BluE Scrubs

I wrote this on Sunday night. It’s one of those things that I keep in a little folder on my computer. It reads, BLOG REJECTS which also means -if you got this far, you'll be dead in 5 seconds.
It’s one of those scripts that I thought about putting up but never did dare click publish.

Today I dare.

I observed that;

The grapefruit I bought today wasn’t as nice as the ones before. I think they changed the supplier. If you work in ASDA, please tell the management.

The milk looked a little thin, they couldn’t have added water to it. It’s illegal.

I have eaten one of those slices of cheesecake and I feel diabolical.

I took my ipod to ASDA, simply because it’s not been out of the house for 5 months. I now fail to see the purpose of having an ipod. Maybe I don’t like anything stuck in my ears.

I have been playing this Indon CD: Bawalah Hatimu 23 times and this song CINTAMU- Dygta feat Ira for possibly 27 times. I feel so tortured listening to it which makes me feel kind of good. And it makes me feel even better that I am consoled on the question: could I actually feel any emotions. I would then lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling.

When the girl goes “Cintamu…dan tiada yang kan memisahkan selamanya”,

I go bullshit bullshit bullshit and would scratch the carpet like a psycho cat trying to kill a spider high on wacky- backy. I would then ignore any messages, phone calls, IM, any phone agains and it’s voicemail, or any knock on the door. And just drown myself in my virtual vomitus.

The idea of me leaving everybody, and shutting them out sounds good, and I think it’s happening, only the other way round. People go on holiday, people moved on, people get a different job, people get married, people have babies, and I? I am working on Heberden’s nodes in my fingers attending to Bluescrubs. Stuck on level 0. I could have a wild party with a roomful of people, I could have won a jackpot but I am positive I’d still feel this tumourous feeling clawing into my flesh like barnacles on muddy Woolacombe beach.

...ok I’ll say it..I am so flipping F..F…FF…foosed, numpted, wallied and diaphanoused. Small and insignificant. Welled up and stretched. Emotionally constipated and bunged up with guilt. Sigh. I made up some of the words, so no, I haven’t expanded my vocabulary to the seventh heaven. Is this english or pure loneliness.

I want to be in a coma. So people know I have suffered. So he knows I am in pain.
So people come and see me at work but as a patient, on the bed. So it’ll be ironic. Maybe I’ll be in the newspaper. A vibrant young doctor finally fell into a deep coma after wishing so hard to shut down and shut the world out.

And when the boy and the girl sing together,

“Tak pernah ku mencuba lepaskan cintamu walau sesaat. Sejujurnya diriku terlalu sayang padamu. Ku ingin selalu dalam cintamu”

I feel like I want to jump off this building. The most I will suffer from is a broken calcaneum. 3 months off work. So I can go home and be 9 again. Cik T can plait my hair and I can wear the brown girl guide uniform and cook omelette in TAMAN SAINS.

I started off very well up there, I wanted this post to be about food, but I somehow ended up telling the world what a loser I am. I shouldn’t have listened to that song. Today is my stupid day, sorry it ends with this stupid entry.

Saya rasa nak macam nak mati would have sufficed.