Saturday, January 31, 2009
Running Downstairs at 4 In The Morning
So last night something strange and bizzare happened , i was lying on bed at about half past 4 when i suddenly hear my door slam. I get up and look around,and my door is open.Thinking i probably left it a jar before going to bed i merely get up and close it properly , i proceed back to bed and barely a mintue later, the door slams yet again. This time i get up and im slightly freaked.I then turn on the lights and inspect my entire room, and yep im the only one there. So for the second time i simply close the door properly,making sure it cant slam again . As i go back to bed i do note that my windows are both closed and theres in fact no wind to blow my door close, so slapping myself a couple of times and singing "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds" to make sure i wasn't dreaming, and i was off pitch when i got to the chorus so i was definitely not dreaming. So i lay back down on my bed when i hear the door click open slightly and my immediate thoughts are "Fuck die die die "So then i hear my door slam for the third time and this time not like it was left a jar and the wind blew it close but as though it was completely open and someone had angrily slammed it. I get up and and as fast as friggin james bond would whip out his gun, i flipped open my hp and shined my room in light and but of course my door was completely open and that exact moment i hear from right beside me , someone take a breath lean in to my ear and then sigh and mutter. And it was definitely not me, not a sound made by something but a definite person sighing and muttering and it was a woman. So after swearing in malay , hokkien and english at the same time i proceed to run downstairs at 4 in the morining.
Signing off @ 11:34 PM
On this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace soubriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona. Voila! In view humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the “vox populi” now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin, van guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.
The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.
Verily this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honour to meet you and you may call me Zameer Husref. Victorian.2I08.4I10.EX-NAPS. 6/2'06
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