Best Millennium Malaysian Band Names Beginning with D












Ding Dong



Estranged but backwards










Eventually we remembered it’s Disagree.

Midnight road trip from Ipoh to KL.

I met a mostly butch trans woman at her workplace, and she had a cool red car with doors that unfolded like wings.

She caught me like a bear catches Goldilocks, sitting in her car with my date. When she walked off she was dressed femme, wavey skirt and denim jacket. I was trying to remember “didn’t she have short hair?” maybe she let it down after we were talking.

She seemed unfazed I had entered her space. She knows it’s a very cool car with a great dashboard design.

Sometimes I think about how there’s only one (or two) male human rights lawyer here in Malaysia i trust.

I hope he never does the kind of things I know the others do. I think it would break my heart.

“I love all kinds of cherries”

“There are many in China”

I’m so glad that chance brought the friends it did into my life today. Heals the heart.


1: […] for some aftercare”

2: did you mean to say self care?

3. Yes isn’t that what I said?

4. …

5. …

6. Yes.

I’m going on a cruise for a teambuilding exercise with colleagues and I just realised I’ve been dreaming about being a serial killer on a boat.

I thought it was my loathing for everyone triggering the dream but maybe it’s partially the teambuilding future too.

It’s hungry ghost month. I am carrying a huge negative vibe, and I know what that usually means. I hope I don’t bring any surprises to the office.

I am a serial killer — a white man with brown hair and brown eyes and khaki shorts (one side of my pant legs drops lower to my thighs). I stalk people through Durex hookup hashtags online. Used to be women too but now mostly just men. I am ruthless, efficient. I look like Dexter but Dexter doesn’t exist in this world.

There is loud thumping music. Techno. I’m on a giant ship. I wonder where work has taken me now. I’m in a kill room, full of evidence. I open the blackout curtains and bright light streams in. A float boat is going by my window, in a giant pool on the boat — someone dressed in black leather s&m clothes riding it on water. I’m on a boat and there’s a party and the investigative party are all VIPs. Of course I’m going to murder some ppl here. I’ve murdered some of my past team members, brutally. Harvested them. There are two members hot on my tracks, two guys. One is a white guy, brown office haircut, blue striped suit clothes. Tall. Grimace-smiles. Camera is always looking at him from worms eye view. I’m walking on the boat with a colleague whom I consider attacking later, if convenient.

I am on a date with a girl and she brings me to “the most punk” place which she wants me to appreciate. It’s a place that almost looks Tuscan. Warm sunlight and large columns. We park and enter. It’s a nursery and I’m holding a small plastic basket. I put some plants shaped like cucumbers in the basket. They look like cotton and feel like clouds when I squeeze them.

I also dream for hours I have to post something on Instagram for work.

You’re a friend but I’m sorry I’m allergic to Gramsci at 2am.

Also, why isn’t he fixing the shit he created

When I won’t do something for your comms, because consequences, and you replace me with a man who will, and then consequences, and you look in my direction for (free) consultation to bail you out of a situation I wouldn’t have created in the first place, and you’re not even the first this year, and how am I supposed to feel rly? Is this personal or is this something other women experience too? Being replaced with less qualified men definitely feels like a thing