By the time I hit 26 this year, it will mean that I've been writing for about ten years now.
Ten fucking years.
Hallelujah, Jimmy, call the press!
Wait a fuckin' minute, I am the press!
Damn straight!
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You were waiting for a long-winded essay on the joys and sorrows of being a member of the Malaysian press, now, weren't you?
Maybe you were expecting a vivid trip down memory lane with all the fascinating anecdotes on all of the weird encounters, amazing people and powerful emotions that I've experienced for the past ten years as a writer.
Well, you're not going to get it.
Wanna know why?
Coz that shit's all mine, motherfuckers, it's all mine and I ain't gonna share. =)
2 comments:
such fiery protectiveness...
Well, that's all you have left at the end of the day, Ayu. Good and bad memories alike, but ultimately yours, and yours alone. And I'm taking mine to the grave.
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