...and he is called Chester Ashton John sometimes the serial rapist,sometimes the wounded little puppy.I run this place, so bow down before me... or something. email/msn:This_sudden_injury@yahoo.com want to know me?hit ABOUTFACE below the blog header/title.it just got longer.
My mind is at the beach. Far from the daily habitual customs that ties me down day in and day out. I dream of the sun, far from the fluorescent lights above the library cubicle. The open grassy field, far from the clutches of formal education. We adhere to no sets of standards where we’re going. There we suspend our separated lives, suspend the belief of commonality of the working class, hold on to childhood reverie and relive misplaced nostalgia. I have once said that we’ll meet at far-off places, here we are in a land unknown to us, we are ready and willing. Here’s to wishful thinking.
High school ended two years ago, those were the fast times.
When everyone’s getting worked up on family building aspirations, I stay unchanged. The erosion of my youth hasn’t taken its effects. Maybe realization never came, do you remember being forever young?
We stop playing not because we grow up; we grow up because we stop playing.
Do you look back and admit or do resort to revisionist history?
existent.
the obvious is that my name is Chester Ashton John.Ashton is promounced Ash-ten.not like ten the number ten but ten as in badminton.simple?You don't get many Chesters in Kuching.at least i don't think so.no I'm pretty sure you don't.
you can spot me in every happening party around the world anytime all the time.superstar models front,side and back.its a tough life but someones gotta do it right?=/
that was during the Victoria's Secret new summer lingerie line-up party in Paris during the past month.
......................................................but who am i to boast about my high roller lifestyle.lets stick to something a little more normal.i am very into the performing arts.and guess what someday hope to see the realization of my very own indie film.including a ticket to Cannes.;) but sadly i will ultimately due to peer pressure and modern working class ethics will become an accountant. but that wouldn't stop me oh no.in tribute to Pink Floyd (one of the greatest progressive rock/psychedelic band of the 70's and 80's) shall name my movie "two suns in a sunset", a not so popular song by them but that name have always stuck on me for some reason unknown.
with that i would also like to state that i am very into music.mostly indie bands noone has heard of.i have this sticker somewhere that says "i listen to bands that don't even exist yet."its an ironic statement about elitist who take pride in listening to indie bands noone knows.i just enjoy the music better.thats all.im very into electronic music as well.i have a musical "side-project" called The Dance Party Corruption.its a mashup of electronica and indie and some snippets of audio from movies.wanna listen?contact me.
i love debates.as much as i hate saying that i do.especially on internet forums.on a certain site for Malaysian students.;) i like response.i like communication.human beings are social animals.no doubt.reading is a hobby that have come and gone for me.lately there has been a drought in my reading timetable.im sorry The Catcher In The Rye and 1984 that i have yet to finish.i will tho.wait for me.
i thrive on satire.i can be all sarcastic and angst.and i can be all calm and polite.i have my rights to be angry at things right?its a personal journal gone public thats what it is.i don't expect anyone to take my satirical and sarcastic views seriously.because i don't.i just write that way so fuck me.its for my own amusement.and most of the time also yours.as i said its public.for all to rip apart.=/
but i can be personal and fragile.because i am human.punch me i bleed.i will always be vague at doing it tho.that's why its personal.then why put it on the blog?because its the only way to get through to you.its your choice to read it.choice.that's what i'm aiming for.hoping one day you will be that one anonymous comment i've been waiting for.
i don't know why i continue writing on this blog.somewhere between ego and pride i think its because i want to show to people that i can write and i can construct complete sentences.maybe i keep writing to get enough hits to have ads up for pocket money.maybe blogging is the new black.maybe i just want to share.everytime i finish a post i feel accomplishment.another step towards world domination.then i shrug it off my shoulders.no matter the reason, its here to stay.indefinably.
so here i am.if you ask me right now about the 4 letter word i would say yes.because i still type in your number everytime i want to pretend I'm talking to someone on the phone whenever i feel awkward in front of other people.someday i hope a voice will come out from the speakers again.because i get in alot of awkward situations.i get uncomfortable all the time.and i key in your number.but the call button untouched.i feel comfort in that.because it has to be your number.i wouldn't feel save if it wasn't.
18 and dreaming
Sunday, March 22, 2009
My mind is at the beach. Far from the daily habitual customs that ties me down day in and day out. I dream of the sun, far from the fluorescent lights above the library cubicle. The open grassy field, far from the clutches of formal education. We adhere to no sets of standards where we’re going. There we suspend our separated lives, suspend the belief of commonality of the working class, hold on to childhood reverie and relive misplaced nostalgia. I have once said that we’ll meet at far-off places, here we are in a land unknown to us, we are ready and willing. Here’s to wishful thinking.
High school ended two years ago, those were the fast times.
When everyone’s getting worked up on family building aspirations, I stay unchanged. The erosion of my youth hasn’t taken its effects. Maybe realization never came, do you remember being forever young?
We stop playing not because we grow up; we grow up because we stop playing.
Do you look back and admit or do resort to revisionist history?
