where art thou?

i miss brunei. still.

i miss the food. the delegates. the hot debates. the pickup lines-[forum 1 delegates should understand this:]

yet, now i'm home.

yeah, home. which home? let's just call it as a home. for it has always been one [i'm crapping, obviously]

and for me, home doesn't mean family. not anymore. neither mom's cooking. not even close.

home=

1. house chores- including sweeping the floor and cleaning the toilets [yes, it's toilet with an S]

2. trying hard to find something to eat, or die starving

3. locking myself in the room with mr. lappy

4. letting the idiot box stare at me- literally

5. swimming in the bed til drowned, for there's no point of getting up

6. taking care of the laundry- i miss makcik dobi!!

7. do nothing.

i guess i'm still in the air. day dreaming. wishing that my family would be there when i'm home.

i feel so unloved.

love is a four letter word printed on a goggles shirt