You say that you're afraid you're dead on the inside.

Dead people don't cry as much as you do.

You tell me you cry over me doesn't make me sympathetic,

I just feel fucking sorry for you.

For anything to be fixed, something needs to happen;

You're right-stop suffocating me.

It's been a near-sleepless week for me, so much stuff going on.

click to view illustration @TheNutGraph

Amongst other things, I've started a photography project with a friend (developing phase now); and my illustration on PAS's balancing act launches a new Comics & Cartoons column in The Nut Graph. It's a last minute illo (I changed it v late) done mostly on touchpad. I nearly drove myself nuts.

Webcam does many wonderful things, and I caught up with Jemufo over the weekend. She's studying in Spain now, and learning the language. 

This means I can now not-understand her tweets in Hungarian and Spanish. She could be bitching about me for all I know.

I haven't seen her face for so long, she has hair now! Well, by her botak standards anyway. I asked her good questions like what the girls in Spain are like, and she asked me difficult ones like where Melbourne is on the map.

Our second anniversary for our Facebook open-relationship is coming up. It's so wide open, we're not even dating. However, Marriagebot suggests that she will marry me, whereas I will wed my best friend. It also says I'll marry Daph, Nessa and Risha; all my best (and heterosexual) friends from Ipoh.

Jemufo didn't make the list (sorry baybeeee).

Nicholas is in Melbs for a week. Most of our conversations when we meet up begin with "I need coffee" and end in whatever cramped little cafe I've chosen to drag us to. Pic is when I brought him to see some graffiti laneways after, yes, good coffee in a cramped little cafe.

In this house, shut tight at night
I let go, and let my dreams take flight.
So I wish I may, I wish I might,
Be granted this wish I wish tonight.

I sat and waited, Day after Day,
And little by little, I had less to say.
Somehow, I... must find a way.
But first something I must do-
Put my pieces back together.
Weave my strands around forever.

I am not just a pretty face-
A face you can replace.
In your heart you must see,
Just how much you mean to me.

The weight of forever,
A question on my lips.
The touch of nothing,
Tingles on my fingertips.

O shooting star, o falling star, o any star at all.
Please hear my whisper and answer my call.
Just grant the wish I have, the wish I wished this night.