I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello.

Trying to make sense of all the hellos and goodbyes in my life.

And I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means I survived.

Since May 28th, 2008.

By clicking here,
you can see pictures of me naked.

i am usually a very patient person, and i don’t lose my temper easily but enough is enough and i’ve had it with those fucking rude koreans. how is it possible that in just one morning i meet 3 fuckers who are so far down the evolutionary ladder that i can’t even see the top of their heads from where i am positioned?!

for a society whose culture is still largely influenced by confucian values, who keeps harping on and making a big deal out of age, respect and social decorum, they are sure one fucking rude people.

i have been tolerant—accepting, even—of these protozoan organisms but you know what? fuck off. today was the first time since stepping on korean soil that i shouted FUCK in a congested subway train after the second cretinoid haplessly crossed my path. and when i met the 3rd one? she got a “stupid bitch” from me.

yes, i am sharpening my claws and you ill-mannered, ill-bred barbarians better stay out of my way.

(and the same goes for rude singaporeans, rude anyone. what is the point in being nice and polite when everyone else is behaving like they haven’t heard of the words “sorry”, “excuse me” or “thank you”?! i hate you people for turning me into one of you.)