Diary entry, 02/08/09, Thailand.
What can I tell you about the choices we make?
Fate reads like a funny story book. There is a joke waiting for you for every page you turn to. Sometimes it is witty but sometimes it laughs at you in your face.
When I was just a little girl, I used to have a round disco ball hung at the center of my tiny room. I found it at the nearby dustbin and thought to myself to pick it up since someone obviously did not need it anymore. So there it was, bright and shiny. It became my reason, my center of the universe.
Everyday I would pretend that it was the globe. I spun the globe around and around, imagining myself gallivanting to every little piece of heaven God blessed us with.
It looked like another world. A magical world I was so curious about.
As I grew older, I realised I am in the other world. I kept spinning the globe until I found myself walking away. Walking away from the agonising rathole I was in, the cramped space which suffocated my every molecular surface - to the comfort of a man's bed.
A symphony of men. In return of a world I never knew of.
Fate is a funny story book and it is laughing at me in my face. It reads like a polar of decision mocking the choices we are presented with.
The hot sweaty breaths of a stallion interlocking, weaving in with my own waves of moans are my reason now. Someday, I would find the right words to replace my obscure traipse and they would be simple.
But the burden would be intolerable, still.
What can I tell you about the choices we make?
Fate reads like a funny story book. There is a joke waiting for you for every page you turn to. Sometimes it is witty but sometimes it laughs at you in your face.
When I was just a little girl, I used to have a round disco ball hung at the center of my tiny room. I found it at the nearby dustbin and thought to myself to pick it up since someone obviously did not need it anymore. So there it was, bright and shiny. It became my reason, my center of the universe.
Everyday I would pretend that it was the globe. I spun the globe around and around, imagining myself gallivanting to every little piece of heaven God blessed us with.
It looked like another world. A magical world I was so curious about.
As I grew older, I realised I am in the other world. I kept spinning the globe until I found myself walking away. Walking away from the agonising rathole I was in, the cramped space which suffocated my every molecular surface - to the comfort of a man's bed.
A symphony of men. In return of a world I never knew of.
Fate is a funny story book and it is laughing at me in my face. It reads like a polar of decision mocking the choices we are presented with.
The hot sweaty breaths of a stallion interlocking, weaving in with my own waves of moans are my reason now. Someday, I would find the right words to replace my obscure traipse and they would be simple.
But the burden would be intolerable, still.