kakurenbo

Anything comes and everything goes. That’s just the way it is. We’re constantly caught in the rush of temporality and the distant longing that reminiscence brings. And every time you have a quiet moment, you find yourself staring blankly at random inanimate objects because you feel so drained of emotions that your body naturally melts onto the chair. Of course the people around you will interpret this as Severe Masturbation Syndrome (SMS) and shake their heads as they look at you saying something along the lines of “Tsk tsk tsk, see what happens when you wank too much? Your pupils dilate and you become weak and you look like that wasted motherfucker over there with the limp wrists wrapped in some bad show bandage that he tells people he’s doing a Sagat cosplay but we all know it’s just from over exerted wanking, the little bastard“.

To set the record straight, my right wrist gets injured not because I’ve been wanking furiously and repeatedly. It’s because I’ve got such a massive fucking dick that it takes a whole four minutes for my palm to slide from base to tip, and after every wanking session I emerge with toned muscles which is good, but I also get a damn tired wrist and a really wasted face, which is bad because chicks don’t dig guys who look like their dying. I mean seriously, I don’t see chicks throwing themselves at AIDS patients. Or having a girl’s night out at the hospital. Or flirting with the folks at the nursing home.

Oh dear. That was a little inconsiderate of me, wasn’t it? Whatever, go read Oprah’s transcripts if you want sensitive and politically correct drivel.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. My cryptic yet emo but sagely outlook on life.

KFC is an accurate reflection of life: Juicy, tender and crispy and slightly overwhelming.

Wtf.

When you start understanding the concept of life and its temporary circumstances, you tend to restrict emotions and disengage yourself from giving 100% in the people and things around you, simply because you fear and know it’s all going to go away in the end. You begin seeing things as if they were flickering images, on the verge of disappearing completely at any moment. Of course sometimes it’s because its raining heavily and the Astro reception gets fucked up and every song on MTV sounds like Beastie Boys’ Ch-Ch-Check it out.

And then you become numb. Then you turn to alcohol to bring out emotions of happiness, sadness, anger, jealously, lust and all that other shit women embrace whenever some dyke feminist tells them to “celebrate your emotions, gals!”, because well, you’ve been so detached that you forget how to feel.

Then again, sometimes you HAVE to turn to alcohol because bad shaped people just cannot learn to fucking stay home and put an end to visual assault. NoooOooOoo. You uglies just HAVE to come out and display your aesthetic deficiencies to us, subsequently forcing us to consume copious amounts of alcohol. Ugly people made me an alcoholic. Hey that sounds like a damn good song title for an indie rock band from the potato patches of Idaho.

And most of the times your heart desperately tries to find a suitable emotion to befit the situation but your body has memorized all the escape routes so well you forget how to stop and fully appreciate the moment.

So maybe, just maybe, you need to learn to stop fearing and anticipating an end to the circumstances, people and environment around you. Enjoy the moment whilst it’s still around, and later look back in retrospect and smile.

And that is why all you hot hoes should not hold back any notions which involve either

a. throwing yourself at me
b. worshipping me
c. giving me an alternative to wanking *ahem*
d. all of the above

Because you should embrace the moment (and my body) whilst I’m still attractive and available, instead of worrying about trivial nonsense like whether it’s going to work out between us or if I’m just using you for my own satisfaction or how you might get hurt, sad, rejected and all that other menstruation induced emotions.

Love me. NOW.

And get me a barrel of KFC whilst you’re at it, will ya.