If I hear, see or read the phrase "Praise be to God" one more time, I am going to shoot balls. Just bear in mind that it could be your balls that I shoot.

Why do some people believe in God so reverently? See, if I truly believe in the Christian God, I'd have to take into account other Gods as well. Christianity is by far one of the youngest religions. The long fought war over which God is the true God has been going on for too long. I can't even remember how long the israelis and the palestinians have been fighting over the Holy Land.

What makes them think that Jerusalem is the Holy Land anyway? What if the one true God is Krishna? Couldn't the Holy Land be in Calcutta then? Or maybe our one true God is Buddha and the Holy Land that they fought for is actually is Beijing?

And what about all those other Gods in other religions that died away ever since the birth of Christianity and the Bible? Whatever happened to worshipping the great God of the Sun, Amun-Ra? Whatever happened to mighty Gods of thunder and war like Thor in Norway or Ares for the Greeks?

Killed by ol' JC, that's what happened to them.

If any Gods existed in the first place, I doubt if children in Somalia and Africa would still be going hungry, running around half naked with bulging tummies. Let's face it, if your God is truly powerful and oh so loving, he wouldn't let these people suffer.

But that's my take on religion and Gods. However, if you still believe in the Christian God just remember the below three when you say type or read the phrase "praise the lord"

1. Everything shitty happens to you because your God works in mysterious ways i.e. he doesn't give a rat's ass about your life. Even less than I do.

2. Everytime you look into the mirror, remind yourself that you're God's joke. He probably placed you here to have a good laugh. As as a matter of fact, if you have drawer jaws, he's pointing a finger at you rolling around on his big fat ass laughing out loud.

3. If you're born ugly or if your mom is ugly or if your kids are ugly (or retarded, I might add) then you should DEFINITELY STOP consulting God. He's not gonna help. You're ugly or retaded because of DNA blow-up. THAT MEANS YOUR GENES SUCK! You have a bigger problem than lack of faith. It's called DOWN SYNDROME! maybe your DNA DOES NOT have the standard double helix! Maybe it's missing one end.

A few issues. My 10 day shit didn't work. After the second day I feel like my walls are talking to me. On the third day I called and begged my friend to go out with me, just for coffee al-fresco. Rather boring but better than being cooped up at home.

My man finds it insulting that I should be writing about death and such on my blog. I guess he believes that I should be happy because he's around. Fat chance. Melancholy went shopping for an apartment one day and found a home in me. I think we signed a 50 year contract but I can't be sure.

The folks and the sister Cher are coming home today!! Time to celebrate. I must make a note here and tell the whole wide world that there is no better smoking buddy than my sister Cher. She's funny. Sadistically funny. Sarcastically funny. The level of energy is just right. Atleast you know she'll never fall asleep.

*sigh*

***Note to self: Take a step back, you're right at the edge, at the risk of falling back into sanity.

See, no matter how hard we try, we're not meant to be.

Isn't it time that we concede then?

Unfortunately for the world, I'm still alive.

However, I did ponder about how a person like me should die. Should I die a dramatic death, a quiet one or a gory death?

A dramatic one would be when I jump off the roof of Riverside Majestic. It's the only tall building I know where the roof is easily accessible. Of course falling 22 floors and hitting the ground at 50km/hour is not exactly easy on the eyes but it sure is dramatic, especially if my hand is still clutching my suicide note even though the rest of my body twisted into the weirdest position and half of my brain are still on the sidewalk.

My suicide note would read "haha! suckers! Eat brain juice!"

A quiet death sounds is probably the way I would really go. In my bedroom, with Nanak, surrounded with recreational pharmaceuticals and recreational organics. I'd prolly just smoke myself nuts and pop a lot of x. When I do finally come down from the trips, I'll pop valium to sleep. For the rest of my life.

My suicide note would read "Why drink and drive, when I can smoke and fly...into oblivion"

A gory one is simple. I'll just walk out into the streets, right into the headlights of an oncoming truck. The biggest one I can find.

My suicide note would read hmm..Actually, no suicide note. It'll have flown away while I was getting run over into a pulp. Or it will be amongst the pulp. Yum. Spaghetti bolognaise. I AM SO HUNGRY!! DOES THE WORLD HEAR ME! FEED ME!! DAMMIT!!

I hate society.

I hate people.

Yes. I hate you too.

Dipshit.

I am hungry. I have been hungry for days. There is nothing to eat at home. Those that know my household, they'd agree that we prolly have the most food in the fridge. The problem is having to cook them.

Got sick of delivery. I've been eating delivery everyday the first few days. Now delivery just makes me want to bash the delivery boy's jaw back into place.

Lack of transport doesn't allow me to go out either.

So I'm hungry.

I lack social life too. Then again, I've become more asocial these days.

Suffice to say, I want to die. Now.

How?

How do people cope? How do they wake up every morning and go out to battle the day? After 25 years of living, I can't even find strength to do it anymore. How do we tell ourselves that everything will be okay? More importantly, how can we even start to believe that?

I don't have answers and neither does God. Trust me.

Here's a new challenge for myself. Stay home for 10 days. As in not go out at all unless it is absolutely required for me to e.g. Father's day dinner at Gramp's place on Friday.

It's been 2 days.

My walls are starting to talk to me.

My senses are dead, thanks to MAS.

On my way to KL via our country's national carrier (not for long, if their services doesn't improve), I experienced the worst 2 hours of my life. EVER. The flight there was nothing short of a mini bar-mitzvah. I swear.

First, there was a baby wailing at the top of his lungs non stop for about 2 hours.To top it all off, his brothers and sisters decided to sing along to his wailing. Imagine sitting around for 2 hours listening to Rasa Sayang and other malay kindergarten jingles! I swear, my hearing is now fucked up! But, I did my best to block it all out and decided to go back to my latest addiction, Tycoon City - NYC! This game rocks.

But unfortunately for me, the lights along the side and upper part of the lights just wouldn't stop blinking. My eyes are still hurting. Even after three days.

Then came the food. I was about as hungry as a horse, not having eaten since 2 days before. As usual, it was chicken or fish. Why do they not give any other choices? Can't they make it chicken, fish or beef? What if I'm craving for red meat? But alas, there was no red meat for me. I chose fish instead and Oh My God it was the worst meal I've ever had in my entire life. My tastebuds died. I'm still mourning.

The landing was nothing short of being hit on the butt with a softball bat. Trust me, it hurts.

Finally, after 2 hours of near-death experience for me and for everyone else (yes, I think I might have turned either suicidal or homicidal if I had to take another hour inside that plane), I arrived in the beautiful city of Kuala Lumpur, hereinafter referred to as "SmogLand".

SmogLand is full of drugs. SmogLand is full of Indians and dark skinned people. My motto is "the darker the skin, the more I hate them". I'm not being racist, just American. heh! But I shall not digress.

Anyways, people that live in Kuala Lumpur are generally very unhappy people inside. Maybe it's the stress of being in such a huge city. Maybe it's the level of competition either in the workplace or social life. Bottomline, everyone looks too busy and too determined to actually enjoy their surroundings. Not that there's that much to enjoy over there. The air stinks, the people stinks, the cars and the fumes stink, the food stinks (except major fastfood lines) , everything stinks and if you live there long enough, the stink will stick to you like glue. Infact, the stink will even become hereditary that your kids and grandkids and great grandkids will stink too!

Gross.