i hate to have too many off days in a row. they give me too much free time to do so many things. i mean, there's only so many sticks you can smoke in a day, so many minutes you can spend in the gym, so many calories you can take, so many episodes of Princess Hours you can watch and only so many times you can wank within 24 hours. by the time the sun sinks beyond the horizon and people starting asking you whether you want to go out for the evening, you feel so spent that you just turn down every offer. thus defeating the purpose (or at least my purpose) of an off day in the first place. this is why i think i'm a bloody boring person by nature.

so to kill time before my next working shift starts (which is like the day after), i've decided to do something more productive and therapeutic. ever since i came out of the closet, i haven't really had time to even clean up the sticky mess that i left in there. and i mean this in a literal way (the closet and cleaning up part, not the sticky bit). i knew i was gay from the young primary school years. but i really came out during the polytechnic years thanks to drama, a supportive group of friends and the ex-boyfriend. and i officially couldn't care less what people thought about my phallic tendencies when i was halfway through my stint in Brunei.

thus since October 2005 (21st birthday coincidentally), the wardrobe has deformed into this weird spectrum of the uber-gay to the uber-straight. it's like a combination of the best and the worst of the 90s. in there you can find baggy jeans (i shamefully own a pair of those Alien Workshop jeans that were so beng-hawt back then), polo tees (none from Giordano okay!), plus-sized Quiksilver tees (the relatives buy so many presents but always get the sizes wrong) and loads of XS and S Topman tees (in preperation for the future when i become damn hawt) and enough slogan tees to form a thesaurus. i think there are a few tops with rainbows as well.

as i was clearing out the really horrid pieces that i never even knew existed, i had so many of those 'what in the world was i thinking?' moments. i'm starting to believe that i go into these Emily Rose moments where some demonic (straight) spirit takes over my being and starts buying the whole Baleno and Hang Ten down. sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night wearing nothing but cheap crocodile briefs and an over-sized Giordano polo tee that has been washed one time too many. there are faded pasta stains and sweat patches under the armpits. it's things like that that freak the style out of me.

the next day i would burn the evidence and start cleaning out my closet. like today. and thus begins a new cycle of too many off days and cleaning out closets to reinforce one's gay self.

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