The rumors are true. I am disgusting. I woke up at 5.50 am, then decided that I will not wake unless the sun wakes up with me too. (I believe the cosmos revolve around me like that.) Then I got out of bed at 8.30 and microwaved a burger from KFC and enjoyed the seasoned slab of factory farmed flesh on my plate. Then I was like, Should I still crash today's POP at Marina Bay? But there will always be another one. So I re-read some magazines and drank a rose vanilla infusion. Then I spent the rest of the morning reading food blogs and sticking receipts on my journal to old Burmese music, and now I am declaring that The rumors are true. And I am disgusting. And I hate the squiggly red line when I type rumours instead of rumors.
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