Feel better, friend.

It is the year 2100 in Singapore. There is a boy and a girl. They are in love! But there's a war going on! Between whom? North Korea has beef with an evil alien scientist! A sentient virus is out to kill all humans! This boy wants to get into this girl's pants! Will North Korea wipe out the dangerous virus? Will the earth be defended from the aliens? WILL THE SINGAPOREAN BOY AND GIRL FUCK? (yes) Coming to you this fall, from NK Movie Studios, "NORTH KOREA WINS"

All the performers out there can't get enough of me. They just want to put butts in  me, or on me. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be crude. I mean to be smooth and sturdy, a supportive support structure. Give you rest after a hard day's labour. All of my men are your leaders - place me at the head of a table and you'll see power. You'll FEEL power while I help your posture. Place your gluts firmly on me, but don't fart, please.

Let me write wrongly -  should be  容易,  right?  Spel  Spell something short then cancel it out.  Replace the wrong with a right  or a left: this might take all night.  To be right or not to be, to be wrong that is -  that is the question.  To elongate my sentences, to create artificial lines of meaning that reach out  too far.  The space believes it can limit my words.  It probably can.  But in my mind, they float eternal 

Her eyes continued to widen with each passing second. She tried to keep up with her brother's movement as his darting feet twinkled over the court.  Everything Kor Kor did was magical.  He put the ball through his legs, behind his back, switched it from left to right - all in a couple of seconds. She wanted all of it. She wanted to do all of it.  With each made basket, she rose to her feet and yelled in jubilee. Nothing else in her entire world mattered. Her hands were red from relentless applause, her voice hoarse from shouting that can only be described as "too-much" and "too-loud".  Yet it was the end of the game that brought her the most joy - the moment when Kor Kor would ruffle her hair and give her a cheeky grin.  OH to be like him!  But she dipped her head to look at her skinny arms and bony frame. Basketball was a sport for tall people they said. They, of course, were absolutely right. But she would try anyway.  Try? Try why? 

At his feet lay the apparatus. It would take him anywhere - to the ends of the universe, and beyond. There, new beginnings awaited him. Lifetimes of adventure and discovery, promises of new-found friends and normally-fictitious foods. The stars, stretched supine across the heavens, stared back at him. He heard their siren call. They beckoned him, "Come!" He shook his head no. As the gods roared thunder overhead, he eased onto the ground. Laying his head on the apparatus, he looked upon the infinite sky. "How far I have come. How far I... have... come." He shut his eyes. His body brimmed with vivacity: he had come so far yet did not want to go any further. Because he was finally at rest. Finally willing to let wave after wave of darkness sweep over him, and sleep.

I dislike the saying "mind-blown". For each time the saying is pops up in my head after a... "mind-blowing" incident, it very rarely applies. It's more of a mind... scrambling. Like cracking a couple of eggs, then tossing the mixed eggs into a piping hot pan. My mind is beaten up, broken down -scrambled- I am utterly confused, a little afraid, then it reconstructs itself, slowly, but surely My mind forms again, ideas become tangible, and I am assured of who I am at that moment. A little wiser, a little more... complete. A little more, Delicious.