Blog when I care...

Yes, I am angry.

2012-01-26T01:08:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Here's a huge problem that we're facing nowadays: communication. And it's either we have no way of getting out of communication or lack thereof. I shall explain.

Communication has become an omnipresent entity today. Everyone has a handphone now. Heck, we don't even use the word 'handphone', we use words like 'blackberry', 'iPhone' and 'android'. There's no way of being alone. I find that rather scary. Not only that, we have Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, and that social networking site that enables you to tell the whole world your current location on a daily basis. It's funny: you'd tell the WHOLE fucking world where you are having dinner or where you're going and who you're going with, but you will never tell your parents.

There's fucking nowhere to run. We're becoming so dependent on such communication tools that ironically in the end, we lack the very same thing. We lack the ability to fucking communicate. There's an increase in the number of people who are able to talk but can't write, which is somewhat confusing for me since if you're on the internet the whole time and typing, shouldn't you be able to write better and talk worse? WRONG!! In fact, writing and talking skills are both deteriorating among students nowadays. It's not shocking at all really, when you're getting song titles like 'What Yo Name Iz?' (fuck, even the grammar is wrong) and shit like that. Or this increasing trend where people would talk in cat language or 'lolcats'. An example of that would be: "Can I has Cheezburger?" or shit like that too.

I've always hated social networking sites. This is because I don't believe that you should tell the whole world what you think and what you do. I hate it when someone pours out a problem on Facebook instead of actually facing the problem in real life. They should face the problem directly. And I have met a lot of people like this. Trust me I have, and most of them lack the ability to talk or to express themselves. You give them a paper and a pen, still, they'd find it difficult to express themselves. You give them a tumblr profile, give them the ILLUSION that they're alone and they're anonymous, and you'll get endless updates of expression. We are lacking the ability to talk because we are not practicing. That's a no brainer if you ask me. To be able to talk you need to practice talking. To know what to say, you need to fucking read. And I don't mean reading stuff online. I mean go to a bookstore and buy yourself a book. And I don't mean Twilight or Murakami or stuff like that. I mean philosophical books, books about history; English history, Egyptian History, religions and analytical essays. An average Japanese reads 10 books in 6 months. An average Malaysian reads 1 1/2 books a year (Malaysians are so fucking lazy that they can't finish the 2nd book they pick up), so start reading. Now, why these books and not story books? Because you will learn to state opinions, talk, and fucking gain some general knowledge while you're at it, because you lack some of that too.

Not only that, people get so addicted when they're on Facebook that they just HAVE to go on, even after signing out. You even become so addicted to notifications on Facebook that when you actually see one, you just HAVE TO check it out, even if it's just an invitation to a stupid game. Tell you what, next time you see a notification, take a fucking deep breath and sign out. After signing out, get out and walk around your neighborhood. Go find a good bench to sit on, and start reading that fucking book I asked you to buy at the bookstore.

And that's just the social networking sites. Then there's imgfave.com, or 9gag.com or any other sites of that sort where you can view a bunch of photos one by one till you see something you like. When you do see something you like, you are given the pleasure of sharing it on tumblr, facebook, or twitter. See? It's an endless loop!

In the end, people who go to imgfave or 9gag will just browse through, without actually taking time to look at a photo properly because these very websites have turned them to goldfishes with a fucking 2 second memory. They look at one photo, forget about it, go on to the next one, forget about it, off to the next one etc. This brain and mental conditioning will go on everyday, depending on how often they go on these sites. Soon enough, they will find it hard to remember important things in life. They will forget family, friends, and sometimes partners.

And when it gets to the latter, you know something is fucking wrong with us humans.

Contentment in 2012

2012-01-24T22:00:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Be contented. Yes, there are people who are greater than her. There are people who are more attractive, more intelligent, more caring, and more fortunate.

That's life: full of temptations. But don't be deceived by those things. Because didn't you ever realize that there are people who are also greater than you?

Yet, she chose you.

What a post to start the year off. I've been mucking around lately but it's time to steer this life towards a brighter path, not too bright though, cos I might get a headache.

Pleasures

2011-11-10T22:08:00.000+08:00

Kids,

We find that the requirements of our bodily nature are few indeed, no more than is necessary to banish pain, and also to spread out many pleasures for ourselves. Nature does not periodically seek anything more gratifying than this, not complaining if there are no golden images of youths about the house who are holding flaming torches in their right hands to illuminate banquets that go on long into the night. What does it matter if the hall doesn’t sparkle with silver and gleam with gold, and no carved and gilded rafters ring to the music of the flute? Nature doesn’t miss these luxuries when people can recline in company on the soft grass by a running stream under the branches of a tall tree and refresh their bodies pleasurably at small expense. Better still if the weather smiles on them, and the season of the year stipples the green grass with flowers.

of Zombies and Drama.

2011-10-27T22:20:00.002+08:00

Kids,

I sense a shift in the whole media entertainment industry. I'm talking specifically about movies and tv series. I'm sensing that movies will never be as interesting as they were before, because tv series are more interesting now.

Movie makers will have a hard time I'm guessing, in trying to make movies that will somehow "entertain" people, and get highest gross rate, breaking previous box office records and all. This is a slow process, but nonetheless, there will be a day when movies are rendering themselves more and more insignificant. Why?

Well, let's just look at tv series that came up in the past few years. There's CSI (all of them), Heroes, Lost, Prison Break, and many more. Now there's The Walking Dead. I've been watching The Walking Dead lately, and seriously, the standard of tv series has just gone far up. It's like watching a movie, except that there are more sequels, and it's not boring. It's like the whole Harry Potter series, except that they don't have a one year gap between the sequels. The make-up is incredible, the set design, CGI, even the sound design, everything is just amazing. I would say that tv series is the next movies.

Why would I want to sit in the cinema and watch a movie, when I can sit and watch a tv series on my laptop, and have a better experience?

Movie genres are turned into tv series now because tv series have one thing that movies don't: time. There's so much time for tv series. They can have as many episodes as they want and because of that, they get to pay attention to the characters, each single character. Movies sometimes can't do that. Most of the time, movies can't do that, only one or two characters would be the centre of attention.

When there are more characters to focus on, there are more levels to play with, and a wide range of audience will get attracted. Some target audience wouldn't watch a zombie movie, but they'd watch a zombie tv series because there's more attention to the characters, and not just people blowing off zombie heads. It's because the director's got time on his hands. That is the great advantage.

I bet that if Harry Potter were to be a tv series instead, a lot more readers would be happy because the director would have more time to pay attention to the small little details in the books. Now some people may say that the video quality of tv series can't surpass that of movies', but look at Prison Break, Lost, or even Heroes (the first tv series that uses A LOT of special effects and CGI, that are actually the same standard as those in movies), the mise en scene (the make-believe world that's being put on screen) is just remarkable. Tv series are getting more budget, and with more budget, they can be as good as movies.

But also, that being said, tv series can sometimes focus too much on the characters, like soap operas. Well, that's totally up to the director and his/her team to figure out and plan.

But I believe that one day, movies are going to get cheaper (in every sense of the word; insignificant, half-assed etc) and tv series will get a lot more attention in the future. Aspiring film-makers of the younger generation should switch and aim for tv series instead. There's more money there.

HAHA!!

2011-10-10T01:49:00.002+08:00

Just a random thought: why is God always portrayed as wearing white, has long hair and a beard? Maybe for that particular picture it's Jesus. But still, why the beard? Well, maybe because it's Jesus. Why the white robe then? The purpose of clothing is to cover our naked body. Does God have a body that he wants to cover up? Who made that robe for him? He has facial hair, does he have hair at other places too? Why is God being portrayed as very human is that picture? Is it because he's the Son of God? God's word being made flesh therefore he speaks like us, wears clothes like us and grows facial hair like us. I created a microwave. Do I have to be the microwave to understand how it works? Do I have to heat, spin, defrost, time, beep like a microwave? I have the power to be, but why would I choose to be? Didn't I God, created choice to begin with? Why do I have to be subservient to my own creations and become like them? If I choose to be, then does that make me more compassionate because I care?

But Morgan Freeman was God in Bruce Almighty. He had a beard there. But he's black. Is God black? God is omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient etc. Could he be omnigen as well (I created that word up by looking at a Latin translation of the word 'race')?

Why would you draw God if you don't know how he looks like?

They're as delicate as you.

2011-09-15T16:00:00.000+08:00

Kids,

I have been thinking too much again. Is it a bad thing? I don’t know anymore. The fact is, I’ve been very angry lately. Too angry. I am angry at every single thing right now. It has been 4 months now since I’ve taken up photography. I have been practicing all this while. The more I think about photography, the more it attracts me and the more I want to practice it. It is highly direct, highly philosophical, highly metaphorical and at the same time almost primordial.

I have been thinking of taking photography really seriously, as in making money by selling my photos. I want to do something with it. I want to change something. I just don’t know what I want to change. Maybe I should start with the way people take photography nowadays.

I am very angry at the fact that people, and by people I really mean teenagers, are taking worthless photos and calling their works ‘real photography’. Honestly, to hell with that. I don’t see a point in taking macro-shots of a piece of pie that you’re eating at Starbucks with your DSLRs. Whatever happened to photos with meaning?

I walk around areas like Pasar Seni, Masjid Jamek, Jalan Tunku Abdul Rahman, Pudu and a lot of other places where grittiness can be found. I look for dirty pictures, not sexual but unclean. I guess it says a lot about me at the moment. I really am kind of restless nowadays. I want to capture moments; moments which are beautiful to me in the dirtiest of places. I never knew that I can express how I feel through photography. To me, you can’t see light without darkness. I would spend almost the whole day walking through the alleys of Pudu to look for a good photo to take. And it’s not tiring at all. However, walking alone can be pretty boring and I would feel lonely from time to time because there’s no one I can share this passion with.

What sickens me, though, is when I meet people who are interested in photography; they are not interested in the same kind of photos that I want to take. They prefer to take close-up pictures of a cup on the table with a blurred background, or a picture of a landscape, or a macro-shot of an insect. To me it’s ironic that you take pictures of life but the photos are so dead. Photography now has become a trend, not a passion. That makes me angry. There’s a need for me to show these people the bigger things you can do with photography. People have forgotten how important a photograph used to be. Photography is ultimately very important. People believe pictures. It’s a photograph that in your passport, not a painting. George Bernard Shaw once said “I would exchange all the paintings of Christ for a single snapshot of him.” That’s what the power of photography is.

This is why I started off with an SLR instead of a DSLR. I use film instead of digital because I know that if you want to learn photography, you have to start from the basics.

In the quest of trying to find a person who has the same passion as I do, I’ve met people who are just plain annoying when it comes to photography. They know nothing about it, and yet they boast around about buying a DSLR for thousands of bucks. I will admit now that I know that I just started 4 months ago, I am still learning and I haven’t yet grasped the true meaning and technique of photography; I still have a very long way to go and I accept that reality. But still, the thought of people having forgotten about capturing meaning behind the photos they take just aggravates me to a point where I feel that I have to change that.

To hell with photos of landscapes or buildings or macro-shots of insects. To hell with lomography effects. Personally, to hell with people who take photos with lomo cameras in general. Lomography is just another trend to follow. Fine by me if you want to buy a cheap piece of plastic for 400 bucks just because the photos will look ‘vintage’ once they’re developed.

Fuck.

Something's up with the Font fuction.

2011-08-16T23:24:00.001+08:00

“It’s not true that I’ve forgotten everything, the memories are still there, hidden in the grey tangle of the brain, the damp bed of sand deposited on the bottom of the stream of thought: assuming it’s true, that is, that every grain of this mental sand preserves a moment of our lives fixed in such a way that it can never be erased yet buried under billions and billions of other grains”. – Italo Calvino

Often, and time again, as I try to sit down and write this essay about my first class with Eddin, or any essays for that matter, I would return to Italo Calvino’s The Road to San Giovanni, and be reminded about the way essays should be written:

“I am trying to bring a day, a morning, back to the surface, moments between dark and light at the dawning of that day.”

The constant yearning to write something “back to the surface”, or moments which were important in my life, in the most complete and truthful way so that the past remains pristine and untainted by the encumbrances of my thinking process, would already stop me from even trying to start, or trying to try.

I joined the Performing Arts course back in March 2009. It was around January of 2010 when we had our Traditional Malaysian Theatre class. By this time I was already interested in the more intellectual side of arts. I still remember meeting Eddin Khoo for the first time. He walked out of the department office, talked to my senior for a while before heading off to the classroom. I thought he was Malay. His fashion sense; shirt, slacks and black shoes suggested that he was a serious man. We entered the classroom and the arrangements of the tables and chairs were quickly changed. We all sat in a circle. He sat down and folded his legs, leaned back on the chair and brushed his hair with both his hands, looking up. He looked relaxed and ready, but at the same time he had this commanding presence, an aura that gave a sense that he knew something we didn’t. The classroom was quiet all this while. Needless to say, this was when everything changed for me.

My father was a man of great wisdom and awareness. He is always aware of the bigger picture, and more often than not I would overhear him talking on the phone, telling the person to ‘look at the bigger picture’. He was born in 1950 and he lived a simple village life in Dong, Raub in Pahang with his grandparents. He moved to Besut, Terengganu to live with his father for a while when he was around 12. His father was a policeman and he had to move to different towns quite regularly because of his job. After a year or two my father moved back to Dong to live with his grandparents again. My father studied hard all this while and even now he still reminds me that he was one of 15 Malays from all over the Pahang state to enter Form 6 and that he used to study for the exam with an oil lamp because electricity and water didn’t come to Kampong Dong till the late 60’s. The only school in the whole of Pahang which offered Form 6 back then was in Kuantan; the Sultan Abu Bakar School, now called Sekolah Menengah Sultan Abu Bakar, and my father went there. My brother and I went to that school too from Form 1 to 5. My father studied hard and well and he eventually became the first among his other 9 siblings to enter university. Now, he’s 61 years old and runs at least 2 companies. He told me that it might have been a disadvantage to be raised in a kampong because he suffered from inferiority complex. It was difficult for him to approach people because he felt smaller than them. Was it a disadvantage? I’m looking at the bigger picture now and I think, “It was definitely an advantage, Pa”.

It would be questionable as to why I wrote about my father’s life when I’m supposed to write about my experience with Pusaka. The reason is I have suffered inferiority complex just like my father did but in a totally different way. The Malays in Kuantan didn’t want to hang around with me because I was the son of a ‘rich man’. Because of that, I had a lot of non-Malay friends instead. When I entered the performing arts course in Kuala Lumpur, I personally thought that things would change but strangely no. The Malays in KL thought that I was from a kampong in Kuantan. I have to agree though; I do live in a village called Kampong Balok. When I entered the orientation session of the performing arts course, some of my classmates thought that I was a Mat Rempit and I also remember a classmate of mine saying “C’mon guys, let’s show this Kuantan boy what KL’s made of!”, after we watched our first theatre show together as a class in Pasar Seni. I even got a “you don’t look like the type [that reads a lot]” but that was from a Chinese. Honestly, I hated being Malay for awhile. I felt smaller than them and had little self-confidence just like my father felt when he was a lot younger.

The lectures Eddin gave were, to me, very inspirational. I realised that there was a bigger picture to look at: my roots and my culture, two essential things which I have forgotten. What are my roots? What is Malay culture? I began to question these things more and more. Around this time I still hated being Malay but listening to Eddin going on and on about ‘the sense of self’ I started to wonder about my individuality and that I shouldn’t hate being who I am or ignore where I’ve come from. At the same time, I felt ashamed because here was a man who was not Malay but knew a lot about Malay culture and traditions. I knew almost zero of it. Can you really go anywhere if you don’t know where you’ve come from?

The hatred disappeared when Eddin brought a few of us to Kelantan after that semester. I would say that the hatred didn’t disappear straight away, rather in stages. We took a bus to Kelantan but the driver stopped in Raub first, my kampong. We got off the bus and I stood looking at the [find the name of that medan], just staring for awhile. This was the place where my family would drive to during Hari Raya. It was rare for me to be in Raub without my family being around. That made me miss them a whole lot but at the same time I felt safe being there. I felt proud to call Raub my kampong. “C’mon, let’s show these KL people what Raub’s made of!” If only I knew more about this town. I didn’t know much about Raub even though I go there almost every year actually. There was a certain level of guilt as well when I was staring at the town. I felt proud but because I knew so little about this place, being completely ignorant about my roots, I started to believe that I have no right to be proud. I was being a hypocrite.

Such a mardy bum.

2011-08-09T23:12:00.001+08:00

Kids,

I found this one that I wrote quite a while back. It was saved as a draft. When I read it back, it's quite interesting. Didn't know how to continue off from where I left it though...

It was gloomy so he just stayed in his room alone. Talked to the same old friends, didn't feel like getting out, not until it was time to go. It all happened so fast he didn't even manage to catch what happened.

She spent the whole day indoors watching TV. She decided at around 7.30pm to walk outside. It's already dark and very cold. She decided to walk to the end of one of the piers that were built alongside the beach. It was quite scary actually. She could see the end of the pier but the background was pitch black. The wind was not that strong but it was really cold. She stood there, at the end of the pier looking at the night sky, and also at the horizon. All she could see was just blinking lights that were coming from the ships in the distance. All this while she kept thinking about him and about her personal problem; a problem that she hadn't told him yet because she thought that he was balancing his own problems.

She sat on the bench on the pier, in the cold windy night looking at the city lights, thinking of what that has happened; what has happened in her life. To make any kind of sense of it, she has to go back a few months, back to when she was still together with him. She hated to bring him up, but she had to just to make him understand her problem.

It was the best time of his life, being with her. He took every problem and just handled it as best as he could. He was at peace. Not everyone was happy though about this but he didn't care, he was in love, nothing bothered him when love took over. Now it's all gone astray. It's harder to open up now. Being picked up and talked to about issues became harder and harder. He kept reminding her that this was all a phase that would soon die but she refused to believe him.

He couldn't blame her. They were competitors then, now she was her man. How it all began was a blur.

Deviations

2011-08-07T20:42:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Just a quick one before I go and take a dump (seriously). I have met with a lot of things that have shaped me to who I am today. I haven't been writing on this blog for quite some time but let me tell you this: I'm beginning to believe in myself and I'm beginning to believe in what I'm capable of achieving. I am beginning to change.

Of course, in this whole process you still have to meet up with the people who know you for who you were, not are. That sucks sometimes because it's hard for you to be who you are, cause then your friends will find it hard for them to accept you. But you know what? If they really are your friends, they'd just accept you anyway. We're growing up. Don't blame growth. Growth changes things.

As for me, I have been doing a lot of juggling in my life since 5 months ago. Believe me, 5 months is quite a long time to juggle my life. To lose 200 pounds on The Biggest Loser takes 5 months, ask the contestants. If you keep doing something for 5 months, you will see what it results to within yourself.

The result is: I am really able of coping with this even though I feel that at some time I'm going crazy but at the most basic essence, I can cope with this. Also, out of this, I have changed in a way that I can sense when things are getting a bit on the bullshit side. I guess that's a good thing.

So, with that I just want to say: if I come across as different to you, don't judge. Don't judge because you have no idea what I've been through in the past 5 months. I tell ya, I feel glad that I'm going through this. It's not everyday that a 20 year old can experience something like this.

Now let me go and take a dump.

Time to start anew...

2011-07-06T11:15:00.005+08:00

Kids,

Interrogate yourself as deeply as possible. It’s not about what you think but how you think. This has been in my head the whole time. It’s rather difficult to keep my brain on over-drive at all times. I’ve been doing a lot of walking with Jaka and he told me a lot of photography techniques. I kept asking him what he sees when he’s taking a photograph, because he rarely ever takes one when we’re walking together.

There was one time when we were in the LRT train on the way back from Masjid Jamek where I asked him why he didn’t take any photographs that day. His reply was deep: “there were no pictures”. I was dumbfounded to be honest. What does that even mean? Of course there are pictures, just look around; there are so many things to take! When he does take a picture though, he’d talk about lines and shapes in the photo, and how they compliment the subject matter. I have no clue what he’s talking about.

Ismail Hashim, however, is the very definition of ‘diam-diam ubi berisi’ (there’s no English proverb or word that best describes this). He’s a very quiet person to me, but everything he says is brilliant and quotable. He told me that photography is simple when you know what it means. The word photography comes from Greek; meaning “drawing with lights”. This corresponds to what Jaka said: you have to look at lines, shapes and lights and you always have to make sure that you compose your shots. Compose is drawing. Both words have the connotation of creating something out of nothing. When composing your shots, look at lines, shapes and lights. Make sure you draw with them. Ismail also explained about the rule of thirds where you divide a shot into 9 segments within the frame and making sure you place your subjects at the right segments to create maximum aesthetic value. He told me ‘with every calamity, nature will always be beautiful’, so don’t worry about the shots that you take because “when in doubt, take that picture. Photography is very much like fishing. The fish that got away always seems bigger. It is the same with photos.”

It’s ironic though. I started the internship to focus on music but I am learning more about photography instead. I’m getting very interested and I really have to try this out.

It’s a Monday, 17^th May. By 7.43pm, the lighting and sound equipments have all been set up and ready to go. Jaka and Ismail were already taking pictures of the Main Puteri performance space. The performance that night was a teaser. I knew something bigger will happen the next day. Surely enough, on the 18^th, the performance had gone to a totally new realm of unparalleled beauty and insanity. Being amused wasn’t really what I felt while watching the performance. It was purely awe. The Tok Puteri was as if telling me subliminally “you’re not sure what you’re feeling, so I will show you what it is”. I just found out that my granduncle passed away a few minutes before the ritual started and I can’t help but think that that wasn’t at all a coincidence. Could I have watched and observed the performance at a more personal level than that? I don’t believe so. The Tok Puteri kept poking the patient until she got up into an elevated state and wrestled with the men. I wanted to be the patient at that moment. The ritual was poking me but I couldn’t let myself go, not like that. She was in the process of being liberated again. I was not. In the end, I was left alone in awe and isolation. It was the same feeling as listening to Dylan singing that one line: “everything about you is giving me misery”. How the hell does he do that? The line encapsulates everything that is honest about love. And the ritual on the other hand, encapsulates everything about being resah. The Tok Puteri was projecting what was going on emotionally for me and the closest way of getting a sense of that liberation that the patient had was, for me, to cry to sleep that very night.

I kept thinking about the 2 fundamental Kelantanese concepts: angin and semangat. They are such complex yet succinct concepts at the same time. It really is the correspondence between our individual temperaments (angin) with our essential life force (semangat) that gets us motivated; able to move on with life, social pressures and difficulties of living in community that forces you to suppress your individuality. The irony now is clear back in KL: people are so obsessed to be different but in the end become the same. But it’s when you stay the same, stick to your individuality, that you’ll become different from the rest. It’s now understandable as to why governments plan to institutionalise and suppress the people, for they don’t want to get their hands full with so many “individuals”.

Going back to the correspondence between angin and semangat, every traditional Kelantanese performance has those concepts. In Besut, watching the Mak Yong performance for 8 hours straight was really draining. It’s not my favourite performance and it’s quite boring. One of the reasons is because Mak Yong seems to me as something out of this world. Even with the Main Puteri, we can still relate but with Mak Yong, it’s very strange and totally other worldly. It had a very mosaic quality to it. From afar, you’d have this wonderful sense of colour, a big composed image but as you get closer, everything just pixelates and suddenly you realise that it becomes truly surreal and you can’t really understand what is happening. I couldn’t really relate myself to Mak Yong from a surrealistic point of view. What I could though, is the sense of being in a state of longing for something or someone. The wailing encapsulates and shows that constant pathos throughout the 8 hours. The kind of emotions that are at the core of each performance is important to take note. Sadness is very much at the core of Mak Yong. Mak Yong helps the patient release that. It’s also important to note that Mak Yong is always done with a Main Puteri. The healing elements of Main Puteri correspond to the releasing elements of the Mak Yong. It is very much about releasing than it is about healing. You can’t heal sadness, because sadness is in all of us. It’s the constant variable. We’re only happy to fall back into sadness. You cannot heal sadness, but you can release it for awhile to be in a state of serenity or peace of mind. This is why Main Puteri must be done alongside Mak Yong. When sadness is kept inside and is not released, other emotions will come through such as anger or frustration that is let out in an aggressive manner. These are the emotions which are at the core of Main Puteri. The Tok Puteri heals this and slowly the patients come back to sadness which would then be released by the Mak Yong. Crying and wailing are good things. They’re never bad. They should never be kept inside us and get bottled up. We are human beings and with the inability to feel or release such emotions will only turn us to mere plastic robots.

Both the Main Puteri and Mak Yong performances ended on extremes. The sudden burst of energy of the Tok Puteri when the palace was being taken away literally made 4 men struggle just to pull him back from being with the palace. It was all very fast, and suddenly he was overcome by complete listlessness. The Mak Yong ended with, not much sadness, but also a feel of forgiveness of one another and acceptance. It was as though by releasing all the sadness, the patients have to come to terms with each other and are ready to move on with life. The correspondence between their individual temperaments and essential life force has gotten them motivated and now they were able to move on.

It’s the 24^th of May. Wayang Kulit was performed this time. Though surprisingly short, lasting for about 3 hours, I was fixated by the performance. It was not my favourite as well because the separation between performer and audience is distinct. This automatically renders Wayang Kulit as a form of entertainment. If shadow puppetry could talk it would be saying to us, the audience “please sit and watch on the other side of the screen, for which we will take you to a super-reality”. Super-reality is the best word that describes the Wayang Kulit. It’s not surreal in any sense of the word. The puppets bring us to reality that is elevated higher than what surrounds us but not too far as it will become surreal but almost in the state of being between realism and surrealism. I was fixated mainly because of this. I was still able to make sense of the performance even though it’s in a different realm because I knew what I was seeing was the performer himself. You don’t see the performer, but you could see his essence in the puppets he controls. His essence is the souls of the puppets. But this wouldn’t be seen if it wasn’t for the bulb hanging right in front of the Dalang. The bulb is between him and his puppets. Symbolically, the bulb, or light, is the prerequisite for anything at all to happen. “God said ‘let there be light’ and there was light; and it was good”. Light is quintessential for everything to live and live on, including the puppets. However, the puppets need the light for a different reason. Light doesn’t give them life, the shadows do. They live through their shadows. The puppets need light to show us that they exist, and they are alive in their shadows, and ironically we humans hide in ours.

To me, Wayang Kulit is the simplest form of entertainment in Kelantan but also the most complex. It is essentially a projection of us, from the stories being told which are still relevant in today’s modern societies, to our relation with shadows or darkness. The wonder of finding this connection and irony of shadows; how essential they are for the puppets to live and assert their presence and also how scary the shadows are for some of us humans, is very exciting. As the puppets live gracefully in their shadows, we sometimes fear ours. The shadow puppets are, in the most basic essence, a projection of our deepest and darkest shadows. Even the weirdly shaped Pak Dogol could just very well be one of many facets within our subconscious. The gesture of the Dalang’s hands moving up on the screen and clinching them tightly and takes them to his mouth is a gesture which has so much symbolic value. He draws our attention to his hands and grabs it tightly and not letting it go. Our energy is now with him and the energy becomes his. We have no control over it anymore, for the numbness of our brains to have neglected the shadows within us are all his now to play around with and for the puppets to live off of. There is so much more to the things that we think we know from afar that the closer you get to it, the more complex it is, not the simpler it is to understand. And this is apparent in all Kelantanese traditional performances.

Even with the Dikir Barat. As it was performed for us as a celebration, it was indeed consisted of many celebrative elements which, relates a lot to our human impulses. Dikir Barat creates energy, and is overflowing with that actually, rather than taking it from the audience like how the Wayang Kulit does. The Dikir Barat will always be oozing with immense energy, and we would just soak that up like a dry sponge. The energy really was delicious. The intense clapping and shouting done by the men were all done with complete feel and wholeheartedness. The sweat that’s coming out of these men, from their forehead and frowns, and with heat that could literally be seen evaporating from their heads, are not the same as the sweat you get when you jog or play squash. This is literally their angin taking over each and every one of them. And each of these individuals was sitting towards each other in a circle, focusing on one point in the middle. This is very similar in traditions and cultural beliefs in other parts of the world. A Shaolin Kung Fu monk can use his finger to break a wooden block by focusing all his qi into one single point to create a force that precedes the amount that the block can withstand. Though that energy is used and directed as a weapon, the energy in Dikir Barat is used to hypnotise the audience, and titillate the young women. The expression on Lili’s face when she talked about the guy that performed will never escape my mind.

The clapping that was done, to me, dictated our heartbeats. You see, the intensity of the performance touched me in such a way as to feel drawn to it more and more as the hours passed. My heart was racing and beating very quickly every time they started clapping. I could imagine the pain of the clap, how much that would hurt their hands because it’s so loud, almost louder than the speakers amplifying the Tukang Karut’s voice. The claps were commanding the beats of the heart, making the beats fast but never slow. In a way, the sounds of the Dikir Barat were our own impulses. The shouts were done with the loudest volume the performers can get to and they would do anything to get to that volume. The louder, the better. And I can’t help feeling the need to do the same because it looked so satisfying to release all your frustrations and anger with just one loud shout. Well I can’t deny that that was what I was feeling at the time; the feeling was an impulse. I was so drawn by the energy that if I resisted it any longer, it would drain me. Why the need to deny this impulse anyway? This reminds me of one of my favourite quotes: to deny our own impulses is to deny the very thing that makes us human. What are we if we don’t feel the need to shout at the top of lungs once in a while?

I need to sleep.

2010-12-18T03:06:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Sometimes you can have inspirations at the weirdest of times. It's late at night and I can't sleep, I think I'm having insomnia; kinda doubt it though. I should have texted her but I don't think I want to disturb her rest. Sorry baby.

I've always had this idea that if you can still see light in the dark, you're still not in the darkness yet. Another way of saying it is that, if you can still see the light, it means that there's still hope. Now I've always talked about hope; that it's the source of your greatest strength or greatest weakness. But hope could also be a good thing which drives you to achieve your dreams. If there's hope, why not go for it?

And I've learned that you can't please everyone. So don't even bother. What you have to do is just make sure you please the people who are most dear to you.

I don't want to be afraid anymore. But what's good about fear is that it makes you think. I think that I don't want to think. I think that I should go for it, because I think there's hope. And if there's hope, why not go for it? I will try and make it work Cupcake :)

And I've been listening to a lot of people saying how religion brings chaos in the world etc. I think they're missing the point though. When you first embrace a religion, you don't straightaway preach it and try to practice it towards the people. Religion is never about bringing people together, at least that's not the main priority. The main priority is the individual. It is the individual's inner spirituality that's most important. The first thing you should do when embracing a religion is to work on yourself first, and then you work on your relationship with others. It's only logical: once your relationship with yourself is good, you would feel contented with your life therefore your relationship with others would be better as well. And I believe any religion would teach people not to hate. If one embraces that, that's one less person who hates religion in this world, and one less person who brings chaos because of religion.

I guess a lot of religious people are skipping the first step and are going straight to preaching to others about religions, completely being oblivious to the fact that they are not spiritually contented to do so. Atheists, on the other hand, are sitting at the corners comparing the existence of God with the existence of a unicorn, and somehow making it seem like it's an intellectual comparison. Pfft.

This blog is dying, but I'm trying.

2010-12-14T21:21:00.002+08:00

Kids,

So yeah, this blog is dying. I just find it hard to write nowadays. I've been going through a lot of stuff that are new to me but somehow I just couldn't find the drive to actually write about them. Maybe because it's just too easy and shallow.

I always find joy in looking at things and figuring out how they tick. And by things I mean human emotions. I guess everything is moving too fast and I'm experiencing all this emotionally but forget to acknowledge how I feel. I think it's time to acknowledge how I feel about things again from now on.

Dear Daphne

2010-12-14T21:18:00.002+08:00

There's no easy way to say this so I'll just say it, I met someone. It was an accident, I wasn't looking for it, it wasn't on the make, it was a perfect storm. She said one thing, I said another, next thing I knew, I wanted to spend the rest of my life in the middle of that conversation. Now there's this feeling in my gut she might be the one. She's completely nuts in a way that makes me smile, highly neurotic with a great deal of maintenance required, she is you, Daphne. That girl is you.

That's the good news. The bad is that I don't know how to be with you right now. And that scares the shit out of me. Because if I'm not with you right now, I have this feeling we get lost out there. It's a big bad world full of twists and turns, and people have a way of blinking; missing the moment. The moment that could change everything.

I don't know what's going on with us and I can't tell you why you should waste a leap of faith on the likes of me. But damn you smell good; like home. And you make really nice iced Milo with milk, that's gotta count for something right?

Call me.

I'm faithfully yours,
Shah.

To Daphne

2010-12-14T20:07:00.001+08:00

Kids,

Considering the fact that I have nothing better to do, I thought it would be awesome if I challenge myself by writing an analysis about something totally subjective, and put into account the subjectivity of this topic in relation to its objective aspect. And while this topic has everything to do with the word “love”, I dare say now that I’ll be using a lot of this word in this analysis.

The diversity of the use of the word “love” makes it difficult to directly define what it is. It refers to a wide range of feelings, states, and attitudes and not to mention interpersonal attraction. It is this diversity of definitions, mixed in with the complexity of feelings that are involved, makes it really difficult to explain. Having explained the ambiguity of this word, analysing this relationship, our relationship, now seems rather easy because it’s within the context of ambiguity.

Though ambiguity comes after when you try to define something, I’m not trying to define our relationship but rather explain how it works even though it has many ways of working itself out. Also, on some parts I might have to keep it general as in “generally all relationships” rather than just ours. Let’s start. Firstly, what makes it special? What is special to begin with? When you look at relationships, the words that encompass this would be words which are subjectively defined. There is no definite and general agreement as to what is considered special. It is the same as love; there is no definite agreement as to what is love. It’s safe to say that ambiguity is the reason why love and relationships are so special. It is shrouded in mystery for someone who is not in a relationship to try and explain it. But for someone who is in a relationship, it is so clear. Generally, it is clear for a couple but what’s unclear is the fact that it’s difficult to explain how clear it is. Why is it so hard to explain something that’s so ‘straight in your face’?

This is because love involves feelings. Feelings are different in each and every person. Although everyone knows what happy and sad is, those feelings are basis for deeper and more complex ones. Some feelings are too complex that they become unique and one with the person. We have to start by analysing a person. We talk to ourselves a lot. We talk about many things, too many that the topics move so fast it’s hard to grab one and focus on one. The language that we use when we talk to ourselves is feelings. We feel a sentence, rather than really using words. When we feel love, we feel love at different levels. The complexity of these differences makes it one with ourselves because we feel it. Love is like happy and sad. Love is the basis for more complex branches of love. That is why a relationship is special. That is why you’re special to me, because what I feel for you is something totally indescribable. “You make me go ‘I don’t know’”.

Due to this, it’s understandable as to why you can stare at me and generally say I’m nice to look at. The only closest way to explaining why you like to stare at me is to say that and yet it seems really basic and again; ambiguous. I may be wrong here. I’m just analysing this subjectively.

Why is it that in a relationship, we would do things that the reasons for such doings are very ambiguously hard to explain? Why do I wake up in the morning, knowing that the first thing that I want to do is to see or kiss you? This goes back to trusts and wants. There’s always a need to want something that we can’t really have. Obviously, what we want to have is something that is positive. There’s nothing bad in embracing each other in a relationship because as human beings, we are subject to primordial instincts. Communication is only one of many channels that serve as outlets for the primitive instincts. This may sound rather banal, because to know that ‘love’ is a very primitive thing, it totally dismisses the sweetness of ‘love’ in the first place. However, because it is a primitive instinctive feeling, to channel it through words or through communication will definitely cut down on the amount of unseen honesty that is within those words. This is why words can’t really say how much we love each other and in the end, we would just result to a kiss; a kiss that is worth more than a bunch of words being jumbled up together.

Obviously, love brings happiness. Shockingly, love brings happiness in the saddest of things. Love gives a feeling of hope, which could be the very source of your greatest strength, or greatest weakness. Love makes sadness seem beautiful and loneliness seems very tragical. When we look at a couple in a relationship from a 3^rd perspective, we could see that the couple look so stupid with each other. The male would seem very girly and who knew that being in a committed heterosexual relationship can make a guy so gay. This is, however, the perception of an outsider. As we step into the world of relationships, the activities that are done are not for exterior purposes, rather interior. The male doesn’t do seemingly gay things to his partner because he wants to be seen like that, but he does that to better connect with the partner and no one else. It is a side of him that the girl has never seen before, and vice versa. To relate this idea with us, I would never think that I’d do things that I wouldn’t have thought that I would. Stating those things would do harm if there’s a 3^rd party reading this. You should know.

Love also tightens the bond between the male and female. What’s amazing is that boredom will never come up in a relationship, if the couple are really in love. In a period of separation, either one would want to have things to remember the other by. The things would range from a sweat shirt to a hand phone. Why such things though? This is simple. The things have already been used by the other. It’s the closest way to feel that he/she is with you right now when actually he/she is away. What’s even more important is that we have our own special smell. These are actually excreted by the hormonal glands, with the sole purpose of attracting the opposite sex. This explains why perfumes are not really that helpful when it comes to attracting people. That is why you like my natural smell. The owner of that hormonal excretion wouldn’t like the smell because it’s his/her own. The point of the hormones to be released is not to attract the owner, rather to attract the other. Obviously, it works.

Every relationship experience is fresh and original. It can never be the same. It can never be a convention. What makes it a convention is solely because of media and some people prefer to aim for that because it seems sweet and romantic. I totally disagree with this notion. What makes our relationship sweet and special are the “conventional-breakaway” moments. We define these moments as ‘sad’ moments but in reality, those sad moments are original and original to us and only us thus making them sweet and special. The moments are only for us to share and no one else. The moments are even more special when they are not planned. The sense of irony in an unplanned moment gives a sense of fate or destiny.

I can write more actually, but you would have already guessed that if I’ve written this long, surely I might get a headache sooner or later. Anyway, I’m not sure whether you would want to read this though. For some reason, this analysis is rather special to me because I’ve tried my very best to put feelings; complex ones at that, into words. This sentence is very general but I want you to know that the feelings involved in this sentence are far beyond it: I love you.

Switches

2010-11-05T17:34:00.004+08:00

Kids,

I may not be the man who knows a lot but here are a few things that I found out about this little thing called life.

One thing's for sure, nobody cares about what you want, you just have to go with things. Another thing is that the food industry is one sickening industry. I'd like to elaborate more on the latter.

An idea struck me for quite some time now because I've been reading this book about how the food industry has the same behavior as the tobacco industry, in terms of how it advertises its product and avoid a lot of the health issues that came in with the product itself. What's shocking is this: if a food product is mass produced, it can never be good for you.

Imagine this, we eat a stupendous amount of meat. The Americans eat 1 million meat an hour. An hour! And that's just the Americans, what about the whole world? Globally, it's 50 billion. That's a lot of meat!

Now, think of the enormous industry that has grown up around the process of growing, feeding, housing, slaughtering, butchering and shipping all that meat. In short, raising cattle is not like how it used to be. Everything is being corporatized and centralized into main companies. 200,000 cows in a single cattle farm would stand around in a swamp of their own feces, getting pumped full of grain, anabolic steroids and bovine growth hormone.

Also, beef factories are models of waste-not-want-not efficiency. Very little of one of these cows are discarded. Leftover bits and pieces are scooped up, ground together and fed back to the cows. I'm not making this up.

And then those cows are ground up and fed to you. It's not rare to find two or even more (even 400) cows being ground up together into one single patty.

I'm getting sick just talking about this. My main point is, these patties are mainly distributed to fast food industries, and the foods they serve in McDonald's is not healthy, even by a long shot. McD is not the only one, all of the fast food chains are bad for you.

We've gone from the old fashioned farming, ranching, raising, food handling and preparations to mass produced, mass marketed, chemically enhanced processed food. And processed food is not really food, it's chemicals. I feel like I'm living in a science experiment, a huge one at that.

And due to this, the percentage of obesity is rising around the world. People are neglecting properly cooked food and just decide to eat out. Everyone's eating out nowadays, and the food out there, let me tell you, is not good for you. Especially fast foods.

The awareness is rising so don't worry. But now the food industry is targeting a different audience: kids. This is why the food industry is being compared with the tobacco industry because the tobacco industry did the same thing back in the 60's when there was awareness about the negativities of smoking. They turn to kids, or younger people, and promote their products to them, by giving toys etc. Kids will then nag to the parents and throw tantrums so that the parents will buy that Big Mac for them. I'm not exaggerating the nagging part either.

There was actually a marketing study put out in 1998 called The Nag Factor. It was done to help advertisers and marketers learn how to target kids better, to get them to nag. Evil geniuses.

Apart from that, I'm trying really hard to start eating proper food. But it's difficult because I'm surrounded with all this convenient fast food restaurants. Sometimes late at night I would get really hungry and fortunately McD delivers and is open 24 hours. I really don't want to order it because it's unhealthy but I would be too lazy to cook by myself. And that lazy factor is what's stopping me from cooking my own food and eating something way healthier. But then again, even if I want to cook, this stupid Sun-U Residence won't allow me to cook too. Fuck that.

Understand it.

2010-09-27T17:17:00.004+08:00

Kids,

We love.
We hate.
We live.
We die.
We like.
We dislike.
We're sane.
We're insane.
We're quiet.
We're noisy.
We're smart.
We're dumb.
We're slow.
We're quick.
We're shallow.
We're deep.
We love God.
We hate people.
We love God.
We don't forgive.
We love God.
We can't move on.
We move.
We're still.
We hate the people we love.
We don't love.
We contradict.

In a nutshell kids, we are all hypocrites. It's funny how you can hate a thing so much because you love it. This is the exact essence of what a paradox is. Hate is something that you want to have to distract yourself from the truth. As I have said before, "God" is a very sensitive topic to talk about. No one knows why, maybe it's because people prefer to stay in the bubble and refuse to pop it.

Think on it.

Introduction

2010-09-03T00:44:00.001+08:00

Kids,

A basic introduction about myself. Just view it on full screen, it'll be easier on the eyes. Cheers.

I try to love this country.

2010-08-31T22:09:00.005+08:00

Kids,

Selamat Hari Merdeka. What does 'Merdeka' mean to you?

You know, I always get this question being thrown at me around this time of the year. I'll be honest with you, I can never answer this question because I know it will be wrong. Why? Because the person who asks me this question already has an answer and is ready to reject mine. So why bother?

My foreign friends asked me today "how come you're not celebrating your independence?" and I just told them "I don't want to". This made them think that I'm not a patriotic person. It got me thinking though. What constitutes patriotism? For my Pakistani friends, they celebrate by shooting AK-47's in the air on the streets. For you and me, that's totally crazy and very Taliban like, but hey, for them that's patriotism.

When I look back at my country, patriotism is instilled in a different way and is taught in a different way. On Merdeka Eve, the Prime Minister would talk in front of the camera about Malaysia's progress as well as history, obviously very boring. Proceeding to the following day, there would be a big performance by students from different schools, creating a giant Malaysian flag on the field. There will be patriotic songs being played and in the end the Prime Minister shouts "Merdeka!" 7 times. Now I don't need to go out the Dataran Merdeka every year to know this. It ALWAYS happens. While some people might take celebrations like this as proofs of their patriotism for the country, I tend to feel that Malaysian patriotism is just a repeated loop.

And another reason why I don't celebrate independence is because I don't want to be around people who don't appreciate this independence like I do. Mat Rempits throwing fire crackers and roaring their high pitched motorbikes on the streets is not my way of showing my love for this country. Very honestly, I don't know how to show my love for this country. It's difficult because no matter how much you want to show your love for this country, this country will fuck you up in the end in one way or another.

And also there was this post on Facebook that I read about a Chinese guy being beaten up by a Malay gang during Merdeka Eve. He wrote it down and asked everyone to spread the story. Of course I feel very sad for him, but the thing that caught my eye was the fact that he blamed 1Malaysia. He wasn't alone, apparently a lot of comments about the post pretty much said the same thing. Some even promoted increased hatred towards the Malay race.

This is sad for me because they're not seeing the bigger picture. 1Malaysia has nothing to do with the gang beat up. Absolutely zero. It's just another government-driven ideology that is more or less ignored by the majority of Malaysians in this country. I'm pretty sure that the Malays who beat up that Chinese guy don't know what 1Malaysia is about. The bigger picture here is that there's an increasing number of people being racially driven, who are labeling people's races before seeing their true colours: that we are all of the same country. These people are very race conscious to a point where even their own kind who are slightly different, slightly progressive intellectually, would be seen as the other.

There should be a need to connect and bond with each. The only reason why we hate each other is because we don't understand each other. As for the Chinese who commented on the post saying 'Fuck Malays, now I really really hate them', you are nowhere even slightly different from the group of Malays who beat up that Chinese guy. Not all Malays are like that, and not all Chinese are as innocent as that guy.

In actual fact, race has nothing to do with the gang beat up as well. In the end it just boils down to religion. And religion is a very sensitive issue in this country, for God knows why. There shouldn't be any. If we can understand other religions, then we can live more harmoniously. The Jews and the Christians lived in Madinah under the Prophet Muhammad's rule harmoniously without any dejection from Muslims. This is because it was already understood that Judaism, Christianity and Islam are of the same originator: Abraham. With this in mind, Jews, Christians, and Muslims lived harmoniously and as one. This proves that the only way we can live harmoniously with each other is to have a level of comprehension.

I can go on and on about this issue without knowing when to end. I guess I should end it now. In the most basic essence, before we start accusing the other, whether it be the high powers of government or people of different races, we should look at ourselves first and question whether we understand the other. Don't be so shallow, take the time to understand others.

I'm bored.

2010-08-29T17:43:00.002+08:00

Kids,

I have this bad thing that I always do. When I'm on Facebook, there's always this chick who always changes her status. Apart from the obvious fact that no one gives a shit about what she has to write (by no one I mean me), when I read her status updates, I would always figure out a comeback to prove her stupidity, by any means necessary. My friends have told me that she is a very smart and independent girl but, I don't know, it's not that I don't believe them, I do, it's just that I like to think that she is stupid. It's more fun that way.

I just want to share the updates that she has written, over here and I'm gonna write some of the stuff that I would think just a split second after reading her status updates.

Status update 1:
Going off to Chili's at Empire Gallery for dinner tonight.

My thoughts a split second after reading that:
Good for you. You decided to put that up cos you want someone to eat with you?

Status update 2:
Feeling lazy and bloated after dinner at Chili's tonight so I decided to call off clubbing.

My thoughts:
Oh boo hoo. Really? I really wanted you to go clubbing though. (Note for the slow: I don't really care)

Status update 3:
Woke up from a nightmare. It's been the same nightmare almost every night. My friends were being killed and mutilated by some masked serial killer and all I could do was watch helplessly. I feel so disorientated now.

My thoughts:
You woke up from a nightmare and the first thing you decided to do was to write it down on your Facebook status? Man you really need a life.

Taking a break for awhile. There's too many updates. I've checked and I found out that she updates every two hours. For Friday alone she has around 10 updates so I'm too lazy to write them all. I'll write the best ones.

Status update 4:
First time staying at home and chilling out on a Friday night. Just don't have the mood to club anymore.

My thoughts:
No it's not your first time. And you only wrote that you don't have the mood because you want people to think that you're not dependent on clubbing every week in which case you are.

Status update 5:
Was partying with the models, Reshmonu and a couple of club owners. Free flow of Johnny Walker kicks ass!

My thoughts:
Let's see, she's obviously trying to show off with the whole models, Reshmonu and owners thing. Simultaneously, she's also proven me right: she is dependent on clubbing every week. (But according to the time difference between update 5 and 4, it's only a day. So technically, she's dependent on clubbing every day.)

Status 6:
It's a Sunday. No more partying. Today, imma chill, have lunch and catch a movie at Pyramid :)

My thoughts:
Who the fuck cares seriously?

Status 7 (my favourite):
My IQ went down after watching Vampires Sucks.

My thoughts after reading that (and drum roll please):
Good lah, not much difference in your IQ then.

NAILED IT. Also, it's Vampires Suck...not Sucks.

Faithful in seperation; true in love.

2010-08-01T00:39:00.002+08:00

Kids,

He met a girl so lovely and that he was instanly struck with a yearning that he could not understand. Her name was Jasmine, "gift from God" from the Arab 'Yasmin', and like the flower she was white and beautiful. Her eyes were those of a gazelle, her lips two moist rose petals. Jasmine, too felt an emotion for him she could not comprehend. The two children were drowning in love, though in their youth they knew not what love was.

It was as though love were a wine-bearer, filling the cups of their hearts to the brim; they drank whatever was poured for them and grew drunk without understanding why.

They kept their feelings secret as they roamed the alleyways and passages of the city's markets, close enough to steal a furtive glance and share a giggle, far enough not to arouse gossip. But a secret such as this cannot be contained, and a whisper is all it takes to topple their kingdom. "Harun and Jasmine are in love!" someone said on the street.

Jasmine's parents were furious. Her father removed her from him and banned her from seeing him again. Harun could never come over to their tent again. Her mom vowed to ensnare Harun if he ever came near. But one cannot stop the baying hound away from the new moon.

Harun, slowly and steadily, grew mad. He was mad, it is true. But what is madness? Is it to be consumed by the flames of love? Is the moth mad to immolate itself in the fires of its desire? If so, then yes, Harun was mad.

Clad in rags and stripped of his sanity, Harun left the city and wandered aimlessly through the mountains and wastelands of down under, composing mournful poetry of his beloved's absense. He's homeless, an exile from the land of happiness. Good and evil, right and wrong, no longer had any meaning for him. He was a lover; he knew nothing about love. He abandoned reason and lived as an outcast in the desert.

In his madness, he went into loneliness. Pushing through the crowd of thoughts in his head, he rushed into a sanctuary and hammered upon its doors, shouting "O God, let my love grow. Let it blossom to perfection and endure. Let me drink from the wellspring of love until my thirst is quenched."

"Love is all I have, all I am, and all I ever want to be!"

He fell to the ground, heaping dust on his head, cursing himself for the weakness of his passions.

Meanwhile, trapped by the restrictions of her parents and forced to abandon her love for Harun, Jasmine was plunged into a lonely darkness. She suffered as deeply as Harun did but did not have his freedom. She too wanted to live with the beast of the desert, to declare her love for Harun from the tops of the mountains. But she was a prisoner in her own tent, and in her own heart. Without her radiance, Harun's soul is like the ocean in a winter's night, whipped up by a thousand storms. Like a man possessed, he roams the mountainside, screaming and shouting. And there is but one word on his lips: "Jasmine".

"The blame is all mine," Jasmine cried, flinging curses on herself. "I am the one who has set fire to my lover's heart and reduced his being to ashes." Desperate, she went to her mother. "I only want to see him, to look upon his face for a little while, to bathe in the light of his countenance for but a moment."

Her mother was doubtful of such demands. This only made Jasmine more desperate. "Could you not bring yourself to break your vows of seperation between me and him even when you lay your eyes on my tearful face, just for a second? Could you not understand the magnitude or the opposite of such, of the emptiness within my soul when he is nowhere near me? I beg of you to just understand." She pleaded.

In the distance, Harun felt it. He felt the cry and the plea that came from deepest abyss of her heart. "Little does anyone understand me," he thought. "Do they not realise that their idea of happiness is not the same as mine? Do they not see that while it may be possible for them to have their wishes granted in this life, my longing is something else entirely?"

Breather

2010-07-31T12:08:00.004+08:00

Kids,

Just want to step back awhile and review on a few things. I know that I have been saying that I pretty much don't care about this blog but honestly, I'm beginning to see how much it means to me now. I was reading the posts that I have written before and compared them with the ones I've written recently and I realised that my writing has somewhat changed. I guess this blog is a place for me to practise, in which I am grateful. I mean, I could just practise my writing some place else like my notebook, but the acknowledgment that I get from the readers shows how much my writing is good or bad. But that is only for my own personal gain and growth.

I decided to put that traffic thing last month because I wanted to get an idea of where the readers are from, so that I can know whether the readers are the people that I know or don't know. It's interesting to get some readers from other countries, which have led me to decide on another thing.

Though I am still unsure about this, but I may want to take my blog more seriously. I seriously don't know what the hell that means but yeah. 4000 over views is a big number so I thought I should write more frequently. This is because I saw the lack of posts this year. I've never written more than 4 posts in a month this year. But there's a reason for that. One is the lack of inspiration for me to write something and the other is the time that I spent on college.

In short, let's just say that I'm beginning to see how my blog can be a good investment for me. Not only that it provides the emotional playback of certain events that happened in my life when I read them again, it also provides the chance for me to apply and share what I've learned into my writing.

I only have very vague plans for this blog, one of them is me writing more fictional stuff; short stories that come from the heart. I do want to write the stuff that I'm doing but I'll do that only when it's really different, like the gay club thing.

Also, I'll be deleting some posts which I find not really meaningful. I'll delete my very first post and I'll go on from there. I won't delete anytime soon though because I want to look back and read them first. You can suggest which post that should not be deleted. That would be great actually.

Anyway, thanks for reading this blog and thanks if you're a frequent reader.

For Irmela

2010-07-30T19:20:00.002+08:00

Kids,

I say to her, "escapism is in all of us, very much like goodness. Everyone has good in them but no one is good. It's very similar; no one escapes. Scary isn't it?"

Indeed it is. The ball room is filled with the noise of performances and people chattering away and eating. I ask her whether she wants to escape the noise and talk somewhere quiet. Outside, we keep talking and talking for almost an hour. We don't even realise this. I'm getting more and more interested in her. She has a quiet nature and petit body with an aura of inescapable mystery that surrounds her which is amazing to me. It's a beautiful interior which beautifies her exterior even more. It's a pity she doesn't believe me though.

We're clicking faster than I have imagined. This doesn't bother me because there was silence when our eyes locked in the ballroom. Just silence. When she gave me that inevitable, unavoidable smile, the noise in the room just disappeared. That was the spark of the click. The first of many clicks that would get in the next 4 hours before she's gone forever from my life.

I'm always a sad person. I think sadness is the foundation in all of us for it is permanent and not ephemeral or temporary as happiness. We are happy to only fall back to sadness in the end. And in this moment, I am both happy and sad. Presently, being with her makes me really happy but the fact that she has to go back to where she came from deeply saddens me. I got an idea.

"What time are you sleeping tonight?"

"3am, maybe," says she.

"Alright, it's 11pm now. So we got exactly 4 hours to spend time together before we never see each other again. What's the first thing you wanna do?"

"Let's go to the beach."

At the beach, we sit next to each other on the soft sand. She gives me her shawl for me to sit on. In the dark horizon afar, lightning and thunder dance in a seductive cadence, dancing closer and closer to us, where the waves crash repeatedly in the cool windy night.

We talk again for a couple of hours. Germany is so far away but it is never impossible to go there in the future. I like weather, especially lightning. Interested in a lot of stuff. She is too. We keep on talking. She's been playing the cello for 9 years. That's funny, I've been playing the violin for 9 years.

A sudden realization comes. In a split second, or in this case 4 hours, this will be gone. I want so much to hold on to this, for it brings me to a better place. I'm thinking on what can possibly happen in the future. I really like her. If mutual attraction could stop, can it not break but disappear instead? It's getting late and I'm not used to sleeping too late. Being lethargic doesn't really help in trying to focus at the moment. Being lethargic slows down any quick brain activity. I guess I know that I'll miss her too much. I don't think I mean what i think I mean. I think I mean something but I don't think I mean it.

We decide to go back to our rooms and change. It's not comfortable wearing my suit all night. I am wearing shorts and a t-shirt now. I hope this is not too casual. Outside in the corridor, I look for her but she's not there. Maybe she decided to just go to sleep. That cannot be, I know she would want to see me again before she leaves. Where is she? I walk along the corridor and still, she is nowhere to be seen. I could feel my heart beating faster. I'm starting to think too much again. Consequences, frightful consequences. Maybe I should walk along the corridor one more time.

I turn around, and there she is, walking toward me, smiling through and through. We sit at the corridor because we know that not many people will walk by. We don't really care for that matter. Silence fills the air this time. Our eyes lock again and she smiles. "I can't hold myself from not smiling when I look at you." I then, would smile.

Minutes pass and he we are, talking to each other in our own mother tongue. I already told her that I can't speak Malay that well; it's a result of focusing too much on my English instead of my Malay.

She replies in German, and I am fascinated by the weird accentuation and rhythm of hers. I've always loved languages. In a more general sense, I've always been fascinated with sounds. Language is a branch of sound and through repetitions of different sounds being put together as a form of communication is just amazing to me. That's why I play a lot of instruments; the sounds each instrument does is just simply interesting.

It's 3 am already. I guess it's time to say bye. I feel weird though, I don't feel the spark that I did 3 hours ago. I guess it's because of the time; I am super sleepy. After showing her some of my essays that I wrote in my laptop; we both are standing face to face, knowing that in the next few minutes we won't be seeing each other ever again. I gave her a hug, a long one at that. Her head fits perfectly under my chin.

She then walks out the door and says goodnight. I look on, from inside the room as the door swings to a close of one of the most amazing and lovely nights that I'd ever had.

"Goodnight."

Short Post.

2010-07-21T22:08:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Sometimes in life, you got to take a leap. This leap depends; it could be a leap of faith or a leap into the unknown. Once you've taken the leap, you would hope that you will fly and not fall down like a rock. If you fall, you would then ask yourself "why did I jump in the first place?"

Well I guess you jumped because you knew there's some worth that could come out of that struggle. You hoped that something good would come out if you just keep fighting for what you want. Let me tell you this: if you want something, do everything you can to get it. Consider doing necessary evil if you have to (if you really have to).

No matter how many times you fall; how many times you fail; how many times things fail for you; you should get back up and start anew. I became a little bit philosophical while I was in the car a few minutes ago and I came up with this:

The measure of one's strength is by his perseverance of his emotional weaknesses.

I feel like I'm Plato.

I love women.

2010-06-13T23:31:00.005+08:00

Kids,

Okay, let's take a breather for a bit because I'm sure you want me to write about something that I have done recently that you wouldn't believe. Indeed, I have done something and hell yeah, I'm gonna write about it.

There's a subject in my current semester now called Performance Studies. Long story short, my group in that class which consists of me and two girls, was given an assignment to do. Basically, we chose to do a presentation about homosexuals. Ah fuck it! I'm too lazy to explain! We went to a gay bar/disco.

I didn't really dress up as a homosexual. I planned to because it was a part of our assignment. Well not really, but we thought that it would help in analysing the whole place and social construct. So there we were, at around 11.30pm in a gay bar/disco, watching homosexuals dancing to the music. What shocked me was that most of the homosexuals that were there were Malays. I need to elaborate a bit on this. These Malays are the ones who look like the Mat Rempits or to be more precise to my fellow ex-classmates of 5sc5, the Megats that we see everyday. It got me thinking that maybe the Malays that I know in school could be, somewhat, gay for each other. Hey, they could be.

These people were hugging and dry-humping each other to the music, and they didn't give a rat's ass what others think because, well, everyone's doing pretty much the same thing. After a few minutes, I decided to get down to business and start doing work on analysing the event. I started off by dancing in the crowd, trying to be like them. Everytime when I started dancing with a guy, he would reject me and would start looking for some other guy. I kept moving and dancing around the area, patting Malays and also foreigners (there were a lot of foreigners there too). I tried being friendly-ly gay and asked the foreigners where they're from. I got rejected again.

I never knew that I would feel so rejected in my entire life. And the fact that I got rejected by guys kinda magnifies the whole sadness of it; the sadness of me being a guy getting rejected by a guy and also the sadness of me desperately wanting to score a guy and not a chick this time. I ended up sitting at the side and thinking of ways to interact with them. What I needed was just a few information like the frequency of their outtings to this disco and what they do outside. I realised that my way of dancing was too manly and reserved. The majority of the crowd were very loose and wild. There was one guy who was just wearing a tight underwear and nothing else.

After half an hour of thinking, I went back into the crowd and started dancing more wildly and at the same time more feminine. It didn't work that well, until I decided to unbutton my shirt to show off my body. That worked, because after that I was dancing with this man who kept touching my face body and hips. I was so happy because I finally scored. He asked where I was from and asked where will I go after this. He wanted to go home with me. I started asking him questions. It was good.

Right now, as I am typing this, I am very shocked at what I did at the disco. I can't believe I did all that just to get some information. They seriously play hard to get and that frustrates me. The things that I do for work...damn.

But I do realise one thing though: grinding, touching, holding hips, showing off my body to and dancing wildly with homosexuals have made me straighter than I could ever be before and they restored and cemented my love for women.

2nd Attempt (long one, apologies)

2010-05-26T00:12:00.009+08:00

Kids,

It's 10:26 at night. He wakes up, wonders why he didn't dream of anything and gets off the bed. "Time for dinner," he says while walking to the kitchen. Unconventionality much. He tries so hard to be different. What's for dinner? Spaghetti with meatballs and steamed brocolli. He eats alone. He is alone. The only light that's on is the one hanging above the table in the kitchen. He eats slowly while listening to the occasional sounds of cars passing by his house. He ponders and he thinks. Why is life so boring? He doesn't really mind but honestly, can you really live like this?

"If this is a dream, and I am dreaming this, then where am I sleeping?" He begins to sink in, deeper and deeper into a numbing pool of self-searching. He doesn't want to believe that he is a brain-in-a-vat, for the notion will sink him deeper, making him wonder where the vat is. He finishes dinner and goes up, ignoring the plate and not washing it, to take a shower. Warm water brushes through his body. He feels fresher now. He massages his temple to get rid of the thoughts. "Water," he thinks, "is so important to us. We drink, wash our things as well as ourselves and we use water to an extent where it's crazy. Yet, when we walk outside and get water spilled on us, we'd complain!" He's right. People are weird, but a person is weirder.

It's 10:53 now. He's dressed and is ready to start his day, or in this case, night. Sitting at his work table, he takes out a blue pen and starts to think of what to write. He begins:

'If I could write in words, how I feel for my family, for myself, and most importantly, for you, the sheer struggle to find exact words would destroy me. I blame complexity for being what it is. It is embodied within my feelings, which aches my very soul, shattering my very hope of ever making my family, myself and you understand my most honest and truthful affection. My affection soars higher than any free-man could possibly dream. If I could see...'

He stops as the first tear dropped from his cheek. He pushes away from the table and walks back to the kitchen, finally having decided to wash the plate. He ponders again, at the sink, knowing that this is like any other night where he would pry and cry over his writings. He is obsessed. Obsessed to find a way to be honest, to write feelings and emotions. Crying doesn't make him feel honest, for crying is only a response to which he feels connected to what he writes, would could be truthful or lying; at least that's what he thinks.

Such obsession is deadly and he knows it too well. The aching is just the beginning. It allows subjectivity to take over and he needs it; just a little bit. "One must not be too subjective," he says, "because in the end, no one could connect."

He stops. An idea just came to his lonely head. He closes his eyes, focusing on the words that would explain this idea. Subjectivity could mean honesty, because it is what you feel about something. But, could it be that the in order to write something totally honest means to write something totally subjective to make the readers connect? He sinks again, trying to express his idea and the contradiction it creates. "No one can connect if it's too subjective. It'll be unfair and one sided."

His chest aches again, but this time of a different reason. He's frustrated. He goes back to his work table and tries to continue, experimenting with this contradictive approach of an idea he just had. He continues:

'If I could see myself and know myself well enough to find a medium deep within, that longs for a way to channel itself out, my apparent happiness would be absolute.'

It's not working for him. He loves his family too much. He loves her so much. If they but knew, if they but understood.

He struggles till it's 11:41, with the pen still in hand. No matter how long you live, you will never fully understand your own self, let alone understand others. He would like to feel better knowing that his family couldn't understand him because of this sole reason. The depression starts to get the better of him, for which leads him to write:

'There's no purpose in friendships. Living alone without anyone's help but your own. Interpretation of one's feelings is time wasting unless it's an interpretation of your own. Mutualism is an agreement that no one wants to adhere to. Hypocrisy brings contradictions. Contradictions are good no?'

Leaning back on his chair, he lets out a heavy and depressing sigh of anger and relief. Anger, is because he is frustrated with tonight. Relief is because he has written what his inner subconscious wants to write tonight. On the floor, crumpled pieces of paper of written failed attempts. They litter just like any other night. Why is it that he writes morbid pieces of sadness and despair, when all that he only wants to achieve are pieces of the total opposite?

"Hah! This is far from morbid!" He knows it too well. 3:15 in the morning, he is at his peak. Suicide seems imminent now but he doesn't want to. There's no purpose or reason for him to kill himself now. He wishes to live longer to find a chance to experience an honest and truthful love or happiness. He is, without a doubt, satisfied with the feeling that he is in. "So this is how a suicidal lonely man feels," he smiles while looking outside the window next to the work table. The streets are lonely just like him, with only yellow street lamps flooding mellow, almost mournful, sad light that doesn't really brighten the inevitable darkness outside in the least.

He turns to look at his table lamp and back outside the window. "I know how that feels." It is such a boring atmosphere in the room where he's in. In actuality, there's no need to emphasize on this. He really doesn't mind, becaue it's time for his morning lunch. He goes down to the kitchen to eat some leftover spaghetti. He has brought his notebook down this time and writes while he eats the cold spaghetti:

'Ladden with foreboding, when daylight cuts through the night. I choose to stay asleep when everyone's awake. I choose to dream while others choose to dwell in short reveries. I keep choosing, when in fact, I don't have a choice. There's no choice. I "choose" just to lie to myself that I have the luxury of picking a better path for my life. Choice is an illusion that tells you that you're worthy of such decision making."

He is such an optimist...a pessimistic optimist. He would continue this till the late day, and continue and continue again this set cycle until he finds the way; the way to show the beauty of honesty and truthful feelings, in such a way that they glow from the very curves and lines that we combine together to call words.

It's 10:15pm the next night. He wakes up, and wonders why he still didn't dream of anything and gets off the bed to begin another night that would be filled with sadness, love, sorrow, misery and unexpectance.

of Bowling and Skating.

2010-05-18T16:15:00.000+08:00

Kids,

I realised that circles play a big part in our lives and cosmos. It would seem like a very peculiar thing to state but almost everything revolves around circles. In every sport including bowling which I have played with a group of friends, the circle, or sphere, is present. In football, the ball is round. And this goes with squash, tennis, basketball, baseball and cricket. There’s even a circle in archery. If we go a little bit further away from sports and into a wider context, we could find circles too. The earth rotates in a circular motion on its own axis, moving around the sun in a sort of, if not a completely, circular orbit. The Milky Way consists of different solar systems, which also move in a circular motion around the gigantic galactic core. Even when circles are not really seen as physical units, we could see circular patterns in normal everyday lives. One would wake up in the morning and brushes his/her teeth and then get ready to do whatever that he/she is supposed to do and at the end of the day, he/she sleeps. This cycle would repeat and there will be slight adjustments but these adjustments are rather minute to alter the complete circle or cycle of life. Of course this is a bit off topic. I am merely remarking upon the existence and presence of the circle. It is rather interesting. In bowling, the ‘hook ball’ is used by professional players to curve the ball from one side of the lane to the other before hitting the pins. It is basically making the bowling ball rotate or spin on its own axis thus making a circular motion within the axis to move from one side to the other.

While I was playing bowling, I didn’t manage to do a hook ball. My wrist is not strong enough. Still, even though I didn’t use a hook ball, I still got a few strikes. It’s important to note the relationship between a strike and the reactions of people including myself. Everyone gets excited when the ball hits a strike. Why? Well, it’s not easy to get a strike. Not everyone can get a strike. To get a strike, you have to have a relaxed state of mind and a level of concentration and focus. In bowling, specifically, it requires a level of concentration that is different from other sports. This is because you don’t sweat; there are no constant bursts of speed like football, where the players would literally burst into quick sprints when the ball comes near. Football requires constant awareness of the ball whether it is while you’re running with it or not. Bowling is different. The excitement comes when there’s a tension between something orderly yet unpredictable. You would prepare yourself at the start of the lane with the ball near the chest. You would focus and predict what you want to do with the ball. Power, spin and accuracy are of the orderly. The unpredictable, on the other hand, is the amount of power, spin and the level of accuracy that are all to be directed into that one single throw. If the amount of the orderly is right, then maybe you would get a strike. This leads into a celebration; an acknowledgment that you have succeeded.

But with that, I would then question: Why does a strike mean success? This is because, to get a strike requires concentration and focus, the two things that we can’t really get a hold of in life unless we try really hard. I suppose this notion applies with life as well. A lot of people will try very hard to succeed in life. There is always the notion of ‘working-hard’ to live a ‘better-life’. Bowling would be, in this context, a representation of that. It is always about the things that are hard to achieve unless we really try hard. We always want what we can’t really have.

It is not a bad notion actually. This notion applies to everything that we do, even skating. I did skating as well and the concept and excitement behind skating were different from bowling. Throughout the whole time that I was skating, there was never a moment where I felt that I was in control. When you are out of control, you are actually in control when you’re skating. What I mean by out of control is the moment when you slide on the ice on one foot before you slide on the next. You are not in control of that. In that out of control situation, you are in control. From my observation, everyone’s moving anti-clockwise. This is the rule actually. Me and my peers did try to skate against the flow but we were told by the ones who were in charge to follow the flow. The majority of the skaters were sticking to the side. They were struggling, no doubt. But there was a sense of being in your own world. I experienced this. Through time, I forgot that there were people watching me skate. This was apparent for the people who were at the sides. For me, it didn’t matter if they do because there was a need to skate better. I guess it’s safe to say that that need was in all of us who were skating on that day.

Also, interestingly, the excitement comes when you fail, very different from bowling. There were very few solo skaters on the rink. The solo ones were the really good ones therefore they don’t really need friends to hide their shame of falling down, because they won’t fall. The skaters who were new, however, are almost if not totally dependable on their friends. If a person falls, his/her friends would laugh. That person, on the other hand, would look at his/her friends; laugh as well and then look at other people. This is almost apparent on every person who fell that day. There’s a sense of belonging and fear of failing. When we fail, we wouldn’t want to be the only one who is failing. It is good to know that the laughter indicates that your failure is acceptable, in the world of skating at least, for it is understandable. Lastly, the caging of the rink creates a sense of duality. The rink is covered with plastic walls. This creates the illusion of separation between the skaters and non-skaters. The outside will look inside but the inside will only look inside. Why is this so? I would suggest that it’s possibly due to the amount of dignity that was at stake within the ice-skating rink. In terms of performance, the skaters inside would want to ignore the outsiders so as to keep their dignity, even when they fall.

Overall, bowling and ice skating have very dissimilar sources of excitement. As for bowling, the excitement comes from the success of a strike of all the pins as well as the unpredictable. The excitement from ice skating, on the other hand, comes from the failure of a person who can’t skate. Definitely, both sports are considered as different ways of ‘play’ but both are representations that embody the ‘as if’ situations in life, bowling being the ‘strive to succeed’ in life, and ice-skating being the ‘trying-again’ after you fail in life.

1st Attempt

2010-05-06T23:20:00.008+08:00

Kids,

Passing the now and reality to create something beautiful, I am diseased. There's a stream of tears running down her cheeks. There's no reason to cry, it's just that she wanted to. There's a reason for everything. She might not know what the reason was, for the walls have built themselves already. She might not even know that there were walls surrounding her.

So be it. Let the angels come and wash her heart with snow, but I know for certain that a drop of evil will make any heart colder than the devil's. Outside, the moon was shining bright dreams through the window of her dark room. Dreams however, have a nasty habit of going bad, when you're not looking. She was starting to decay and she gave me the best seat in the house: front row centre.

It was just us two. I smiled, signaling an act full of diabolical meanings. She didn't get it, for now she stood in front of me and our noses touched. I was breathing the breath that she's finished with. The warm air lingered between our lips. No, I am not making the first move. She didn't either. Tension much? Perhaps. The air was getting warmer.

There was no more excuses to be made. The darkness subtled down the presence of her gaze, for I knew that she had such locking and captivating eyes. She smiled now, indicating what I thought would be a sign full of diabolical meanings. We embraced each other with a kiss. Neither of us started it but both of us did. This was wrong, I thought. But however wrong and diabolical, that kiss that we were having, nothing could possibly be any righter. Nothing at all. This didn't last long, for we escaped away from the kiss seconds later.

I closed my eyes, feeling sorry for moving away. I didn't want lust to take hold of me, only my logic. Even so, my lust and logic were so mixed up I didn't know what to do or think. I only knew what to feel. I wanted to feel right, because I have wronged in many, many ways. In all the confusion, a cold line touched my neck. I broke out into a cold sweat. She got me. She really did. I fell to the floor with only my blood to break my fall. I could see little red droplets from the knife she was holding. They glittered like red rubies in the bright dreams of the moon. Diabolical meanings indeed; my warm pool of blood which seeped through my clothes made me realise that. I took a deep breath as the cut on the neck stung life away.

I exhaled and closed my eyes once more. It was still right. Nothing was wrong at all.

List of Songs That Should Never Be Played in Malls

2010-04-29T16:35:00.006+08:00

Kids,

As I have promised, here's the list of songs that should never be played in malls. I have 24 songs in total but I decided to just name a few; not in order of which is the worst.

1- Rivers of Babylon - Boney M
The reason why I chose this song is because, it sucks. Period. Who cares about the rivers in Babylon? And that annoying nasal, layered voices don't do justice to the piece of shit music that it already is. Burn it.

2- Crazy Frog Song - Crazy Frog
I refuse to accept that this song is good. No it's not. It will not ever be good. And if you think this is slightly good in anyway, give me a call and tell me where you live. I'll beat you up myself, for free.

3- Dragonstea din Tei (Numa-Numa Song) - O Zone
It got me thinking that Europeans can make the shittiest disco music. Crazy Frog was created by a European as well right? Of course there are a lot of European trance, electro etc songs that are awesome but it's either really good, or really bad. This song falls in the really bad of the really bad.

4- Tutti Frutti Summer Love - Günther
If you've never heard this song before, just for the sake of knowing how annoying it is, go look it up. You'd understand why it should never be played in malls.

5- The Ding Dong Song - Günther
The title says it all.

6- Mambo No. 5 - Lou Bega
I'm not really against this song too much. But if you play this song in malls, it gets annoying. No one wants to do the 5th Mambo. Wait, as I recall, there was never the 1st, 2nd or even 3rd, let alone 4th Mambo.

7- Fireflies - Owl City
Let's not.

8- Trouble (uh-oh! We're in Trouble!) - Shampoo
We're in deep trouble if this song is played in loops in the malls.

9- Taxi Driver - Dr. Bombay
I personally like this song actually. But I'm sorry, this song should only be listened to and enjoyed alone in your car when you're stuck in a jam.

10- We Are The Champions - Crazy Frog
No you're not.

11- Cartoon Heroes - Aqua
No you're not.

12- Barbie Girl - Aqua
No you're not

13- Pretty Boy - M2M
My classmate uses this song as his ringtone. But it's okay because he's lame and gay like that.

14- I'm Too Sexy - Right Said Fred
A song that praises the vanity of a narcissistic individual should only be played when you're taking a shower or having sex...alone.

15- Wassana Wassini - Waheeda
This is first of a few Malay songs that I think should never be played. You might not have listened to this song before. It's okay. I won't tell you to go look it up.

Alright there you have it. I'm having a headache after writing this.

Crazy Frog Should Be Rendered Obsolete.

2010-04-27T09:58:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Malls are indeed places where you can go to have a great time shopping, eating or just hanging around with your friends or family. I admit I do hate malls sometimes but I have to agree that there would be less a place to go to if malls didn't exist. However, it's one thing to enjoy your mall outing and another to not.

I must say, some malls play the shittiest music you've ever heard. I was at a mall last weekend with my parents, just walking around looking at clothes. The music that was playing was that annoying Crazy Frog song. You know that first crazy frog song that came out right? It's the one that moves you, in a bad way.

Sometimes it's fine when you're concentrating on buying clothes and you would ignore the music, but when this music is played in loops it's almost hard to ignore.

It got me wondering though. Who the fuck gave the green light for that song to be played, repeatedly, in a mall? Who is this guy, or maybe in this case, 5 year old kid perhaps? It could be a 5 year old kid who is always bullied in school and lacks any knowledge of good music. Or maybe, this kid is traumatised by good music because the bullies sing it everytime they beat him up. So he results to playing crappy songs to comfort himself to sleep.

If you are ever in a position to choose songs to be played in the mall, don't play songs which can make people get out of malls instead of coming in. I will list down songs which should never be played in a mall soon.

Show yourself!

2010-04-18T18:34:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Honestly, I am not being honest. Unfortunately, the previous sentence is very fortunate. Paradoxically, this is very straightforward. This is very complex basically. I'm not being objectively subjective. Neither am I being redundently beneficial. This is obviously hidden, however silently noisy it is. Beforehand, I need to be intellectually disabled afterwards. Slowly, I have to explain this quickly. I am just too good at lying truthfully. I am badly good. I am a girly man. Do you unbelievably believe this? Do you undeniably deny this? Of course there's a discourse. You're trying to bite water. Sadly, that makes me happy. I'm just metaphorically literal. There is a need to improve the deficiency of my message. Perhaps I could start from the ending to begin.

However humorously boring this is getting, I do realise that sooner or later, I'd be looping endlessly. Nowhere-going. It's hard to loop in a direction. Picture if you will, an endless loop. I thought it's possible to loops towards a direction. What is a loop? Endless loop? Can an endless loop move towards a direction? Yes it can, but it goes towards that direction without reaching the end for it is endless. In that there is a loop. An underloop. A story that goes somewhere, but nowhere. A story that loops endlessly, much like our lives that we live.

We live in loops. We survive through loops. Loops keep us safe and warm. It's funny how we can actually go somewhere while going nowhere at all in life. Should there be a need to cure this disease; if it really is perceived as being one? It's a structured way of controlling the subconscious into making us depend on loops in order to live. Standards and values of living life are kept looping around every now and then to remind us that we have to live by them.

Where was I? Oh no, loops. Oh yes, life. The circle of life. Life loops. Life sucks as well sometimes. Some people say that life is like shit. I can't disagree. These people dump life and flush it down the toilet, never to think about where it's heading. That very life is going to a 'sewage treatment plant', to be cleaned and then given to people who really want a life. These people who want life will eventually fluh it down too. Here's the loop again.

The earth moves around the sun. It has been 2010 times, since we started counting the years. 2010 loops, 2010 circles.

Talk to me. About what? It can go on and on, looping endlessly. Both of them know what it's about but no one wants to give in. Why is that so? Neither wants to lose. Why should it be about winning? Why the sudden presence of competition? Why the sudden importance of counting how many times you win? 2010 times. 2010 wins or losses. It's endless. It's not important. You leave it now, you'll get it again in the future. It's a phase. Phases die. Phases ressurrect.

This is exactly going nowhere. Specifically nowehere. Exactly random. Randomly connected. Of course, everything is connected. We are only living in a big globe. We're not going anywhere. It is a small world. We are all connected, one way or another. It is a big, small world. We're all over the place.

So why the differences? Easy: adaptation. The earth rotates, spins, circles and tilts, around the sun. Temperature changes, and you have seasons. Hot, cold and just nice. We adapt to hot, cold, and just nice. Adaptation creates differences. How I adapt to hot is different to how someone adapts to hot in the north. But we both adapt. If I adapt like person from the north, we'll be the same. Similarities. Connections provide similarities. But adaptation creates differences. Connections beween adaptations create similarities. "Loopp" is here somewhere.
Show yourself loop!

Lena

2010-04-05T22:25:00.008+08:00

Kids,

In the hardest of moments, one of the best ways to get out is through music, of course.

There is always that one song that will suit your feelings, feelings which are kept deep inside and you can't even begin to find the right words to explain. No matter, for there will always be a song that has lyrics which are simplistic and yet manages to encapsulate every single feeling in that hard moment itself.

I will sing this aloud, and let it resonate through you and me. I mean every word and every question. No doubts about that.

Lena

Cinta sememangnya buta

Tak membezakan warna

Bangsa atau agama

Darjat atau usia

Tapi masih ramai yang lena

Buta pada helah mereka

Yang mendagangkan duka

Atas nama yang Ehsa

Haruskah ku memilih

Antara keruh, jernih?

Antara benci, kasih?

Bila kebenaran di sisih...ke tepi

Aku mungkin tak berilmu

Sepadan dengan mu

Tapi jangan sangka aku

Mudah dikeliru

Haruskah ku memilih

Antara keruh, jernih?

Antara benci, kasih?

Bila kebenaran di sisih...ke tepi

Vulture

2010-03-30T18:27:00.009+08:00

Kids,

I in actualy fact, am disgusted by the vulture. With its desperate need of a corpse, I cannot fully comprehend why this particular vulture would be so interested with this particular corpse. Surely I have no more interest with this rotting piece of flesh, of course I have no more interest because I am a hunter that hunts for his own prey, thus my dignity is higher than that of a vulture, who flies high in the sky looking out for corpses that rot their way through decomposition.

It is not because I knew, or should have known, that the vulture was in disguise the whole time. I didn't. The vulture was a good part of my life. I did not notice that it was a baby before, growing up slowly and fatefully to finally become what it was when it chose the corpse that was my prey.

The hierachy has shifted between us three, to my advantage, though I couldn't possibly be sure whether it is a good or bad thing. I am at the top, with the corpse being at the bottom. But then again, all this has made me wonder why must I care about such things? So what if I am at the top? It is just a way to justify that I am better, but even with this kind of judgement, it's very superfluous.

Perhaps this is my way of masking. I agree completely that I am affected in the least. I also agree that this issue is meandering. Meandering with anger and dissapointment. It is pointless. It is just about a very natural and instinctive behaviour of a vulture, wanting a rotting corpse to eat and savour. It does not care whether the corpse has had a hunter, because the hunter obviously has had enough of the prey. As a hunter myself, I take great care of my prey. It is disturbing to know that I out of all the hunters out there, would get a vulture breaking through my hunting grounds and finishing off my kill.

Now isn't this a wonderful analogy. No one is good although everyone has good in them. I should've taken care, or at least try to take care of the vulture when it was still a baby. I acknowledged its existence but ignored its morality and thinking. It is too late now. What is possible now is to acknowledge that the vulture is living its natural course of life. It is rather demeaning to not acknowledge the corpse. But then again, what is there to acknowledge? It is dead and rotting. What can a lifeless, maggot-full, rotting piece of meat do? It can only accept how it is eaten and scavenged. Its life is different from mine and the vulture's.

Could it be the relationship that I have had with the vulture is falling apart due to it choosing a corpse that I disagree? It is crumbling down, this I will not ignore. The real question is why? The vulture has had many corpses and I have hunted a many. In this case, its recently chosen corpse, used to be my prey. That is the problem. This has never happened before.

It is a risk befriending a vulture. No matter how much trust you put in, a vulture is still and will forever be a vulture in the end. Just letting it be the vulture that it is, is the perfect thing to do. It is time to leave it in the wild, for it was meant to be in the wild all along. Maybe leaving it in the wild is the sine qua non for establishing a disconnection between me and the vulture. Be free, my old vulture friend.

No that was not the ending. It is unlikely for that to be. This is just the beginning.

Soghi for de Ingcovinieh...

2010-03-25T23:16:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Wait...why am I here again? Oh yea, because I want to write about something. Wait...what was it about again? Oh yea...nothing.

You see, weng yu gok noting to ghaik abak de will be a lok oh pghobleng ehspecially weng yu kno dek yu ah deng bok bak donk kno wak to ghaik abak.

I hok dek dih poh maik mek you go wak de he eng I ghaiting abak. To be honeh, I eng jeh tghaiying to slik bak I kenk. I hek dih. I eng jeh wehting tai becoh I jeh wang to mek maiseh fao aslik. I hok Seh keng undeghsteng dih.

Seh, we nik to fige ak a nu wei oh toking laik dih widak pipel nowing wak ik ming...maybe weng we keng gek togeder wang dei, we keng tghai eng dihkah abak dih. Dih ih fo ough fiucer.

Be Careful

2010-03-18T12:02:00.004+08:00

Kids,

A few days ago, I had this idea of going to random people's pages and try and find as much information about them, just from their pages and without knowing them personally. This is because I thought that you should be careful of how you put yourself and what you put to portray yourself on the internet.

So I went searching for a random female name on Facebook. I got this girl that lives in Kuala Lumpur. I was lucky. She has her own website. I clicked on the link and I was in; reading all the posts that she wrote. She's a photographer, not a professional one but likes to take photographs, writes poetry, likes to draw and a lot of other stuff. She also likes anime and does cosplay. She's not chinese and she's not those extreme wannabe-japanese, at least that's what she wrote. I personally disagree after looking at her elaborate cosplay pictures.

She's very into poetry. She wrote her first poetry when she was in kindergarten. She was in Science stream when she was in highschool but took technical drawing. She also took up Art as an extra subject. She got A1 for that. Interesting. She also posts up photos, artistic ones of beaches of Pulau Pangkor and Terengganu. Obviously, she's travelled there.

All in all, I now know where she lives, her full name including her nickname which her friends use to call her. I know where she studies and works, her favourite video games, her favourite type of music and also her favourite kind of sport. I know who her friends are as well as where they live. I even know her roommates.

So you see, it's amazing how trusting or naive people are. They don't believe that anybody could connect the dots. They believe that they could bare their souls on the Internet, post photos and information at will, and not expect any consequences. Just from her blog, I could get all the info I need about her. Hometown, college, even names of her favourite bands. I kept going back and forth, going through her Twitter and also her old Myspace page. In between the data, I learned her birthday, zodiac sign and the frequency of her Internet use.

It's a good thing I'm not a psycho-killer with a disturbing fetish because if I am, she's dead. I just realised that there's a double meaning in that previous sentence.

Lacking Inspiration.

2010-03-12T11:42:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Sometimes, the arrangement of events according to uncontrolled time can make time so tactile. It is those random moments in life where you feel that predetermination within your actions when those moments connect so suddenly.

Two days ago, I was having a "Yes Man" day, where I just agreed to every single thing. At the end of the day, I've got a Michael Jackson's This is It DVD, a book and a membership card.

Now I know that to some of you, this may seem like a normal thing but the moments that led me to buying a dvd, a book and getting a membership card was so random. The day started off by me packing my stuff to get ready to move to another condo. I went down to the management office, asked for the key to my new room. The girl said my room's not ready so I won't be moving anytime soon. I got upset, because I've already packed my stuff. Now I'd just have to be on standby which sucks.

So I went to my department's office because I didn't know what else to do. There, I met my lecturer and we started talking and talking for more than an hour. He asked me to join him for lunch and we had lunch together with another guy. During lunch, we talked about Michael Jackson so that got me into thinking of buying the dvd. After lunch we went back to the department's office where there was another lecturer. I decided to disturb him too and again we talked and talked. I told him that I feel like going to Pyramid to buy This Is It. He offered me a ride so he dropped me off 10 minutes later.

In Pyramid, I was walking alone and then I bumped into my classmate's girlfriend so I asked her if she's alone. She said she's meeting her boyfriend at Starbucks. I thought 'okay, what the hell, lets meet him'. When I reached Starbucks, two of my classmates were there chilling. I sat down and we talked again. I told them that I want to go and buy a dvd so I went to the dvd store, bought it and came back to Starbucks. When I arrived back, they told me that they're going to MPH so I said 'okay'. I followed them to MPH...and decided to buy a book. I gave the book to the cashier and she asked whether I have a member card. I said 'no'. She said 'do you want a member card?'. 'Okay.'

So I filled up the form and 20 bucks later I was a member.

It's a rather long story though, but after that I was at a bbq party with the whole class. That was nice actually.

Anyway, I find it quite fun to just go with the flow with things. When you don't plan something and follow instead, you will get to do new things which is what life is about, especially when you're still a teenager. It's pretty fun.

Time to Study

2010-02-15T22:38:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Spread the word. Sun-U residence is the best place to live in when you're studying away from home. Never once I questioned the greatness of paying rm600 per month to live in a place where you have to study all the time. That is just what I need!

The internet is awesome too. Every minute and every second, your connection cuts off and you have to re-enter your username and password. And also, if you don't pay your rent or electricity bill, they will freeze your account and you won't get to use the internet services. Gosh, I feel so studious! Thank you Sun-U residence! You're the best!

From their new policy I understand that:

1.1 Internet access through Sun-U network is a privilege and is given to all users strictly for study, research and work related purpose. Sun-U reserves the right to block the following websites / traffic without prior notice and without prejudice.

- Gambling

- Violence / hate / racism

- Peer-To-Peer

- Pornography

- Online radio / movie

- Online Gaming

Thank you Sun-U residence for blocking out all those related websites. I don't gamble and watch pornography. Also I don't play online games with your connection(because your connection's slow to begin with), but I feel even more secure when you block online movies(i.e youtube and other video sharing websites [even facebook videos are blocked]) and also peer-to-peer file sharing. Now I can focus on my studies even if I don't feel like studying because thanks to Sun-U's new policy, I officially have no life, a privilege indeed. My life is study.

No fun.
No humour.
No friends.
No socializing.
No updating.
Study. Study. Study. Study. Study.

Spread the word.

Living in the Moment Past

2010-02-08T00:50:00.005+08:00

Kids,

Food for thought: Destiny.

I just stumbled to an interesting finding. Honestly, this topic was already talked about by my lecturer back in first semester but at that moment I was still oblivious to the sheer value or power of this. I would probably call this a truth about destiny.

You know when some people talk about how their lives cannot be predetermined and that destiny makes them feel controlled and having a loss of self consciousness? Due to this they would start to 'live in the moment', or so they say.

Professor Benjamin Libet, a neurophysiologist at the University of California, revealed that all our decisions and choices are set out beforehand, and that consciousness only comes into play half a second after everything has been determined. In other words, none of the experiences that we are perceiving are in real time, but are delayed up to half a second from the real events themselves.

I would interpret this as meaning that we actually live in the past and that our consciousness is like a monitor which shows us everything half a second later. This is because all of our perceptions are interpreted by the brain. The total time for something to touch you, and that electrical impulse to reach the brain and being interpreted to tell your consciousness that something is touching you would take about 300-500 miliseconds.

Now I know that still, it's fast but considering the fact that the conclusion that emerges is in no way dependent upon those figures, you would still agree that even 1 milisecond ago was in the past. According to Libet, whatever the length of that delay-it makes no difference whether it is great or small, whether it lasts an hour or a microsecond, our material life is always in the past. This demonstrates that every thought, emotion, perception or movement happens before reaching our consciousness, and that proves that the future is entirely outside our control.

Even a movement is predetermined in the brain cells, meaning that the brain cells that are responsible for that movement are already in action before the individual decides to make it.

To put it another way, the command "do!" reaches the individual, and the brain is readied to perform the action; the individual only becomes aware of this half a second later. He or she does not take a decision to act and then performs that action, but rather performs an action predetermined for him or her.

Yet, the brain makes an adjustment, removing any recognition that the individual is actually living in the past. For that reason, at the moment we refer to as "now," we are actually living something determined in the past, which was the future. Pretty cool eh?

Alalalalong...long long le long long long.

2010-02-03T13:04:00.003+08:00

Kids,

How wonderful life can be sometimes. I went to the power studio wanting to belly dance with a partner of mine. I then got into this whole new thing that's got to do with lions. Do you know that I like lions? Is someone reading this right now? I doubt it.

Well I was going through Facebook and I saw pictures of people being posted up on the wall. It's interesting that people actually post up pictures of their outtings. One thing that got me thinking was why we want to post our pictures on Facebook. To some people, writing a status on Facebook is considered as telling the 'whole world' about you, but the truth is that it's not. You're delusioning yourselves. So people post up pictures of themselves dressing nicely to show 'the whole world' that they are capable of dressing up like so and so.

While it is still questionable that they dress like how they would in the pictures everyday, it's obvious that they want to show that they are very well capable, which to me is not in any way more interesting than watching a cat swatting a fly while it's trying to sleep on a lazy hot Sunday afternoon.

Don't get me wrong, it's fine to post up pictures on Facebook but it's not fine to post up pictures to give ideas of yourself rather than telling the 'whole world' who you really are.

Here I Come...

2010-01-31T18:17:00.002+08:00

Kids,

There has been a series of uncontrollable pulsations that are stopping me from being me. Me is being someone who is controlled by the pulsations but instead I have to start learning how to control them.

I also think that there's been great distress within myself. It sucks because I can't really determine what's the cause of it. Maybe the cause is me trying so hard to figure out what's the cause but that would be a paradox no?

You know sometimes you got to take a break and discover something different. This is probably the reason why I don't like to manage my time strictly because I would like to make myself flexible. I do know that I can make myself a timetable and also stating a 'free time' period in it but I don't like the idea of the flexibility of my time to be set according to a specific period of time. It ruins the whole point of flexibility in the first place.

So what I like to do is try and get away from a normal routine, if I could that is. It depends on priorities. I would lie to get some time to break my normal routine. If an activity is not the main priority, I would try to cancel it and do something else, even if it means spoiling the whole product of that activity because in the end, everything would just be a mere memory no?

I don't think I want to spend my teenage years where I have all the energy to test my physical boundaries to be sitting in a room and writing a post on a blog. I'm off.

Shocking oneself.

2010-01-18T22:00:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Apakah kebebasan sesuatu ilusi?
bagi membebaskan muda-mudi?
kononnya.

Tali nyawa tersimpul dengan kesibukan,
sentakan kuat hanya akan memutuskan,
terpaksa menarik perlahan-lahan.

Damn it. I can't. Earlier today I've concluded that I feel free-er living away from parents. Of course everyone of you would agree. But then again, it was later the thought of freedom struck me when I got a message from someone, reminding me of a rehearsal I got to go to. The one of many rehearsals, the one of many things I got to do. So do I feel free not being free? Or do I feel free being generally away from my parents?

Such a negative thing to say about my parents but I don't mean it to be negative. Freedom could just be a subjective issue. I'm just shocked by the fact that I actually feel free when I'm surrounded with work, which supposedly, is something that's stopping one from getting freedom in the first place. I don't want to feel free like this. It's against myself...

Conditioning

2010-01-16T23:42:00.003+08:00

Kids,

I had a thought a few days ago. Couldn't really write it straight away because I was kinda lazy to go online since I'm busy with college.

I was having dinner with a buddy of mine and we weren't having a normal teenage conversation. We were talking more about reality, as in what defines real. Now before I continue further, I must tell you that what I'm about to write might be a little deep so...Ket, if you don't wanna read this, it's fine.

Anyway, we were brainstorming basically, elaborating the rationality of rationalizing something incomprehensible. Somehow along the process, the thought of conditioning came to mind. Of course conditioning and rationalizing are two different things but the process of writing down something about rationalizing is a part of conditioning. I'm not sure whether I'm putting this right.

The main idea or thought that I had was reading being a conditioning tool. What you read are basically words which make up a sentence to prove a point. If you could arrange words correctly to make up a sentence which you then arrange again to prove your point, you're conditioning the reader to believe and/or understand your point. It all starts with a simple idea. Vampires who glitter in the sun for example. That's an idea. Now write a sentence with properly put and arranged words to make it believable. Repeat and expand to form a paragraph. When you have enough paragraphs, voila: Twilight. And by the end of the read you've been conditioned to like the story.

Then again that's just an example. Sometimes conditioning doesn't always work. Headache.

100th post.

2010-01-02T19:14:00.002+08:00

Kids,

This is the 100th post. It should be special. The content should justify the excitement. But what to write for my 100th post?

This is interesting. It took me almost 2 years to reach 100 posts. I think it shows something because I'm pretty sure it's normal for someone to reach 100 posts in a short while, say maybe, in a year.

Anyway, me and Edward, a classmate of mine, went to Cherating. The beach wasn't as nice though. Probably because of the monsoon season. No soft sand or bright blue sky. But it's alright. We came to this resort that was near Club Med. It's new and not that grand but it has a paintball field and also ATVs(all terrain vehicle). We went in and asked for the price of a ride on the ATV. 5 seconds later, we were riding them.

It was a refreshing activity to do after been sitting in the room throughout the whole holiday. Riding the ATV along the beach, which was empty and flat. The beach lost its virginity to our ATVs' loud roaring engines and the big tyres. I remember looking to the horizon while I was on it and I must say, it wasn't a tranquil sight to see. But I wouldn't say that it's sad either. The horizon was dark eventhough it was only around 3pm. Dark clouds were stacking themselves up, getting ready to bring down one heck of a rain in such a scary way that I think even the sun felt threatened and decided to hide. The ocean was dark green with a hint of dark blue. Waves seemed as though they were running away from the dark clouds that were coming. It was pretty majestic. Not to mention the wind. I was wearing the helmet but I didn't want the visor to cover my face because I wanted to feel the wind while I was riding. I guess it's fine if you don't mind the bugs in your teeth.

After riding them for 30 minutes, which was the price that we payed for the ride, it rained. Just in time I would say. Lucky us.

So we got home and because of the wet salty wind during the ATV ride, my whole body was rather sticky. I went to take a shower. It was then that I realised I had been wearing shorts with a hole at the butt area. I hope no one realised but then again, it shows how much I was enjoying myself without even realising the exposure of my thong.

Good day but it could've been better. Justified.

Happy New Year

2009-12-31T18:30:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Something doesn't feel right. I don't get the hype with new year celebrations. I just don't. Bye 2009? Hello 2010? Goodbye to all the good times and bad times? You will always go through good and bad things despite what year it is.

And not to mention the countdown, to me it's pretty much a countdown to nothing.
5
4
3
2
1...Yay! 2010! Hello! ....uhh....yea...great! It still...feels the...same. Uhh...yea...hmm...wanna go clubbing to celebrate?

After the countdown there's nothing much. It's a new year...so? I still feel time passing by...nothing's different about the change between 2009 and 2010. Why are we making a lot of hoo-haa about the earth completing another rotation around the sun?

It's just another idea. And people use this idea to create some bullshit stuff like resolutions although it's almost guaranteed that they will forget them when the 2nd week of the year arrives.

Level of boredom has just sky-rocketed

2009-12-26T16:18:00.006+08:00

Kids,

Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight,
Hopefully this Santa won't give you a fright...

Twas the end of gifts giving that Santa had,
Only to look for the girls who are bad.

Child: Santa! Santa! Can I have some fun?
Santa: Sorry kid, this Santa's done. And plus Fun Jar's just ran out.
Child: Would you give some fun if I were to pout?
Santa: Not this time kid or else I'll shout. Now let's look at my list...Jenni. Oh..bad...you bad Jenny. Very bad.
Child: No wonder you're so jolly cos you know where the bad girls are at!
Santa: Kid, I'm gonna take a look at Jenni to see if she's okay, if she doesn't mind if I spank her in any way. This girl is bad and so I must teach her good, cos teaching her manners is all that Santa could.

So off Santa went to Jenni's chimney,
For a spanking that's not to be,

Slowly but surely he reached down the fireplace,
only to know that jenni's up the staircase,

Heaving his bag full of toys,
there is one that Santa knows that's apparent on all boys,

He tiptoed and tiptoed to the end of the hall,
where Jenni's sleeping at the corner of the wall,

He whispered to her as silent as stitch,
"C'mon let's get naked and have sex you bitch",

Jenni was shocked and Santa wasn't wearing his hat,
easy for her to hit him with a baseball bat,

Santa's swaying and spinning in a twirl,
making it difficult to run from this girl,

The stars around his head were in his way,
back to his Rudolf and also his sleigh,

Jenni was hitting him like a one-man mob,
after realising that he's Santa she stopped,

Knowing that Santa actually came to her bed,
Suddenly an idea popped into her head,

"Santa I'm sorry for hitting you on the head,
now can we go back to bed?"

Santa wasn't sure if he's in the right place,
but after some thought a smile came to his face,

Off they went to Jenni's bed,
where Jenni did really give him head,

Next morning came and night was no more,
Jenni woke up and Santa's not there anymore,

It was all a dream that was in heat,
to help her with her fetish of Santa's two small feet.

Now that is the story that never was,
that I wrote for fun just because,

It gets really boring when you're always alone,
so what better way to rhyme when you're stoned?

I heard a saying about Santa which is sad,
"Santa's jolly because he knows the location of girls who are bad".

It's obvious therefore should not be acknowledged.

2009-12-22T21:53:00.004+08:00

Kids,

I just remembered why I don't like to go to cinemas. It's because there are idiots who like to point out the most obvious things during the movie. I was watching a movie with some friends of mine and there were 2 ladies sitting beside me. Throughout the whole damn movie they were being stupid.

There's one part of the movie where the protagonist sighs, indicating that he knows he has done wrong. After that sigh, the two ladies would say "oh, dia menyesal dah tu." Ya think!?

I'll give you another one. There's another scene where there's an arrow that hits a guy, obviously killing him. One of the ladies went 'oh dia mati la tu.' Oh gee, really? I couldn't tell by the way he laid there against the wall motionless with blood coming out of his mouth.

Why can't you guys just keep your mouth shut when the movie is rolling? Shutting your mouth is one thing, but pointing out the obvious? Do you have to? Are you that desperate to sound smart? We all know what's happening by virtue of the fact that we could see it. No need to state, or re-state the obvious.

There's another scene where the protagonist, who's wheelchair bound throughout the movie, manages to run using another body. It was very clear to see that he's excited to run. Why? Oh I don't know, because he smiling and laughing while running. One of the ladies went 'dia nak lari tu' while he IS running in that scene. Really? Dia nak lari ke? I thought he was desperate to find a toilet to barf out what you just said, or maybe that was just me.

Shut up when the movie's rolling, start talking after.

You're too rude sometimes...

2009-12-19T13:00:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Isn't it funny how much effort we put in to prove a point sometimes? When it's almost impossible to prove it you tend to realise that actually it's not impossible. Being nice is a natural thing and for me I sometimes feel that I'm too nice for my own good.

I guess you could say that I tend to think like this when I'm not getting nice things in return. But it's not that I mind. I don't mind really. Because again my intentions are good and I don't feel the need to get anything good in return. You can't help but think about the things that you're getting back in return because it shows how much effort you've put before getting it. Your (in this case my) effort could be questionably acknowledged, appreciated or ignored, put aside.

At the end of the day, it's up to trust. You have to make that first move and not wait. Trust in yourself that you are able to trust others. Yeah. I guess that last sentence sums it all up. But then again, why do I always have to be the first to make the move? Why is it so suddenly that people around me are having lack of initiative and sensitivity?

I would say that I'm confused about this. People are weird, but a person is weirder.

Laid back...nowhere-going.

2009-12-18T21:21:00.003+08:00

Kids,

I just had a thought but the thing is I forgot what I was thinking about. It was along the lines of convention. I had an idea that something which is totally normal is actually a convention but I forgot what that thing is. It has something to do with emotions, or was it linguistics? I can't remember. Apologies.

Ah yes, the holidays. Unproductivity rate has definitely increased but I ain't complaining. I shouldn't be. I just realised that a year ago I was in Italy, writing down here and telling you guys about the weather, family, school etc. I know how fast time can fly but I gotta say, this is almost TOO fast you know?

Another year, another...I don't know...chapter. Some of us might be worried about what will happen in the future. I'm not that worried because when I look back at the stuff that I've done way back in the day, I know that somehow...I got a mosquito sucking my blood right now. Hey that rhymes!

I guess holidays are meant for self improvement. It's time to go back to being yourself and just modify some stuff. Upgrade your guitar skills since you have the time, or maybe read a book that you've always wanted to but didn't have the time. Maybe there's nothing for you to upgrade, so might as well pick up something new. You got all the time that you want so use it.

I'm actually writing stuff freely without thinking because I'm still trying to remember what I was thinking. But I just had another thought. Better not write that down.

Sunway is shorthand for leeching shits.

2009-12-12T00:46:00.005+08:00

Kids,

I'm not sure whether you know but, I've been living at this condo in Sunway called the Sun-U Residence. It is a condo for the Sunway and Monash University students to stay. Apparently, it needs to be burned down. Maybe I'm being rather direct and impractical about this, but I think this place needs to be pissed on (literally) at least.

I wouldn't mind unzipping my pants and piss in the office in front of the office workers because that is what this place is to me: a piss bowl. I pay rm650 per month to stay here but one thing I just don't like is the internet.

Before you go "oh he's a very spoilt brat who needs internet all the time LOL!!!11!", let me tell you why it is so important for me to have at least a stable connection at my condo: because I'm living here. And the fact the college's connection isn't letting you watch videos on sites like youtube etc: it's really important for me to at least be able to watch videos on the internet. I got assignments which involve me watching a few videos.

I've lived with this awfully slow connection for almost a year now. And guess what the management did. The just put up a policy. Now, I got to enter my username and password when I want to use the connection at the condo. It's almost the same as the connection in college, but it's shittier. Everytime I open a new tab, I got to enter the username and password...over and over again. I can't look at Facebook photos just because it violates the policy of the usage of the connection. I can't watch videos because if I stop using the connection for 2 minutes, it will disconnect automatically. This is great seriously...it's like they can never stop at giving shit.

Instead of spending time and money to create such policy and all this username and password bullshit, they should first...I don't know...make the connection stable FIRST! I don't see the point of this shit anyway, I'm living in a condo but I feel like I'm living in a place where...it's not meant to be stayed. I don't mind the 12am curfew on weekdays, I don't mind the extra rm40 that I have to pay if I want to park my car inside the compound. Well actually I do mind that because again it's another stupid thing to do. You know I live here, so why do I have to pay rm40 to get the sticker just so that I could park my car inside the compound? Bloody leeches I tell you...leeches.

All I want...is just a place where I can just call my 2nd home where I don't have to worry about anything. It's not like I'm not getting shit from college already. I am. And the fact that when I come back to my room to get some more shit from shitty Sunway...I feel that they should get their shit back in return.

I like Tempoyok with Rice and Sambe

2009-12-07T09:18:00.003+08:00

Kids,

I think it's important to...I'm kidding. Almost everything I write about these days is about what's important. It's getting boring.

Holidays are coming. And I'm getting free-er and free-er. I've decided to try out voice acting since I can do quite a number of voices. A lecturer of mine gave a website of this voice guild in Malaysia. Voice acting is some serious business. If you're good, you can earn up to rm300 per second. The lowest rate would be rm30/sec. But imagine if you're doing a commercial that's about 60 seconds, you already got yourself rm1k++. This is serious shit. Joe Hasham earns up to rm1k per second. Now that is...I don't even know what word to use.

I'm still not sure as to how do I ask for voice acting jobs, but I'll write them down when I do. You guys can check it out if you want: thevoiceguild.org

Voices have never been so important.

If you talk about work during the holidays, I'll beat you up.

2009-11-29T12:59:00.004+08:00

Kids,

You don't know how much your past has shaped you into being what you are today. One good way of beginning to find out what happened back then that has made you you is to ask yourself "why". I've realised that my past has made me a rather strange person. There's a contradiction: I hate my own race but I love them.

What I hate about my own race is the fact that they can be really shallow and rude sometimes. Another thing is because of how I was treated by the Malays back then. What I love about my race is the whole communal spirit within them. They like to help people. I also love the culture and Traditional Malay Arts like wayang kulit or whatever.

I'm strange because I'm an 18 year old boy who reads about philosophy and thinks a lot about the human faculties of perception, or cognition. Honestly I don't feel that it's a bad thing but my lecturer has convinced me that it is a problem.

That's the thing actually. I keep going back and forth because I'm dealing with this stuff everyday. I feel the need to get away from all this and just enjoy my teenage life. How can you not take a break and live your life?

I've made up my mind. When the holiday starts, I will never talk about studies and/or anything that has to do with performing arts. I'm going to watch movies passively, hang out with friends and not think about their psychological traits, help my mom cook lunch without talking about college, and also eating muffins in the car with Parris without thinking about work. There shouldn't be anymore work during the holidays. It's time to slumber and go back to be the oblivious individual that's a part of the ignorant society. What's that? A war is going on somewhere? ALright I'm just gonna take a can of Coke and play my guitar and write songs. Yeah, that's what I will do during the holidays.

I came, I saw, I went offline.

2009-11-23T21:32:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Finally! I got an inspiration as to what I want to write about. You don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment. Let me get straight into the topic.

Intentions.

Now intentions can be good or bad, everyone knows that. What's nice about intentions is; the end result can be totally the opposite of what you were aiming for. I just experienced that and I find it really funny.

I went online to help someone. My intentions were good. But when we were chatting, for some reason I couldn't really help, because of what was happening. In the end, I was being a wall, holding back the progress of the work that was at hand.

What was funny was the fact that I wanted to help but in the end I wasn't helping, rather I was being a catalyst for jealousy. You could say that I went "ok now, what the hell just happened?" when that happened.

The total non-reciprocal effect of the event made it unexpected. It totally caught me off guard because I thought that when you're approaching something with a good intention then it should reciprocate. I just realized that things don't work like that. Man am I slow at all this "life" things?

=D

2009-11-22T22:07:00.005+08:00

Kids,

I can't wait to get back home to be honest with you. I can't really explain why. I don't mean to have any negative connotations within the first sentence just now. I don't mean to say that I want to leave the friends I have here. I just want to go back solely because of my house. My sister's alone there now. And she has to be alone there for a month. And what's worse, the probability of a house break-in has increased in the area. So I feel the need to go back as soon as possible.

Dear friends of mine in Kuantan: if you guys are free, just drop by my house to see whether everything's okay. Just tell my sister that you know me and that you're just coming on my behalf to see whether everything's okay. Now I know that it seems pointless to drive all the way to Balok but the effort will be appreciated I'm sure.

I just realized that I'm being rather paranoid about this. And my semester's ending on the 8th of December. Two weeks to go. Hope they fly fast. I'll be home soon.

Inter-contextualized

2009-11-17T12:59:00.002+08:00

I dalam kelas pukul 9 pagi,
Tak sangka ada replacement lagi,
Kalau ada satu lagi memang aku nak mati.

Kalau kelas habis sekarang
memang dah lama aku lari,
Boleh baring atas katil
duduk pikir pasal my 'honey',
Dia dalam dunianya sendiri,
Nak bawak aku masuk tapi dia tak reti,

Lama sangat duk diam dalam kelas ni,
Tak lama nanti boleh kena kancing gigi,
Dalam kepala otak ada satu visi,
Pipi lecturer merah sebab penampar yang aku kasi,

Apa ni?
Dah lama aku nyanyi,
Kelas tak habis lagi?
Takpe lah
At least my honey ada di sisi.

Belly Dancing 101

2009-10-26T21:51:00.003+08:00

Kids,

I never knew that belly dancing is so much fun. Yes, indeed I went to a belly dancing class with a buddy of mine. It was a spur of the moment kinda thing. The conversation went somewhat like this:

Dude 1: dude, you wanna go belly dancing?
Dude 2: uhh..ok.

And we were off before Marry Poppins could say "pop my marry". And so there we were, in this dance class with more than 20 older people. It was quite weird because me and my buddy thought that young hot chicks would be into belly dancing.

We were so wrong. But we didn't really care. Our trainer's name was Adam(yea, he's a Malay). He was a ripped man. Too ripped to be a belly dancer in my opinion. But when he showed us his belly dancing skills, he looked like a jelly sausage. I felt somewhat gay because his belly dancing was really erotic. He's very straight mind you.

And so overall, we had fun. I know how to belly dance which is great. I just need a hip replacement now. A lot of professionals were there as well. There was this 70 year old woman who could almost belly dance like Adam but her age was the problem. She joked, saying that "anything greater than this angle would be my surgery bill".

The best thing was, the whole class was free because my buddy knew Adam. Adam said it's ok to come for a preview class to just try out. He told us to let him know if we want to join the class weekly.

I recommend you guys to try it out. It's fun. And I also recommend you guys to watch my latest video for my Sound and Image class. Here's the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahNwc4kbaDc

Oh yea, one more thing. I made up the whole belly dancing story...the whole point of this post is just to tell you about my video. So check it out, and check out belly dancing!

Life doesn't suck...it's just you.

2009-10-22T13:25:00.003+08:00

Kids,

There's a class in half an hour and I thought what better way to waste time than updating. I'm going through a week that's filled with steamy shit that I can't begin to explain. There are performances I have to do, assignments to be done, movies to watch, songs to write, a video I have to act in and other minor stuff.

But the weird thing is, I begin to see how this is working. It's kinda hard to explain really. I'm beginning to see how life can be so important. There's this major epiphany moment that I had when I was alone in my room. Speaking of which, I've never felt so happy being alone and away from the noise of people. I like a person, but I hate people. Just being around them gives me a headache. That's why it's so nice to just sit in my room alone with nothing but the sound of my typing and the air-con running to break the silence.

Anyway so moving on to the epiphany moment. Long story short: you gotta live your life to the fullest. Don't worry. Why worry actually? Worrying is for wimps. Time to start taking risks! Quit.

Quit answering people's calls during your time off. Go do something with your life!! Drop your work and experience the beauty that is your freaking life.

Even when you are going through an experience of something, squeeze every drop of it. You never know if you will ever experience it again. Don't worry about breaking the rules because rules are meant to be broken. Damn that was a smooth line.

Break a leg. Ever heard of that? That's when someone tells you to kick ass when you're about to do something. Ever wondered why it's called 'break a leg'? It's because you won't actually break a leg because it's risky and not to mention painful. But to experience something that is close to breaking your own leg(literally) is something you have to aim for. That feeling of 'might' can bring you down sometimes.

But hey, you might die after you read this so squeeze every drop of what I'm saying and take a risk.

Do you think that this is your father's?(Kau pikir ni bapak kau punya ke?)

2009-10-13T00:06:00.004+08:00

Kids,

I've discovered that translations are sickening. Why? Because when you translate something from one language to another, the whole meaning or essence of the previous language is somewhat gone. And I hate it.

I was translating the song Ayu by V.E to a friend from Malay to English. If you guys know the song, you would understand the problem that I had.

I would say that that song has incredibly meaningful lyrics. Lets take the first verse:

Lalunya hari demi hari,
Sayunya hatiku ini,
Tak ku sangka kau di sisi,
Baju kurung putih berseri.

So you could see the whole poetry in that verse. You could sense the loneliness the person is feeling. When I translated the verse to english to my friend...it was like this:

Days passing by,
My heart is sad,
Didn't realise you're beside me,
White beautiful dress.

One of the reasons why the English translation sucks is because of my vocabulary BUT can you really translate the whole sense of that verse? I can't. Can you?

This is why I feel that languages are important. I need to know more languages so that when I read a text from another language like, say, Italian; I would want to understand the flow and sense of it as well.

Mangkuk tul ko ni. That's an insult in Malay. When you translate that, it literally means 'you're a bowl'. When I say that to someone in English that he's a bowl, he might give me a 'peace' sign and just walks away.

I seriously need to learn more languages. I personally think that I wouldn't have problems with pronunciations because I have no problems. That last sentence was the result of sheer blur-ness.

Ya? Ya! Ya? Ya! Ya? Ya!!

2009-09-29T11:57:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Open your brain tanks because I'm about to put in some fuel 91 octane knowledge.

Gossips. Bad talk. Trash talk.

Not everyone can do this. Do you know why? Because you gotta be worthy! Not everyone's worthy of doing this. The most important thing to do before you start trash talking about someone is to look at yourself. That's the most important thing to do kids. Look at yourself and ask yourself "am I worthy?". Chances are, no...you're not.

So how can you be worthy? Simple: don't be a jackass to other people. When you're not a jackass to other people, only then you can start trash talking about the people who are being jackasses to you.

"But Shah, if I'm worthy and start trash talking doesn't that make me a jackass because I'm dissing other people therefore, not worthy anymore? LOL??//?"

Then perhaps I should zoom in a little yea? Ya? Ya! Ya? Ya! Let me take you and your friend. You are not a jack to him, but he is to you(makes me wonder why you're friends in the first place but for the sake of explanation, just go with it). He is not worthy of trash talking about you because he's the jackass. You can talk bad about him because you know you're not like that.

Yessssss, I can see it now. You're beginning to understand.

"But Shah, what's the point? It doesn't change the fact that he is still a jackass and by trash talking about him, in a way, you're being just like him yea? LOL!!11!!"

Ya! That's the point! The point is kids, there is no point. Why should you waste your time talking about someone's tattoo extension? Live your life to the fullest and let the ones who talk about it, talk about it.

"But Shah...while I was driving, I saw you seeing me and you waved at me...do you hate me? LOLOX??//?"

No I don't hate you. If I do, I would've showed you the finger instead. Ya??

Raya Wishing

2009-09-21T00:50:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Lets just forget about what we did that may seem wrong and move on. What I've done wrong didn't seem wrong at that time. But looking back now, some of the things I did were really bad. I don't regret doing them though, because you only live once so just, live your life and do things that can make you feel better.

But don't do bad things all the time. Repetition builds reputation. Mix around a little bit: do bad things and also good things at the same time. But, when you do good things, be honest about those doings. Don't just do good things solely because you want to balance out the bad.

Can you understand how shitty it is to be thinking about stuff like this? I can't stop myself from not thinking about this stuff. Stuff that can go on and on without having an actual and final answer. Endless theories and sentences that start with "maybe". I hate it sometimes. Of course I do have fun going into deep thinking but now I can't stop going deep. I'm digging a hole that I can't get out of sometimes.

I blame you people for affecting my life and I thank you. Selamat Hari Raya. Maaf zahir dan batin.

Trust

2009-09-14T21:25:00.005+08:00

Kids,

The act of trusting someone is more complex than you would imagine. When I say 'trust', what comes to mind? Some of you may think trust between friends or trusting a loved one. Why is that? Because we face with trust issues mainly with friends because we're not too close with our friends.

But what if this issue arises in the family? This is what I really want to talk about because we rarely get or hear something like this happening. Any parent wouldn't want their children to not be successful. And any parent would want their children to be prepared. Because of the drive to make sure that the parents raise their children well, some parents unfortunately, prepare their children in the context not suitable for this era. There are lists of do's and don'ts that parents have instilled in their children so that they will remember, and remember even more when they've reached puberty. I just think that we, as children, should be given the right to question and to experience life by ourselves.

Aha but before that, here is where trust comes into place. I believe that parents should learn and prepare themselves as well. They should prepare themselves that their children are growing and they will start to think for themselves. The main reason why parents are finding it so hard to let go is because of trust.

There are many examples that can be traced back to trust: your parents telling you to study medicine/law/engineering and not doing other stuff, or parents telling you not to find a partner until you start working, or parents forcing you to focus more on studies rather than co-curricular activities. All this comes back to trust.

Don't get me wrong, I love my parents and I respect the fact that they are telling all this because they care. But it's mutualism: if you don't trust me, how can I trust you? If your parents can't trust you that you're better off not being a doctor, why should you trust them that you're better being one?

Am I getting my point down right? I do not deny the experience our parents have because they've lived longer than us but the world is changing and I feel that we can't afford to just follow a mindset that cannot enable us to reach our maximal potential. Basically, I'm saying that this is the year 2009, mindsets of the old sometimes cannot be applied. No offense. I love you.

Unless your nose hair is too unrealistically thick that it's blocking air from going to your lungs, then don't.

2009-09-08T22:15:00.010+08:00

Kids,

I went to the barber the other day to get a hair cut. The place was really small. There was only one chair for each customer and there was only one barber. The barber's Indian. While I was waiting for my turn, I was watching him cutting his customer's hair.

The techniques he used, they're all the same with the Indian barbers' back in Kuantan. Back at home, I always go to this place called Bunga Raya. The whole place is infested by Indians. And this guy, the one I was watching, was using the same techniques. Now it got me thinking: do barbers go to some academy to learn how to cut hair? If so, where? And why Indians?

Nevermind about that, I hope your not allergic to stupidity because what happens after I was watching the barber was so intellectually challenged. And so the barber was done with his customer. The customer was happy and paid rm50. The price for the hair cut was rm10 so the barber was getting the change from a drawer.

The customer, what he did next, made me go 'WHAT THE HELL?! NO!! DON'T!!'. Well, obviously, I didn't say that out loud. I couldn't. Can you guess what he did?

He took the scissors the barber used, wiped it with a cloth and went in front of the mirror and started to trim his nose hair. His was blowing out hard through his nose while doing it.

Now I don't know about you, but if that is not inappropriate, I don't fucking know what is anymore. What the fuck is wrong with you? How did it cross your fucking fucked up mind that trimming your nose hair with a pair of scissors that the barber will be using for other customers' hair, especially mine, is not wrong? Do I need to trim my pubic hair in order to put some sense in this guy's head?

And what was worse, the customer was a fucking Malay. As I was staring, and I'm using the word staring here, I did not look away. As I was staring, deep inside, I was on my knees, pleading to this man, to not make my race, especially me, look bad. It's a disgrace. Why do I always get this shit? First it was some horny Malay guy on Skype asking me if I'm male or female, now this.

Anyway, the barber didn't clean the scissors because he didn't know. I didn't tell him to clean it, because it wasn't my turn. It was some Indian guy's turn. I'm not being racist here. I thought maybe I should just humour myself by watching the guy's hair being trimmed with those scissors. I told him to clean it when it was my turn. So, in the end, I had a great laugh.

Paradoxial Mental Diarrhea: revolutionary mental prison.

2009-08-31T22:15:00.004+08:00

Kids,

Ever thought of giving someone a flower? Don't know whether you should give a fake one or a real one? Why would you give a fake one? Why would you give a real one?

To be honest, I don't know which is better. So bear with me for awhile as I'm going to analyse objectively the pros and cons.

Firstly, lets take a look at a fake flower. If you were to give someone a fake flower, will that person try and figure out why you gave a fake one? The fakeness of the flower might show that you have fake feelings. But at the same time by giving a fake flower, the person can keep the flower for a long time, forever if it's plastic.

But again, what's the point of keeping a fake flower forever? Indefinitely, it will soon collect dust. So lets move to a real flower. You can put it somewhere and it's not fake. But because it's not fake, it will die. Death signifies the end, which is, to some people, a sad thing.

But could it be that with the death of that flower, you can start with a new one? Therefore you can always have a different flower everytime. But again, if that's the point, why give the flower in the first place because sooner or later, it will die?

I can't go on now because my mind is trapped in a paradoxical mental diarrhea. Would it be okay if we could just appreciate the gesture instead of the flower itself? Don't think about the flower, but rather think about why you're given a flower in the first place, eventhough it will die.

This is a really bad post. Bad post this really is.

Sono stupido, va fanculo.

2009-08-29T15:42:00.003+08:00

Wahai Kanak-kanak,

Alkisah maka tersebutlah sebuah kisah tentang seorang laki-laki yang bernama Shah. Laki-laki ini telah berada di tahap kebosanan yang amat drastik dan membuat keputusan untuk menulis dalam bahasa ibundanya.

Apakan anda berasa kebingungan ketika membaca ini? Apakah anda berasa tidak selesa membaca ini? Jika jawapan anda 'ya', saya hanya ada satu soalan yang perlu anda jawapkan: Mengapa?

Mengapa anda berasa kurang selesa? Adakah ia kerana anda tidak biasa dengan saya menulis dalam bahasa Malaysia? Memang betul, kerana saya juga, rasa amat tidak selesa menulis dalam bahasa ibundaku.

Cut the crap. Damn. That was, unbelievably uncomfortable and not to mention slow. Took me awhile to figure out what the Malay words for a few English words were. I believe that I need to have a certain, fairness when it comes to languages. You should too. Don't stick too much with a language and neglecting the other. If you know only one language, then I pity you. Give yourself a slap in the face and go learn a new language. Arrivederci ragazzi.

Note: Nando's peri chicken can never substitute ayam perchik

2009-08-26T13:16:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Can I just skip the intro and go straight to the point? I find fasting without my family really sad and depressing. I knew it would be like this. I'm not eating what I want to eat. I had McDonald's for sahur and Nando's for 'buka puasa'. Sahur is the meal we have before we start fasting.

And in this semester, there are more activities which involve deep self searching. So from time to time, I get sidetracked and started thinking about my family. How we 'buka puasa' together at home.

Around 4-5pm everyday, we would go to the Ramadan bazaar near our house. The smell of Malay food, fried, grilled, steamed, all amalgamate,resulting to a wonderful smell of cooked food just waiting to be eaten that even makes your saliva, salivate and that salivated saliva to salivate. It is THAT salivating! Your stomach goes 'yo! Buy that! I can handle that. And that! Oh yo buy that one too!' I really miss that smell. People shouting. Really crowded. Let me take a deep breath.

Once we're back, we'd prepare the food and I would be outside waiting for the azan. Just eating together is like a celebration, in a way. It's like the whole family's celebrating the achievement of fasting for that day and the reward is delicious food.

But the food is not really the main point I'm getting at. I'm focusing more on family here. The food can be found anywhere. It is who you share it with that means alot. 'Buka puasa' with your friends is definitely not and can never be the same as breaking fast with the family.

It is that thought that sidetracked me from doing my work. The constant thought of me having to break my fast without the family really sinks me.

I guess this is another part of living. Sometimes you just got to let go of certain things that make you feel like a kid again. It's wonderful to feel like a kid again, but you have to know that you need to let it go...for awhile.

Mental Diarrhea: revolutionary way of thinking.

2009-08-17T21:28:00.006+08:00

Kids,

Diarrheoa. Now don't go all "you're disgusting!!1! LOL!1" on me. I'm just saying, this word; diarrheoa, is one of the words that I hate spelling. I always, and I mean ALWAYS get confused everytime when I have to type this word.

One of the reasons why I can't spell this word is because I rarely use it. C'mon, who uses this word all the time? Probably someone who does researches on diarrheoa. Is there really a diarrheoa researcher? Ok, I'm being disgusting. Moving on.

Another reason why I hate spelling this word is because of the illogical presence of the letter 'o' between 'e' and 'a'. Why must the 'o' be there? It just doesn't make sense! Clearly you don't pronounce the 'o' when you say diarrheoa. I'm going to be logical about this and ignore the whole spell-the-british-way and spell it diarrhea. It makes more sense.

Now some of you might ask why I'm talking about this so randomly and suddenly. I was having a free flowing thought. I was thinking and thoughts just flowed, like a river. It was satisfying but painful at the same time because it gave me a headache. In the end I couldn't remember what the thoughts were because there were so many, I had to flush them away. This whole process, I soon later realised, was unusually similar to another process. Thus, I've invented a new term: Mental Diarrhea.

You think clubbing is so cool, mature and fun? Me neither...

2009-08-12T21:22:00.005+08:00

Kids,

The words "I miss you" and "I love you" are being so over-used nowadays eh? When I feel like using the words I don't feel right because the value of the words are lost. There's no more originality. A place where these words are used almost all the time is Facebook. I mean, just go to Home and read.

"I miss youuuuuuu!!!"
"I miss you toooo!!!!"
"love you!!!"
"love you too darl/babez/lovelies"

And sometimes, it's very annoying! I don't know about you but Facebook is becoming like a handy dandy diary; just that, instead of writing what has happened, you write what is happening.

Another thing that kinda pisses me off is clubbing. I don't get the point of it. The first time I went clubbing was in Italy. I was so hyped up and couldn't wait. Once I entered with Jacopo, I kinda went "...eh?". It's everything you don't want in a peaceful world. Loud music, smoke, drunkards, and not to mention the epic combination of vomit, urine and shit in the toilets. It's also crowded with sweaty, low life people who think clubbing is everything.

And when I was forced to go clubbing with my friends in KL, it's pretty much the same thing, just that the people were sweatier thus making the place more stinky. Am I missing something here? Where is the fun? Drinking till you get drunk? Well, firstly, I don't drink and when you're drunk, you're gonna feel like a dumbass the next day when you wake up.

But one thing I like doing in the club is observing people. I don't dance. I just watch people dance. I like it even more when a drunk person's dancing. I can hit em in the head and he/she won't feel a thing until the next morning. I find it really amusing and fun.

Anyway so, before I end this, two things. One, I don't think I can update that regularly when I start my 2nd semester. Two, some of you may disagree with what I said and go "well, that's just your opinion!!1! LOL!1"

Well, no shit. Who else's opinion would it be? Everyone already knows it's my opinion by virtue of the fact that I said it, no need to restate the obvious you dopey twat. Take care guys.

Sleep deprived brain at 3am

2009-08-07T02:58:00.003+08:00

Kids,

As I stood there, freezing in the rain, the concept of time flashed into my eyes. Looking deeper into my thoughts, they seem to stir for eternity, I eventually took hold of what I wanted to express.

The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what may come of you. Depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you truly free.

Share your inspirations with the world and keep your fears to yourself. This is my vision.

Whatever you do, time is always ticking away, and I believe that each and everyone of us should aspire to fulfill our dreams. Anything is possible for those who are willing to try.

Reflect on these words: live your dreams, chase them.

It's funny how my mind works at 3 in the morning...

Hope

2009-08-06T16:27:00.002+08:00

Kids,

1991, the number of views I got so far, and also the year I was born. What a coincidence actually. I'm number 1991.

Hope — it is the quintessential human delusion, simultaneously the source of your greatest strength and your greatest weakness - The Architect from The Matrix Reloaded.

That's one of my favourite lines of all time. I like it alot because sometimes hope, can be seen as an illusion, or a blanket to cover your fears; fears of something bad that can happen. Hope gives us a place where we could look at something from an optimistic point of view.

But hope is, indefinitely a risky thing to feel. When one has high hopes about a certain outcome and does not get what he had hoped for, he's gone. It's scary to hope about something and yet, we still do.

But I guess there are goods and bads about hope. After receiving a painful blow of an event, we can hope that it will change us in the future for the better. But that kind of hope won't work unless we do something about it. We hope we can change for the better and we do something to change for the better because again; in the end, hope is just a place where we can look at something from an optimistic point of view.

....shit

2009-08-01T15:49:00.005+08:00

Kids,

Seriously, you never fail to give me a kick in head. I was on facebook and found out that a friend tagged me. It was quite weird for me because I'm not really close with this girl so I checked out the photo.

It's a photo of a tattoo that she just got, and she tagged a whole bunch of people including me. Talk about wanting to be noticed. How desperate can you get really? You know no one gives a shit about your tattoo, and yet you lure us into giving a shit.

You know what happens when you force me to give a shit about something I don't give a shit? I blog about it, sadly. Why? Because now I give a shit by the fact that you lured me to give a shit about something that I didn't give a shit. I give a shit about the sheer stupidity of the tag.

It's as if after she got the tattoo, she was thinking whether she'd made the right choice. So she posted the photo up, tagged a few people to see what they think so that she'll get an assurance that she has made the right choice. Great. Now go show it off when you go clubbing every weekend. No one's gonna hit on you, still. What's up with tattoos anyway? Getting something you can't throw away, and getting pain during the whole process. It's like paying someone to kick your ass.

So don't mis-use the tagging option. Or better yet, if you know that I don't give a shit, don't tag me.

Kick in the head.

2009-07-31T22:47:00.003+08:00

Kids,

I hope you're wearing helmets because I'm about to drop you guys some knowledge. If you think of going and having a holiday in Kuantan, there are a few things you need to know about this place.

Firstly, I'm not saying don't come here. But ask yourselves again after you've finished reading. For those of you who like beaches, Kuantan offers only two nice beaches, Teluk Chempedak and Cherating. Both of them are really good but c'mon, you're not coming here because of beaches ONLY right?

So, another reason to come here is the food. This is the only thing that's good about Kuantan. We got Hoi Yin, which opens from 8am to 2pm only. The best thing to eat here is the Curry Mee which is second to none. No wait, actually the Mee Curry comes second to Tempoyok simply because tempoyok kicks more asses than mee curry, no doubt. Another place to eat is this Mee Hoon soup place in Gebeng. You can only eat here if you know me, because I know the directions. Another good place to eat is...hmm...my house. My mom's an awesome cook.

You can also go to Kemaman to eat keropok lekor and sata or otak-otak. Oh yea lets not forget the Satay Zul which I still think serves the best satay ever.

Well that's it. Kuantan has 5 malls but 3 are sad. We don't have MPH, only Popular. We only have Starbucks. All drivers here drive at 40km/h including during the busy hours. So what else do you want?

Running...

2009-07-25T22:23:00.004+08:00

Kids,

I wanna share with you something that happened when I was in high school, I was in form 3 which was back in 2006. So for those of you who don't know, it was the PMR year. PMR was supposedly the most important exam for lower secondary school (my ass).

Anyway, it was a...whatever day. I only remembered that we had Physical Exercise that day. I always got lazy when it came to that, because all we ever did was play football. Obviously the teacher was a Malay, and Malays, boy they LOVE football!! Woohoo! They can't get enough!!

I got really tired and sick of football, and I knew that we were going to play football again, so on that day, I decided to not bring my P.E clothes and just sit in the class and study. Personally I don't see anything wrong with that, besides it was my PMR year. I wanted to do well.

So everyone went down to the field, except me and a few girls. I have to point out that the girls are Malay. Not exactly sure why I have to point out but, I guess it's just me. Not pointing them out would ruin the whole story. Anyway, so I was sitting and doing my work when suddenly a girl came to me. I've talked to her before but not exactly close. She thought we're close but to me we're not. And so she sat next to me and started talking about her personal problems. I immediately switched off the second she started yapping and continued with my work.

All of a sudden, because my face was too near to the exercise book, I didn't realise that my P.E teacher was standing right in front of me. The teacher's a guy by the way; Mat....something. Mat Sohai for all I care. Moving on, I was staring at Mat Sohai and our eyes locked for a full 4 seconds. I didn't even blink. What he did next was surprising.

He literally kicked the table and started shouting and ordering me to go down to the field and walked off. Well, he was angry that's for sure so I followed his orders. When I was at the field I had to line up with several others who were not wearing their P.E clothes. He came to each one of us and asked why aren't wearing our P.E clothes. I thought that it's kinda stupid because in a way he just wanted us to open our doors so that he can come up with a steamy comeback. When he came to me and asked why, I told him that I wanted to study. It went something like this:

Mat Sohai: Asal tak pakai baju PJ?
Me : Saya nak study, lagipu...
Mat Sohai: AAA takde takde takde, aku nampok ko bual-bual dengan tine(betina) tu. Toksa nak tipu! Engko ni pengawas...buat pe nak buat benda gini?

I got really angry when he started talking about my classmate. Two reasons actually, one being that it's totally unacceptable to call a girl betina. I think it's really disrespectful. Another reason is that I wasn't really talking to her because I totally switched off. She was the one talking, not me. I was accused of something I didn't do.

And to put more fuel to the fire, while he was saying his last sentence, he took my Prefect's tag from my shirt pocket and started tapping it on my forehead; just slightly above the nose bridge. I got really upset. I wanted to do something but I couldn't. I guess I wasn't strong enough. Everything was a blur after that because I couldn't really remember. Safe to say that what happened after that was not important.

So...yea. I didn't do anything which now makes me think of what I should have done when he was tapping my forehead.

1- Spit in his face
2- Spit, knee the groin
3- Spit, knee and also kick in the balls
4- Spit, slice out his eyes and his balls and stick his eyes in his ball sacs and take his balls and put them in his eye holes. (Not practical)

Yea...maybe I should have done the 3rd one. Wait no, I'm forgetting something.

5- Spit, knee, ball kick, RUN

Welcome

2009-07-20T17:18:00.003+08:00

Kids,

In the near future, someone's gonna find this blog and go 'Aha!!! I've found you!!'. So I thought, first impressions are important therefore I'll make this post a good one.

Welcome. Have fun reading. Now go to MSN, double-click my name and tell me how much my writing sucks. Thanks. Hope to see you again soon.

Monkey Business

2009-07-20T14:27:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Hmm...call me slow for not addressing this issue sooner. I'm just lazy to even bother. But now after reading and finding out about other people's opinions about this, I think they're just missing one small thing.

Personally, I feel that English should be continued and if you revert it back to Malay, it'll be another degradation. But I don't think that's the point. How much are we even getting, if Maths and Science are in English or not? It's not like the teachers are good enough. Obviously, they suck. Only a handful are really good at what they do. Most of the time we are producing bad teachers who remain as bad teachers with or without English.

My point is, you wanna change it back to Malay then fine, do it. But it is a slight downgrade. But whatever it is, make sure the quality of the education is worth the change. Make sure that by changing the language, it doesn't affect the quality of the education, as in making it worse because it's already bad. Make sure the change will increase the quality.

Take you pseudo intellectual theories and shove it.

2009-06-24T20:18:00.003+08:00

Kids,

Some people just "think" they know relationships and love. The truth is, they don't. You don't. I don't.

So when one of these assholes starts to actually "believe" that he/she knows, he/she starts giving advices and creates so called "theories" of what makes a relationship, a relationship. Some will even go all the way as to create a moronic chain mail and naming it "instructions for life" or whatever bullshit title, ordering you to send it to more than 20 people or else your penis will fall off and you will burn in hell...or something similar.

It's very conventional in my opinion. A relationship is something for you and your partner to share, not for others to judge. Someone told me that this person thinks that a girlfriend should be jealous and asks her boyfriend about his whereabouts. You kidding me right? No one wants a paranoid girlfriend dumbass. What's the point of being in a relationship, a state of deep mutual understanding between two people, when both of them are being paranoid about each others' doings? Isn't that a contradiction? I mean, the conventional idea of a girlfriend is being paranoid, whereas a conventional idea of a relationship is being understanding. Those two don't connect.

I remember this line from a chain mail I read: Don't trust a man/woman who doesn't close his/her eyes when you kiss.

I stopped halfway through reading that line to fight back spasms of vomit and sheer disgust. That's the biggest crock of shit I've ever read. How can you tell if your partner has his or her eyes open while you kiss unless you have your eyes open as well? ANSWER ME GOD DAMN IT!!

Sitting down at the deep end of the pool

2009-06-20T12:35:00.002+08:00

Kids,

I was walking alone at the mall after Friday prayers and started to think. We adapt when we're with our friends. I'm not exactly who I am when I'm with my friends. It is when I'm alone that I am myself, I speak to myself; in my own language. We all have our languages when we're talking to ourselves. The language is feelings. You feel a sentence; but you don't say that sentence to yourself, rather feel it and weirdly understand it. As for me, I'd try very hard to find a word that best describes that feeling. Most of the time I fail.

And so I was talking to myself, feeling if you will. I got tensed up, like I have lots of problems. When I got deeper, I couldn't find the problems but I know I have them. When I got to a problem, I questioned whether it really is a problem or is it just me who wants to make it a problem? I know that I know my problems, but at that moment, I wasn't too sure anymore. It was funny actually, walking alone at the mall looking at groups of friends walking and laughing together. They're so happy. I'm like that when I'm with my friends as well. But what happens when one of them in the group is alone?

The true self comes out. That person has his or her own questionable problems too.

So then I thought, maybe we're just masking(not a typo here, MASKING) our true selves when we're with others. We're just being how they want to see us "to be" in order to connect. We lower ourselves to a same level to better connect. What's even more interesting is that, in a way, we subconsciously agree to forget about our personal problems and adjust our levels, lower down or increase our levels so that we can be the same and have fun walking and laughing together. Some people I know here, are too dependent on being with friends. They can't be alone.

That is the wall. That's what separates being yourself and being another version of yourself that is likable. So when you tell me that you're lonely, don't expect me to pity you ok? Heck, I don't even think that it's sad or pitiful to be lonely. I'm glad that you're lonely, because you're being yourself.

Deeply cleanses and protects skin...

2009-06-10T23:11:00.002+08:00

Kids,

Halo...my name's Forest. Forest Gump. You want a chocolate? I can eat about a million and a half of these...those must be comfortable shoes...

Damn it...the effect is not there. I'm trying too hard when I write sometimes to get that effect when you read. When I write i'll get lazy halfway then the whole effect bocor...see?

What vacation mean?

Me and mama was on our own. But we don't mind...the house was never empty.

I'm Alex. It was raining so I was running to this bus stop. A girl with this box full of papers was standing there. I said hi and told her i wanna help with the papers.

I'm a girl in this girl's dream. I stalk her and i was "everywhere" in her dream.

I'm a rooster illusion...

...skin

2009-06-02T22:51:00.003+08:00

Kids,

If there's only one thing that you should NOT do in life, it's to not judge a person based on how he/she LOOKS. One sentence that can really piss me off would be something like this:

Hmmm...you don't LOOK like the type that [insert the rest of the bullshit here]

Just today the rest of my classmates realised that I am one of the brightest students in the batch and the way I write is very deep. A girl said to me, and I admit she's good too, she said 'you don't look like the type that writes a lot'.

Why must I look like the type that writes a lot to show that I do write a lot? She got me thinking after that and so I asked a few classmates how they thought about me when they first saw me. 2 out of 3 said that they thought I was a Mat Rempit.

Well here I am, trying to be the best at what I do and my skin is being the one that somehow can just reveal everything about me to someone. Seriously kids, grow up, I'm not kidding. Now, another question pops out after that: how does a Mat Rempit look like? What defines a Mat Rempit? Why am I put into this category even though I don't have any knowledge about being a Mat Rempit? I don't even dress like them.

If I don't dress like them, talk like them, walk like them, and have a bike like them...why am I still put in this category? I know why...

Just woke up...

2009-05-24T12:17:00.004+08:00

Kids,

It's very hard to keep you updated nowadays, well not because you really care about what I do, I just feel that the posts I put up are more for myself than the readers. I read back what I've written and memories flow in and the feeling is really good. But at the same time I don't want to see this as a diary because if I do, then it becomes sad. You don't show people what you write in your diary. Then what am I doing right now? What are bloggers doing? What is blogging?

A blog (a contraction of the term "Web log") is a Web site, usually maintained by an individual with regular entries of commentary, descriptions ...

blog - web log: a shared on-line journal where people can post diary entries about their personal experiences and hobbies

Diary entries...hmmm...an online diary/journal? A daily written record of (usually personal) experiences and observations. Maybe it's the thrill of writing something about yourself and finding out that people actually think your boring life is fun to them. Bloggers tend to feel more secure about their lives after finding out that readers accept the weird, sometimes stupid, pointless and ephemeral posts and topics. It's being accepted by the society is what they look for but also bloggers tend to write something that goes against the conventional thinking of a society. Being accepted to write based on such is also satisfying. You can see a pattern and an internal message in those patterns of posts, a message in those frequency of posts being put up by the blogger. Lets take a normal, teenage blogger. Lets name the blogger Jo. Jo's bored of life, has nothing to do and so Jo decided to write a blog. The first few posts are frequent. Jo will stop posting for awhile because of other more important responsibilities. After being accepted, Jo writes more, maybe 10 posts a month. Alas, one day Jo's not bored with life anymore, and is really busy living life. Now he writes 2 posts a month. Then Jo gets bored again, 10 posts.

What's my point? I don't have one. It's just interesting to see that pattern...

Then I admit, I'm a sucker for blogging. This is my journal about my personal experiences, observations and sad attempts at opposing conventional thoughts. And I admit, I feel satisfied to know that the readers like to read what I write. It gives confidence and I feel like altering a few parts in the way I write to make it not boring.

Wait...I...I do one more quickly and hand you over to Beardyman.

Anything is Possible Now...

2009-05-16T19:45:00.002+08:00

Kids,

I believe that my life's gonna see the love I give, return to me. That's what happened. The effort was worth it. Thank you so so much.

Improvisation

2009-04-21T01:30:00.003+08:00

This is something random that we did during rehearsals. Keep in mind that everything's improvised and we didn't plan anything. Seth, you're gonna like it.

You can't believe this sentence.

2009-04-14T16:17:00.005+08:00

Kids,

This sentence is false.

Is that sentence true or false? If it's true and it's false, then it's false because it's not true. That sentence cannot be true because it's stated that the sentence is false. If the sentence is false, then it is true, which again leads it back to being false. So is it true or false?

Shah and I

2009-04-14T15:29:00.004+08:00

Kids,

Everday I can see Shah waking up at 8.30 in the morning. I can see that he uses his handphone as the alarm and the alarm is the Soulja Boy song that he hates. I can see that he likes to snooze. He forces himself up, goes to the toilet and takes a shower and brushes his teeth at the same time. He goes back into his room after drying himself up, and sees his roommate, still sleeping. I can see Shah getting ready, not really thinking of what to wear, rather thinking of what he should wear. He wears shorts when there's an acting class on that day. He starts to comb his hair and uses the laptop screen as a mirror. I can see that he thinks of buying a mirror. He makes his bed, something I could see that he always does everyday before going to class, and takes his bag with his laptop inside and walks to his roommate. His roommate relies on Shah to wake him up everyday.

I can see Shah waking his roommate up, and he's not doing it with a bad heart. Shah tells his roommate that he's about to go to his class and walks out of the room. He takes the elevator and goes down. He walks alone, and thinks. He always thinks. It's hard to tell what he's thinking. He's thinking too much and too fast, like your eyes trying to look at a speeding bullet. He reaches the rooftop of his college, and sees his classmates. Everyone's so cheerful, except him. He observes from afar, and wonders why won't they shut up. I could see Shah shines when the timing is right. He opens his peacock feathers only when necessary.

I could see Shah controls. I can see Shah is having fun. I can see Shah doesn't like gossips. Shah is being observed. Shah observes.

Blues

2009-04-07T20:41:00.004+08:00

Savants

2009-04-07T20:27:00.003+08:00

Kids,

I have to say that I’m getting annoyed by the fact that a lot of people are looking down at what I’m doing currently. Performing arts is becoming so underrated that even someone who has an intelligence equivalent to a Malay in Balok would still underestimate the student who’s studying performing arts (i.e. my EST teacher Puan Rohana back in school. I just want to say fuck off and that you don’t deserve to be an EST teacher. You can write but there’s no way that you can speak.)

I think I should just point out to anyone out there who’s thinking of doing A levels or engineering or AUSMAT or whatever course just because he or she is scared to follow his or her real love for something totally opposite that don’t be scared that people might think that you’re a chicken. Just because you don’t do calculations in your course, it doesn’t mean that you’re stupid. We are special in our own special way. If someone is good with multiplications it doesn’t mean he’s more intelligent OVERALL than someone who is struggling to do so.

Have any of you heard of Howard Gardner? He’s the professor who proposed the theory of multiple intelligences. It suggests that the traditional notion of intelligence, based on I.Q testing, is far too limited. Instead, he proposed 8 different intelligences to put into account, a broader range of human capabilities and potential.

Linguistic intelligence ("word smart")

Logical-mathematical intelligence ("number/reasoning smart")

Spatial intelligence ("picture smart")

Bodily-Kinaesthetic intelligence ("body smart")

Musical intelligence ("music smart")

Interpersonal intelligence ("people smart")

Intrapersonal intelligence ("self smart")

Naturalist intelligence ("nature smart")

I can tell you now that the intelligences that I have are spatial, musical, interpersonal and bodily-kinaesthetic intelligences. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, just look them up. I want you to find your own intelligences and make sure that your intelligences and passion are on the same track. I know mine are. Good luck. And fuck you Puan Rohana.

A taste of things to come...symbal...Mortal Kombat theme

2009-03-28T22:52:00.007+08:00

Kids,

What am I doing now? Studying performing arts in the Department of Performance and Media at the Sunway University College. How is it? So far so good. The first class I went to last week was Media and Communication. What did we do? We watched The Matrix. After that we had to write an essay about how we feel about the movie and the ideology and what the movie propagates. Very fun.

Acting and Improvisation class. Too awesome. How did we get to know each other? By making a circle and each of us had to take turns going to the centre and answer the following questions:
1: My name?
2: Where I'm from?
3: Why am I here?
4: What's unique about me?

But the CATCH is, we have to answer all those while moving around. And no, not walking around because obviously it's boring. Move around, improvise, be creative. It's fun.

Thought and Writing class. Very cool. If my way of writing could change, I'll write a post here. Freewriting. Release yourself from the prison of rules. Fun way of writing.

So...how is it again? So far so good...but at the same time...fookin' AWESOME.

I Got Crabs

2009-03-05T22:40:00.005+08:00

Kids,

Adelaide has got to be one if not THE windiest city I've even been to. This is probably due to the fact that it's situated near the sea. I should've went bald when i had the chance.

It's the crab season here. Everyone, including a Chinese man who didn't know a single word of English whom i just met, would go to any one of the piers built alongside the beach with their crab traps or nets and just tie a fish head or two onto the nets and just throw them out to the sea. A rope would be tied at one end onto the net and the other onto the rails. After waiting, or maybe to put it in a more realistic way, wasting time, the net would or would not be filled with blue crabs. Big, juicy blue crabs.

I went crabbing with dad this morning. It was fun to be honest even though we got nothing but bad luck. We went there with 4 crab nets. 2 nets were taken away by the sea because my dad didn't tie the ropes tight enough. We were there for 4 hours but we didn't realise that 4 hours had actually passed. In the end, we came back smelling like fish because of the wind blowing off seawater, with 2 crab nets, and just one crab that humorously favoured our stingy piece of fish head than the Chinese man's huge piece of shark meat. But it was understandable because it was not a blue crab. And to add more salt to the wound, the crab had only one claw. "Kudung" is a perfect word for the crab. I realised that the saying 'the more you give, the more you get' actually makes sense now. The Chinese man caught a bagful of blue crabs as well as those normal crabs. Lucky bastard.

But overall, the experience was good. Bright blue sky, salty air, waves rolling over each other, cooling sea breeze(very cooling), at that moment nothing gets better than just throwing a crab net to the bluish green sea, wear those mirrored sunglasses, to sit down on the bench and read a novel while hoping for a few crabs to take the bait and getting disturbed by seagulls flying on top of your head every once in a while. It didn't matter whether there were crabs taking the bait. All that mattered was the realization of life and how wonderful life can be. We take our lives for granted sometimes don't we? Sometimes it's not about a woman performing a fellatio on one man while another is having sex with her in a position instinctively favoured by dogs. Whoa...that was random. Ah well...

To the person who's living across the sea, to an island where we'll meet, you'll hear the music through the air and I wanna tell you something that's just...coincidence.

Complexities and Headaches

2009-02-20T23:58:00.005+08:00

Kids,

It has been almost 2 weeks since I've come back. My body's back to following the Malaysian time and the Malaysian weather, my stomach's back to digesting Malaysian food, and I'm practically back to being myself. However, I still can't get my mind off Italy. I would, sometimes, stare blankly while I'm in the middle of something. While staring, my mind would be bombarded with wonderful memories that happened in Italy.

But it's not that I don't want to remember them. I want to. But only to a certain extent because I know that I must move on. But the thing is, you don't get this everyday! And also, the main thing that really stops me from moving on is the language. I can't forget Italian. It makes me think about languages. Languages are interesting. When I stare blankly or walk alone somewhere, my mind would go like this:

"Just so you know, Italian is a very complex language. There are alot of irregular verbs in Italian. One verb can branch off to more than 6 different endings. But the king of irregular verbs would be French. German has a few irregularities but it's almost the same as English. Actually I'm very grateful to have gone to a Linguistic School in Aosta because it opened my mind and made me understand better. And by understanding i mean, the reason why languages have to be complex.

You see, my physics teacher used to say that human beings are getting lazier and lazier. We tend to invent things to solve our everyday problems. For example, when we're lazy to memorise a few house numbers, we just put them into our phonebook in our handphones. Same goes with languages. In English, words change according to the time of the event: past, present and future. Therefore, when speaking to a person, you can reduce the amount of words you use and just go straight to the point. In Italian, words not only change according to the time, but also to the gender: feminine or masculine."

Still reading this? Awesome...

"Hence, when speaking to someone in Italian, you can tell him when was the event and who was involved. Italian is a very old language which was based on Latin so it makes perfect sense why it's so complex because it is very old.

Unlike Malay, it's a very young language. We don't have irregularities when it comes to the time: past, present, future. We just add another word, sometimes another sentence. Because we, as humans, are lazy, we tend to cut down the number of words used when talking in Malay, and also use words that's not even in our dictionary. Due to that, our Malay becomes so wrong, gramatically, that we are basically, tearing the language apart and most Malaysians don't speak Malay anymore. English is becoming the most widely spoken language in Malaysia now. Malay can't grow anymore because in this era, everything moves quickly. There's no reason to learn Bahasa Malaysia in schools anymore in the future, eventhough the government keeps changing the spelling of words and even change the rules of the Malay grammer. All these efforts are useless if you ask me. Maybe, just maybe in time Malay will be complex as well."

There you go kids. I just dumped a big one right there. My head feels lighter now...phew.

Ipod Nano Special Edition Product Red....gone.

2009-02-16T00:51:00.003+08:00

Kids,

You know, being back is not really a happy thing. First of all, the idea of coming back to Malaysia. It was really depressing. Secondly, I accidentally left my Ipod Nano on the plane. That was really depressing. Sono testa di cazzo. Porca puttana...damn it.

Here comes another stage in life where you have to start moving on with your life again. Show's over now get out. And to be really honest...I can't find any inspiration here to write something new.

I had the most wonderful nap today. (Note for the slow: I was just poking on a stupid blog i just read)