These incessant ramblings of self-gratification by yours truly are meant to be purely sarcasm-laden hedonistic tongue-in-cheek depictions,caricatures and personal soulful thoughts(im dead serious here), and to those who are unwittingly offended or whose having-fun faces appear in my blog without your prior consent , well u guys can either pour out your heartfelt grievances at the abovementioned email address (not that i would really care unless u add me on MSN and then we can start having sadomasochism techniques discussions) or you can be better off whining and complaining to ur mamas ;cause i obviously wont give a shit about your bitching; OR to your so called "Friends In The Neighbourhood"
- Buah2 Pley Fotostat -
[x] Quasimodo-
[x] Tranny Lover Ridzal
[x] Zaibal The Legendary Cook
[x] Where All Muscular Hunks Gather
[x] Firah is now a dormant hamster hibernating in the Ural Mountains
[x] Azzah Miss Sardine-In-A-Can!
[x] Aliah has a gayboy fetish & i swear its true
[x] Nizzam Benji Lookalike!!
[x] ANGSTY BLOG!!!!
[x] Kikin BSB Die Hard Fan Of The Year
[x] Napoleon Dynamite, Ex-Ninja Muscle
- Also tune in to these radio stations in your cities: OZ FM Bandung, Istara Surabaya, Geronimo FM Jogja, Gajahmada FM Semarang, Kiss FM Medan, Kisi FM Bogor. -
Cewek-Cewek Indon yg ingin dan berminat banget untuk ngobrol dengan kami yang dari Singapur juga dipersilakan antar emel ya.. waduh !
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Stolen Prayer
The embers of the saint inside of you, Are growing as I'm bathing in your glow I'm swallowing the poison, of your flower And hanging on the rising of my low Colourful , and falling from your mouth
Like a painted fever, in recoil Like a lie, without the pain
On a pillow of your bones I will lay across the stones Of your shore, until the tide comes crawling back.
A waning hand, on silver granite ways Will mend my broken limbs, and bend my haze I'm sleeping in the silence of your voice I'm cradling the peril of my only choice
Throw my pillow on the fire Make my bed under the eye Of your moon, until the tide comes crawling back.
Even though the truth can burn inside, or fall behind I will wander through your open mind And you will find, no lie can hide Until the tide comes crawling.
Like a painted fever, in recoil Like a lie, without the pain