Going to the dogs.

I’m having a photo-shoot with dogs tomorrow. Labradoodles. 6 of them. 

Wish me luck.

pinkdot.sg

Hey y’alls.

Some of you might have noticed that Pinkdot link on my sidebar. For the benefit of those who haven’t heard of Pinkdot, it’s a movement that supports our people’s freedom to love, whether we’re lesbians/gays/bisexuals/transgender.

I’m not lesbian nor bisexual, but I do believe that these people have the right and freedom to love, openly. I happen to have gay friends, and they really are just normal people, like you and me.

It’s about time the rest of the world understands that love is regardless of sexual orientation. Their freedom is not a privilege that we can give, nor something that we have the right to allow. But it is something that we can give support to. Because really, what’s there to be ashamed of? Love does not exist on the wrong side of morals.

Do click on the Pinkdot link to simply just find out more, and show your support. Support the freedom to love.

Or simply click here: http://pinkdotsg.blogspot.com/

Hum with me.

I think I need a nose job. I really do. It’s quite disturbing sometimes, this helpless narcissistic desire of mine.

It’s 5.45am and I wish insomnia didn’t exist.

Goodness. I bore myself sometimes.

Where’s my muse?

I feel like a rag doll today. Completely uninspired. Anyways, here’s a word I came across today, and it’s simply atrocious. Brace yourselves.

The word is.. pulchritudinous. 

Yah. That’s the word. I took a second look, and I looked again, and I look for the fourth time, mouthing each of the syllables as I went by. What the hell was that? Sounds like a disease to me. So I looked it up, and its an adjective that simply means - physically beautiful; comely.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out why such a putrid word could imply something beautiful.  To all literary people out there, if you’re reading this – sorry man,  I can’t help it. 

Bah.

Hello, world.

You know how some of us have a million and one things to do, but never really get down to doing it? Especially lazy procrastining freelancing artists, such as I.

I’ve since resolved (today) to get my butt moving and actually start doing things, instead of just thinking about doing them. Then maybe I’ll actually achieve something substantial, you know? Instead of getting by, the usual, blah.

There were so many things to do, and I wanted to be too many things, which is ridiculously impossible. I wanted to be a dancer, a painter, a musician, a writer, a photographer. All these, excluding a list of other mundane stuff which could go on to infinity. Who could be that insane? It’s a bloody ball of a mess.

So I’ve actually made a proper list of things that I want to do. Here goes:

• Learn to cycle. (Yes. In all atrocity, I’m 23 and I damn well can’t ride a bicycle.)
• Learn to play jazz. (I play the piano, and it pisses me off that my repertoire is limited to classical and pop.)
• Lose 10kg! (I just have to fulfill my own narcissistic desires.)
• Resume dancing real soon, after I’ve shed my flabs.
• Pursue a certificate in Make-up
• Be able to bake & cook decent food
• Get a driving licence
• Learn 5 new words everyday
• Pursue photography
• Hold a solo photography exhibition. Soon.

So that’s about it for now. They add up nicely to a list of 10. More will be added to the list to replace those tasks I’ve accomplished.

Time to get moving! Let’s GO.

Yes, that's a grin. A positive-come-on-let's-go grin.