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Well… you are.

Damn it. I hate journals because they require a lot of upkeeping and in most cases, revealing a large part of my inner life (and flesh) to people. Updating journals is not a habit of mine, which explains why nearly six out of my six primary school teachers had problems with me handing them up. But here I go again. This is officially my fourth blog, created on the fifth leap year of my life — have you noticed that I just counted from four to six? 

My first blog ceased because I forgot my username and password (needless to say, blog URL as well) to the blogger account that I owned. The second was literally a rant blog that made enemies with the world; I had a shock of my life after a girl who read that decided to hold a lifelong vendetta against me. So after a hiatus of almost two years, I decided to resurrect a blog last November. This time it was conveniently a facebook application in my facebook profile. Three months later it met its demise when the application creators finally convinced themselves that their project was a flop. After much thought I decided to generate a blog again — during a time when the compartments in my brain are supposed to be shelved with lecture notes — under the name of The Po Pot, not to be confused with a former Vietnamese tyrant.

So this is it.
I come with the determination to update a blog regularly (which is such an easy task since I am 70% suffering from OCD)
I come with the defiance against people donned in white uniforms (which is unusual since OCD sufferers love pristine-white fabrics)
I come with the gratitude to the people who made my life slightly more interesting.
I come with the remorse of verbally abusing, or rather reciprocating the verbal abuses to the people who made my life miserable.
I come with the vengeance to deride lousy movies, restaurants, albums, problematic Hollywood celebrities and HDB estates with smelly lifts.
I come with the shamelessness to deprecate myself by making fun of myself and particularly my surname, as I already did.
I come with the guilt of not doing my tutorials but rather blog.
I come with the courage to confess that I did not do my tutorials but rather blog.
But most importantly,
I come with my trademark, acerbic, unfiltered and filthily dry sarcasm.

Behold! The Po Pot is born.