<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d4394193242096349926\x26blogName\x3dantheasanthem.blogspot\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://antheasanthem.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://antheasanthem.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d8074768319631382658', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Thursday, April 09, 2009

I got invited to a reality talent show
by my boyfriend and his parents.
On the show, while on the air,
for some weird reason, I was asked to cut
his hair, then his mother's, except this lady was
not his mother. I remember a face, I think it was
that of my mother's. And I remember thin hair,
which, as I cut, became thicker and thicker.
Then, overnight, I became a celebrity.
Somehow, the next flash was of a filming set
of an action film, straight out of James Bond.
I entered a pyramid-like structure, and walked through
a public toilet, and got mistaken for the cleaning lady.
Then, when I went to meet the director, I was ignored.
For some reason, the director was on a platform
above the acting scene, shouting instructions
through a loud-hailer. He said, "It's time for reviews"
and began shouting points at each actor watching
while facing his platform and loud-hailer towards them.
When it came to me, the platform stopped on the floor
and he said, "Anthea, YOU'RE FIRED."

And that's when the gory bits began.

I walked towards him, and attempted to kick a TV set
showing the playbacks of scenes. The TV didn't break.
Failing which, he laughed and said, "I'm not that stupid."
Then I picked up a pencil, ran towards him and
STABBED him multiple times, while he was still laughing.

Then, I walked away towards a taxi stand,
where people were standing around, without a queue.
I searched my bag, and found, three penknives.
I remember, it was magenta, and clean,
much like those fresh from stores.
And, it was sharp.

I ran back towards the set, and slashed the director,
blood spilled, like a pool. It was deep red.
I could see his guts spilling out, all the while
he was laughing and pointing at me.

And then, I woke up.



Prologue
ANTHEA
15/10/1989, into fast cars, black/silver/grey, good foie gras, poker, a degenerate gambler. Hooked on appealing visuals and in love with the world's most retarded poker player, Lance.

Chatbox

Network
+ Facebook
+ Email
+ Rubbish Log
♥ Lance
♥♥ Yink
Sharon
Carmelita
Daryl
Denise
Esther
Celestina
Gerald
Guo Hao
Jacklynn
Jane
Michele
Nicole
Shukk
Sshroomss Past
Sshroomss Present
Steph K.
Steph O.
Ting
Xiao Ting

Designed by Shirleen/Jialing

Plurk
Plurk.com

Archives
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009