Oh My Frickin' God

Hello people.

After a four month long hiatus, the Chaohai is finally back. For one post.

He plans to go out gracefully/properly, and promises not to be just another dead blog, stuck neither here nor there, devoid of closure.

When I started this (124 posts ago), there was this.. hole. It was a huge black hole, and blogging was akin to laying a ladder over the hole.

It didn't cover the hole, no, but it did stop me from falling in.

If my footing was steady. If.

I've found something to replace the ladder, and it sure as hell does the job.

She gets the job done, and so much more.

So much more.

Thanks for reading, and take care.

If ever you find yourself in a bind, just think.. What would the Chaohai do?

Much love.

Sniff.

Now where's that damn tissue?

By the way, I found the lost pen.

I Need To Learn

..how to let things go.

I lost my pen yesterday.

I don't think I lost it lost it yesterday, but I realised it was missing yesterday.

I need to learn how to let things go.

When realisation dawned (and it dawned like a hammer crushing my left testicle), it sent me into a chinese tea-charged frenzy.

I turned the whole house upside down.

Looked everywhere. I mean everywhere.

Maybe I left it in the car - shook the whole car down, floormats, even took out the spare tyre (it could've slipped into them small crevices yeah, could've).

Maybe I threw it into my wardrobe - took out every single t-shirt to make sure it wasn't in between any of 'em.

Maybe lovely huggable mummy stashed it away somewhere to keep it safe - fuck it then, could be anywhere. Looked in the store, looked in the master, looked everyfuckingwhere.

Maybe it fell under a couch, the TV, my lazy chair - that was me moving every piece of furniture which could be moved.

And that wasn't the whole story. That was barely half of it.

Man I really have to learn to let things go.

It's not really the attachment I have for the pen, it's not even how much it's worth.

Well, maybe a little.

But I'm not one to lose things! At least I'd like to think I'm not.

People who lose things are.. losers. I don't want to be a loser - literally or not.

Ho ho ho.

Got up this morning, looked everywhere again. For like the sixty-seventh time.

Even dreamt about it. Woke me up from my afternoon nap. I dreamt I had found it stashed in some drawer somewhere.

Realised it was a dream.. proceeded to go like FUCK TIU TIU TIU CIBAINESSSS.

The stupid thing is, I don't really have the time to waste looking for a pen.

My exams are tomorrow. No need for luck, baby - I'm way past that.

The pen belonged to the farmer. He gave it to me when he got a cooler, blinger one.

Losing it made me think childish thoughts, like how I didn't really like it in the first place anyway - there were gold accents on it, and I hate gold. Hate hate hate gold.

Plus the farmer dropped it or something sometime back, and if you look really really carefully under the light, there's this hairline crack that runs along the cap.

If you look really really really carefully.

Defense mechanism? Defence schwefense. Ugh.

Bloody hell I'm heartbroken.

And it's all because of a pen. My pen.

You know in certain parts of the world, they'd call me insane.

I need to learn how to let things go.