Warning: Teenage ranting.

Yeah, well, I’m disappointed that I didn’t get any comments for the story I posted previously (though I did get myself 3 reviews at the Great writing site). This comes to show that either no one reads this (even she who said that I should regulate on blogging). Or maybe my story suck so much it’s sympathy that I didn’t get comments. But what am I pouting and complaining here for? I know very well the reasons for my lackluster blogspot, so what I can do now is make it a better place. But every writer wants a little feedback anyhow, so yeah; I’m lamenting my arse off like a pussy boy who lost in
Boggle.

Sorry for being irritating. Blame it on short fuse, or pent up frustration, whatever. It’s been a while since I angst myself up in this darned thing, so I’m going rodeo with guns
a-blazing.

Let’s see, who do I verbally abuse first? Ah, yes, that Dog-garn stupid lecturer of mine, TMJ. Yes, I still don’t know her/his/it’s gender, and despite somehow accepting that she’s female I’m still having my doubts. Wait, it’s not fair, is it? I’m raging over her confusing gender, which is not her fault I daresay (not unless she wants to pull a Mulan to preserve her family honor). Yes, what I ought to be flaming about is the fact that she sucks in teaching. To all you possible fans of TMJ out there, go suck lollipop. She’s not that good. No proper notes, no course lay-out, freaking annoying attitude and LAME, I repeat to Houston, LAME jokes! Close to par with the lamest joker I know, ever, in my sorry life, and God help that I don’t get exasperated enough already having to hear nonsensical and FREEZING jokes EVERY CLASS SINCE COLLEGE STARTED. Ah, right, I remembered a certain lecture this year when TMJ mentioned that ranting in a blog or journal is –what was it?- oh right, MENTAL. Yeah well, maybe it’s psychologically unnerving to the simple minded such as yours, but excuse me you gender-confusing tart-turd of a stinking lecturer if I may have your obviously shallow attention, if I don’t fucking do this I’ll fucking EXPLODE in your face. Yes, call 99999999 people around the world who write to release their tension mental and mock the very basic of the course I’m setting down; JOURNALISM. Fuck you. Keep your impertinent and shallow remarks to yourself. If you can’t say anything NICE, don’t say anything at all. Even a thumping cartoon rabbit from Bambi knows that. Stop making me hate your already abhorring classes.

And to the lamest joker I know, shut up. You’re lame, face it and keep your hypothermia-inducing jokes to yourself. And yeah, for a little extra information, take notice if people laugh with you or not, because it never was. That’s perceiving things, and if you can’t do that I seriously doubt your future career. And don’t confuse between people who laugh at you. AT YOU.

To the friend most people call Soft Drink, I know you won’t be freaking reading this shit, but seriously for goodness sake THINK of your fucking future. You’re 20 years old and you can’t even attend classes for your own sake, not to mention that you’re facing multiple examination failures and a horrible attendance record. Think, dude. You’re here for education. You’re here, on your own will, to learn about the things you intend to be your future. So fucking attend class and study. Skipping classes with pathetic excuses such as having lack of sleep or lethargy is dung-pot. Stop whatever crap you do up all night; playing mahjong or toxicating yourself with cheap beer or whatever, and study for a change. And you have a girlfriend in the same course you attend, and if you have any pride in yourself COME for her sake, not humiliate her by being the most pathetic student of the class. Yes, I know I’m not in position to talk all this shit to you; I’m a lazy-ass moron and hardcore gamer idiot, but if I can finally see doing something to yourself and your loved one’s worth and changing for the better, it doesn’t mean you can’t. Wake up and smell reality. You’re 20. Act like one.

To Teh Derwoei my good friend and course mate, I have nothing to say to you except to ask if you’ll be kind enough to stop your excessive gaming at night and study seriously for a change. I wonder how you could face another Re-sit, because I seriously can’t.

Diane, call your friend. Just do it.

Ju Ee, UPDATE BLOG!!!

Isaac, a computer CAN’T DIE. Not unless you affectionately want it so.

Oh, and Isaac, sorry for saying this, but you basically gave me 57% for my translation exam. Confetti!!! Champagne and sushi on ice!!! Where are my bloody fireworks?

My brother! YOU’RE TOO HEALTHY! You’re scaring the crap out of everybody. But good for you. At least you’re happy.

Dad! Please be more considerate.

Mom, stop digging my dandruff.

Max my lovable pet dog, for the sake of your male-hood over your need to chew on the football, STOP BUSTING YOUR TESTICLES. I have had enough of spraying your balls with red medicine.

Amanda, I’d appreciate it if you could, you know, tell me when you’re upset and stuff. I get worried...

Michelle, we need to watch V for Vendetta, pronto.

And finally to myself, Tan J-E, FUCK YOU.

You’re a sorry loser. You’re an idiot. You’re slow and not sharp. You’re lazy and fucking playful. You’re packful of Sins. You need to CHILL. You need to learn to talk, to socialize, to crack open the shell and be outgoing. You need to be brave and shit and stuff. You need to know how to fucking express your fucking thoughts properly and just fucking say I LOVE YOU and have fucking confidence!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!

FUCK.

Huh.

At last. All my rage expressed and released. Up yours, TMJ.

My deepest apologies to anyone unfortunate enough to read this mindless and resentful ranting of a 19 year old, and sorry to everyone I managed to tick off. You can flame me or beat me up at college or whatever. Just let me return the favour. It helps with my anger management.

Goodnight, people.

April's Fool.


This is a short story i submitted to www.greatwriting.co.uk as part of their new "Lazy Writers" program, which provides a new topic per month as 'homework'. The topic this month is April's Fool. I only found out about this program today (having been deprived of my internet for 2 weeks), so i came up with a shoddy, cheesy and typical short story. Due to limited time i could only manage to finish half of it, so here's part 1 (part 2 will come shortly if the story gets an ok reception). Do comment, alright?


April’s Fool. -by Hafutota_no_JE


Matt, as many may put, was truly April’s Fool.

Born on the 1st of April, the amount of practical jokes he received surpasses his birthday wishes by 100 to 1. He wasn’t all too surprised, really. In the eyes of the teenage entities that revolves around him; his friends, classmates, enemies and cousins, an April’s Fool laughter is definitely more fun than greeting Happy Birthday. And in the teenage society that Matt revolves in, greeting Happy Birthday among guys is deemed “gay and pathetic.” In Matt’s society birthday greetings come in the form of free back-slaps, a cake to the face and stuffed in the pants, a bagful of flour on your body after being hailed by chicken eggs and toothpaste spread across your crotch.
Thus in Matt’s case, since he was born on the 1st of April, those greetings became relentless and cruel practical jokes. An ambushed onslaught of water balloons filled with drain water. A maniac bulldog belonging to the local junkyard set after him. An excellent workmanship of taking his bike apart and rearranging them so that it looks like junk-art. A widely published scandal that was posted on every notice board in school stating that Matt is recruiting members for a cult named The Brotherhood of the Toilet Bowl (in which 65 students turn up in order to worship the fictional Satan-Tahi). Good old times.

So now, sitting in a hole half-filled with a thick, brownish muck with a horrendous stench, Matt knew that he was once more a victim of mindless and insensitive youths that sought only to humiliate and shame others, so that they may be announced as cool and unruffled. The usual anger and resentment erupted within him, amplified and fueled by the typical roaring laughter that filled the air after a well executed joke. Tears of rage and humiliation fought to escape his tightly shut eyes as the laughter burn into his skull and mind, embedding a scorching a mark which Matt will one day refer back as a terrible memory. He was angry, loathing, fuming beyond his widest abhorrence while fighting back the hundred of questions floods into him whenever this occurred. Why? Why? Why? Why?

But Matt knew the rules of the game. He remembered the law of the day, the crossing line that one should tolerate just for today and today only. It was the 1st of April, his 15th birthday. And it was April’s Fool; he was the fool, as usual, and there’s no fool like an April’s Fool. There shouldn’t be an utter of anger sparked by an overdone joke; no outburst, no cursing, no physically impairing form of revenge. Just smile and accept the fact that you were fooled. Just grit your teeth and bear the pain of humiliation. Just pretend to laugh and act as though you deserve it. Abide the rules. Stand the pain. Survive the day, and tomorrow it’ll end. Just for a day. One day.

Matt blew away the muck accumulating on his lips, trying to brush it away from his eyes. The stench was intense, nausea building within him as his lips threatened to break apart in order to gulp the air without having to smell them. He didn’t dare think of the stuff his jokers mixed into the substance. The laughter went on, and through the curtain of muck he saw that the group gathered to observe his embarrassing demise was growing slowly. The hole was about 5 feet deep, halfway full with the damned muck and littered with broken twigs and leaves. Matt was covered from head to toe in it. The Yellow Man, he heard someone shouting. He must’ve looked pathetic. The intense and unforgiving feeling of pure shame settles in his stomach, and he felt like vomiting.

“APRIL’S FOOL!”

Laughter. Cynical, cruel, relentless, inhumane, evil, malicious. It pierced Matt’s heart like a stake of rusted nails. Cold and brutal.

Matt planted his hands into the muck and pushed himself up. His body felt heavy; heavy from the thick muck, heavy from the growing laughter, heavy from sadness dropped down his lungs. He was standing in the hole, trying to dislodge the stubborn muck. He felt worst than a fool. He felt like a corpse, left to rot in a barrage of hungry bacteria in a cold tomb where laugher echoes for eternity.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of there,” someone said. Above of Matt crouched Steve, the class bastard. “My God, Matt. You look like my grandfather’s crap!”

The crowd laughed harder. Someone was wheezing like an insane hyena. Matt felt his anger intensified, and for all his life he wanted to punch that entity crouched at his face, that entity that no doubt had set this joke up. And it was well executed, Matt thought, though he was abhorred the fact they had used Michelle to set him up. She had agreed to help, Matt lamented. My crush agreed to aid in humiliating my arse out of me. He remembered her asking to meet him beyond the field, and him walking towards her with a feeling of confusion and budding hope. Then the initial drop happened. The hole was well hidden under a perfectly constructed camouflage of twigs and leaves.

“C’mon. Take my hand,” Steve said, offering a hand. Matt wasted no moment to grab it. He wanted to get out quick and fast, then leave this torturous state. He couldn’t bear the laughter any more. But Matt should’ve known better. He really should.

The other hand let go. Matt was half-way from vaulting out of the hole when it happened. Oh dang.

The drop, the stumble, the splash. And then the laughter. Matt wanted to die.

“I’m sorry Matt,” Steve said smugly, wiping the muck on his hands with a tissue. “Muddy fingers, Matt. You can’t blame it on me, though.”
Everyone laughed again. Matt stood up, bracing the stabbing shards of the laughter. No one noticed the tears forming in his eyes.

Steve gingerly smelled his palms and made a disgusted look. “Matt! You smell like dung!”

Matt wanted to shout. To scream. To slaughter everyone there with a chainsaw. But there were rules to abide to. Rules of the day. So Matt, against all odds, forced a smile and looked at Steve. “You sure you smelling the right hand?”

The following laughter lifted Matt a bit, and he gingerly planted his hands to the edge of the hole and hauled himself out. The crowd backed away warily, avoiding the splattering muck. He brushed he muck off calmly, making it seem as though it was as normal as drying oneself after a bath. His entire body was brown, even his hair, and his denim blue jeans was barely recognizable. He heaved a sigh, and said cheerfully, “And if you all would excuse me after this excellently well executed joke, I intend to go home and change myself into a better attire so that you may all soil it with filth once again.”

And with that, he left the crowd and the hole, striding across the field towards his home. Tears mingled with the muck, rolling into miniscule brown streams down his cheeks. He stalked past his gate, but instead of heading off to the showers, he paced towards his backyard and threw himself under his mango tree. Nobody that walked past that old terrace house noticed the newly-turned 15 year old weeping silently under the shadows of the tree.

Matt couldn’t help it. The tears wouldn’t stop, the sharp breathing wouldn’t cease. Sorrow had completely deluged him, drowning him a never-ending swirl of bitter torment and suffocation. The questions came pelting into him, and he fought them off. They hurt terribly as he answers, because the answers brought him to realize the painful cause of his pitiful state. He found that he couldn’t blame. He couldn’t accuse. He was hopelessly lost in his own inflicted cause.

“The boy weeping under a tree,
In a day and time of glee!
Shameful, shameful oh he is,
Like a little girl he cries, tsk tsk!”

Matt started. He cast a nervous glance around. The backyard was deserted, save for him. Except for the tree, the backyard was empty, and hiding was impossible. Matt stood warily, and with a careful approach, took a peek at the other side of the trunk. No one was there. Odd, he thought. Was I dreaming?

“Oh, looking for me he is,
Not with that stupid head of his
Find me he shall not,
Not even if he calls for Tom Tim Tot!”

A rush of fear fell on Matt. The voice was high-pitched, inhuman, and it was coming from nowhere (apparently, to Matt’s eyes). He backed himself to the tree trunk, staring about in panic. What was that? “Who are you? Show yourself!” he shouted. And then he heard it again.

“Ah, brave this little boy may be,
Cowardice and stupor is what I see
Asking me to show myself, did he?
Wishes come wrong, though you get three.”

The voice let out a malicious cackle, sending every hair on Matt’s neck standing. He felt his feet weakening suddenly; the fear of facing an entity of enigma and unknown possibilities was too much for him to bear. Humans fear what they don’t know. Hold together, Matt. Hold yourself together. “Show yourself!”

“I sense persistence in his thoughts,
But see me still he shall naught,
But wait, I’m bored, so why not?
Beware what you ask for, boy, you may rot!”

Matt couldn’t believe his eyes. He couldn’t believe his own mind either.

And he wouldn’t believe in a million years he will be looking at the one, true April’s Fool.

Part 1 (end)

Finally….


How long has it been? I counted… 2 weeks since my internet breakdown and my last update. I missed blogging; it gives me a reason to type, something which is the next best possible form of expression and entertainment for me. For these weeks I’ve resorted to starting a personal journal in my laptop, which isn’t just as enjoyable as this is. Yes, I do get to type down more personal and private stuff (stuff about her, or complains about my bro that I don’t intend for him to hear :p), but don’t get feedback for it, and if you remember I once quoted that writers are writers when what they write are read, so the joy and fun of getting feedback regarding the stuff you write (bad or good) is part of the writer’s bliss.

So here I am now, finally posting one of my many useless, boring, repetitively mundane and dull-inducing posts (sorry my dear readers). Ah, I miss the fact that I can (yes, I can actually miss it) bore the socks outta people (unless you’re barefooted while reading this, or wearing sandals. In that case I bore your nails of your toes. Metaphorically).

2 weeks without the internet. Well… I’ve missed… 2 episodes of Bleach, 3 episodes of Mai-Otome, 3 episodes of Kage-kara Mamoru, 2 for Naruto… countless of info regarding the just-released Kingdom Hearts 2, my friend’s blog entries (Ju Ee, UPDATE. 2 weeks and I still read your goth thing. Lolz :P), Google and Yahoo when I needed them for assignment (I don’t think they’d help, though), the delight of chatting with your pals online and blogging, yes, let’s not forget that… and… yeah, I guess that’s all.

Yesterday morning, very early in the morning, I was struck with the largest revelation I believe I ever had while working on an assignment that robbed me of my sleep, and I went for the long-awaited badminton game between my college coursemates. Michelle, I owe your RM 3 or so, for the court bookings. I’ll make sure the guys pay, too.

Quite recently, I have a tendency to start writing songs (my previous post are songs, really, with LAME notes and LAMER lyrics. Sorry). Mild depression and sadness seems to be the cause (since the theme of these pathetic songs of mine is all the same). They do lift away the pain, mind. They do a whole damn lot of lifting pains.

Alright, gtg hit sack now. Having a translation exam tomorrow and I’m still unsure whether or not the theories are in the paper. I sure hope they don’t. I can’t remember Savory that well, nor do I understand him.
“You had a bad day,
You’re taking one down,
You sing a sad song just to turn it around.”

-Daniel Powder, “Bad Day.”-

She Won't see me.

I sit around the usual place,
At the corner in the train,
Wishing that these things would be,
A little more of what i dream

I just want to se eher smile,
Nothing more is worth that while,
Hug her when she's sad and down,
And joking when i see her frown

but

Why won't she see.....
Why won't she notice me....
Why won't she smile....
Nothing else is worth that while.

Take me away,
Take me away from my mistakes.
All i wish are things would be,
A little more of what i dream

but

Why won't she see.....
Why won't she see me.....

(cause i suck....)

All i want is just to say,
"I miss you every single day."
Hold her hand when we are close,
Cover her when she is cold.

Help her out with college work,
Laugh when she says i'm a jerk,
Stroke her hair when she's asleep,
Hold her gently as we kiss

But

Why won't she see....
Why won't she look at me...
Why won't she smile...
When i'm close around...

Take me away,
Take me away from my mistakes.
i know that we could never be,
At least, God, please notice me

but

Why won't she see....
Why won't she see me...

Day by day,
I look your way
And i hope
That someday
Just someday
You would say

"heys"
and smile....

And here i'm now, off this train,
Walking down this solemn rain
Wishing that these things would be
A little more of what i dream

but

She won't see....
She won't notice me
She won't see
And she will....oh she will (God no)...she will never...

love me....

Take me away,
Take me away from my mistakes.
Hug me when i'm sad and down
Kiss me when i wear a frown

But

She won't see.....
She won't see me.....
Cos she can't see....
Someone, oh someone

Like me......

(written by: Hafutota no JE)
15th March, 2006




I'm there, looking.

As i stand up on the stage,
I look on down and saw her face
She was there; she stroked her hair, she glanced up but didn't care.

The won't went cold,
I lost my soul
I'm drowning in a sea of coal

I lost my mind,
She wouldn't mind,
She'll never look even if i tried

No words,
No laugh,
Nothing really matters much.
No song,
Nothing's wrong,
Nothing will ever let her know

i'm there,
looking......

Now she went up on the stage,
She looked down, but not my face,
i was there, i couldn't bear, for all my life i spent to care

World went slow,
And then it snowed,
And i'm drowning in her cold.

she made me cry,
i lost my fight,
She'll never look even if i tried

No words,

No laugh,

Nothing really matters much,

No song,

Nothing's wrong,

But nothing would ever ler her know

i'm there,

looking....

kill me
Kill me,
rid me of my fantasies,

kill me
kill me
Just fucking kill me......

no words,
no laugh,
Nothing really matters much
no song,
nothing's wrong
But nothing would ever let me know

i'm there
looking......

(written by: hafutota no JE)
15th March, 2006


"One glance would mean a million bliss,
One smile would mean a million kiss."

Today, i'm nuts. So am i now.


I woke up to the familiar, serene hum of my aged air conditioner, breathing in its artificially cooled air. I sat up blurred and bleary, getting my bearings straight and recalling whatever that was forgotten in my slumber. Things didn’t seem right. I remembered setting my hand phone alarm to ring at 6 a.m., and sunlight was forcing its way through my blinds. My reached for my hand phone to see the time. 10.33 a.m. Cripes. I’m late for college.

Oh Damn, I must’ve turned the alarm off instead of snoozing it when it rang under my sleepy stupor.

I recalled sitting on my bed for a moment, remembering that I was supposed to meet Amanda for breakfast (I didn’t tell her I would, but I intended to) and that I had probably missed my first ever tutorial of the semester (and wasting one of the three days I could spare playing truant). All because I had killed off my alarm and went back to sleep like a freaking lazy-ass. Ah, what the heck. The world hasn’t end, I won’t be expelled from college and I have 6 weeks to ask Amanda for breakfast before semester ends. Plus I have a full day to look forward to. A full day spending time at home. Excellent, if not good.

So begins a usual routine of me watching some anime whilst dressing up, eating an unhealthy lunch while watching a movie with Kak Yun, pumped a good couple of hours on the ps2 and surfing the net mindlessly.

I even made an effort to type down my lecture notes into the laptop. OMG I’m typing my lecture notes into my laptop WILLINGLY. It’s a miracle O.O

My writer’s block remained plagued inside my joke of a mind (thus this meaningless, unnecessary post of random and useless things). I tried Amanda’s way of curing it, pushing away this laptop for a sheet of paper and with my Papermate Kilometrico MED Point ball pen held in my hand. 20 minutes later the sheet is full with whatever crap manga I could draw, the terrible sketches of evil grins and big anime eyes mocking my own stupidity. The sheet of paper found itself torched into ash on my lawn.

I got screwed for burning the paper. And now my dad thinks I’m pyro-psychotic. Great.

Sulking from the scold I stayed a little while on the lawn, staring into a starless sky and placing myself as mosquito fodder. I made a stroll to the dog cages and found it literally surrounded by a small number of slugs. No wonder the bougainvilleas were losing their leaves (maybe it’s another cause, but that moment all I could do was blame the slugs).

The slugs were cute, like snails without shells. Thinking of snails reminded me of Maple Story, and in Maple Story I slaughter snails for measly Mesos and snail shells. Too bad, slugs. You’re pests, and dad doesn’t like pests.

I massacred all the slugs that I could find, turning them into liquid entities of themselves with the fine salt I got off the kitchen (the very same salt I used for my omelet). May you all rest in peace, and reincarnate into something better than sliming invertebrates. Somehow I get the feeling that I will go to hell.

Scanning the net for soundtracks I somehow stupidly ignored the advice against visiting this particular site which is rumoured to infect random visitors with Trojan and spyware (should’ve listend to you guys at www.gamefaqs.com). The PC got a major jam/lag/slowdown breakdown, so I shut it down and restarted it only to enter a screen saying that my PC will be deleting virtual memory spaces. I restarted the PC (all the while muttering OMGWTH WAS THAT!!!1) and everything turned out ok after. 5 minutes later I was online looking for any free Adware and Spyware blocking softwares (or rather, brother did, but I looked for some after he slept. Better ones, that is. Found none though).

I cooked omelet for dinner tonight, trying to mimic those telur dadar that you can order from those tom yam stalls/restaurant. I fried some mixed vegetables (diced carrots, corns and peas) with garlic, oyster sauce and some soy sauce (and adding some corn starch later to thicken the broth). Then I fried the egg on dad’s brand new flat pan, making the most perfect omelet (no burns, no holes and not looking like sunflowers battered by raging bulls) I made in a long time on the large wok. Then I attempted to wrap the egg over the mixed vegetables. The end product is 16% similar to the telur dadar in looks, and 35% similar in taste. A good improvement over the -21% similarities my previous omelet did. Dad didn’t eat much of it, though. Or maybe he didn’t any of it at all. I wasn’t looking.

I’m currently mosquito fodder by my dining table as I type this. I guess I’m really worth calling JE. Maybe I’m diabetic; my blood can’t be all that tasty. Perhaps if I’m in a vampire movie, I’m one of those people who die first and most uneventfully. Maybe it’ll go like this:

JE: OMG it’s a giant bat that looks like Brad Pitt in Interview with the VAmpire! Where art thou my garlic? Oh, I ate them in dinner before my Clorects. Damn.

*cheesy horror music. A scream, crashes of furniture. 100 galleon of blood artistically splashed on the wall for a grim effect. The heroin comes in the room to find a lump of fats and skin. She screams. My name appears at the bottom part of the end credits.*

Random Token Black Guy: Man That Sh*t is Whack!

Homer Simpson: Operator! Give me the number for 911! (character and quote copyright of Fox and Matt Groening)

(Forgive my insanity, people. It’s the TV, I swear it’s the TV)

I have no classes tomorrow. And what do you know? Class today was canceled. Luck?

MUAAAHAHAHAHAHHA! MUAHAHAHAHHA! MUAHAH-HAHAH-HAGH! *COUGH* *SNORT* *DEAD*
(Sorry people. It happens when I have writer’s block. It’s the TV, I swear. And the rap music. Blame it on the media, people!)

The 1st day of the third Semester.


Wait, hang on, hang on. I’m still wondering which approach I should use for this post….

What approach should I use?


Maybe……

A cheerful approach?


Today was the first day of the third semester, and WOOOOOOOOT!!!! OMG ROTLMAO I’m finally going back to college! The holidays were BORING and gosh is it great to be finally going back to your friends (ALL YOU GREAT FRIENDS!). I followed mom to work so that I wouldn’t need to drive my car, and I could follow her back after. The weather in the morning was like WOAH, B-E-A-Utiful, excellently excellent, magnificently magnificent, superbly superb and utterly utterly utterly….erk…greatly GREAT. And I was like OMG look at the LOL pretty sun! We were caught in a little jam, which SUCKS! ALL YOU PEOPLE SHOULD TAKE TEH LRT! But what’s a little jam la, it’s Malaysia la HELLO! And we listened to Light and Easy FM and there was like this ‘Who wanna be a million-hair” sorta game, and the girl she had to take so LOOOOooooooonnng…… to figure out A.Conan Doyle. HAPA la. Malu-ation wei.


No, no no….too cheerful…

Perhaps……

Something more…..
Descriptive?

And as we approached my mother’s office a small gloom settled over the skies, but I was unperturbed. We had a small breakfast at a nearby stall; 2 small bowl of noodles, before entering mom’s office. There was something cozy about the warm smiles mom’s colleague tend to throw on me, and I smiled back with every courtesy that I have sense to realize of. Mom was as usual fussy about everything me, saying that I should’ve taken a bottle of water and nagging me for wearing a jacket in such a warm weather. I left the office soon, striding across the busy roads and through a small alley and pass the coffee shops that bore the sweet look of yester years of long. The LRT was thankfully less packed, and I stood in a comfortable place watching the scenery flit pass and observing the subtle shapes the sun’s shadow threw pass the windows. I was considerably too early for the meeting with my friends, so I stopped at KLCC station and sat at the almost empty platform to read the newspaper. A welcoming serenity was present, soothing in way yet too silent in another. Screeches from the LRT trams that roar pass would break the silence, and slowly it pieces back together to a complete image of calmness, before shattering again. I continued my journey 40 minutes later.

Sheesh! Too boring……

Wait….
There must be……
Another approach….

Third Person, perhaps?

The fat boy of Walrus was surprised to meet Diane in the tram, right after they were landing, and they were joined soon by a waiting Ju Ee and a traveling Pei Ling. Walking to the shopping mall he was glad and cheered by his friends’ conversations, something he had missed over the holidays, but nothing warmed his heart more than the fact that his friends were meeting up to celebrate his and Ju Ee’s birthday (which has come to pass), and raking his memories he realized that it has been a while since he actually celebrated his birthday (though with simple elegance) among his friends, and he is utterly grateful. They had a meal at Shakey’s Pizza, though the fat boy of Walrus ate little (he had had breakfast earlier). He was merry, and merrier as his friends entertain, and was smiling more than he had ever did for the past month.


Alright, alright, that was all too clichéd…..

Well….

Something unique, perhaps?
How about…..

Internet style?


T3ach3r wasn’t in for teh 1st klas, so we chtted the hours away. Mich3ll3 ws t3llin abt het trip to Cambodia, n we laugh3d lk MAD Lol.
We w3nt for d 2nd klas, n it ws rath3r bosan tho d new subj3ct is interesting enuff. Ws damn slippy tho, cn’t op3n my eyes. Aprntly I ned to buy 4 dicts, whch’ll cos me lots. D 1 at hom3 is too big, so mebbe I ned to git a nw one too. Darn new subj3cts.


………………………I’m getting a headache @-@.

Ah what the hell

I’ll just go with…..

FRENCH.

je suis désolé pour cette chose boiteuse, et j'espère que je peux offrir un meilleur écris mais maintenant je suis juste stupide plat. je vous souhaite tout le bonne nuit.

Random stuff.

Typing here now I’m almost too sleepy to keep my eyes open. Hitting the sack late last night after watching ‘Seven’ (the 1995 murder thriller starring Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt) and waking early to catch the Academy Awards I’m definitely having lack of sleep. Minami’s Piano Piece of Sena is blaring softly to my ears, soothing and calming. I’ll probably be sleeping soon, but of course not before I type a little something here.

It has grown on me, blogging. And now I have a tendency to sit up and type about whatever things I could think of, and the sensation of typing leisurely with the best of my music lulling the gloom and stress that could ever accumulate in a day is bliss. And then there were the comments, though they come in small sums, were always a delight. To know that your works, your sentences I and your words were somehow being read is a writer’s orgasm (I apologize for the way I put it, currently my mind is too tired to think of another analogy, or metaphor, or whatever).

The trouble is that I have grown to love typing so much I would still type despite having really nothing posting in this small, humble blog. I know, well, at least I was typing and those works do go to my ‘Written Works’ folder in my laptop here, but I’m running out of better things to type (hence this post and its title).

‘Crash,’ won the Oscar for best motion picture of the year. I was surprised; Brokeback Mountain was favoured to win (and the critics said so), but I couldn’t be more delighted that ‘Crash’ won. I had watched the movie and I love it, and it was possibly the best movie of 2005 that I could ever watch. I read in an article somewhere online that ‘Crash’ won due to a late surge of praise, thus winning over Brokeback by a small margin. A Cinderella story, perhaps?

College is restarting tomorrow; my third semester. Once more I’m a little nervous. How’re things going to be? How’re my friends, my coursemates? How much can someone change in a semester break? It’s silly, really. Sometimes my own idiocy amazes me. Perhaps, though, the fear of getting worse in every sense available is still instilled within me. I thought my new surge of confidence and self-esteem would’ve drowned these preposterous idiocies, yet somehow the doubts and uncertainties lingered.

But I know once I’m back in college all these stupid thoughts will go away, because my friends are forever great.

I’ve been sighing a lot these days, mostly at myself, sometimes at things that concerns me, and sometimes when things are seemingly going awry. I sighed when I had once more managed to “piss my brother off” for the 113 time, I sighed when I heard something the newspapers had probably covered up, I sighed when Howl’s Moving Castle lost to Wallace and Gromit in the Oscars (contending for best animated feature) and I sighed when it seemed like she hasn’t been reading my blogs lately.

Somehow, at the end of the semester break, my holidays seemed so short and uneventful. My trip to Bangkok made it seemed a little longer (yes, if you’ve noticed, the Bangkok trip is rather uneventful save the 3rd day). I wished the break would’ve been a little longer, another week perhaps (and it’ll give the college AMPLE TIME to revise my time-table, which stinks by the way and in my opinion of course).

Okay we’ve come to a point where I say that I’ve nothing to type about anymore, and subsequently I’ll be typing out my apologies and probably claim that the post above is lame. But I’m lazy and tired today from basketball and sleepiness, so I’m just gonna do this…..

No idea, me lame, sorry, goodnight people.

Sweet dreams to all (I’m feeling generous…)

An unnecessary movie review:

The Heirloom.


Alright guys, I’m bored and I ran out of ideas to post in order to sustain the life of this mediocre blog, so I’ve resorted to cheap and pathetic movie reviews in order to give this little site a spice (a bitter and tasteless spice, that is).

Well, this review is sorta based on my opinions (as most reviews do, and normally bad ones) and how much I manage to perceive out of a movie (I’ve no education and knowledge about movies and the art of it), so if I happen to type down something that you didn’t feel right or fair, just drop in a comment, ok? And please try not to flame me, not that I can’t blame you for it (and its good comment for me, considerate flaming) but avoid insulting me or my cows or anyone related to me by friendship, blood or ownership while you’re at it.

Before I indulge you with total nonsense do note that I rate my movie rather similarly to the format Yahoo! Movie does, and it goes like this:

A+ ~ Miss this movie and you DIE!
A ~ It OWNS, baby, it OWNS.
A- ~ Closest you can get to ^^
B+ ~ Memorably Memorable.
B ~ Good, worth your money and attention
B- ~ Fair, but still worth your watch
C+ ~ Ouch! But it has its moments….
C ~ C for Crap.
C- ~ Slightly worse than crap.
D+ ~ Dreadful, as Simon Cowell may put it.
D ~ You DIE watching this….seriously
D- ~ Someone murder director/producers/actors/anyone in it.
F ~OMFG HOLYSH*T@#$%&*^#@$!!!!!!!!!11

*ahem*, now to the actual review….

The Heirloom.


Language: Mandarin
Classification: U
Running Time: 1 Hour 36 Minutes
Director: Leste Chen
Cast: Terri Kwan, Jason Chang, Chang Yu-Chen, Tender Huang.
Official Site: www.heirloom-movie.com
Trailer: www.heirloom-movie.com

Asian horror, the new topping on the horror movie genre that’s now so thick and cheesy sometimes you wonder if anyone should really make another one. But hey, why not? I mean, the Americans are at it now, and even Singapore had a poke at it (with the surprisingly well made ‘The Maid,’ but that’s another review). So now Taipei is having a stab-shot at it, with the release of The Heirloom.

The Heirloom starts off with a description of something called a ‘Ghost Child,’ spirits denied reincarnation forcefully by humans who wish to master over it and gain fortune by its power, and to obtain a ‘Ghost Child’ one needs to extract a human fetus and feed its angry spirit with human blood. Sounds familiar? Well people this is instruction 101 in obtaining your very own Toyol, so copy and paste the instructions above if you wish to have a demonic baby go and steal your stingy aunt’s money (serves her right for the 50cent ang pow…) or anyone’s else if it matters.

Fast forward the description and you’re treated with a tale of an entire wealthy family hung to death, at the same time, in their very own mansion O.O. 20 years later, James, a descendant of the unfortunate family inherits the mansion. Being an architect he admired its olden architecture and decided to keep it, despite the fact that the government cultural ministry would love to get a hand on it. So he moves in with his fiancé, a professional dance performer and celebrate the move-in with their 2 best friends in the mansion. As you predicted it, strange things happen and pretty soon things got ghastly.

All the necessity of a typical Asian horror film is present here; a creepy house, a dark back-story, nerve-wrecking ambience and those darn creaking sounds. The mansion and its ambience are well made and it set the mood pretty well. But sadly, if I can point the good things in this movie, this is the only stuff you’ll probably find worth your time.

The Heirloom suffers from a confusing plotline with enough unfilled plotholes to get yelling a, “HUH??!!” O.O as the end-credits appears. You’ll be treated with dozens of things doesn’t make sense and are left unexplained. The characters too, sadly, are not developed. It’s hard to actually care for the main characters when so little of them is unexplored, even the love between James and his fiancé is somewhat 2D and their friends felt like characters thrown in for the sake of showing that our main characters are not nerdy anti-socials.

The actors did their job, at least, though not to say the best offered around. It’s disappointing to see that the good premise of the story; the hangings of the family, were dragged down by a poor execution and a weak plot. If you’re looking for a good scare, at least, and ignore a flimsy plot, you’re better off watching a tale of a pair of red shoes. At least you get some cheap scares. This movie offers nothing more than a good, fresher premise and some pretty good ambience.

Rating: C (mediocre)

Pros: An interesting premise; good ambience; some creepy moments; instructions to Make-your-own Toyol!

Con: Weak and torn plot; undeveloped characters; what, no scares?; downright confusing; been there done that asian horror.

aujourd'hui est beau



Today is a beautiful day. The weather was cloudless, the winds soothing and sun a warm comfort (a little too warm, perhaps, but the morning was fine). I was unusually spirited, cast away from the typical morbid, stale mornings some days may offer. So spirited was I, the heavy feeling that clouded my head was left ignored. Today is a beautiful day, because today is today as it is; just today.

Sometimes I wonder if I should, really, share today’s joy with everyone. But to share means that I’ll be proclaiming today to every friend and every family member, and for most occasions I prefer today to be quiet and simple (most unlike several other people). Still to share a joy brings forth larger joy to yourself, so I can’t help but feel a little (a very tiny little) disappointed that today is just as simple and quiet as I wish it to be.

I knew I had to be content with the path I chose to live today, but then the magic waned. Somehow the brightness and cheer of today died quickly under the raging sun. The heavy feeling on my head settled throughout the day, a hamper to my thoughts and the little happiness I wish to procure. I had stood under the sun awaiting my car to be fixed (or upgraded, more like). Though I enjoyed the foreman’s company, the heat and the turmoil boiling in my head was overwhelming, so at times I felt drifted off and blanked. Getting a new game (Shin Onimusha: Dawn of Dreams) didn’t help either, and a pathetically preposterous Chinese comedy couldn’t light up the cheer that was.

The day was fading into the dull and boring routine I always go through, and I chose it to be like this,

We live through our days the way we make it, whether cheer or gloom, but things never really do go the way you wish it to be. At times like this we embrace it with strength and love, bearing the pain its spike may cause. But today is a beautiful day, because it is today as it is today, shouldn’t things turn out better at least?

Luck or fate, chance or choice, I can’t change the day as it turned out to be. So I had to embrace it and bear its pain, but I just can’t help but feel unfair (in a small scale) and disappointed.

I hope that a couple of panadols can clear off this slight fever by tomorrow, because tomorrow I commemorate today with a lunch with my family.

Irony can be painful at times.

But just before I thought it would end bad, just before I thought today would become of those times you look back and wonder its irony, mom came home with a cake.

And they sang Happy Birthday above a small little cake of hope and love.

Thanks, everyone. Today couldn’t have been more beautiful.

But I’d like to wish it myself, as I always do every year. Happy Birthday, J-E.

Back from Bangkok.

Ah, well, finally I get to go somewhere in Thailand which is not the boring and staling streets of Hadyai (I hope I got the spelling right). The trip there was quite an unplanned one (for me, that is); I only got invited along 4 days before the departure, so I had to renew my passport in 2 days and cancel a movie with Amanda (I’m still so sorry, hope I can make it up).

My 4th and 5th aunts, their husbands, my grandparents and my cousins went, and I have to thank the fact that my cousins were there or not I would’ve silently rot in my hotel room reeking of boredom. The sad, unfortunate thing about this trip was that it was basically a shopping trip (DAMN!), so the sight-seeing is kept at a bare minimum. But well, the trip was worth it, and it had some great moments. I just hope that next time I get to go I get to see more than just the modernized culture of the city folk, but also the beautiful and fascinating traditional cultures (of which I only get a glimpse of).

We flew there last Friday (Air Asia, budget is tight :P) and was back on Monday. I had spent a sleepless night at my 4th aunt’s house (the air-cond there, in my cousin’s room, can be ruthlessly cold) and we took a 7 something flight there (I was too sleepy to tell the time). The flight was… cramped (I know it’s a budget airline, but they could make the seats slightly wider apart), and I was kinda separated from my cousins, sitting in between my 4th aunt (who looked deranged from the lack of sleep O.O, no offense) and a stranger uncle who stole my armrest (so I had to steal my aunt’s instead, sorry).

We arrived there at 9 something (once again, was too sleepy), and we rented a mini-bus to get us to the hotel. And that was when we get our sight of Bangkok city.

Arrived at our hotel after a while (which was aptly named Asian Hotel), unpacked and head of for our first meal at there, which was chicken rice (I was crooning silently, we get better chicken rice here T-T). And just soon after, the shopping began.

We went to Ma Bu Keong (or something like that, I dunno how to spell it but I know it’s MBK, so I’ll refer to it as that from now on), which I was told is the KLCC shopping centre for Bangkok. I was surprised, I admit. It was not the traditional, more cultural Thailand I expected (and hoped) to find. The mall is impressively large (not Mid Valley large but large enough), and full to the brim from regular shopping stuff to souvenir shops that amounts to the dozens. Most of us quickly head off to their shopping. I was more interested with the things and people that I find there.

Shopping lasted LONG. Hours, I lost touch, and we couldn’t really be separated because not everyone got to use the cell phone there. Anyway I had a great bite at a satay looking food which is good, authentically excellent (I ate to a total of 12 or more stakes, the price is not quite low). We had dinner at a small restaurant near the hotel, and the food was OK but disappointing. Not to worry though, we had a great supper of soup noodles and fried oysters (which I learnt is call Hoi Tord there) and steamed peanuts. End of day 1.
Day 2 was, well, more hours spent shopping (some of my relatives should know that there are more fascinating things than 99 baht t-shirts). We did go to another shopping centre (I dunno the name, but it is close to MBK) but only for a while. At least this time we got more freedom, me and my cousin Aaron, and we explored the higher parts of MBK. We even got to have a game of Counter-Strike with the Thais (they’re good, but all playing the same style of De-eagle and AWP snipers), and went to the arcades for a while, and not to forget the goofy pics we took at the picture parlour.

Though I do not really love it, I did do some shopping. I got myself a pair of shoes for 400 baht (I think it’s a good bargain), got 2 t-shirts (99 baht each, that’s like RM9.90), got some souvenirs and treated myself to a jacket I fell in love with (I’m not really prone to loving clothes on sale, this is a rarity) which cost me 1300 baht and money chipped of my ang pow savings.

Oh, I’ll like to note that the Cineplex in MBK ROCKS! There are no qualms about controversy and cencorship there, and they were having movies like Brokeback Mountain being screened. I can live there, seriously, just for that.

Dinner at day 2 was unique; me and my 2 cousins (Aaron and Vince) ate at the Brazilian cuisine restaurant at the hotel (my 4th uncle asks that I accompany them while he and the rest ate somewhere else). It was a buffet, in which the waiters have to (I pity them) carry cooked meat on swords to us upon request. By God I was stuffed like mad, but I’d actually rather eat authentic Thai food. Still, I get to eat this expensive stuff, so no complains JE, be content.

Day 3 was the GRANDADDY of trip. I, Aaron and my 5th aunt and uncle went to the floating markets of Chao Phraya River. We followed a small tour there, and sat in a van with Japanese tourists for 2 hours or so. We got to one part of a river, and took a motor boat to the market. It’s smaller than I thought it is, but interesting and fascinatingly beautiful all the same. They have rows of shops built on the river there, with several people rowing around on boats selling fruits and food. We paid a personal to row us about the market, bought a few stuff (it was pricy there, but we can actually bargain the price to half of it) and even ate noodles on board.

By the time we got back to the quay the market was horrendously crowded with boats, and we were stuck at many points in which we had to pull away from other boats and dodge tight situations. It was exhilarating, really, and I was all hyped up and snapped pictures till my camera battery died (despite fully charged).

The tour later took us to a cobra show performance thing, and we paid 200 each baht to get in. I was expecting a regular, snake exhibition cum cheap performance, but the show was good. The performers work with venomous, piss-off snakes that lunged at them and the performers dodge in intense and exciting methods. Sad for the snakes though, they had to work like this for a long long time. And someone needed to tell the commentator that he’s stuffed-crust pizza cheesy.

We skipped an elephant trekking side-tour and headed back for the city, stopping at MBK. There the usual shopping ensued and I was wondering amount aimlessly and stopped by the arcades for a moment (imagine that, I went all the way to Bangkok and spent half my time playing Daytona USA).

We didn’t return to the hotel until after dinner, which was at a street side hawker stall eating a rather good pot Tom Yam, teriyaki meat and fish. All in all, BEST DINNER THERE. We went for a little loiter around the streets eating some snacks and bought some food back to the hotel for a little get-together (which was short). I went for a hearty dip into the bathtub of warm water before sleeping :P

Day 4, departure day, I woke early to accompany my cousin sis to MBK (she wanted a last minute purchase of a wallet) but me and Aaron got sidetracked to a noodle stall with the best noodles around (and only costing 10 baht, which is RM1, per bowl). Had a short go around MBK for some final souvenirs, and we left for the airport around noon.

Trip back was at least better, though we had to hoist a ridiculously large amount of baggage and items (all of them not even mine, and you should’ve seen the amount of baggage increased after the trip). We got separated, and I fell asleep half the journey home.

The trip ended with me returning home after a small dinner at my 4th aunt’s before brother fetching me back. I got unpacked, took a rest, and slept till the afternoon the next day.

Not the best of all vacations, but certainly something memorable enough (thanks to day 3). Next time I go, it had better not be a shopping trip, and I want to see river Kwai (and the other stuff).

Sorry for the poor account of my trip, but I wanted to keep it short (it’s severely shortened, this one) and brisk. Anyhow, thanks for reading.

Goodnight :P.

Doing so.....


The person sat staring at his portable computer’s screen, contemplating his choices. A frown slowly creases at his face as exasperation sets in. He was annoyed and feeling foolish. The choices were set, and all he had to do was choose. Choose the best choice that fit, or the choice that seemed (or at least felt) like the right one. His fingers twitched at the keyboard, himself eager to type but not knowing what to type. The decision had not been made, and he was beginning to feel more idiotic. He sighed, cracking his knuckles as he settled himself straighter on the stool.

An exhausting yawn left his mouth, and he stretched his hands. He was getting sleepy as tiredness seeped into his eyelids, threatening them to shut and willing him to dream. He blinked, massaging his temple (which somehow gave him an even larger urge to close his eyes and doze away the night) as he once more glared into the screen with half closed eyes. A decision had to be made, soon, before he loses his vigour and determination to submit something that night. He was lost for a while, his mind caught in a soft swirl of thoughts and memories as he pondered for a moment; why did he even bother to place himself under such a dire, perturbing situation for something that basically didn’t even require him to do so? A bespectacled girl appeared before his mind, and he saw himself smiling to those great comments his friends have left him. Something warm grew in his stomach, and he smiled. He cocked his head to the side so that it cricked, placing his fingers tenderly on the keyboard and began to type as an idea (a lame and pathetic one, but better than none) bloomed slowly in his head. He typed:

The person sat staring at his portable computer’s screen, contemplating his choices. A frown slowly creases at his face as exasperation sets in. He was annoyed and feeling foolish. The choices were set, and all he had to do was choose. Choose the best choice that fit, or the choice that seemed (or at least felt) like the right one. His fingers twitched at the keyboard, himself eager to type but not knowing what to type. The decision had not been made, and he was beginning to feel more idiotic. He sighed, cracking his knuckles as he settled himself straighter on the stool.

An exhausting yawn left his mouth, and he stretched his hands. He was getting sleepy as tiredness seeped into his eyelids, threatening them to shut and willing him to dream. He blinked, massaging his temple (which somehow gave him an even larger urge to close his eyes and doze away the night) as he once more glared into the screen with half closed eyes. A decision had to be made, soon, before he loses his vigour and determination to submit something that night. He was lost for a while, his mind caught in a soft swirl of thoughts and memories as he pondered for a moment; why did he even bother to place himself under such a dire, perturbing situation for something that basically didn’t even require him to do so? A bespectacled girl appeared before his mind, and he saw himself smiling to those great comments his friends have left him. Something warm grew in his stomach, and he smiled. He cocked his head to the side so that it cricked, placing his fingers tenderly on the keyboard and began to type as an idea (a lame and pathetic one, but better than none) bloomed slowly in his head.

He was finally finished, feeling both foolish and contempt. A soft smile coursed across his face as he uploaded the digital document into his pen-drive, and he began to wonder if he had made the utmost preposterous attempt to entertain his friends. It was already late, and the laziness that he kept at bay 20 minutes ago were slowly creeping back to lull him into sleep.

He uploaded the document into his personal computer, accessed the internet and pasted the document into an empty space under the window “New post.” He made a few adjustments to his document, editing away whatever errors he could find under his increasing drowsiness. Satisfied, he directed the mouse pointer to highlight a “Publish Post” icon, and clicked. Making sure that the post has successfully been made, he closed his blog window, shut down the computer and went to bed, pleased but feeling ridiculous.


He was finally finished, feeling both foolish and contempt. A soft smile coursed across his face as he uploaded the digital document into his pen-drive, and he began to wonder if he had made the utmost preposterous attempt to entertain his friends. It was already late, and the laziness that he kept at bay 20 minutes ago were slowly creeping back to lull him into sleep.

He uploaded the document into his personal computer, accessed the internet and pasted the document into an empty space under the window “New post.” He made a few adjustments to his document, editing away whatever errors he could find under his increasing drowsiness. Satisfied, he directed the mouse pointer to highlight a “Publish Post” icon, and clicked. Making sure that the post has successfully been made, he closed his blog window, shut down the computer and went to bed, pleased but feeling ridiculous.

The Arch beyond the Desert.

The sun, blazing at its zenith scorched the land along with the back of my neck, creating this intense feeling of unease. It was so hot the images within my view shimmered and swayed, and I was reminded of the great desert of the Sahara. Funny, though. Grandma’s house is never really this overwhelmingly hot. It must have something to do with the barren stretch of sand I could see as I approached her gate. It was weird, bizarre perhaps, but I didn’t allow it to in my mind. Important things were at hand, and I should worry about things that I grasp first and foremost. The strange rock that formed a V arch at the horizon was nothing of my concern. Not yet.

I followed dad into grandma’s house, immediately sensing the foreboding shadow that was over my relatives. The cheer that usually enveloped my fifth aunt was missing, perhaps obscured by the dark gloom that shows within her eyes. Her newly-wed husband was not here, though I had the notion of where he is. My grandparents and my sixth aunt were sitting at the dining table full of grim, and I could see the anxiety and apprehension that was carved to their faces. The wise-cracking Raymond, my sixth aunt’s lover, sat darkly at the corner of the dining room, deep in thought. He raised his head as I entered the room, acknowledging my father with a nod of respect before returning to his thoughts. Even my cousins; Jessica, Chee Zhen and Vince were there, the three siblings standing behind my grandparents. Mom was there too, sitting by the table, and she stood to embrace my father. We all sat by the table, and dad spread a blueprint across the rectangular table. Raymond diverted his attention to us. The meeting was starting, and I don’t know fishes about what was going on.

“The infiltration at Petaling Jaya was a success,” Dad began, addressing everyone with his stern gaze. “My sister and her family have discovered that the enemy is secretly giving instructions from three separate locations; Seremban, Batu 11 and Serdang. And Tjun (I raised my head at the mention of my brother) that has managed access to ATC Kemayan, and is now sending vital information of what the enemy is planning. It seems that the enemy has constructed a base beyond the desert arch, and is possibly developing something that may danger us and our nation.”

I was somewhat flabbergasted, yet calm and accepting all the same. The whole scenario seemed preposterous, outrageous even, and yet it seemed all so true. But I’m not so ready to believe it either. The kitchen was numbingly hot.

Dad went on, pointing at various illustrations on the blueprint, “Our current plan is this; we need to station some of our people in all this three locations, and also place someone to infiltrate the arch beyond the desert. Uncle Fook is currently heading towards Serdang upon completing his assignment at Ipoh, so we need three volunteers; two for station at the remaining locations and one to gain access to the arch beyond the desert.”

“I’ll take Seremban. I have contacts there that could be of help,” Raymond said, standing up. “But I’ll need Chee Zhen to help me.” He strode away and out of the house, Chee Zhen following him. Dad heaved a sigh as grandma gave my sixth aunt a reassuring pat.
“We need another two volunteers.”

“I’ll go to the arch,” I found myself saying, bewildered at my own actions. I, the one who screws up everything and anything that has been entrusted to me, am volunteering to the infiltrate a base in the middle of a desert that has miraculously appeared at the side of my grandmother’s house. It sounded surreal, and yet so real. I was oddly calm, as though this had been my goal, my main obligation as long as I breathe or live. But I remembered the strong determination that was burning in my chest, and I was suddenly brave and confident. A couple of moments later I had hoisted a large backpack full with things that I know nothing of, checking sure of the 5 water canteens I have around my belt, and then setting off into the desert towards the mysterious but magnificent arch that shivered beyond the wavering air.

I trudged long (or so it seems) and far, constantly glancing back at my grandmother’s house that was slowly devoured by the sand dunes that I traversed across. The backpack was surprisingly light, but I was thirsty soon enough as tiredness seeped into my legs. My main concern was water, which suddenly, despite 5 canteens, seemed such a small supply. I waded the sand and braced the strong winds for many hours (or so it seemed) until the sands suddenly turn tarred road, and I was advancing into a town reminiscent of Kajang Town. It was desolate, empty and in ruins. I was stunned, perplexed by this sight. Someone was calling me in a distant, sounding familiar, and then my sight got distorted. My view swirled, blurring, and then focusing back to normal. I was on the ground, trying to rise, trying to stand, but somehow I kept stumbling down. Something slapped into my face, something soft but thrust hard. I grunted, and turned in my bed. The voice kept telling me to wake, and that it was soon 10.30. I opened my eyes, trying to comprehend the insanity that has befallen upon me. What’s going on?

I sat up and stared blearily. My brother was uttering something about eating breakfast and then left the room. I yawned, trying to make sense of all that was happening. But it was obvious, isn’t it. I was fucking dreaming. Damn.

(This is a vivid example to show that the author of this blog is desperately running out of ideas to post, and has resulted to publishing cheap and lackluster stories of his pathetic and downright ridiculous dreams in attempt to entertain the folks unfortunate enough to read this.)

*the events in this story are a 98% true retelling of a dream, the extra 2% irrepressible exaggeration.*

*characters are real, not copyrighted and name used without consent >.<*

Here again...with nothing to offer.

Hmm, apparently, once more, i've been neglecting my blog >.<. My apologies (no one reads this, should i really apologise?), i'll make it more consistant later on.

Well, the truth is that i'm lacking anything to blog. Diane told me that i can blog about anything, absolutely anything, but somehow i couldn't really think of anything to post, so i had it laid off for a while. Plus, i'm rather addicted to Maple Story, the MMORPG many defined as the Online Mario game (or something in similiarity), which means that i'm constantly under an illusion that i should spend the better of my online time whacking snails and gigantic mushrooms (and also those one-eyes, walking tree stumps. They creep me out for some reason >.<)

My semester break is here, and as usual i find myself slothing at home playing video games or watching DVDs and stuffing myself with all the snacks that survived the Chinese New Year onslaught. The reason why i'm not out, chilling with my pals? I spent all my CNY ang pow money in my ice-skating trip at the beginning of the holidays >.<. I don't even have enough to grab myself a new game (i'm dying to get Tales of Legendia), so i'm stuck with Resident Evil 4 which i don't have the motivation to complete (actually, i don't have the guts to, the damn game is scaring my intestines outta me every moment).

Everyday is a routine, once again. I wake up close to the afternoon, eat my lunch (home cooked fried rice or 'mee kosong' , i dun have the money to get myself the forever excellent fishball noodles at town), watch a movie or ps2 or maple story into the evening, maybe play some badminton or change the bird's water. Watch Friends by dinnertime, and either spend my night mindlessly typing on my laptop or surf the net until midnight in which i will indulge myself into maple story well into 3 a.m or so, then sleep. Then wake up, then repeat the day in the same manner. I'm missing college....

I'm getting a lot of urge to write something, preferably a story, but i can't seem to come up with one that's well planned and not horribly fragmented. And i just joined a writing community, so i ought to publish something online soon. Ideas of stories all trail back to those sick and morbid stuff i tend to suddenly revert to, which i didn't want to crowd my written works (i like to be flexible, but can never be one well enough).

Speaking of writing, one day while contemplating my stories a stageplay popped into my head. I'm planning out the playwright, so hopefully i can write out a lil drama/play.

But what am i kidding? it'll prolly be crap anyways....ugh. but heys, if it happens, i'll post a lil sumthing of it here so i can get some comments.

mm..running out of things to blog now. I guess my title didn't disappoint, hehehehe.

Goodnight people. Sweet dreams.

Alright....This will be a long post, so it's boredom guaranteed and sleepiness inducing.

I'll start of with....

I've been tagged....By Diane Lee (>.<)

So...Rule 1: List 5 weird or random things about yourself.

1: I HATE spring onions.

Order a bowl of soup-noodles, and what do you get? A whole bowl garnished with the green epileptic poison called spring onions. People love it; it brings out a nice aroma and taste (which I agree) and even better fried. To be frank, I don't mind EATING it. In fact, I've learnt to eat it when necessary. But whenever I see it FLOATING serenely on my soup or jumbled up in my plate of fried noodles, I lose all my appetite. It's a phobia or something, it has to be.....

2: I'm slightly insomniac.

It happens rarely now, but at times I couldn't sleep at all. It happens sometimes even when I'm dreadfully exhausted or without anything to worry/ponder upon. When it happens I'll spend the night hoping to read myself to sleep or lie down and plan the storyline for the novels I intend to write. Most times I find myself asleep many hours later (or at daybreak), but there are several occurrences in which I abandon all hopes to sleep and rise up to a cup of instant coffee.....and hope I can survive through the day.

3: I draw when I'm in a classroom/lecture/study/boring situation.

It's this little epidemic sickness of mine to fill up any space I can draw onto with whatever drawings I can manage whenever I'm bored but unable to do anything else. I'll draw them on empty papers, exercise books, corners of my text books, the desks and on the hands of anybody bored enough to allow me to do so. The drawing ranges from stickmen to manga eyes/faces/characters to full-fledge comics complete with dialogs and a story.

4: I laugh whenever someone massages on my muscle aches or rubbing my bruises.

I don't know why, it must be connected to my laughing nerves or something, but whenever my mom goes through rubbing my bruises with medicine oil or my dad applying his Thai-style massage on my muscle aches, I crack into a painful, jittery laughter which is mixed with the normal yell of pains. Sometimes I laugh so much it seems like I went into an insane fit, and my ribs will hurt more than my bruise/ache.

5: I cannot bear buying clothes/shoes that worth more than rm100.

I don't now why, even for clothes/shoes that I really like. Maybe it's because I fell that it's not so worth it, or maybe it's because I prefer the money for something else (books, movies, games), but I can never have the notion to buy them even when I have the cash. But I still buy them, of course. How else do I get my clothes that I wear out?


Rule no.2: 5 people whom I want to do the quiz.....

1: Amanda Lee
2: Ng Ju Ee
3: My cousin Jessica
4: My pal Jansen Loke, if he blogs
5: Another pal of mine, Bryan Cheong.

Rule 3: Next, leave a comment "you are tagged" on their blog and ask them to read your blog for rules.



Gliding on ice.

Yesterday was like a dream, or if possible, anything beyond a dream ( a good dream, that is, not those with bizarre occurrences).

For the first time in my life, I was ice-skating.

Ice -skating, as in skating gracefully (not in my case) across a stretch of ice on shoes with a metal blade made underneath. Ice-skating, as in experiencing the painful tribulations of slipping and falling on solid, frozen water. Ice-skating, as in feeling the sensation of gliding on air through a blissful emptiness. Ice-skating, as in having the painful wounds from the falls and grabbing-the-walls-for-dear-life.

Yesterday I went off with Amanda, Michelle and Diane on a first-time public transport trip to Sunway Pyramid (the shopping mall). We took the KTM trains to Subang Jaya and took a bus there. I haven't been to Sunway Pyramid in a long, long time since my first visit, and I greeted the sight of the gigantic lion head (a close replica of the sphinx) set at the main entrance of the mall with anxiety and worry. We were planning to ice-skate, and I haven't done that in my life.

Despite myself being regarded as a walrus (thanks, brother), I've never been on the ice before. There's no winter here in Malaysia (obviously), thus no frozen lakes to slide onto. Ice rinks are scarce; there's barely one anywhere, and the only one available within the vicinity of Selangor is at Sunway, and Sunway is far from where I am. I was afraid to ice-skate. I was afraid to make a fool out of myself in front of the girls. I was afraid I'm going to fall like a mad cow on a slope in the Himalayas. And I kept remembering my pals from Kajang, who years back went ice-skating quite frequently, telling stories of painful falls and embarassing moments. I was basically terrified at the sight of the ice rink, and looking the people skating across it with grace and beauty, though I wasn't gonna show it in front of the ladies (hehehehe... :P).

So we had our lunch at KFC and went to the rink sometime after and paid for our admission and gloves. The skate shoes were provided as part of the admission fee (which I still think is very generous of the mall administration), so we went to grab ourselves a pair each. By GOD the shoes were TIGHT. Hermit-crab shell TIGHT! My legs were stiff when I finally got them in with difficulty. And then there's the weird moment of walking on land with it. I was fumbling like a buffallo on stilts.

Then came the moment I stepped on the ice.

I slipped. It was the first thing that happened, and I clinged to the rink-walls desperately. It was hell more slippery than I thought, and when I tried to walk forward I couldn't. My legs fell into awkward positions and my legs hurt more than ever (and numbed by the ice, thankfully). Seeing that most of the beginner skaters were soon crowding the wall behind me, I had no choice but to drag myself across the rink. It was hands down the worst experience ever, that very day, when I had to pull myself across the perimeter of the circular rink and slipping madly. It was halfway through when I realised I had to tie my shoes tighter and more properly, because perfect alignment is needed. So managed through the rink and came off sweating (yes, sweating on ice) and more exhausted than playing three rounds of badminton. But I wasn't ready to give up, not yet, not after paying rm 18 for admission and lousy gloves. I waited for the girls to return (they all managed, with seemingly painful ordeals), tied the shoes tighter and properly, and set off again.

I forgot how many rounds I went through sticking to the walls, occasionally pulling myself forward and letting me glide for a while before clinging to the walls again. Beginner skaters like me who fear the falls were making things slow and hard, as they just stick to the walls and refused to move. Later on I realised that the spikes (or saws, as Amanda puts em) at the front part of the metal blade at the shoes, can be used to pull forwards and dispersing most of the slipperi-ness (is it correct?). So slowly I experimented moving by using the spikes to pull forward while the other foot glides, and I was able to move without completely depending on the walls. Later on I gained some courage and tried away from the walls, and I learnt that there's a rythym in pulling and gliding forwards, so I tried it and managed to skate a little soon after (yay!). 6 hours later, after many trials and painful falls and accidents, I was able to skate. I'm still frequently losing balance and all, but I know how to push forwards and glide a little in an average speed. By the end of the day I could do some laps without totally relying on the walls (I'm sorry for bragging, but I have to say I'm a little proud :) ).

The falls, yes, there was the falls. It happens normally when I made the wrong balance, or digging the spikes too suddenly, or sometimes going off in a direction that throws me in a couple of uncontrolled spins. I fell, like, 7 to 9 times, I guess, mostly on my knees and sometimes on the bum (which hurts considerably less, thanks to my fats). Once I collided with another skater (who couldn't change directions like I was), thankfully on a slow speed, so we ended up in an awkward hug before pushing apart after some friendly pats on the back (sorry dude, hehe :P ). One embarassing moment was when I fell, slided across the ice and accidently brought a girl down with me by knocking her knees (luckily not very forcefully). Got myself a bruise on my left knee after the falls >.<.

But still the great sensation of gliding across the ice was unlike any other bliss, and after skating it felt as though walking is crude and forceful. There was a certain beauty in it, the peace grace when I at times I experience. Ice-skating is more than fun; ice-skating is bliss in another sense, in another level.

At the end of the day it was all fun and joy. the girls did well, though they still stuck to the walls a bit. But they were very much better than the other girls I see who couldn't learn despite having an instructor. I was around the rink (haughtily) checking out on the girls and helping Amanda a little.

The downside of ice-skating, however, is the after-effects. I woke up today in a bout of pain and aches, worse than that time when I played badminton for 6 hours. The girls had their share of bruises and blisters too, bless them. I hope they're alright, and better off than me. Currently I'm suffering from :

1) Muscle aches on my upper thighs
2)stiff feet
3)My bruise on the knee
4)Aches all over my hands, and a possible muscle injury on my right arm (which strangely hurt like hell as though it tore or something).
5)My Mom massaging the aches and rubbing on my bruise with medicine oil (something which I think she delights on).

The girls are talking of a next trip there. You bet I'm on it.

Oh wow, this is the longest post I ever did, so I apologise for the length. I guess I got carried away....hehe. I'll end this here now, my aches are getting stiffer by the minute. goodnight all.

It's time for me to change.

I've been living a life of the past. To be honest, as I stare back now into the times yester years, I discovered changes that were barely changes at all, and also changes that somehow altered myself to the worst of things. I glance back and realized that for 19 years I've basically lived the same as I had. Carefree, relaxed, a life which I'm content to be just within the comfort of my own zone. I've been taking things lightly, seeing things happily and let things come as they come, and come what may. I've been travelling down a stream and allowing the currents to just bring me as it flows, hoping that I will not strike a rock or obstacle. Easily put, I've been living a life I've lived all my life. And it wasn't, and hadn't, been a good one.

So I sit here now and ask myself, what have I actually done? What have I actually succeed in doing, or what decisions have I made to truly change this flow of living? I've already touch the age of 19, and what have I done to really show that I had actually grown or learned or experienced? Nothing. I sit here now and realise that nothing, nothing had been done, nothing had changed, nothing was succeeded and nothing was prevailed. Nothing. I've made mistakes, painful ones as well as the ones that causes pain, and I have learned noting from it. Year after year I see myself plummeting down the very chasm of despair that I cracked open with the mistake I had made, and yet I didn't pick up from it, fear it until I fear falling down again. No. I have been letting be, just leave it to the flow of the stream I say, and see how the current carries it.

I've been going on about having ideas for novels; but have I truly planned it out? My social life, to what I see now, is pathetic; faeces and mashed-up disdains that only revolve around the few people that I call friends, and the friends that treat me as a friend. Have I really ventured out to meet more, to know more, and to communicate more? No. Even among my friends I'm at a loss. I don't know what to say, I don't know how to strike a joke and I don't know how to react to the reactions that occurs. My studies, the future path I chose, is barely being held together by mere passes and strung together with the littlest of efforts. No excellent results, nothing in flying colours and everytime a disappointment to those I love and cherish. I spoke of passion and ambition and paths of fates and destiny, but have I sought mine? Have I begun to relieve myself way from the stream and walk down a path I carve myself? No.

It's time for me to change.

It's time for me to hold myself by myself. It's time for me make everthing that has been given to me worthwhile. It's time for me to venture away from the comforts of my secluded and deluded zone and seek what the world has to offer. It's time for me to succeed in something, it's time for me to complete the scattered dreams that has been abandoned. No more waiting. No more procrastinating. No more believing that things that come by can be solved with ease, no. No more.

It's time for me to grow up. It's time I make the change for the better.

It's time I put a smile into my father's face. It's time I put pride into my mother's eyes. It's time to pick up the pace and compete with my brother.

It's time for me to live a life.

And I need something to remind me. Something; a keepsake or an inventory that'll remind me of what I'm setting out for. And if given I will choose my friends, but too many times now I have depended on the arms of people to keep me warm, keep me safe and protected. I will hold it with my own capability, and I will hone my strength to keep it up. And I choose the chain I wear now around my neck, the chain that bore the God that have been my protector. It will remind me, and always will be.

And I apologize to everyone who read this, especially my friends from college, whom I presume is expecting me to post about the great party we had to celebrate the end of the semester. I am truly sorry to indulge everyone into this.

And I pray that I can change, and I pray that changes will be there for someone who seeks it like I do. Changes for the better.

Drama paper....done!

Ah, yes. Just one final exam paper to go. Journalism paper is on this Thursday, and i have 2 days to prepare for it (i hope the time is sufficient).

But i'm taking this time off to blog a little (well.... i have been taking the whole day off watching a movie and having a go on my PS2..). I'll start tonight, the studying, and hopefully by thursday i can remember the Kershner rules and the ethics. Maybe read back on my older reports, and see if Diane or Amanda can enlighten me with a few pointers the get from Puan Ana, our journalism lecturer (which, though enjoyable to listen to, often drone into her past experiences of being a journalist that often makes me day-dream).

I doze off too early to early to post something about yesterday (which i doubt you care about, anyway). But i felt like i ought to, well, probably as a reason to skive off studying at this hour (i seriously CAN'T study in the evening). So here goes... >.<

I remember waking up feeling disgruntingly lazy, not to mention rather upset that i barely studied for drama (yes i get upset for being lazy, and yet i continue to laze off). I was so bloody reluctant to attend the paper I slouched back at home watching the 6 a.m screening of The Simpsons eating Maggie with eggs. Still, exams are exams, and i don't want to resit for this paper next semester due to confounding laziness, so i drove off to the Station and hitched the 7.11 express train to college.

Ju Ee attended the exams yesterday, to my small bewilderment, despite her rather tired look. I caught up with her on my way up to the exam venue, and i thought she looked rather glad to be attending. "I don't care whether i get a D or whatever, i don't want to trouble my next semester resitting this," she said(in her usual *exasperated cantonese), prior to my question of why she came. I smiled to her back.

(*note: exasperated because of me)

Drama paper was - I'm not gonna lie or be humble about this - surprisingly easier than my expectations (well, i never really knew how the paper format was so i didn't know what to expect). If i was more hardworking in studying it I might've already guaranteed an A. But i wasn't, see, but at least i can expect a pass. Wrote a lot of crap and junk, though, which i hopefully pray that it is the right answers. I was rather surprised that Isaac was the first to leave the exam hall; did he finish it off exceptionately well or did he just scribble away the answers with hopes of gaining a small pass? Hmmm....

The drive home was HELL. My car air-cond broke down (or ran out of gas, maybe, because the wind it produces is not cold), and i guess you should know the how excruciatingly hot the inside of a car can get under the insanely scorching tropical afternoon sun. It was like driving in an active microwave oven, and by the moment I manage to reach home after getting caught in the afternoon lunch-hour jam (in which many drivers unfortunately became oblivious victims of my curses and profanity) I was in the verge of dehydrating (typo?) (yes, it's that hot despite the window open). And i never knew a can of Excel under the fan set to level 3 is HEAVENLY.

I better get the air-cond fixed soon, but maybe during the holidays. i haven't mustered enough courage to tell dad :(

Ack, The Simpsons will be on in a minute! i guess i'll slip off now

Sorry for the boring post today, and sorry for this boring blogger here

konban wa!

*update: i apologise to anyone who read this before i made a correction. i mispelled " Kershner " with " Hershner ". I don't want him turning in his grave when he finds out that a person who possibly is a future journalist shatter his "Accuracy, accuracy, accuracy"

Sitting here, I wonder about tomorrow....

........ because i'm gonna bloody fail my Drama paper. i ended up not studying the whole holidays and the sense of urgency and panic only flitted into my thick patetic cranium 3 hours ago. Once more i realised i'm unprepared. My notion is too absorb as many info as i can about Emily of Emerald hill and pray i remember the specks of it tomorrow, but distractions are too many... ranging from Final Fantasy 3/6 and Chelsea's match agaisnt Liverpool. I can't concentrate, and i know i'm ruined. I'm just gonna stab in a few joss sticks tomorrow at the deities and pray i live through the paper (which i doubt will be granted, for i have SINNED so greatly by procrastinating and succumbing to the blissful temptation of laziness).

And i now i set here ang blog about in an attempt to reflect on it and try to relieve the anxiousness building in my chest. Ugh... when will i learn? How many times already have i fallen into this situation, and yet never learn from it? I suck. I ought to go to hell and suck spiky lollipops. I wonder if a late new year resolution might help. But then again, resolutions never really do help. the only time i managed to successfully accomplish a resolution is when i told myself that i ought to complete Prince of Persia: Warrior Within by January to avoid distractions as i start on Star Ocean 3.

hmmm.... sorry for the late update. I couldn't bring myself to blog over the holidays. I had a notion to make a Chinese new year chronicle posting, but the effort to do so (uploading tons fo pics, editing them, planning the use of them) and the time consumed restricted my lazy arse. I'd leave it until after the exams (last paper on thursday).

Speaking bout thursday i still dunno what to get Geetha for her b'day. i promised a present, and since she had an affection for teddy bears i checked them out at my nearby TESCO supermart. BLoody hell do they cost! Maybe i should coax Amanda and Michelle (oh heck, maybe Ju Ee too) into pot-lucking some money and buy one.

Ah, well, it's time for me to hit the sack. i just hope the nerves from imminent regret that'll settle on me later won't keep me awake.

goodnight peops. And to my fellow classmates (and to those who are also taking the Drama paper tomorrow, i.e the PR guys or the MS gals), good luck tomorrow. All the best! Gambateh!