welcome

Shopping for labels, shopping for love
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of
Shopping for labels, shopping for love
Manolo and Louis, it’s all I’m thinking of

I already know what my addiction is
I be looking for labels, I ain’t looking for love
I shop for purses while I walk out the door
Don’t cry, buy a bag and then get over it
And, I’m not concerned with all the politics
It’s a lot of men I know I could find another one.

What I know is that I’m always happy
When I walk out the store, store
I’m guessing Supercalifragi-sexy,
Nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him,
Tryna to walk a mile in my kicks

Love’s like a runway but which one do I love more
No emotional baggage, just big bags filled with Dior
Love’s like a runway, so what’s all the fussing for
Let’s stop chasing them boys and shop some more

I know I might come off as negative
I be looking for labels,
I ain’t looking for love
Relationships are often so hard to tame
A Prada dress has never broken my heart before

And, ballin’s something that I’m fed up with
I’mma do the damn thing, watch me do the damn thing
Cause I know that my credit card
Will help me put out the flames
I’m guessing Supercalifragi-sexy,
Nothing to be playing with
I love him, hate him, kiss him, diss him,
Tryna to walk a mile in my kicks

Gucci, Fendi, Prada purses,
Purchasing them finer things
Men they come a dime a dozen,
Just give me them diamond rings
I’m into a lot of bling,
Cadallic, Chanel and Coach
Fellas boast but they can’t really
Handle my female approach
Buying things is hard to say
Rocking Christian Audigier, Manolo,
Polo, taking photos in my Cartier
So we can’t go all the way,
I know you might hate it but
I’mma shop for labels while them ladies lay and wait for love



Labels or Love, Fergie





the greatest thing you'll ever learn,
is to love and be loved.


Is that all right,

Sunday, September 28, 2008 ( 11:59 PM )



It's a few minutes to the 3rd week of IPP,
wow, time really flies.
I miss the boyfriend, who's away in Boon Lay,
on virtually the other side of the damn island,
while I'm here weeping, feeling miserable,
actually looking forward to leaving and going to work every morning.
Looking forward to leaving and just.. leaving it all behind me,
and putting my efforts into work.

And I'm down with the flu, with a fever.
I think my body can't adapt to this, now,
work work work suddenly rest.
work work work suddenly rest. Hope I'll be better tomorrow.



She turned to him, shook his hands off her arm, glared right into his eyes.
His beautiful, beautiful eyes... full of hurt and pain and love and passion and so much more.
But she just felt waves of fear and sorrow come upon her shoulders, her heart pulsating in a morose beat she'd never felt before.
"Why can't you just let it go?" He reached out his hand to her, again.
She didn't seem to see it; she just collapsed on the floor, her palms splayed over her sobbing face. The rain washed them both, erasing traces of their tears, draining it away into nothingness.
After an eternity of tears and throbs, she drew a long, tired breath. He was still there, his hand outstretched, his eyes heavy.

"Do you know..."
she said, pushing herself off the grimy floor.

He stood, watching her. She did not take his hand.

"Do you know,"
she continued, standing up straight,
"what it feels like when your own mother doesn't want you anymore?"