Another night of self pity.
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I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
I am me.
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Monday, November 06, 2006, 10:53 PM
I have a very sensitive nose.A nose that can smell things faster than anyone.
A nose that can differentiate perfume and odour in seconds. (who can't?)
A gift or something that can lead me to my misery?
Imagine some bangala who smell like they did not bathed for million years, sat next to me on the bus. I will faint lor!!!!
TMD, is not that I am racist.
I am fine with all religions or races but just that the fact that they smell like salted fish, just irritates my nose and make me want to throw up.
I hate taking train to Little India much less taking the bus there.
Bleah.
To reveal a little fetish of mine, I like guys who smell nice; wears cologne.
I am not specific about what perfumes but it must not be some pungent Indian oil.
I also like the smell of cleanly washed and sunned clothings. So fresh, so comfortable.
I will nuzzle to sleep with my "oh, smell so nice blanket and pillow".
Let me nuzzle to sleep now...