Overhaul.

Haha, I found myself going at it again; making another overhaul. Apparently I tend to find myself feeling new after every end of a semester, and once more came up with a couple more resolutions. There’s no need for me to point out what will happen to them though.

The old layout is getting rather depressing now… so I opted for a change of scenery. Can’t say that I’m not satisfied with it =)

It took me a while to find the perfect layout, and THIS wasn’t the initial design that I’ve been wanting. And what do you know… after 2 days hunting about for THE layout, I found it at the basic designs page when you first choose your template. By then I’ve already done a lot to enact this new layout… let’s not waste my hours struggling with HTML just to get it right.

And I’m actually having another blog made… but I have yet to decide what to do with it. Yeah, well, I do have a plan for it but it seemed rather vague and pathetic. But I’ll leave it there… see what I can come up with.

My semester break is here, I case I haven’t mentioned it. Everyday is mundane and boring as hell, but surprisingly I’m rather cheerful these few days. Wonder why…

Well if I think back during the exams, things have been real sucky, and I didn’t do that thing that I wanted to do.

Turns out that my being so intent of doing it is the thing that made me so depressed. Lol, I guess at times depression is self-inflicted.

Anyways, I’ll keep this post short. I’ll be having something up in a couple of days.

Goodnight People!

Word of the Day:

improvident
Lacking foresight or forethought; not foreseeing or providing for the future; negligent or thoughtless.

Song of the day: I’ll Make a Man out of You, OST from Disney’s Mulan (Be a Man!)

Anime of the Day: Yu Yu Hakusho (6 pm weekdays on Animax)

New Layout.

Yeah, i'm kinda working out on another overhaul, but with my horrendous ways with HTML and whatever i'm kinda screwing things over and over.

this is not my initial pick for a layout, but before i work a few things out i guess it'll stay.

um, the profile and all... ignore it.

sorry bout the links, i'll have them back when i work it out

Yes, this is nothing.

I know I should be studying, but I guess when your brain is being incapable of absorbing anything other than a self-enacted impulse to sleep into the night; perhaps it’s time for a little diversion.

To be completely honest, it’s not like I’ve been so busy that I could barely take time to a do a little blogging, but I guess under the urgency of the exams I can’t bring myself to spend a good few hours typing. It’s like a bus ram into my conscience; I’ll end up reminding myself that I should be revising instead of uploading crappy posts online.

But tonight is an exception. I guess I earned this little session here today.

Exam week is as crappy as it always is (and I believe always will be), and it’s the same routine of reading in utter relaxation until the horror of it all strikes 3 minutes before the paper. Then I go berserk muttering profanity while trying to cram whatever I could scavenge from my notes (and forget them subsequently). Then I sit for the paper and weep silently as I watch my CGPA crumble away into bitter grains of agony and regret, and flare up a next resolution to my innate procrastination.

And I know you should’ve guessed that those resolutions end up cast into a mental rubbish bin and incinerated at dawn break.

Well, two more papers to go; one tomorrow and another on Saturday. After that is a month’s worth of doing absolutely nothing perpendicular to self-improvement (save the few occasions of attempting to finish up a planned story… that’s self-improvement, right?).

I guess I can be satisfied with my Constitutional Frameworks and Politics paper… I answered smoothly, but there was that nagging feeling that I could’ve done way better (if I had studied). A pass is imminent, perhaps, but it should border between a C or a B. My BM is alright, and English for Mass Comm… I hope I got the formats right. And for some sick reason I was actually enjoying my discussion/opinion essay. I’m not saying that I did well (goodness sakes, I’ll be happy if I get to pass with that sort of essay), but it has been a while since I was actually enjoying my exam questions since those fiction/story essays you get to write at middle-school. Funny, though. I rarely find enjoyment in opinion essays.

But my Civilization paper… ugh, I practically spelt my first fail of my entire year of studying. Perhaps I should go plant a few joss sticks at the altar…

Tomorrow, journalism paper. Which I’m freaking out at. The fact that I’m in a Journalism major is piling eventual but totally unnecessary pressure into doing well in this paper. I mean, what would my mother say?

Mom: *gasps* OMG Jee-boy, you got a C for your journalism paper? WTF HLYSH*T (insert random Hokkien profanity)!!!!!!

Me: Yeah… well, can I have a break? I mean, I’m in a love predicament, and dad’s being an ass about his aquariums and stuff and I was in a non-drug-related ethereal state that affected my ability to write. Plus my clothes had been smelly. And it’s YOUR softener’s fault!

… Nope, not a good excuse…

Ah dang, I’ll worry about it tomorrow. Time I get some sleep.

Goodnight folks.

Word of the day:

erudite
Characterized by extensive reading or knowledge; learned.

Song of the day: The ending Dragonball theme song! (Romantic kura-reru no.., Romantic kura-reru no…)

Anime of the day: Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni (When the Cicadas cry).
Note: Creepiest Anime EVER.

Currently reading: Plethora of notes, notes, text books and notes. Plus the random newspaper comics. And blogs.

I’m jealous.

When I see how her face lit up when I ventured to ask her about him; the soft split of a smile that I know will happen no matter how she tries to hold it back, and the way her eyes stared past the diner table into a realm that only she can witness its beauty… I know I’ll be jealous for some time to come.

And her most recent blog entry spells out her every sweetness and warmth, and one could see how deeply plunged she is into this thing that we call love (well maybe not that deep… or maybe so, I dunno, and I don’t think I’ll ask her).

I’m worse than jealous (for a moment, I think)… I’m envious.

And it makes me regret myself (as if I don’t have enough of that), and what I should’ve done if I’m not such a complete and utter fool.

Regret is a painful thing to carry, and with this recent crapload of conscience and exam depression (which is rather non-existent right now, but it will soon), I think I’m gonna crack.

…ok, I won’t. If it somehow sounded like I’m going through a phase of emotional agony and immense frustration, well, I’m not. I’m just being a whiny idiot (for a change, though I believe the change is not large. I’m always whiny).

And if I somehow made it sound like all these stints of jealously are due to my affection for this ‘her’ that I’ve mentioned above… well, FYI, I’m not.

My jealously is due to her getting a BF right now (and if you don’t know what a BF is… well, it’s Big Foot. (>^-^)> LaMeNeSS <(^-^<) ). Mind you, I’m very happy for her… just that I can’t help but feel… you know…

But no, to be truthful, the biggest thing that hit me during the revelation of her getting a BF (still dunno what it is? It’s Blasphemous Fidelity) is that courage and honesty that brought them together. Because if it’s one thing I lack (in this pathetic situation I’m in), it’s that courage and that honesty. To just tell… to just say what’s there to say. To know what’s there to know. And to accept what’s there to accept.

I’ve been afraid to tell. I’ve been fearful to know. And I’m dead chickened-out to accept what other consequences that I might accept.

Easily put: I’M A FUCKING COWARD.

But somehow, I mean, strangely obvious somehow… I can’t help but feel that this; all this, in a way, unlocked a couple of doors. Doors that I kept closed and willed to close. Now they’re casually open, waiting me to just walk in and ignore whatever consequences that lies beyond.

I saw her today, and I had a burst of notion to just grab her hand and lead her somewhere, and then tell her. Cook up a cheesy line or 2, and try and make it sound as cool as possible (though I’m dead certain that I’ll stutter like mad they day I do), and just tell. Screw whatever’s coming. Come what may. Que Sera Sera. D.G.A.F (don’t give a fuck).

But I didn’t (of course, or this blog entry would sound waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay different). Why? Well, it’s obvious, no? Starts with a ‘C’ (note that it’s capitalized) and finishes with an ‘oward’. Add ‘ice’ to the end.

And there’s always the possibility of mine having that notion is due to a burst of reckless inspiration the derived from my so mentioned jealousy, so no, not doing something reckless… no…

But sometimes being reckless is the thing… Sometimes recklessness can get you some places that careful thought wouldn’t (like going bungee jumping… I mean, what the heck? In the immensely rational mind diving off a bloody bridge with nothing but a length of bouncy rope attached to your feet is damnation spelled Suicide. But well, one can have some reckless fun. Geronimo!)

Still, the doors are still left open and unlocked…

Perhaps, one fine day, and soon, I’ll become reckless…

For the time being, I should just study for my exams (and I’m fucking blogging. Shit).

Goodnight people.

Word of the day:

insouciant
Marked by lighthearted unconcern or indifference; carefree; nonchalant.

(Insouciant is I)

Song of the day: Sokabasu (freckles) by Judy and Mary (Samurai X original soundtrack).

Good things come in handfuls…

You know, it’s often very difficult to find someone who understands you. Someone you can relate to, someone to share something that you’re so familiar with, someone who can easily sympathise and empathise with your plight and pains. Perhaps that is why we so often find ourselves closer to people whom you can recognise is going through a very similar endeavour. Perhaps that is why we so often find love within people who we understand, and who understands us.

But, if you think of it, perhaps to find someone who can CARE for you… isn’t it the harder search? You can find someone who understands you, but not necessarily cares about you. You can find someone who can give you advices that are proper but never sincere, but it may be harder to find someone who gives wholehearted advices (albeit rather useless ones).

So what should it be? Someone who is almost you, or someone who loves you?

Haha, pardon my sudden outburst of nonsense, but I guess one can get carried away with a sudden bloom of thoughts. And Ju Ee had been saying that I’ve always started my entries with “I should be sleeping now but…”, so here’s to break the chain.

But if I may, and much to my apologies, go further on this subject of Understanding VS Concern, I may safely say that there’s almost no one who can understand this oddball of an idiot that is me (not that there’s anything to understand… but perhaps simplicity can be complex at times). It’s difficult, in certain times, to not have someone whom you can relate and talk to, and comprehend in return (notice that in my case, I use the word ‘comprehend’). I’ve often felt left out (feeling is useless; in fact, I KNOW that I’m often left out), lonely and utterly miserable.

No, I’m not going to deem myself unfortunate and alone, because – much to my luck – I’m very much cared for. I have a mother who’s protective, a brother who may be an ass but oftentimes caring and a dad who gives me a lot of trouble but loves me all the same. I have friends who gave me advice, helped me, made me laugh when I’m bitter and taught me things that I never knew I could learn (like playing DOTA).

I consider myself very lucky. Though one or 2 individuals who can understand my plights would do very well at most times.

What a great couple of days! I’ve never felt so elated and brimming in a while (even the Langkawi trip seemed to had served to mock my sorry existence). I’ll just call myself fortunately fortunate. They say good things come in handfuls (or showers, cascades, plethora, avalanche, Christmas, the toilet and the likes), and indeed they have… though one can’t really shake away the few stubborn bad stains that stick like a persistent love grass to someone’s sweat pants.

So the good things are:

1) A great day with Rachel.

2) I finally managed to fix my laptop’s resolution problem. Thanks to my pal Ryan here (next chee cheong fun is my treat).

3) A WIFI internet router doesn’t cost as much as I thought, so I may be able to coax my dad into getting one (FINALLY! To be able to use the net without fear that my bro will suddenly take over and disrupt my surfing. And I get to watch por-… er… porcupine documentaries).

4) The new Artemis Fowl book is out (*confetti*).

5) The fact that I will be getting the above said book in a month’s time (*champagne*)

6) Watched Russell Peters and had the best of laughs.

7) Animax is here. Been watching it every time I managed to get my hands on the remote.

8) Ate the best Yong Tau Fu EVER! Ampang yong tau fu? Meh. Puchong Yong Tau Fu? Now we’re talking <(^-^)>

9) Bro got great results for his exams! WOOOOoooooTTTtttt! (he even got a full scholarship at another college! Man I’m jealous…).

10) I’m writing with VIBE. It’s been a long while.

… and the crappy things:

1) Dad’s constant nagging about bro’s decision to continue his PT work when his classes start.

2) Dad’s horrendously troublesome and somewhat tedious (recent) passion for having as many fish-habitants as possible and fixing up the most complex and beautiful settings with them.

3) Dad’s method of fixing things that are not broke.

4) Dad using the most complicated methods to fix the simplest thing.

5) Dad’s “you don’t talk shit to me.” Which is getting very old, by the way.

(I can actually sum everything above under category ‘Dad’ and save a great deal of space).

6) Exams are starting in a week’s time.

7) I haven’t been studying.

8) My ‘The Matrix: Path of Neo’ game is broke.

9) Despite the VIBE, my writing is not improving.

10) My listening to my brother’s complains for almost 4 days in a row now (which isn’t all that bad, but it can get depressing).

The day with Rachel turned out to be the most fun I had in a while. We had lunch, and walked around the Bukit Bintang area looking at PC hardwares, figurines and books. And Rachel is great company; she’s a great listener (or rather, I was too talkative that day), she’s funny and she’s cheery. We had some laughs and talked a lot (though I forgot what we spoke about, but at the end of the day my throat was dry). I haven’t had a day like this since a year ago, when I went out with Amanda for a movie and lunch. I went home so complacent and carefree that I forgot to study (muahahaha).

And Rachel reads a lot (and I mean A LOT) of books, and she’s (thankfully) not one who’s only proud to stick to one certain author or series (“Harry Potter is KING! Nothing else but Harry Potter!” “Hey, hey, you gotta read Narnia man, I mean, it’s like, NARNIA!” Whatever). For the first time in my life, I’m being pointed out about books and authors instead of me doing it.

Note: I’ve met with people who are exasperatingly and annoyingly proud of ONE certain author or book series. They don’t read anything else, and they think that those series or authors are the epitome and lord of literature (it’s true, that’s what they announce to every person unfortunate enough to listen to them). Come on, I mean, they ARE good, but heck to denounce everything else as crap and their favourites Kind of Novels… I have only one word: you suck. You don’t know what the heck reading is in the first place. And heaven knows how fucked-up it is when you go around talking about the same novel and praising it until your saliva depletes. Sheesh.

(My apologies if you happen to be like someone above. But do understand that they had been tormenting me with immense aggravation from their constant bragging, and condemning of other books).

It’s getting late now, so I guess I’ll end it here. Happy Merdeka to my fellow Malaysians.

Goodnight people.

Word of the day:

explicate
To explain; to clear of difficulties or obscurity.

Song of the day: Rocking the suburbs by Ben Folds.

Anime of the day: Bokura ga Ita (We were there) ep 6.

Movie of the day: The Ant Bully (While somewhat imaginative and entertaining, the plot and theme fell into such stale predictability that it ruins the great setting and ideas. And perhaps one CG movie where the big name actors failed to convey life into their characters. 3 stars out of 5).

On an island in the sun...

Langkawi Island…

A land with an epic legend.

A land with a town named Gravy (in Malay).

A land of duty free liquor, cigarettes and chocolates.

But most importantly… it is an island. Yes, with beaches and all; palm trees, smooth sands, refreshing winds, killer sunshine, gentle waves and seagulls or the likes.

How could I pass up an opportunity like that? Though it did take me a considerably long time to decide on the offer; I’m not fond with postponing another lunch with Rachel and the exams are close.

Yup, so I’ve been there and back. Langkawi Island. Land of the freaking cheapest can of beer I’ve ever bought (RM1.20 per can, which is DIRT cheap compared to the price you get at restaurants. Not that I drink anyways, but heck is it cheap).

left on Monday and came back Friday morning (yeap, skived a lot of classes in the process), though I just spend 3 days on the island. Monday was a day reserved for paying a visit to my great grandmother at Butterworth. She’s still fine, to my relieve. 101 years old, and she can immediately recognize me as the silly great-grandson who would return home from school and slide around the floor in his school uniform. I can’t understand a word she says though; she speaks in traditional Teochew, but she understands a great deal of Cantonese. As in every of my visits, she cried when we left. It’s painful to see her eyes well up in tears… those eyes that saw so much and so far, and so gentle yet fragile. And she’s so lonely now, and so far away, so it’s hard for us who lives at the southern side of the country to constantly travel up and visit. Sigh.

Spent the night at my eldest aunt’s house… on a sofa which tormented my neck... without mercy.

For some reason, I found the journey to the island somewhat arduous. The jetty at Kuala Kedah was shrouded in a stench that reminded me of decaying prawns 100 times amplified. The ferry was swarming with cockroaches, not to mention packed and stuffy, and I had the unfortunate pick to be seated right next to my grandfather who is grumpy, boring, and very feisty (and smells of the cigars he smokes… oh God). We rented a van at the island, which was a rusting microwave oven without power steering, and had lunch at Kuah town under the immensely murderous heat (I had 4 glasses of iced barley drink, and guess what the food was? Fried Keow Teow, Asam Laksa and Prawn Noodles. Oh lordy). Then there was that 30 minute drive to the hotel… well at least the scenery is beautiful.

Right, I was very, very patient and tolerating throughout the whole thing, because I know that soon I get to beach… and there’s nothing like the beach; sands like wheat flour, the serene falling of the waves, the winds with the sweet scent of the ocean and the bikini clad hotties basking under the sun… all these soon and very soon, as soon as I we reach the hotel…

What the fuck?

Hath mine eyes deceived me, cruelly and as relentless as Darth Vader force-choking an imperial pilot? Is that the freaking airport I see right behind the hotel, with its planes and stretches of tracks, and around it was nothing but trees, growths, padi fields and murky puddles of mud? And with the airport so near… it means…

Where’s the beach? Where are the smooth sands, the serene falling of the waves, the winds with ocean-smell and bikini clad hotties?

Miles away from the hotel. MILES.

What’s even the point of going to the island in the first place? What’s an island WITHOUT a beach? What in the bloody damnation of hell is this? Holy shit.

First day wasted on… shopping. Oh, look at the joy as my ignorant relatives frolicked to the plethora of duty free shops buying the cheapest fags, booze and those brown sweet stuffs in the nation while I tag along like a walrus being told that the artic had melted. Well I took time to time to grab a couple of Smarties and keychains, so it’s not all that bad… but they had to do it EVERY FREAKING NIGHT. When you wanna buy a cheap luggage bag, you buy the cheap luggage bag. Don’t waste the beautiful star filled nights of a tropical island returning to the same damn shops contemplating the same bags over and over again, when we could’ve driven to the closest beach and have a nighttime stroll. C’mon people! You were in a bloody beach-haven and you’d prefer to shop for luggage bags which are probably imitation goods because of the price tag. What the bloody hell is wrong with you?

(You might realize that I’m thoroughly biased to the beaches, ignoring the fact that my relatives are all adults in a land of duty free stuff. But try and understand…).

The second day fared better, at least. Had a complimentary buffet breakfast at the hotel, and I believe I tasted every single thing at the buffet table except for the fried noodles which looked like my high school rendition of “worst noodles ever”. We went to the Underwater World aquarium, which was somewhat disappointingly lackluster compared to the ones at KLCC or Sentosa Island, but I had fun all the same. Instant noodles lunch at the hotel (if you’d believe it), and at 2 we went island hopping. This boat took to a couple of famous islands around Langkawi; we went to Pulau Dayang Bunting (Island of the Pregnant Maiden, with the hills forming the image of a pregnant lady lying down. Legend has it that if a woman bathes at the lake in the island, she will conceive a child), Pulau Helang where sea eagles gather and this island with a beautiful BEACH where we spent an hour at.

That was about the only time we got to a beach, and I’m not in swimming apparel. Damn.

That night we played cards with drinks and snacks at the hotel corridors, and I drank my first Vodka with orange, which got my head woozy when we wrapped up (I’m not good with alcohol), but I cleared it up with a good, long soak at the tub with a novel.

We were supposed to leave the next morning, but my aunt decided to have some last minute fun, and we went and took the cable cars to the highest grounds on the island. And man was the view magnificent… I almost forgot the fact that there were no beaches in this trip. Well, almost…

It’s sad that we didn’t visit the Telaga Tujuh waterfalls and the Anna and the King movie set (which was a waste, because I wanted to see the set when I heard that they shot the movie there, and I liked the movie).

Well the fun at the cable cars caused us a considerably long delay to head home, and by the time we arrived to the mainland it was already 7, which means I reach Kajang at 2 in the morning, and thus I had to spend the night at grandmother’s house (and had to postpone Rachel’s lunch for the second time). We had a late dinner at Tambun; seafood at the seaside. I didn’t arrive home until Friday afternoon, and by then I was already homesick. No place like home…

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have fun this time around… I just wished we saw more beaches. Well my aunt is planning for another trip there, and this time we’ll be staying at a BEACH resort. YES!

Now’s just the matter of waiting.

Oh shit, my exam’s 2 weeks away.

Goodnight people.

Word of the day:

habitue
One who habitually frequents a place.

Movie of the day: 50 first dates (sweet, funny and charming… what else can go wrong? 3 ½ stars out of 5).

Anime of the day: Bleach ep 97.

Currently reading: Tall Stories by Tom Holt (which contains ‘Expecting someone taller’ and ‘Ye Gods!’)

Currently playing: The matrix: Path of Neo.

Dirge of Cerberus.

Battle Stadium D.O.N

Le Random.

What am I doing here? I should be sleeping, I mean, I have to wake at 5 tomorrow in the morning and drag myself to college and if I have any sense of learning through my past mistakes of sleeping-late-&-waking-horrendously-early-for-crappy-day, I should really be lunging myself to bed right now with sleeping pills as a last resort in case insomnia kicks in.

Alright, my bad, I should’ve done this earlier and not sit myself in front of the old TV playing Winning Eleven 8 (or PESoccer 5). If you’re asking why I should even bother doing this and just go sleep instead, well, this blog is made under the request of mon very fascinating (in a weird sense, but fascinating nonetheless), enthusiastic and (with all due and ultimate respect) adorably lame coursemate Pei Ling. She popped to me on MSN and requested this on her first words coupled with emoticons and a *dances*, so if I refuse to do it I’ll be

1) An AssHOLE and

2) (Since I’m an asshole anyways and the previous doesn’t apply) going to sleep ignoring the fact that a pretty friend took time and care to ask me to blog and keep this hellhole of a site alive, and ridden with the painful haunts of guilt.

But to be real honest:

3) Going to sleep achieving nothing for the day, and if answering to a friend’s request to blog is in a way doing something WORTHWHILE for the day, well, I GOTTA do it.

So here I am, sacrificing sleep and rest so that I can post something that’s probably not worth anyone’s attention, so that I can comfort my conscience with a pretence that I did something that in a way is achieving something.

*cue HALLELUJAH song here*

Naw, just kidding (kinda). I wanted to take time to blog anyhow, so in a way it’s a win-win situation. Screw sleep and tomorrow. Nothing a good plate of Chee Cheong Fun (all chilli) can’t cure.

hanks Pei Ling =). Appreciate the request *bows*

Well, I’ve practically planned nothing for this post so it’s pretty much random stuff (which Ling says I should do when I’m out off things to blog).

Not that I plan for any of my posts anyways.

The weekend has been a lazy and carefree one, and I had a 4 day break from college (the first 2 days are self-declared ‘break-days’). Things had been pretty busy and hectic before, and I guess my biological clock and schedule kind of tuned itself to ‘slow and lazy’. For the past days all I’ve been doing are:

1) Glutton away (shit).

2) PS2 my ass off.

3) Spread myself in front of the new TV and watching DVD.

4) Surfed the net aimlessly.

5) Sleep. Like a walrus.

Very relaxing. Exam’s a couple of weeks away, you idiot.

I just realised that I haven’t felt hunger for 4 days. Not even a TINGE of it.

Shit.

Everything seems to have dissipated into a chill and take-it-easy pace after the assignments. No, ignore the fact that exams are as close as a bone to the pelvic. Everything has settled for a vacation and lazing out under the summer sun. Slow, cheery, ignorant…

Where’s the urgency? Where’s the sense of dread of impending doom?

Heck I want urgency and I want dread. I don’t intend to laze away until Exam Day when I wake up and “Oh shit. What’re my subjects again?”

Hey, it happened. Serious.

But everything is just so… so… chilled out…

t’s hard not to go “Fuck exams! I’m playing Shadow Hearts!”

*Sigh*

Come to think of it, everything IS chilled now. I’ve not been thinking about her, nor whatever that comes with her. I’ve not worried myself with a plethora of idiocy and self-inflicted torment (no I’m not saying that I do shit like cutting myself or drilling holes to my soles. Just questions). In fact, I found myself rather more interested with a peculiar relationship this friend of mine is starting (and somehow concerned… feels like I’m watching soap dramas).

Looking forward to lunch with Rachel. I think it’s about the only time I actually asked a girl out to lunch without another friend suddenly tagging along (wow! I feel like a loser. So familiar a feeling…).

The Superman theme song is stuck in my head…

By a stroke of luck, I managed to catch Napoleon Dynamite on HBO yesterday. I have no idea of what the movie was freaking about, apart from the fact that it’s kinda hyped up by a couple of programs I glimpsed. Turns out to be an interesting watch, though not as funny as I hoped it would be.

Perhaps, in a morbid and real kind of way, I feel like Napoleon. Outcast, loser, nerd/geek/noob, impediment, etc. It feels so familiar, watching it. Guess it’s undeniable that I’m a geek.

Though it’ll be hell the day I choose to name myself Napoleon Dynamite…

Whoa, cripes, it’s 20 minutes past midnight. I guess I really should head to sleep.

Goodnight people.

Song of the day: Eleanor by Low Millions.

Currently Reading: random cookbook.

Movie of the day: Superman Returns. (despite falling somewhat short, this movie celebrated the return of a superhero icon with flair and style. 4 out of 5 stars)

Currently Playing: Shadow Hearts: From the new world

Pro Evolution Soccer 5.

I LOST…

To someone named David (why does the name piss me off? No, it can’t be because I lost to someone with the name… yeah well it is), whom I somehow knew but never met. He’s mates with Amanda and Michelle, and I saw him about at Monday, though how he knew my name and how I look somehow eluded my memories. He just walked up to me with an oddly determined look, and said “You’re JE, right? I’m David.”

Have we met?

We had a little practise session, and he beat me flat out (I wasn’t well ready to go seriously, so I kinda let lots of shuttles go on purpose, but I have to admit that he gets his ball placing done). Fate did a job in getting us to play each other; both our opponents didn’t turn up, and we happened to be playing after another.

I lost by 21-18 and 21-16… I think.

I’m know I’m being hubristic and a sore loser for saying this, but given practise on singles games and a better control at nerves, I could’ve won. He’s not that good to the point that I have to run around the court like a desperate lemur, and frankly speaking his points came more from me making stupid mistakes. And in my desperation I couldn’t get my smashes down, and kept netting my drops. Practising with him earlier was both a mistake and a smart choice; he knew my forehand defence is weak and kept hitting at hit, but in time I can anticipate his placing. Not enough though. I also lost on stamina and experience.

All in all, I lost with satisfaction, but I’m going to get back at him another day.

Yep, a sore loser, I am.

He said something to me after the game, which (in my fatigued and blurry state) sounded like “You know, I gave you a lot of chances to catch up with me just now, but you couldn’t, so… hehe.”

I hope I heard right because…

Pompous, self-conceited bastard… bloody arrogant son of a-

But I guess didn’t intend any ill-will in saying that, because I got invited to a game on the 23rd of August and possible future Counter-Strike matches (it’s rare to find a couple of people playing this after the Warcraft 3 DOTA upsurge).

Still one can’t help but feel…

Haughty, pretentious, supercilious assho-

I stayed back to have a few friendly games with the organising committee, a bunch of cheerful and friendly people from the Multimedia course. Had good laughs and fun, though I didn’t manage to get their numbers (much to my regret).
Had a lonely dinner at a restaurant… ate crappy prawn noodles and downed a can of 100 Plus.

It struck me that no one came to watch me compete… and that I’m the only one without someone supporting (though Teh Derwoei said he supported me ‘spiritually and magically from the comforting confines of his mess-strewn apartment room’. He asked me if I ‘felt’ him. I told him I felt like puking and crap, and I wondered if that was him).

Well I brought it upon myself… and I did miss out on the girl’s finals game yesterday… unintentional, of course. I followed mom’s car. But if I had the determination I would’ve stayed. I had the half-notion of calling my mother to head home without me and then turn around and head back to courts, but I dropped the thought. My presence won’t matter anyways.

Goodnight people. Sweet dreams.

Word of the day: animus
1. Basic attitude or animating spirit; disposition; intention.
2. A feeling of ill will; animosity.
3. In Jungian psychology, the inner masculine part of the female personality

Song of the day: The Freshman by Verve Pipe.

Anime of the day: Blood+ ep 38

Movie of the day: Disney’s Dinosaur (I admit while it’s horrendously cheesy and clichéd, it’s somehow rather enjoyable. 3 stars out of 5)

Took long enough...

To the anonymous commenter of my previous post: Thanks for reminding me… time to get the vacuum out.

Haha, how long has it been since I blogged? 3 days actually… I DID manage to post something up, but took it down because it’ll definitely piss off a couple of people (I wrote it in under frustration and some caffeine. Bad combo).

Anyways, the previous few weeks were a marathon of lethargy (I’m aware that you tire after a marathon, no pun intended actually). Last minute assignments, failed attempts at book reviews and competition fiction essays, all that jazz. I reach home everyday feeling like a tofu. The rest is cliché; too tired to blog, yada yada.. you get the picture.

Not to mention that stupid frustration from some silly, childish endeavour that I had to face, and my feeling horrendously unfair to be chucked a handful of it without the chance of explaining myself.

And Monday. Let’s not talk about Monday.

Let’s just say that what happened warranted me to yell in the middle of the college parking lot and fumed into my sleep.

But good dim sum and tea this morning washed it away into the gutter… I have no idea how well it does to soothe the soul.

Funny, you’d think that my absence should provide me with plenty of things to crap, and yet I’m sitting here with absolutely nothing to blog about.

Haha, I guess this will do for now. I’ve to prepare for tomorrow’s badminton game anyways.

I’m so gonna lose.

Word of the day: Sough

Song of the day: Heist by Ben Folds

Anime of the day: Bokura ga Ita.

Untitled title titling title.

Once more, I’ve wasted away the weekend like a half-can of Pringles chucked into a ravine.

I have not been studying for Tuesday’s mid-term, I have not attempted to start on my MPH Young Writers essay, I have not even thought of which book to review for this month’s book review competition and I have not called anyone for my in-depth report.

Instead I slept the mornings away (after buying breakfast and doing some marketing), chatted online for hours, watched a considerably good amount of Japanese anime, deleted 7 blog drafts, hunted for movie trailers and read Arabian Nights.

I should’ve asked her out for a movie instead. Wasted.

A lot people reckoned that I have not been aggressive enough, you know, in terms of hitting on her (wait… this doesn’t sound so right…), and I know I’m not. And I don’t know what I’m playing at. I hate myself.

Alright, perhaps I shall divert away from this recurring topic of posting tonight. I believe I have already arrantly disemboweled a number of you with such immense idiocy, so let’s keep the body count lower.

You know, sometimes I wonder why I can give someone advice but never seem to be able to adhere to it. I can tell someone the best possible solution over a particular problem, but when I’m toiling with the same thing I’ll find myself floundering at the surface of despair. And I can’t say that I forget about them either. In fact, the first possible explanation and answer is always there when I need one, but I never seem to be able to use them properly. It sucks. It’s like having the right keys to a door, and finding myself banging, slamming and hollering for it to open because I can’t seem to get it working.

A few days back I told a friend (via late-night SMSes), who was in sort of a love predicament, to stop dwelling in uncertainties and seek for the ultimate truth and answer. And she did, and it is my utmost delight to tell you that she found a very satisfying answer. I don’t mean to place this as a pompous brag, I mean, I just gave her something I know and it’s her choice to do it or not. Sorry if I make it seem so.

Anyways, I throw this back at myself and I discover that I’m kind of still living under the shades of uncertainty. A little instinct picked off from studying journalism, I guess I’ve come to accept that there should be no uncertainty in answering any questions asked. Uncertainties suck, and they suck like hell. Before this I was somewhat deluged by a cascade of heavy uncertainties, and those days is like being trapped in some forsaken cave-in with life leaking away from you slowly, and then you suffocate silently but painfully, and those days every single piece of answer is like a perpetual ray of hope, and you cling on to it like your life depends on its thinning tread. It’ll affect your every thought, actions and decisions. Those days were all about asking questions to myself, plunging myself into intense worry and unnecessary fear with answers that are neither true or false, and it eats the heart like termites to wood. And everything then, whatever a friend says, or a brother’s advice, or a song lyric, EVERYTHING, is like the way to sanctity, no matter how good or bad is sounds. Those times were like drowning, and you’re groping at every piece of wood hoping that it’ll keep you afloat. It’s tormenting, and it’s suffocating, literally. Bad place to get into.

A good journalist gets questions answered. No assumptions. No guesses. Plain, hard facts. And I guess that’s what people should do. Just ask. Get the answer. And be content with whatever you get. I have the confidence to guarantee that whatever answer is, whether it is to your preference or not, will definitely if not subtly give you some form of satisfaction.

Irony, perhaps, to find myself still stuck under uncertainty and assumptions when the freaking way out is right in front of me (complete with an escalator and showering confetti). While it doesn’t hurt as it used to, it still sucks to be down here. It stinks. It stinks worse to think that I have the answer out, and I’m not using it. Why? This I cannot answer. Cowardice or stupidity, I don’t know. There’s a wall I have to vault over, and I’m not making it.

… I apologize. I’ve once more steered back into the very thing I don’t intend to speak about tonight. Sorry if you’re puking with utter disdain again.

It’ll be a long while before I get out of this crap.

Ah well, at least there’s badminton to look forward to. The college inter-school sports carnival is soon, and the badminton line-up is as good as set. We’re training now, though progress isn’t all that well yet. At least the girls are improving. And there’s a glitch in a line-up which I have to settle. A very huge bug which is dauntingly hampering.

I know the chances of winning are a tad slim, but it’s competing that I’m excited about. Last year I made the team but I didn’t play, because I backed out for a senior to play instead. That time I’ve just practically picked up the racquet after a decade of not playing (and I never did play well last time), I sucked and I thought that my senior will play better. Well he did play better, but only the slightest fraction, and we got trashed. What pisses me off is myself for skulking out without trying. I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve improved a great deal in a year, and now I want to compete to know my stand.

There’s no way I’ll back out this year… unless I break a bone or something (touch wood, baby. TOUCH IT).

It’s time I hit the sack. I have Wai Yee’s birthday to look forward to tomorrow =)

Goodnight people.

Word of the day: Mordant ~ Sarcastic.

Currently reading: Araaaaabian Niiiiiights….

Song of the day: Still Fighting It by Ben Folds.

Anime of the day: Blood+ ep 32.

Frustrated about myself...

She’s so close… and I have so much to say…

But the words, as usual, rust and dissipate into dust somewhere between thinking and acting.

So much for mustering every ounce of confidence I have… sigh.

I can’t get myself, really. Somehow I know all my flaws and I correct them the best I can, and yet I dwindle into despair every single day. It’s frustrating to see myself falling into the same pathetic chasm time after time, watching the hole filling until it opens the next day, and I find myself buried once more. What can I do? My fault, my flaws, my own incapability.

I wish myself back to the times when I just got to know her… we were pretty cool back then, and I wasn’t such a loser and fucked up idiot. Then the revelation hit me and I realised that I like her more than just a friend, and things snowballed downhill from there. I became a worthless cunt and now I frustrate myself with my self-inflicted suffocation and arrant idiocy.

SIGH.

It’s like waking up daily with her in your mind, with all your confidence and courage emblazoned like a banner of war, and you summon all your will to walk up to her, or get close to her, and then finding herself not noticing you, not giving a damn, ignoring you when you try to get her attention because you’re not good at it, trying to make her laugh or joke or sneer even, but in the end you made a fool out of yourself and you find despair slowly shrouding you in its misery. And you know that this is stupid and juvenile and idiotic even but you can’t help drowning under its persistent currents, and then comes the bouts of assumptions and worries and fears that can go from downright stupid to fucking crazy chicken squeezing down a gun barrel. You feel like shit, you feel like crap and worst of all you feel like a worthless loser. Then you tell yourself that it’s ok, and it’s all about spending time with her and trying and trying and trying again until you’ve said your heart and you know hers, and after everything will be alright. The next day dawns, rinses this down the drain, and repeats.

SIGH.

Man, I’m like, what? I freaking loser.


Goodnight people…


Word of the day: Imbroglio

Song of the day: Dirty Little Secrets by The All American Rejects.

I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence i have...

And cannonball into the water.

I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence i have...

For you i will....

For you I will

Fuck Today.

It has been a long day, but time felt a fleeting ship. Fast, merciless perhaps, never waiting.

It’s somewhat funny to imagine that 12 hours ago from this hour I was sitting here wondering about my freedom of independence and decisions, minutes after my dad irrationally hollered at me for donating blood without seeking his permission. I was angry, aghast, an insatiable void of angst crumbling into a large canyon of nothingness. But no one, and nothing, was there for me to talk to, and the anger somewhat swelled into temper. I wasn’t afraid to have go, and I almost had one with my brother, another tactless individual of the house that wouldn’t see an act of kindness as compassion but instead deeming it as an act stupidity.

And I almost lost it at my assignment partner. If he was standing with me during that moment I would’ve hit him, I admit with much guilt, and that moment the rage seething in me was almost close to eruption. One could only tolerate laziness and utter irresponsibility for so much. The only thing holding me back from totally deluging him with every stinking fault of his was the fact that he is a friend, and a companion. I held back, but I remembered the heat of my replies to his fucked-up answers. I apologized later, but looking back I realized that I never really meant it. Cold as it may seem, I did it only to maintain the friendship between us. It struck me that he never apologized.

You’d wonder how someone should feel when they had practically cost the sleep and rest of a friend because of pure idleness. Perhaps there was guilt in him, I pondered, as I sat in a very long and silent night typing down a feature with no planning and limited information. I can’t blame it entirely on him; my own procrastination and unfortunate delays had their cause it in. Lonely, tired, dejected, one could only feel this much depression in a night. One can of coffee, Questionable Contents open in a separate computer window and some snacks snuck out of the kitchen, I set down to finish the story. It took me 5 hours.

I read back and saw how messy it is, but what is done is done, and I don’t have the luxury of time to retrace my steps and start over. And I was late. A good amount of dallying and immense drowsiness caused me to miss my intended train. The event I’m supposed to attend was held in KLCC, at the convention centre, and when I arrived I was 5 minutes past entrance time. So I ran, like an idiot and a stupid moron, foolishly afraid that being late meant that entrance to the event would be troublesome for another party’s part. I ran on a body devoid of sleep, food and water with only the remnants of the caffeine in my 3 a.m. coffee drink. It was sickening. It was fucked-up above all things.

I found the class, panting, sweating, wanting to puke and only finding that there was nothing that could be regurgitated. The guys looked at me as though I was the foolish bastard, as though everything that matters me to them is gone. I felt childishly dejected and ignored. The girl I’m that I am so deeply infatuated with barely acknowledged my existence there, despite me heaving away like an asthmatic patient right in front of her. It was only later when she asked what was wrong with me, and before I can answer properly she was away with a hand phone. And if there was anything that felt worse than crap this stinking morning, this was it. The feeling of dejection and ignorance.
I know that I am naïvely and irrationally pissed off, but the pain is there, stabbing, nagging, tugging at the rib cage and toiling my already numbing mind. It was my own fault that I am ignored, this I can readily admit. But it comes to show that I am the insignificant bastard no one gives a damn about. Not until I make a show of involuntary groaning. That is something you can’t ignore. And fuck it.

There was no real reason for us to be there at the event, apart from being fillers in that large hall. Everyone was there for nothing, just there, sitting, half-heartedly listening, sleeping, reading, all that jazz. By then I was so thoroughly under a case of self-inflicted mellowness I took the liberty of acting like a journalist and made a small coverage over the stupid event. Yes, it was stupid, and even more stupid for us to be there. Top my crappy morning off with something that I’m practically forced to go only to make a half-assed coverage, listening to dull speeches and being annoyingly blinded by irrelevant light shows. Fuck. Yes, fuck. Fuck that fucked up stupid shit of an event. Fuck the person who wants me there for nothing and fuck the morning. Fuck everyone, I don’t care. The point is that I don’t wanna give a fuck and I’m giving a fuck anyway. Fuck it.

I apologize. But if there’s one day where I ought to have the privilege of saying fuck at, well, it was today.

Fuck it.

Goodnight people.

Word of the day: Fuck.

Song of the day: Better Days by The Goo Goo Dolls.

Up when I shouldn't.

It’s 11 at night or so, and I’m wondering what I’m doing here, sitting up typing this when I should’ve been asleep. And I REALLY should be sleeping, having only slept 3 hours last night, and now the head is toiling with pleads that I should just hit the sack. But I have a couple of stuff to get off my chest, though I doubt I can really go all out here in this publicly viewed blog, but it’s gonna be a relief, at least in a small way.

Brother is stirring. I should avoid typing loudly (a habit of mine, which is an attempt to simulate the sensation of using a typewriter). I’ve spent an hour or less creating relatively similar pie-charts for my Bahasa Malaysia assignment, feeling that the overall theme and topic of it could’ve been so much better. But it’s my fault for missing out all those discussions, and now I’m practically someone head-butting into a group expecting to do nothing and gain marks for it. In case you haven’t noticed, I have a general loathing for people who do this without realising their wrong, so I very much despise the fact that I’m so close to being one.

Somehow I was glad that the assignment wasn’t fully completed… and I get to help pitch in a thing or two. Yeah, well, it’s actually making my week three times more hectic that it should’ve been, but at least I don’t need to live with the guilt of being a hypocrite (I am one, perhaps, subconsciously and without knowing).

Still, extra work can be a bummer, especially when it means that I don’t get sufficient time to hit a decent sleep, and tomorrow I have to miss out on a dinner with my aunt. I miss my aunt and family… they are, somewhat, my preferable ‘second-family’, though our lifestyles and er… social culture are poles apart. But I guess work is work…

Today felt like a heavy baggage stuffed with unnecessary clothes and jumbled up underwear… I was feeling like crap. Tired, lethargic; signs of staying up late trying to catch the finals of the World Cup. Then there was that shot of envy and jealously, which was totally stupid and childish of me. But it’s one of those things where you know you’re being utterly pathetic to allow it to happen, but it just deluged you anyway, whether you like it or not.

So much for feeling optimistic and cheerful. I’m feeling like a sandbag collecting dust as the buffalo drags it up the beaten track. And fuck myself for feeling so. It’s stupid. Plain stupid. Stu-fucking-pid. Yet it nags down your heart like some persistent asshole trying to prove his point. These feelings should be long gone when I made my most recent resolutions. Sigh. It’ll take a couple of days.

Well, emotional baggage checked in into Flight 749, bound to Tomorrow where I have to collect it and heave it throughout the day once more. Time I hit the sack (my GOD my suckiness can tip the entire city of Ipoh into the Malacca Strait).

Goodnight people.

Word of the day: cap-a-pie ~ From head to foot; at all points.

Song of the day: For You I Will by Teddy Geiger.

" I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
and cannon ball into the water
I'm gonna muster every ounce of confidence I have
For you I will "

Starting the day, crappy style.

I’m always having this problem; how do you begin something which you can start telling it at any point and time? I know, well, basically I can always start with “Today was a bad day,” or “it was raining this morning”, but I’ve been thought to avoid clichés like the plague of impending doom, so it’s always a bummer trying to cook up a good beginning.

… wait, I just made a beginning, didn't i? *confetti*

Lol, alright, sorry. That was as cheesy as today’s pizzas can come. Well, they always say that the simplest solution is often the best, so here’s how I’m going to start;

This morning was a crappy morning.

Somehow I’ve taken to dally myself until I was late… real late. Alright, well, VERY late indeed. I took my time eating, bathing, packing up and wearing my socks. But that was the least of the crappiness this morning.

Because I’m so god damn fucking stupid today.

Well, a friend asked me to help him hand in his assignment for him (he had stuff to do in the afternoon), and I agreed. I mean, how hard/troublesome would it be? It would’ve been something a 5 year old with a drooling disorder can do, but wait, in case you forget; it was I, aka JE, taking this up. And when I take something up, I’m bound to screw it up somehow somewhere sometime, one way or another.

For today, I’ve managed to drop it into a FREAKING tiny gap between the seats and a divider (or something, I dunno what to call it) while riding the LRT. Fuck. It’s the freaking dumbest thing to happen. The worst thing was when I had to apologize. How do you apologize for something so fucking stupid that it can make the entire state of California puking at its idiocy (ok, I exaggerated, but it IS fucking stupid)? Well, I’m used to it… and I threw in a good amount of profanity (all directed at myself, of course). I’m forgiven, but I don’t think I can ever, EVER, forgive myself. *sigh*

That lose-envelope-into-fucking-gap rendered me very late to class, but the teacher didn’t seem to mind (my attendance was taken). And I managed to skip the questions. Not very good for my CGPA, but it’s a bummer when you’re asked to answer something you didn’t bother to study about, so I’m alright with it. It didn’t help with my mood, though, which was soon a class 3 tantrum a few minutes into lessons. 1 hour later, I was off paying bills at Maxis and heading home. Which means I traveled (to and fro) for 3 hours to attend a one hour nothingness. *cue laughter from Friends*.

Note this though; helping someone can make you feel GOOD. I’m skipping the details here for fear of branding myself as a hubristic fat-ass emblazoning his ‘kindness and empathy’ (but then again, I AM branding myself so, by saying this anyway). But it’s true, helping someone, especially random people in need of a little help heaving their suitcases up a flight of stairs or guiding the disabled folk down the corridor. What’s best was the Thank You and the occasional praise. It’ll most probably stamp in a silly smile on your face the whole entire day. And give you a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Very soothing.

So, here’s my usual Goodnight People, and if I may add allow me to thank you lot who actually took time to read something as mind-numbingly crappy such as this. Thanks .

Word of the day: genuflect ~ 1. To bend the knee or touch one knee to the ground, as in worship.
2. To be servilely respectful or obedient; to grovel.

Still reading: Staying Alive by Matt Beaumont.

Anime of the day: xxxHolic ep 13 (I think I missed episode 11 and 12… damn)

Song of the day: What Hurts the Most by Rascal Flatts.

“What hurts the most,
Was being so close,
And having so much to say,
And watching you walk away.

And not knowing,
What could’ve been,
And not seeing that loving you,
Is what I’m trying to do.”

Of optimisms and positivisms.

What’s gotten into me lately? It’s like some sort of optimistic-inducing bug has bitten me, rendering me in a state of being very cheerful (ok, I’m aware that I may not look cheerful if you’d happen to see me today). I’m positively happy and lively, I mean, in a consistent manner, not one of those on-off mood swings. I’m taking more time to blog now (a very blissful thing to do, mind. I don’t normally have the mood to blog daily). I’m thinking about her more and more daily (creepy, I know, but I can’t help it). I’m actually writing; not typing, mind. WRITING. As in using utensils on a paper. And we’re talking about fiction, monologues and songs here, not lecture notes or memos. Very unusual of me (being one who have a disdainful dislike for being a bad speller).

I’ve practically taken to singing on the streets (when I’m alone, of course, or far within earshot), sleeping, typing, making coffee for dad and cooking. I’ve been mentally making remarks of everything I’ve seen. I’ve been starting to ask more questions (which is always good, considering the line of my studies). I’ve taken larger but still unsuccessful attempts to try and engage her in a conversation (to be honest, there’s no difficulty in it. It’s just that I’m a tad little on the coward and shy side). And I’ve been dancing. Yes, dancing those darn (very feminine) wriggly-jiggly things I’ve picked up on my contemporary dancing lessons during my first semester. Thank mom for this. She’s been dragging me about trying to get her rock n roll steps right, and yesterday I had to dance with her in front of her colleagues. For demonstration. Embarrassment level 69. Still, strangely, it HAD been fun. And I did get praised for being sporting. Sporting? Seriously?

So, Tan Jee Yee, 19 years old, Diploma in Journalism student, world’s fattest idiot, social misanthrope and the apotheosis of useless and self-depressive males… now finds the world an oyster of optimisms and positivisms, was called ‘sporting’, has been told that he is loved, has fallen in love all over again, monologues with his mind and actually tried to take time to read his Malaysian Goals lecture notes.

You’d think that I’ve started taking crack during lunch breaks.

*sings* “Who will buy my beautiful morning? I’m so high I think I can fly…”

And Italy beat Germany in the world cup semi-finals. Great! I woke up and found my whole family (mom included. MOM!) yelling as Italy scored their second goal. Woohoo! Now that bet between me and my bro is evened up. Come on Portugal! Make my peanuts!

Well, if there is ONE thing that has made me a tad regretful was my stupid refusal to go and have pizza with the gals in class for lunch. Not only had I managed to char-keuh-teowed one of those rare chances of being able to spend time with her, I’ve somehow managed to tick\ Amanda off with my untimely stab at being an LSE. Not very smooth. Another day without progress. The rest of my entire life to go.

You know, now that I think of it, perhaps I’ve been living a life of being overly concerned with the consequences of my actions. I guess that it has something to do with the very horrible results of my several mistakes, and most of them tend to come back and give me a little old haunt. A poke in the memory, a reminder of painful and wounding errs.

I’ve been too much of a coward. I’ve been too afraid of the consequences to make a stand, or to take a risk. Time to courage things up. Time to make a difference. Time to make a risk.

(I certainly hope that I shall remember this resolution and not one day find myself reduced back to my pathetic state.)

Alright, now I’m going to sound very ambitious, but heck, I want to WIN something. Or at least attempt at winning, banking all my chances, you know, placing the best bet and hurling the very best I can muster (which is very little, sadly, but there is something, at least). I’ve been stagnant at these achievements thing for a little too long now. Time to try and do myself proud for a change.

There’s an upcoming book review competition, and I’m hoping to at least lap in a consolation price (I submitted one last year to my lecturer who wants it as a coursework assignment, and I didn’t win anything. So it was either 1) I suck or 2) he didn’t submit our stuff).

... which made me realise that I’m running the risk of not being able to make the Malaysian Young Writer’s competition. This is my last chance… oldest contending age is at 19. I hope it’s not past the deadline. So brush up the writing skills, JE. You’ve got some serious writing to do.

Anyways, if I’m not mistaken, there is a worldwide novel writing month or something, in which people pit themselves against themselves in trying to write a 50000 word novel before the end of the month. No prices, though, just achievement. And I want to DO it. The best excuse to get myself starting on my novels (all which will probably suck, though, but it’s something good to get off the mind. Unrealized ideas are a weigh in the mind).

Time for me to turn in… and see if tomorrow will still be an optimistic, happy day.

This, I gotta see.

Goodnight people.

Word of the day: apotheosis ~1. Elevation to divine rank or stature; deification.
2. An exalted or glorified example; a model of excellence or perfection of a kind.

Currently reading: Staying Alive by Matt Beaumont.

Song of the day: Complicated by Avril Lavigne.

Classroom monologue.

(Written during Malaysian Constitution lecture, in a notebook).

What am I doing here? I’m sitting here in a joy forsaken classroom listening to bespectacled female version of Professor Binns tonelessly chanting through things that I can never place my attention at, which is quite irresponsible of me, being one who pays to learn. So it is, on my part at least, a duty of mine to actually try and absorb whatever knowledge that is practically thrown at me right now. So focus, listen, and try not to write pathetic nonsense into this notebook. Do it for the family. Do it for yourself. Do it for HER.

…ok, remind me again of my attendance here, which I believe is well more important than slouching down on this book and penning things down with hopes of becoming the next Matt Beaumont (I deduce that if I keep this up, it’ll take me a fair 6 decades to finally be able write like him. 7 decades to write like Gaiman and 10 to write like Phillip Pullman). Damn you Matt Beaumont. You’ve completely influenced the very way I write and think, you freaking bastard. Curse you and your damn book, and curse myself for liking it.
Remind me that I’m here to study and not drift off into the land of Ivalice where rabbits play drums and pirates rule the skies, and TRY, for crying out loud, TRY to comprehend these things that I can’t seem to comprehend now (I may, you know, if I actually try). What am I doing here? I’m sitting here in a tormenting cell suffocating under this drawling drone of a crane-like lecturer and penning crap, while the girl I’m having a crush with is sitting 4 rows in front with her attention on full blast (or so I assume). Way to show dedication, JE. Way to show.

Alright, I give up. Now my eyes are already devoid of any lively colour; a shade of plain, morbid grey (save that figure sitting 4 rows ahead), as though the tastes of the world has been reduced to a metallic nothingness of immense boredom (save that sweet little thing sitting 4 rows in front).

Allow me to quote Remy Jones’ song:
SOMEBODY SAAAAAAAVE ME!!

Lethargy… my mind is drained of any will power. I might as well lie down on the table and doze away, and pray that I hopefully go unnoticed by the (seemingly) sharp eyes of the lecturer (and she might make some snazzy comment. Let’s not give her that privilege).

So what am I doing here again? Sitting lonely behind the class and lamenting the sad fact that the guys had ditched me for the sake of surviving this monotonous drawl of a lecture, and penning this thing down. So let’s change the question here a little; what can I DO here (I mean, apart from penning this, which I believe will be running out of things to say in a few moments)?

Ok, gather my options. What can I do? Sleep. No, not sleep. Apart from sleep. Listen. Can’t. Will bleed with severe depression due to overwhelming boredom. Perhaps I can settle myself in a 2 hour session drawing really crappy manga on the tables (do the class a favour, by inducing a little if not ugly art to liven things up). Ah, what the heck. Maybe I can try to list things out like what Matt Beaumont does, or Sophie Kinsella (now that I notice it, the two authors does have certain similarities, mainly their first-person perspective writing. Rachel, I need clarity).

What to list? Right. Nothing. As expected from the brain dead spectacle of JE the er…Brain Dead. The back of Isaac’s head is tempting me to stab it with a pencil. His hairs are literally brandishing banners saying “Stab me! I’m fun!” and “You know you want it. Just do it.” Whoa. Ok, now I’m hallucinating. Better lay off the fantasies and start listing.

Hence this list of lists of things I want to list:

1) Moments to confess to HER (which I have a feeling will always end up with something like this…)

(on a New Zealand hill overlooking a plain)
Music: “The hills are alive… with the sound of music…”

HER: (wearing something of a close resemblance to Julie Andrew’s dress) Oh, the beauty! Look at the flowers, and the wind! Oh, all so sweet!

ME: (in a Tux and James Bond British accent) But all of this… such trivial beauty… they cannot match yours. That dazzle in your eyes, that warmth of your smile…

HER: But surely none can compare to the beauty of summer.

ME: (whips out a ukulele, singing) “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds to shake the darling buds of May. Summer’s lease hath all too short a date…”

HER: *Swoon*

ME: I have always loved you, always.

(And the winds lift the dandelions across the horizon and into the setting sun, as a shower of spectacle rains down from the heavens illuminating two silent figures standing hand in hand on top of a hill…)

(Ok, pardon the cheesiness. FAT chance to happen. And I just remembered that she prefers coke machines to flowers and hills.)

2) How to think faster, answer smarter and not make myself look like a fucking fool.
(I doubt the usefulness of such a list).


3) Things to do if I happen to be diagnosed with testicular cancer.
- Confess to her. ASAP.
- Taste every single food in Malaysia.
- Finish up every novel that I have in plan.
- Travel the world.
- Watch every single great movie that I happen to miss.
- Confront Phillip Pullman and demand that he tell me what the fuck happens to Lyra and Will later in their lives (and if I’m unhappy, I’ll kill him with a BB gun).
- Walk up to JK Rowling and reads her ending to Harry Potter.
- Make requests so that my ashes are to be scattered across the south china seas, or perhaps poured over some hill in New Zealand.
- Have Daniel Powter’s You Had a Bad Day playing at my deathbed.

4) Things that make her look beautiful.
- Her smile.
- The cuteness in her smile.
- That look and smile she makes whenever she sees something so shockingly funny.
- The way she silently mocks the people she dislikes by muttering something in a discontented look.
- Her “Oh, I see” face.
- Her “Oh, I see. Whatever” Face.

(This list can go on for another 3 notebooks, so I guess I’ll leave it here).

5) Why she would never like me (this, I put a lot of emphasis in).
- My horrendous looks, physique and idiocy.
- My slacking, procrastinating behaviour (remediable)
- The boredom that I can severely induces.
- I’m about as charming as a blackboard with hair.
- I’ve seen a ton of other guys with her. All better looking, more charming, and closer. A chance? Nope.
- My utter stupidity.
- My cowardice.

I’m starting to wonder if I’m glancing at her too much.

Is this thing here all about her? Perhaps I’m thinking about her a little too much above the healthy level.

Did I mention how pretty she is with that hair of hers? The way she brushes her fringe… (I’ll list it under 4)

I AM thinking too much of her. Time to stop.

My sincerest apologies, lecturer. I have NOT been listening closely to you, hence I do not understand what you’re trying to say now. Please let me go home. Now.

Isaac’s hair is tempting me again…

It’s over? It’s finally over?

YES!

Now to go pay my bills.


Word of the day: emblazon ~ To deck in glaring colors; to set off conspicuously; to display pompously; to decorate

Currently reading: Staying Alive by… Matt Beaumont…

Song of the day: Save Tonight by Eagle Eyed Cherry.

Sick (sung according with the tune of Ben Folds Five’s Brick)

5 a.m., day after Sunday,
I finished up my damn report,
The smell of cold; air cond is freezing,
My bro is sleeping I am… not.

Amanda’s box was set to busy,
She must have been tired out,
I fried some ham, toasted some wholemeal,
Ate some egg and I was out.

And I drive…
Now that I’ve eaten up
But I’m feeling like a mould
Than I ever had… before…

I’m so sick and I’m sighing slowly,
Down the drain and I’m headed nowhere
I’m so sick and I’m sighing slowly…

The bloody pumps, they aren’t working,
Petronas can suck my sock,
The God damn jack was pretty fucked up,
My tire’s air is running out…

And I slept…
Now that I have eaten up,
But I’m feeling like a mould
Than I ever had… before…

I’m so sick and I’m sighing slowly,
Down the drain and I’m headed nowhere.
I feel like sick and I’m drowning in it…

As time went by,
It shows that work is not fine,
And dad came home, he screwed my ass like some shit,
No I’m not wrong, the tire’s long gone
And I was tired… of sighing.

Closing down my car’s compartment,
For a moment I’m alone,
I feel like mould,
I ate some mould.
Now I knew it…

I’m so sick and I’m sighing slowly,
Down the drain and I’m headed nowhere,
I’m so sick and I’m sighing slowly…

(Goodnight people)

Word of the day: Complaisant - exhibiting a strong desire to please; obliging; compliant.

Currently reading: Staying Alive by Matt Beaumont (dead slow progress)

Anime of the day: KIBA ep 13

Movie of the day: Monsters, INC.

Song of the day: Tonight, tonight, tonight by the Beat Crusaders