i wanna be skinny!

" im not insecure! " - i quote myself.

*she gave me the middle finger.

" im not. im not insecure! " - again, i quote myself.

*she shoved two middle fingers up my face.

phoaaaaaaarrrrr.....

bitch! hah. i didnt need the affirmation, but she did say it in a way only the two of us understood.

" i wanna be skinny ". no. " i want to be skinny ". a quote i first puttered with, then it leeched on and became the atrocious whisperer in my already rugged mind.

my insecurity? doh! one of them.

i get my narcissism leveled up now and then with remarks like,

" you're already skinny! "
" which gym do you go to? "
" why are you thin? "
" you are skinny!".

but im not yet skinny. i dont do gym, just a "special" routine. 'why' is a question my mind cant generate an answer to. skinny? me? my inner will is powerless to proclaim such absolute. nonetheless, to have such remarks said, its impossible to not have your ego bursting in anthems. who in a sane mind wouldn't like being said nice things to?

just when you're comfortably high on narcissism boost, reality bites you hard with comebacks like,

" you have a big appetite!? "
" you've been eating alot today! "

damn. i proclaim it even harder, " I WANNA BE SKINNY!!! ". hell of a conviction i have to endure. wait. do i 'have' to? i havent got great patience to own such endurance.

but really, who must i listen to?

friends who keeps convincing me with sweet melodic words, but blurts piercing tajam! tajam! utterance in a moment's spur?

or

the ever intimidating weight scales with guaranteed preciseness, but parades inconsistent figures everytime i go on various scales?
(i still like what ing hui's scale tells me! hah.)

or

the constant debate between the illusive angelic being and the deceptive demonic presence, who then concludes promising echoes to linger in my head, everytime i look at my mirror reflections or photo images of myself?

i curse with indecisiveness. fuck.

wait.

am i that insecure?

hah. no. just hiatuses of thought. i love me.

.
.
.
.
.

i still wanna be skinny! i secretly, quietly, inse*&%c&#3u*&r%@e2ly do. hush. heh. pfffts!

teaser

you said you liked me. you liked my "style" and then you finished it with a touch of a wicked mysterious grin.

you kept me wondering ...

you said i turned you on. you listed the things you'd do to me and then you had me by saying out my biggest turn on.

you got my inside all giddy ...

you teased me with your naughty little words and then lured me into your imaginary filthy filthy little world of eroticism.

you made me whirled with sensation ...

i was on my way to yours, but you didn't answer.

WTF?!?!

you had me believed that you were for real, weren't you?

you complained i was always out with my friends. my late nights of world cup's ridicules. my constant outings with my favourite cousins. and left you with the stench of horniness.

k a n i n a l a n c i a o l u c h i b a i !

teaser!

you replied an hour later ...

" i wish you were here "

MA HAI!!!! ##@! *(&@ 29 )*&!)&4 &@!&@*&#^ %%#@# *&^%(@!!#!???@>@@? CHIBAI!

teaser!

fuckin teaser!

blah! i sound like a horny bastard. wait. i am! hah. pffffts.


and on a totally non related topic ... more pics! hah. cam-whoring at a familiar whereabouts.

monkee cousins : ting + arth + josh

his wildish ways. her heart. his lucky number.

monkee cousins : ting + josh + arth

in a state of trance

monkee flex

weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

josh's random pose

.

vulgar me

"fading away from the clubbing scene." - i quote myself. bullshit. i still shine like an electrified psycho disco-ball, spreading love.

"my medical check up coming. its coming!" - i quote myself. bullshit. its "still" coming. im PETRIFIED! pfffts.

"shit! fuck! shit! chibai! chibai!" - i quote myself. im so full of such crude indecent language.

i am not supposed to have my internal poisoned. a saying i failed to endure. chibai!

i blame "my pussy" for dragging me along with her crazy plans. with my lack in the area of self-control, how am i to resist the taste of such devilish goodness?

my only respond? "chibai!"

i also blame that silent criminal for showing up with that huge evil smirk on his face. his lips sealed, but the writings on his facial expression is easily read.

my quick respond? "chibai! chibai!"

my words are vulgar, and irrelevant as responds. when it comes to making substantial decision, i get very indecisive, my words tangles with each other, and my responses always appear unintentionaly profane. but we always have an understanding.

her heart. his lucky number. my wildish ways. a combination equals to the quake of chaos. a circle of soul created to be destructors. a collection of mind sets, to make havoc, even evil fall under submission to such darkness.

they're not stopping. my excuse not to either.

chibai wei!

it always ends a happy never-ending. kepotien! kepotien!

chibai!

a little feast for the hungry eyes. indulge! my sinful journey to a happy never-ending.

> ollie + ing hui + josh : Ministry of Stoom [ mamoyo and the seventh monkee ]

> *kanids - meaning 'cousins' in kelabit. josh + arth : the "black sheeps" of the family

> the circle of 3, matched to destruct! [ ing hui + ollie + josh ]

> monkeefied! : ing hui + kenny + josh + arth + kynan

> candid! : a half of ing hui + kenny + ting + retarded josh + alang-alang renee + arth

a never-ending story.

mis milagros

my sky succumbs to the sudden dark clouds,
with evil lightnings igniting my earth's quake;
she poisons sound with her thunder's throb,
and blinding sight to the wrath of shadow's wake.

no miedo mi alma! my heart pounds.
perceptual stimulus trembles my soul.
aghast. terrified. overwhelmed.
but i am not yet shakened.
sea fuerte, my whisper.
sea fuerte! sea fuerte!
then i choked on my persistent whisper.

when all forfeited to stillness,
she bursts into drizzling tears.
a heaven's grace?
her sign of melancholiness?
i am asking for a thunder's answer.
i shall not.

with silence slowly approaching,
a sudden melody of sound swiftly crept in.

i wake to my existence.
shit! my mind curse quietly,
but comforted by the familiar faces i see.

a dancing, smiling, 'G.O.D'.
my soul, my little drum's drummer.
mi amigo. mi hermano. mi milagro.

i turned to the sight of 'The Devil',
his eyes lustly fixed on the mesmeric delights.
my keeper, the image of my alter ego.
mi amigo. mi hermano. mi milagro.

i rest in contentment despite my state of trance.
los tres amigos. the three amigos. so they say.
mis hermanos. my brothers. the proclamation.
mis milagros. my miracles. my heavenly givens.

-Josh.Nawan

perverted minds

she thinks her mind is corrupted because of her frequent sexual thoughts. deprive. her excuse!

less does she knows his’ is out of control.

with the absence of sex, masturbation arrays its troops of skills for her to utilize. hers ranges from dildos, rabbits, finger(s), long hard vegetables or fruits, shower heads and many other unimaginable ways her ‘wet’ thoughts takes her.

while his is just finger masturbation to her dirty thoughts. his’ ranges from 5 fingers for XL penises, 4 for L, 3 for M, 2 for S - XS, and a little-pinky-tap for the i-cum-at-touch penises.

dare she complain?!

her sexual mind is always on thinking-out-loud.

less does she realize his’ is on action mode.

with the presence of sexual thoughts, everything she hears becomes connotations of sex. everything she reads denotes sex.

for him, any tangible, visible objects suddenly becomes sexual. the things the tip of his finger touches sends his blood rushing to the head, making, thinking of the forms of sexual acts he can do. the sight of a female’s (any female) figure sends blood pumping to the already arousing penis.

she does not have to worry about a bulge in the crotch, he does! pervert she says mockingly when noticing him with one, but she gets to walk freely with a wet vagina. cibai!

perverted minds.

he always is, but she silently is.

perverts. aren't we all!

dear you

you said i was awfully quiet. i was.

... i found myself isolated in the serenity of overdosed narc numbness. my eyes were shut in blissful comfort. my skin, felt burnt , not of the sun but to the rising mercury my blood circulated. my throat, desert dry, optioned imaginary saliva in desperation for water. my ears, though deaf, found the pleasure of being so ...

but my little drum still beats to the sound of yours.

... to the wake of realism, i knew why i did what i did. thinking back, i wasn't so much of a consoler. i hadn't said much words that comforts. i hadn't got you the teddy-bear hug liked everyone had. i hadn't got my grotesquely long huge fingers wet, to wipe the art your tears drew on your cheeks. i hadn't ...

but my thoughts played the image of you.

... i realized then, there were options of roles i could play. i could be the bitch friend who would tell you how a substandard of a person he was. i could be the "wise" friend who would tell you why it happened with my rubbish philosophic knowledge. i could be the dumb friend who would try easing your emotional pain with endless supply of alcohol, but then got drunk before you did. i could ...

but i opted for just being me, the friend who, more than just believed in you, but to have faith in the choices you would make, although, had you ought to have the bitch, the "wise" or the dumb instead, it'd be somewhat a pleasure of mine.

" too much of consoling may drag emotional pain into eternal comfort to a point when, consoling became an insincere gesture act of sympathy and emotional pain, became an emphatic begger of solace. while, too much of my piece of mind may unintentionally affirm wrong answers and may confuse an already rugged mind. " - Josh Nawan.

just so you know, im already there for you, with you. regardless. period.

to you. and to whom who calls me friend.

*Josh + Ing Hui

genesis

it all began at,

[ www.xanga.com/munkeed ]

and now, the exodus continues here.