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December 19, 2009

I am a fickle person. Very much so. The best example of how fickle I am is written all over how I deal with my blog…’s.

I have been blogging since 2006 and to date, I have deleted two blogs for good due to my renowned PMS’yness and I haven’t been able to revive them. Within 2009 alone, I shut down my old blog twice and then opened this one but luckily, I was able to get all my old posts.

However, I have decided on changing, again. I made the mistake of opening this one on wordpress and while most *cough*WordpressfangirlslikeJerry&SaintFallen*cough* might say that WP is the superior platform, I would like to respectfully disagree just because of how crappy their privacy settings are and more importantly, because I can’t edit CSS and the themes are limited. And I loveeeeeeeeee changing themes!

Therefore, I have decided to move back to blogger without these old posts. Don’t get me wrong, I did try moving the posts but WP is a big bastard as it only lets you export in WXR and blogger only accepts XML. Ah the woes of a blogger. But then, maybe it’s better this way. Maybe I don’t need these old posts because the truth is, they are old. I usually get bummed out reading them too. So much has happened since I opened ‘A Perfectly Perplexing Conundrum’ that it’s not even funny.

I am going to keep my ‘leaf’ here *smirk* and let it stay here. I wouldn’t want to erase what I have written (again). I have always blogged_for_me_(mostly) and I would like to read them back one day. Plus it’d be such a waste to kill the blog with all the wonderful comments from some pretty great people.

So yes, I’m moving, to start a new ‘leaf’ in a new place with new experiences and new posts and new places. I am going to stop misrepresenting myself and try to put myself across better.

I have transferred the fiction posts mostly because I like them. Unfortunately, couldn’t transfer the comments but thank you. Also, if you have linked to me (Thank you so much, BTW), I am so very sorry that you’d have to edit links again. I promise this will be the last time.

I think. I hope.

New Blog —–> Click here

Later 🙂


Forever – Ben Harper

December 17, 2009

It’s been a while since I heard this song. The last time was when an amateur guitarist clumsily strummed it away to a private audience of one. I thought it was beautiful.

At sixteen, forever didn’t seem too long. Forever was even a distinct possibility. But more importantly, you are happy. A beautiful foolish delusion, isn’t it?!

As the ever knowledgeable Mr Pooh said, my go-to man of wit, “I used to believe in forever, but forever is too good to be true.”

Anyway, Harper is definitely one of my favourite solo artists. I loved ‘Happy ever after in your eyes‘ when it first came out and ofcourse, the classic ‘Waiting on an angel‘. Something very soothing about his music.

Do give it a listen

Not talkin’ ’bout a year
No not three or four
I don’t want that kind of forever
In my life anymore
Forever always seems
To be around when it begins
But forever never seems
To be around when it ends

So give me your forever
Please your forever
Not a day less will do from you

People spend so much time
Every single day
Runnin’ ’round all over town
Givin’ their forever away
But no, not me
I won’t let my forever roam
And now I hope I can find
My forever a home

So give me your forever
Please your forever
Not a day less will do
From you

Like a handless clock with numbers
An infinite of time
No not the forever found
Only in the mind
Forever always seems
To be around when things begin
But forever never seems
To be around when things end

So give me your forever
Please your forever
Not a day less will do
From you

Thank You

December 12, 2009

For being the glimmer,
That shed enough light on this dark time and year,
So that I could end it with grace,
Setting next year an all new pace.

Maybe, just maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me.

Again, thank you,
Sluuuuuuhhhhhtttttt 😉


December 8, 2009
tags: ,

“Kiss me: here, here and here” she whispered softly as she trailed a single finger down her neck to her chest, mapping a path of pleasure for him.

There was loud music playing in the background but she couldn’t make it out. The blood that had rushed to her ears because of his kiss had blocked reality. It had blocked even the voices in her head. The voices that would have told her how wrong feeling this good was as he kissed her: there, there and there.

She closed her eyes as his hands explored her; not leaving a single inch untouched. As his tongue made its way down her body, leaving a defined trail of heat behind, she felt herself lift up; her spirit arching out of her body. Before she could comprehend what had happened, she was up, floating above the scene of sin.

His fingers traced slow lazy circles behind her knee and she looked on from above as he started kissing and making his way up her leg, onto her thighs. She spread her legs to make way for him. Wantonly wanting him.

Her Mother, the conservative. What would she say now? she wondered, her abstract frame of mind shoving stray thoughts past her. Would she be disgusted by her whore of a daughter, being a slave to pure desire with no strings and commitments? Would she ever love her if she knew anything about her? If she knew that she was unchaste? Her perfect daughter, the whore.

What was it that Mother always said? Women were like little cotton balls and men were like untamed flames. Women would burn if placed too close and as he made his way up from her thighs to delve inside her with his tongue, she burnt. She was on fire.

She was on top of him now, nibbling on his chest and making him gasp. She took a little pleasure out of hurting him, like she was making him pay for being there and doing this. Not that it wasn’t without full consent. She smiled in the dark as she ground her hips against his, while her spirit looked on from above, detached.

Her high was slowly fading, the high from the joint and the shots she had had earlier on in the night. She wanted it back, she wanted to be in that crazed frenzy again. So that the voices would stop. The voices that were creeping in slowly; pushing through the cloud of smoke inside her head.

They were telling her she was being stupid; reckless and irresponsible. What would the past men in her life think? The ones that mattered, they screamed. She was never like this with them. This was not the way to lose it. What had happened to all her romantic scenarios: of a warm night, love and tenderness?

Shut the fuck up, barked the angered cloud, Look at you, you are wild! Wild just for tonight!

He was on top again, positioning himself now. His eyes were dazed as he stroked her, feeling and spreading her warmth, anticipating what was to come. She wondered from up there whether he thought of his girlfriend. Probably not. She wondered if she should think of her boyfriend. Her sweet, dependable boyfriend. Her sweet, dependable boring boyfriend. She wondered what he might be doing, whether he was waiting for the call she had promised,

She looked on as he slowly entered her, a fleeting thought of why it didn’t hurt distracting her. And why she didn’t feel sad about her boyfriend.

Oh yes, she was scarred. She was incapable of feeling anything. He had been the rebound guy. That was why.

She went back to looking down below and saw herself, arching her back and biting down on his toned shoulder, experiencing pure pleasure and heat for the very first time.

Everything was in shades of red. Red the colour of desire. Red the colour of sin. She watched as the figures below writhed and moaned.

There were bubbles everywhere. Bubbles that made up the principles and ideals of her life. Bubbles she learnt to live by for so long. Bubbles made by her parents, her friends and society. Hypocritical, scornful society.

And with each quick, mad thrust, a bubble disappeared. With each wild and frantic in and slow and playful out, a bubble burst around her.

Until only one remained. And as he drove inside of her one last time, making her scream his name out loud, bringing them both to their dramatic climax, she felt her head spin and her spirit crashed back inside of her.

He lay breathing heavily on top of her, spent, his beads of sweet sweat mingling with hers. And with her eyes wide open, she looked on as the last bubble slowly popped in the distance.


December 7, 2009



It’s the waiting. The waiting that’s slowly draining me of all thoughts and plans. The waiting is the figurative drain plug and the plug has come off all by itself. Damned plug. There goes all my to-do-lists…down the figurative drain. Am I even using the word figurative in the right context? Hmmm.

This wait for something to happen. Anything. Something.

As a wise man (link Unsilent Dawn which can’t be done on the stupid phone browser because wordpress is so mobile phone browser unfriendly) tweeted, ‘You are testing my patience. I’m losing the test.’ Good, isn’t it? Yes, he does have his moments.

I’m losing my patience with the waiting game. The precious little I had. Something to happen. Anything at all. Some change. The monotony is killing me.

Hmm. I also seem to have lost all meaning of the damned word now.


Edit: unrelated quote out of ‘Learning to fly’ by Shehani Gomes which i’m reading now and just came across: ‘Some people are born with the natural capacity to love. Were they not? That was how they radiated warmth while the cursed bitches basked stealthily.’ conclude on it as you wish. The book is splattered with such gems…it’s okay, the book I mean. Different.

Thissies and Thatsies

December 3, 2009

A quick quickie:
– Lappy finally decided to croak on me. treacherous piece of shit. It deserves to rot in laptop hell but no instead I’m going to go try to find an elixir tomorrow so that hopefully it’ll work long enough for my parents to finally take pity on me and buy a new one.

– Inglourious Basterds was good. Did anyone else think Sylar looked hawt? No? He did to me. Don’t shoot me but I liked IB better than Pulp Fiction. What, it had Brad Pitt in it. Which immediately means 1000 plus points. Okay probably going to regret saying that but I’ll stick by it. Not a Tarantino fan though, so hmm but I will watch it again!

– 2012 was brilliant. Jerry’s opinion doesn’t count. It was a good movie. Very Day-after-tomorrow’ish, which I also loved. John Cusack looked absolutely yummilicious. Too bad about the ending though, I wouldn’t have minded a … different one with lesser lead characters left standing. Ermm gave too much away? I cried through out the movie. A lot. But that’s not saying much, I cry at most movies…even some romantic comedies. So yes, saying I cried means jack. Erase that.

But…GO WATCH THE MOVIE!! No, go watch it on the big screen. Makes a difference. Will definitely watch again. Side effects include:
an itch to build an ark, desire to move to Africa and saving humanity ofcourse. Also the urge to scream ‘the end is here’. Yes that good.

– Read ‘The Kite Runner’ by Khaled Hosseini. Fucking A. A definite definite must read when it comes to Asian authors. I had goosebumps through out most chapters. Brilliant! Go, buy copy naowww!

– This weekend is going to be phunnnnnnnn!

Await detailed post on all of the above later. My fingers are sure to fall apart typing on this damned phone.

Cheerios, children.

*Clears throat* Ermmm

November 30, 2009

*Pat Pat*

Hi! Been a while.

Yeah, no…don’t try to block me out, listen to what I have to say.

No? Fine, go ahead…keep going ‘llallalalaa’…I can wait.

Done? Really? Yeah, didn’t think so. *Waits*

Okay, where were we?

Right. So what are you doing? 2009 is almost done with, y’know?

There’s no need to be snarky and growl at me. Your mouth is going to get you into a lot of trouble if you don’t learn how to filter, young lady.

What is it they say, something to do with burner, pot, into the fire? Yeah, that. That’s a bit apt right now.

No I’m not a pretentious bitch (when did you start cussing like this? So unbecoming). I’m mature, something you aren’t familiar with, clearly.

Leave the boys alone. No, really, kid you not.

Go, do something…stop waiting for things to happen. That was never you. These bad habits you have gotten into.

Stop annoying your mother. She’s seriously contemplating disowning you. No she is capable of living without you. Really. Push her a bit more and you’ll see.

All the vices you have picked up? Yeah, I’m judging you. I know you don’t care but you should. I’m just saying.

Relax. Unwind. Get away. Breathe a little. You are only human.

Don’t look for love. Don’t. Yes, I know you aren’t but I see you peeking now and again. Don’t. It’ll happen, let it when it does.

Stop throwing your laptop around. So impatient. Tch. Get it fixed instead. You have a lot of fixing to do.

Have a little faith.

Appreciate them, you might not be around much longer. Really, really listen to their problems. It’ll help you gain some perspective on yours.

Okay, I’m done. It’s good to know you listen…sometimes. Now, go back to your tweeting and your manicures and your books. But remember…tick tock.

Will talk to you soon.

And hey…
Smile a little more k? Stop zoning out like that. The things you miss, if only you knew.

You can still end the year with some grace. Get to it. Chop chop.