The week with 3 assignments, minimum blog time and Superman Returns.

I’m screwing assignments aside today. It’s been a long while since I tried to blog (ok, I lied. I have 3 drafts in my laptop, but I don’t intend to publish them now), and I need the pleasure of doing so before I crack under the amounting, stacking nasty things called assignments (ok, I lied again. I never really do bother with assignments until the very last minute).

But it has been a busy week. An interview and two assignments clustered together for 5 days. I’m not having proper sleep lately, and I can tire out pretty easily (but then I always do. Maybe I should try D.O.M.). But I can hardly call it a bad week. Exhausted as I may be, somehow the hectic atmosphere and the rush of work makes things rather lively. Shows that I’m alive, you see, instead of a couch potato buried under potato chips. And I do have certain pleasures in finishing my assignments late into the night (so that I can brag about the time I sleep and probably scavenge a few good Aww’s and Poor Thing’s from the girls *wink*).

But there was that sleeping disorder… and not to mention that nasty stomach ache that’s still plaguing me until now; a stabbing, burning sensation that comes in inconsistent waves of attacks. While it is very much better now, I’m not quite fond of the sudden bursts of agony (that makes I groan, saying “Uuughh...” So that people would think that I’m under a bad case of constipation).

No, well, I can’t really complain. The week’s been good, tiring, yes, but good. And the rush of assignments is very obviously due to my impeccable ability at becoming utterly lazy and procrastinating (it comes with a tub of lard and six-pack spare tires around the belly). I’ve been lucky, even, managing an interview (on Wednesday) when I’ve been desperate for one, and just today I found myself at the company of two very pretty (and fascinating) ladies while watching some super-man flying around with a silly red sheet and blue tights. Heck, this week could very well be nomination number 4 contending for The JE’s catastrophically lame Awards for “Best Week of 2006”. If it wasn’t for that bloody stomach ache.

Well, the interview’s been alright, if you actually care to know (and I know you don’t, and you’d rather scroll all the way down and post some snazzy comment that’ll make me look like a fool, you damn *&%$) . (Ok I take it back. Just joking :P). We (my partner Derwoei and I) managed to snag this rather famous Chinese DJ, named Chan Fong. If you’re a regular listener of 98.8 FM, you’ll probably recognize him as the morning talk-show co-host for Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and also as the tall, somewhat charming fellow that appeared in advertisements for Ogawa and Diamond Waters.

Only he wasn’t all that charming when we interviewed him. He looked positively bored and uninterested, though I can’t blame him. Let’s just face it; he worked from 6 until ten that morning surviving on decaf latte and Kopiko while talking into a microphone, and then finds himself (possibly unwillingly) whisked into a room to be interviewed by two droopy-eyed Chinese boys incompetent enough to make him laugh had he the energy to do so (not to mention that one of the boys is horrendously short, fat and ugly. Yours truly). But he was not that bad. At least he was kind enough to allow us to feel comfortable (we were practically so tensed that we had trouble talking without stammering like a nervous schoolgirl), and he did make an effort to crack a joke or two (which only works on Derwoei, who had enough sense to laugh. I was literally petrified into a mindless moron with a notebook and a pen). What surprises me was that he was well wiser than he looks. No, seriously! He struck me as a clowning guy with charms but complete ignorance at first, but instead he was spouting insights and thoughts as though he has been rehearsing them at his showers for 2 decades. There I was expecting a Robin Wiliiams in yellow skin speaking fluent Chinese, and instead I sit there listening to a well-accented Cantonese Larry King. No wonder I was getting sleepy (forgive me; I’m trying to blame something else and not my purposed late slumber for any misconduct of that day, which was aplenty and all due to immense sleepiness).

Did I mention that he is tall? A good 180 cm (for Malaysian’s standard, maybe), and his hands are like bear paws with German frankfurters for fingers. In other words, BIG (but I’m a short and puny guy, so maybe it’s just me).

Screw Chan Fong for now. I’ve had enough of him for the moment, and now I only want bask in the remnants of the beauty of this blissful day (not all that peaceful, though… damn stomach ache). A highly anticipated movie with two sassy gals. Savvy, if I may put it. I was so high spirited that I didn’t have the notion to feel angry at the girls for being late, so that I missed the trailers and possibly 15 minutes of the movie. Superman Returns had left much to be desired for, though. I was somewhat disappointed (though I can’t find a plausible flaw in it. I guess I just don’t like the plot.

The stupidity in me was to leave for home early. WTF was I thinking? I don’t normally get to spend a day out with two pretty girls that can be either very cute or horrendously cute. Somehow I felt like a coward; a coward with a bad stomach ache and a weak gut to go with it, trying to avoid the overwhelming intensity of walking around a shopping mall with two lovely girls by your side (though it is highly doubtful that either would seem like somehow that’ll date me). So I left, cooking up some half-true excuse. But I was better off away, perhaps, since I’m not really being a good company anyways (quiet, droopy, looking gloomy and sleepy at the same time). There was that other reason why I couldn’t bring myself to stay. But ignore that. The point is that I was being a coward. A fucking yellow, gutless coward. Sucks to be me.

Sigh to a good day. Goodnight people.

Word of the day: Unrequited ~ Not reciprocated or returned in kind: unrequited love

Currently reading: Staying Alive by Matt Beaumont (not to be confused with Stay Alive, the teen horror movie currently airing at cinemas nationwide). Thanks Rachel!

Song of the day: Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows (OST for Shrek 2)

“ Well baby I surrender
To the strawberry ice cream
Never ever end of all this love... Well I didn't mean to do it
But there's no escaping your love."


P.S: i've (finally) updated Amanda's blog. go check it out if u want. the link is named The Blue Panda

Wasted, and wasting you.

How long has it been since I posted? I’ve been deliberately neglecting this blog, because I was practically wasted for a good couple of days last week. A lot has happened, and I had tried to draft out a few entries which I somehow decided not to post (I’d like to refrain from lobotomizing anyone unfortunate to read them). Well, since I’ve been absent for the long run, I saw fit to post something a lil longer today (as if anyone cares, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you reel in horror and close this damn window before you vomit away your sanity).

The past week has been… I don’t know. I just realized that I couldn’t remember what happened on Monday and Tuesday. I’m probably too fatigue to recall them, perhaps, after what my brother did to me (I’ll tell it another day). Anyways, I skipped college on Wednesday to do some last minute research for the feature writing assignment (though I did spend the first half of the day on the ps2 and the Silent Hill movie). Research was futile; I was a couple days too late to start on it. The ministry of education never answered my call, and the national service number was a dud despite being posted online. The Malaysian Psychologist Centre is a blood-sucking, soul-leeching, life-reducing piece of greedy organization that wanted to charge me RM300 for 15 minutes of comments. Holy crap. Now I want to be a psychologist (I can go around saying “You want my time? 500 bucks, and I’ll give u 15.” Savvy). When I finally did get the perfect number, it was too late to set up an interview (writing was due Thursday). Oh well. So I jumbled up whatever nonsense I had and wrote the most obnoxiously directionless feature. I only managed 3 hours of sleep that night. Went to college on Thursday and voila! Puan Ana was absent because she was unwell. Screw. Well I did had time to rewrite the feature, which I did well into 2 a.m. (so I went 2 days with 3 hours of sleep, and 3 days on 6 hours). Came home on Friday and slept for 6 hours on the couch. I was glad I cancelled badminton, though I’d like a little diversion. Nothing like giving the shuttle a little smash or 2. Takes the mind off things.

The week wasn’t all that dull, though. I had a considerably good amount of time with Amanda alone, something which rarely happened since the first semester. I was glad conversation went ok, though I had the constant and recurring feeling that I had once more made an idiot of myself. We talked for a long while, and then went to watch the juniors debate. They lost, though, which was a pity because I thought they were good. And the opposing team was a bunch of conceited arrogant bastards (or so they seem). One of those few people that I’d like to pull a gunny sack over and dump into the South China Sea. Feed the depleting sharks, people, so that we can have more shark fin soup.

There was this one weird moment where I walked with the three girls that I had been most romantically interested in. One is the girl that I had a crush with for some time now. One is a girl that’s way out of my league but attractive nonetheless. One is a girl that I can’t help but be attracted to her weird, feisty and fussy behavior which can either be cute or utterly bizarre. But it’s fated that I can never date anyone of them, and if you know who I am and how I look, you’ll know why *winks*.

That’s about the best (and worst) of things for the past week, if you don’t count the fateful Thursday morning (very, very early in the morning), in which all my uncertainties clash like Titans on the attack of Mount Olympus. Now, to fulfill something I have managed to catch during my absence…

I’ve been tagged. By Rachel.

Read with caution. Guaranteed to induce severe boredom. If not, sue me under Section 16 of the Promise Act 1915 (fiction). Or just send me hate mail.


AWESOME PEOPLE I WOULD WANT TO MEET:

1. Tom Hanks ~ so I can comment on his Robert Langdon haircut. Scary. But no. I’m a fan his.
2. Phillip Pullman ~ awesome writer!
3. Neil Gaiman ~ best new author on my list.
4. Hayao Miyazaki (director of the superb Sprited Away) ~ I LOVE his works.
5. Erm… Ben folds ~ I dunno why, but I just want to meet him.

THINGS I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT:

1. Movies.
2. Books.
3. My ps2.
4. Anything that can allow me to write, type or draw with.
5. Food, and a non-stick frying pan.

And following Rachel’s new category: PEOPLE I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT.

My father (though I’d hate admit it, but he fixes everything and he cooks).


I WISH I COULD:

1. Write like the best authors there is and was.
2. Make a movie with all the budget that I want.
3. Make a video game.
4. Think sharp and quick enough.
5. Love and be loved in return… (just kidding. I can love but never be loved).


I WANT:

1. To be a good author
2. To write a novel and publish it.
3. To become a good journalist, as a main occupation with authoring as my second.
4. To write for a video game magazine.
5. The have all the gaming consoles in the world, and a super-power PC.


SONGS THAT I THINK ARE AWESOME:

(I’d like to ask if ochestral musics can be defined as songs.)

1. Your Song by Elton John, also the Ewan Mcgregor version.
2. I’m Still Here by John Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls.
3. Season Calls by Hyde (j-rock)
4. Star Wars theme by John Williams, performed by the London Symphony Ochestra.
5. The Legend of Ashitaka (ochestral) by Joe Hisaishi.


HOW I SEE MYSELF IN 10 YEARS:
1. Juggling a journalism career while writing fiction/fantasy during weekends.
2. Married, possibly, or perhaps dating (finally)
3. (if unmarried) Living in an apartment with a dog (retriver, perhaps, but I hope Lanna can live till then…), cooks with John Williams on and have a gaming console.
4. (if married) Living in a terrace house with my wife and dog, cooks with the TV on and have a gaming console (hope my wife plays…)
5. Hopefully happy, content, and finally living a life.


RANDOM FACTS:

1. I’m bout insane enough to imagine stories to myself until I sleep. Which is when any new ideas or scenes for novels come.
2. I have a tendency to ruffle the back of my head whenever I’m nervous, thinking, abashed or confused.
3. Cooking is about one of the best aesthetic for me, though I cook like crap. The sizzling and simmering is somehow soothing, and it gives me time to reflect things.
4. I can imagine myself giving a very good speech, then screw up due to stage fright.
5. Light & Easy radio station is THE radio station which I tune in the most. For those who don’t know what it broadcasts, it airs oldies and relaxing songs of the past. There. Call me gay, old or boring.




MISCONCEPTIONS:

1. That I’m Christian. I get that a lot. Nope, I’m a quiet Buddhist.
2. That I’m the studious type. I’m never touch my notes till the very last moment before my exams.
3. That when I’m silent - with a finger to my lip - I’m thinking deeply. I’m actually lost or purely confounded, and drowning myself with dragons and pixies.
4. That sometimes I lost weight. Some of my clothes can induce optical illusion.
5. That I’m rich, because I have a maid. I’m not. I barely have enough to spend for a week.


WHO I WANT TO TAG:
1. Hmm… Isaac?
2. Ng Ju Ee, if she’d finally return from her long-term blog hiatus.
3. Pei Ling
4. Wai Yee
5. M-N-G.

And if I may add:
6) Amanda Lee (who never owns her own blog) and 7) Michelle Lim (who never blogs, and I wish she does).

*can’t think of a proper conclusion* Goodnight people.

Word of the day: Misantrope ~ One who hates or mistrusts humankind.

Anime of the day: Bleach ep 85.

Currently reading: My high school magazine.

Song of the day: Garden Party by someone I forgot. An oldie.

Hopefully something... something?

It is night, it’s hot despite the air-cond (gotta get it vacuumed tomorrow). Brother turned to his side, moaning (probably from my typing) as the bed sighed and creaked. I should be sleeping right now, in fact, and I wanted to, but somehow the sleep won’t come. Perhaps I didn’t want the night to end this way, subconsciously, telling myself that hitting the sack now would waste whatever possibilities that will become impossible tomorrow, and for many days to come. Maybe that’s why I sought to posting this, you know, do something worthwhile for the day. Something that you may possibly look back and remember that you’ve at least tried to make an effort in attempting to make something useful out of a totally wasted day.

Yeah right, as if blogging is something useful. Something useful could’ve been finishing up on my feature writing, or salvaging other means of getting whatever celebrity I can scrape an interview from. Something useful meant that I do not spend the day on the ps2 or reading a novel, and bath the dogs or vacuum the air-cond or fix that broken kitchen light. Something useful could’ve been something useful. For real.

So now I sit here combating my heavy eyes and totally disregarding my mother’s order to sleep early, typing down incoherent and pointless stuff hoping to pass it off as an achievement of the day. I guess I’m quite the incredulous idiot around the neighbourhood. That makes me and that boy I know who thinks that he’s smart for getting a RM2000 ps2. So smart that I can’t help but applaud his genius. Smashing.

Maybe there’s more to type, you know, things that aren’t totally pointless and random. Let’s start with this week, or last week if you want to put it. The week was… well, peculiar, I might say, but all the while retains the same lingering feeling of dull and monotony. So what’s so peculiar? Well, for starters, I gave 20 cents to a couple who needed 20 cents in order to purchase their train tickets. They had said thank you and the guy had patted my shoulder in gratitude. I spent the entire day wondering if it was an act of kindness or merely a quick and instantaneous method of ridding cumbersome people off the ticket machine. Or both. Kindness in order to buy that darn ticket before the train comes.

Then there was that 2 days in which I spent 2 hours each loitering around Pudu Plaza, which is as dodgy and gloomy as an alley in New York could be (with gambling arcades, triad members selling waffle pancakes and guys with tattoos watching Naruto at the DVD shop. I’d say). Alright, I may have exaggerated, but then it was dodgy. So dodgy-looking that I was afraid that a thin but brutal looking Chinese man (in shorts and Hawaiian t-shirt) would beat me up while I attempted a high-score at the arcades.
He left when I lost, though, walking out of the arcades and picking up a little boy who came waddling at him. They went to the candy store. Nice.

Note to self: do not walk into a baby departmental store and pretend to be interested in Rusky biscuits and Pet Pet diapers in order to cover up walking into a baby departmental store by accident and making the cashier looked ever so hopeful (they don’t seem like they had any business).

Friday was a badminton game which was the best badminton game I’ve had in a long time, but left me feeling empty as I travelled back home, which I deduced was not caused by the actual game but after the game, during which I felt like a complete idiot due to my own idiocy, and later felt like a complete moron for having felt like a complete idiot, which resulted in me feeling like a complete donkey for all the wrong reasons that seemed right. G-dang it.

And there was that cheap umbrella I bought which handle disappeared when I opened it for the second time. Or that mysterious cut on my finger which came suddenly without me feeling a bit (until I saw that my steering wheels were stained with blood) and rendered me handicapped when I tried and play O2 Jam. The JVC TV is acting up; one minute it was alright, and the next minute I tried to turn it on it wouldn’t start. Then I found out that my cousin was gay. Just kidding. He did look like one, once, though I forgot which instance. He must’ve been asleep, I guess. Dreaming…

Time I do my own dreaming… guess I’ll hit the sack now, before I start typing down everything about my crushes…

Anyways, I added links to Rachel’s blog and Thila’s second blog. Check them out, they’re cool, and they sure as hell are saner that I am.

Goodnight people. Dream.

Word of the day: Ubiquitous~Being or seeming to be everywhere at the same time; omnipresent

Currently reading: The Supernaturalists by Eoin Colfer, recently just finished 8 days of luke by Diana Wynn.

Movie of the day: Disney Pixar’s Cars.

Anime of the day: Bleach ep 84-85.

Games currently playing: Tomb Raider Legends.

Irrelevant jumble of words.

Today was, if I am allowed to imply it, a fairly uneventful day. But I have come to learn that a day, or everyday, or every second since before time immemorial, is in everyway eventful. So what that seems like a day of boredom and monotony, if perceived in a different view, could very well be as eventful as those days where the chain of monotony shatters.

Perhaps there is never monotony. Or maybe does monotony exists, but only as a shell that obscures the fundamental things that if perceived would make the day fresh and new all the same. But humans, as humans are and entitled to be, would always perceive things from the flesh, or appearance, and never see beyond the shell. If days are like a carousel, a spinning, recurring repetition of uneventful events, rotating the same picture after every turn, perhaps it is difficult for one to see that every turn is indeed different in minute ways.

So what is the purpose of my typing down the above tangle of incoherent and irrelevant words? Shallow and thick as I am, I’m incapable of seeing the small fundamental things that differ in indifference. So I type a new thing everyday in order to break the chain of monotony and still see the day as a new day (at least in a small way).

But no. To be honest, I’m just typing to humour myself, as I have always done whenever I can. It was also a test to see how comprehensible I can possibly make my crap sound. Where the heck am I going now?

So anyways, if I try and apply whatever that I’ve just typed down above to myself today, then it’s quite unjust to deem the day uneventful. True, it’s one of those dull boring unprogressive days, but if I looked a little harder, perhaps there’s more to today than meets the eye.

For example, well, for the half decade that I’ve been reading Eoin Colfer, I just found out today that Eoin should be pronounced as “Owen” (been pronouncing him as Eh-oh-wynn for as long as I can remember). I realised that a RM99 DVD player can have progressive scan while a RM199 doesn’t. My JVC TV wasn’t even repaired; the repairers tested it for 2 days and found nothing wrong with it, and during dinner the TV broke down again. Lara Croft is British. Mosquitoes have an affection of trailing my black 3-quarter trousers and only it. Smell of burnt mosquitoes can keep them away. I have a strange affection for connecting AV wires. King Kong is stupid, or horrendously stupid, despite being able to outsmart so damn many things. Peter Jackson is not directing the Halo movie but is executive producer. People actually make fan-art for His Dark Material. Cosplayers can be really shameless (but I salute them). I trampled on my maids ginger plant yesterday. Quietus means death.

Well, if new things means a day can be new, or different, then everyday is new.

Isn’t it?

Word of the day: Quietus:

1~Something that serves to suppress, check, or eliminate.
2~Release from life; death.
3~A final discharge, as of a duty or debt.

Anime of the day: Ouran High Host Club ep 10.

Song of the day: Wings Beneath My Feet by John Tesh (saxophone)

Untitled jumble of words.

I found it rather ironic, that on the very first day of the World Cup, the TV broke down smack in the middle of the 9.30 chinese drama. It was hard for everyone, especially for dad, who had been praying that nothing, absolutely nothing, should happen to void him of his unrivaled bliss. Only mom wasn’t really affected; she even found it positively funny, until we ripped off my parents room’s TV as a replacement (she can’t watch her Chinese VCDs in the room). Well, the replacement TV was small, paling in comparison to my large, old JVC, so in a bid to have a perfect 2006 world cup season, dad decided to get a brand new LCD flat panel TV.

Ok, I have been expecting a LCD HDTV to come into the household sometime, but never in this decade (perhaps around 2010, when the price should be well below RM2000). Excited? Nope, not really. I’d prefer we just try and fix the old JVC and miss a couple of games (hey, there WAS a small TV). But dad was intent on getting one, and mom was happy to help afford it for the luxury of great video entertainment, so we hitched off to a shop in Puchong after scanning some adverts and offers available (we later discovered that we went to the wrong shop, and bought the TV there). It was an LG RX2LR flat-panel LCD, costing RM5000 after a discount (originally about RM6000, and RM6990 at Sen Q). Crystal screen, HDTV capabilities, and good video options. Worth every penny. I’d still rather have the old JVC.

The trouble with the new LCD TV was that it was longer and shorter than we had intended to get, so it wouldn’t fit in the TV cabinet, and when it does there was a large gap between its top and the zenith of the cabinet. So dad did some woodwork (2 hours of my time today) and managed to cover the gap. Then there was another problem: LCD TVs are tailored to accommodate newer technology, and we found ourselves 2 AV ports short and 2 extra, now useless component ports. We did some wiring today (another 2 hours of a beautiful Sunday), with me doing most of the job (dad’s not good in understanding which wires should go where and bro have his studies). Nothing’s improved, not even with the new component wire. Somehow with them the images are either monochrome or plain blue. Gotta call the electrical shop tomorrow.

Now the LCD TV sits proudly in the cabinet, beautiful displays and all, entertaining my parents who sit with the (supposed) satisfaction of owning a LCD TV, while the old JVC, newly repaired for only RM12, settles comfortably in its large intimidating form (exaggerated) beside me at the dining hall, where it will spend the rest of its years projecting what the LCD is projecting for our dining pleasures and the permanent resident of my PS2 which I need not (finally) put away after playing.

Alls well ends well, huh?

Goodnight people.

Word of the day: Lobotomy ~A surgical operation involving incision into the prefrontal lobe of the brain, formally used to treat mental illness
Lobotomize~ an act of performing Lobotomy.

E.g: I would like to lobotomize a certain TMJ, who I believe is very obviously under a rare mental disease which causes her to tell the lamest impromptu jokes.

Anime of the day: The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya ep 10 and Ouran High Host Club ep 9

Just finished reading: Howl’s Moving Castle.

Song of the day: Hedwig’s Theme by John Williams, performed by the London Symphony Orchestra.

The new puppy.

Dad is really capable of stacking problems after problems on me. While he goes on telling me (once upon a time) that these are responsibilities of a growing man, sometimes all these… these things he’s capable of bringing home, is cumbersome and frustrating.

Like almost half a year back, when he came home with birds to rear. For feng shui purposes or something, I don’t remember. While I might find the prospect of having a couple of animals around the house (I like animals, note) quite enjoyable, or the somewhat sweet and soothing coo of the birds in the morning placidly lifting, the fact that later on I’ve basically been set to take full responsibility of them. That means that I have to tend to their food and water and clean their cages once a couple of days, and it sucks to be told off for forgetting something I didn’t want and need to take responsibility in. And the birds are psychotic phobia-matic fowls that flutter like mad whenever I take their cages down, sending feathers and feces spewing about. Alright, never mind the birds now.

So he takes home a puppy from his working site, an offspring of one of the many stray dogs that inhabit the site (that are occasionally fed by the workers, and some being kept as pets). I was perplexed and stunned, not to mention pissed and exasperated. I already have 3 dogs at home, and heck, apart from the maid, I’m the one responsible for them. And 3 are enough for me to worry about; from bathes to exercise to hair trimming and wounds & injuries and poo in the garden. And now he brings home ANOTHER puppy. I’ve had like, 5 puppies previously, and while I love them all (save Speed), I really don’t NEED/WANT another one right now. ARGH!

Alright, I admit, I’m a sucker when it comes to puppies and dogs. I can’t help it. Even my genes can’t help it. I watched a program long ago saying that male’s have genes that generally makes them adore things with big pleading eyes and cuddly looks (but then, I assume that it applies to every sane person in the world). The above applies to teddy bears, puppies, Puss in boots from Shrek and girls (ever wonder why anime girls are such a hit?)

So despite the amount of resentment I managed to shower at the idea of a 4th dog at home, I’m hopelessly drawn to him (yeah, it’s a male puppy). He’s yellowish white, with one drooping ear while the other stands, somewhat pink nose (a rarity. I haven’t seen one) and a gloomy face (long snout, but I predict that it’ll be stout when he grows).

Just approximately 5 minutes ago named Ah Wong by my dad (to symbolize luck, wealth and prosperity, whatever), which I still thing doesn’t suit him (still, it’s better than the names I’ve considered for him, which ranges from Fenrir to Logan to Balto to The-puppy-with-one-droopy-ear), he’s quite unusual. Unusual in behavior, and attitude. He’s feisty, but feisty with anger, much unlike being feisty with food or ear-scratches. Something glares in his eyes; anger, perhaps, or hatred, or fear. Like a caged tiger, somewhat. He’s vicious, while always afraid, and boy does he bite. I had to handle him with gardening gloves when I transferred him to his cage, and his bite hurt despite the thickness.

And while other puppies before him are afraid at first, then horrendously playful, he’s never changing (or not yet, maybe). Brooding, scowling with angry eyes. Something tells me that he has seen and learned a lot, despite his short time of being alive. Perhaps living in a stray infested site where territories are protected, food is fought for and survival of the fittest has robbed him of his puppy joys. He has learned that strength and wariness reigns, and is constantly aware, prepared, and ready to fight. Perhaps time will change him. But now, now, he’s like a wolf of the wild.

He’s gonna be one heck of a dog to train. Sigh.

I’ll start by being able to pat him properly first. He still growls when I place my hands close to him.

Goodnight people.

Word of the day: Centennial~ 1: a hundredth anniversary.
2: things related to a hundredth anniversary.

Just finished reading: American Gods (great book. GREAT, great book).

Song of the day: Superman by Five for Fighting.

The night before...

Tension is in the air, heavy and depressing, somewhat, to those who prefer an air of light and comfort. While it wasn’t any worse than situations of imminent and impending dread; those moments when the very particle of air suffocates and confines you in a cell of swirling condemnation, the tension is enough to tug at the spine so that discomfort looms around discreetly but can be felt at every breathe.

It was clear that everyone was affected, excluding the maid who wouldn’t, or shouldn’t, be worried in things such as this. To my right now, the 3 black joss sticks burn themselves out placidly, the sweet but smoky scent circulated around the table by my fan. Dad had saw that he should perform some prayers by himself. No doubt wishing and praying for luck for my brother’s exam tomorrow.

Perhaps I should be praying as well; offering more joss sticks, or perhaps just go in a silent prayer in front every deity. But no, not now, perhaps. Maybe later. I don’t want my brother and father seeing me to it. Why? I don’t know why.

Perhaps I’m concerned; truthfully and honestly worried, of my brother and his exams. Think back weeks before, I wasn’t even bothered to know when the exam is coming, or comprehending the severity and importance of it all. Now, it seemed that the weight of the tension has settled on my shoulder as well, constricting my breathing and multiplying my anxiety. Sighing isn’t working now. I find myself had half-willingly forgiven the moments my brother had (somewhat) ungraciously pissed me off while I helped him memorize his stuff. I guess it’s better like this. I was quite ready place all my ranting, complaints and profanity in this post and aim it at him.

My brother is already in a state that borders between sanity and dropping into the dark chasm of craziness and lunatic-ism (insanity). The last time I helped him memorize, it was as though his mind came to a decision to stop functioning for the night. He was aware of it, thankfully, and he told me he don’t intend to fry his brains and go mindless at the exam hall tomorrow. But he was already tired, DEAD tired. When we were memorizing (a couple of minutes earlier, one last effort), his temper had increased two-fold. He couldn’t remember if I had mentioned something before, and he couldn’t remember whether or not he told me to stop or which stuff he didn’t want to hear. He was stating cases 2 pages away and then reverts back to the current pages, leaving me baffled and confused, and then he would get pissed off by it.

I’m starting to feel wasted myself. Spending almost the entire day helping my bro memorize, I’m close to losing it as well, especially during times when my brother started to prod at my limits. I can’t totally blame him from blasting his temper, but one can’t help but feel ticked-off, and I’m doing it voluntarily and under my obligation as a younger brother.

I’m so wasted that I declined to join my cousin Ivan to the Motorshow tomorrow. But then I’m quite broke here, and I’d rather spend tomorrow on the ps2. Sorry Ivan. But as usual, you’re better off without me.

Goodnight people.

Word of the day: Vicarious

1->Felt or undergone as if one were taking part in the experience or feelings of another: read about mountain climbing and experienced vicarious thrills.
2->Endured or done by one person substituting for another: vicarious punishment.
3->Acting or serving in place of someone or something else; substituted.
4->Committed or entrusted to another, as powers or authority; delegated.
5->Physiology. Occurring in or performed by a part of the body not normally associated with a certain function.

Still Reading: American Gods and countless amounts of those law shits I had and still have to deal with.

Anime of the day: Tsubasa Chronicles ep 30, and KIBA ep 9.

Song of the day: Bitches Ain’t Shit by Ben Folds Five.