Usual blattant

I ate three today. I ate three junks and craps today.
I ate lontong with bad-colouring that smells sick.
I ate strange meat, perhaps mouse, it did not taste like chicken.
I ate rice with odd texture, strange taste, yucky fragrance.


I asked why the fashion shows rarely explore theathrical performance, conceptual walks should bump the old cat walk. I prefer dances for new wave, or crawls for horror ambience.


I hate my pa. We tolerate his drunken behaviour, we do not shout back at him, my mother do not complaint to him that frequent and that painful for arriving home late.
I hate him.
I hate the circumstance that does not allow me to stand tall for my displeasure, and to nag, to use hateful words.
I hate this world that demand perfection.
I hate this world that keeps record on bad deed and barely appreciate little achievements.

I do not hate you, i do not complaint, but my heart would not just keep silent for one time too long