been cutting herself for quite some time now.

Thanks again for sending in these pictures.

P.s. I think Marilyn Manson’s Antichrist Superstar is a great CD to slit your wrist too, especially the song Dried up, tied up and dead to the world.




"Calling all practicing wrist cutter! I am creating a new gallery for those who love to slit their wrist therefore I am collecting pictures of wrist being slit or wounds resulting from wrist slitting. If you could send it those pictures and your name too, I can add it in the gallery, just so the others can see how cool you really are. "

Please send pictures and your name to:


other sent in pictures:


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