D'accord, une fois

A Thought!

2011-10-08T19:39:00.000+08:00

Que qu'un m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore serais ce possible alors.

When you get writers to write songs, there will be wit and brevity exploding subtly from every line.

My Magnum Opus

2011-10-07T20:21:00.003+08:00

This weekend (and perhaps next week if its not done in time) I will write my Magnum Opus (up to this point in time), an historical essay assessing the impact of the Cold War on the Arab-Israeli conflict from 1956-1979. I don't as of yet know what my points will be, but I know the style I would like to write my Magnum Opus in, an exploratory style. An essay which raises pertinent points and develops alternate points of view so that, rather than being just persuasive, my essay will leave the reader feeling he has been treated to many different angles and he will then come to the conclusion I have been nudging for all along.

And I hope I get to go to London in December.

Oxford!

2011-09-15T17:19:00.002+08:00

I got into Oxford! I've been accepted to study History! Yay yay! I am so happy! Using so many exclamation marks! My whole year of effort and hopes and anxiety and preparation has not been in vain! My life has been set on a stellar new course! They world is my oyster! Adieu Malaisie!

Practicing for January.

A Beirut September

2011-09-10T23:05:00.003+08:00

But never in a million years. One video of Zach playing his ukulele in Paris. Walking in the streets past a patisserie/boulangerie. Ukulele sounding dreamy as hell. Saying oui oui, then trailing it off with a weird laugh. Oh, it's The Penalty he's playing. I don't have that song in my library!

I hereby declare September 2011 to be Beirut September.

I solemnly swear to listen to Beirut until they are firmly wedged in my top 8 last.fm most listened too artists.

And Paris!

Hero

2010-09-26T23:03:00.002+08:00

Hello world. For the past two days I have been listening almost exclusively to Hero by Regina Spektor. Why? That is the question you must ask.

The only other song I have heard is U2's With or Without You. Must have heard it about 7 times today.

Mood Swings

2010-09-19T16:17:00.004+08:00

Yesterday night I felt like I was on the verge of Jian Eu 3.0, a brand new beginning to a better me and a better life. At night the thought I went to sleep with was carpe diem. Crazy stuff.

Today I feel like a sick parrot. I feel hopeless and I'm really considering deleting my facebook account. I want to withdraw from the world.

11.52

2010-09-14T11:51:00.001+08:00

Oh my God. I'm so screwed. I don't know what I am anymore. Like some jigsaw puzlle haphhazardly put together from many many jigsaws. I'm a bit of everything conflicted together and one graet jumble of influences.

Sense

2010-08-26T12:49:00.002+08:00

The artist sees the world differently. The painter looks at the world as though it were painted canvas. Notice the interplay of colours! It's even better with a shortsightedness of at least 200 in power. Without spectacles, the world looks as if it were an impressionist painting. Broad strokes, colours swimming around and into one another, nothing is sharp or well defined, everything an impression. And Stunning.

So the musician would hear the world differently too. That's why I regret not learning music.

2010-08-21T11:19:00.001+08:00

Today I feel trapped inside myself. But if I'm not me, then who else?

DELF

2010-08-17T18:59:00.001+08:00

J'ai decide prendre l'examination DELF B1 a Novembre.

Quiet Night Broken By Rain

2010-08-16T18:23:00.004+08:00

Climb along the rock face of the mountain. The steepness of this face is a little greater than 45 degrees. There are white ropes to hold on for safety. The ledge is not much more or maybe less than a foot. When you shine your headlamp down the side of the mountain, you can't see the bottom. It's very steep. If you slip you will probably slip down to the bottom, its a very long slide and too steep to stop yourself. It's 3 am in the morning.

It starts raining. Water runs off down the surface of the mountainside. Some of this has collected into a waterfall. Supin is asking us to hurry before it gets worse. I lose my balance and almost fall if not for the rope. Gloves are dripping and fingers start to numb. We make it down. Relief.

I prayed for safety. We didn't make the summit. Maybe next time.

The Sad Woman at Giant

2010-08-10T09:53:00.002+08:00

Yesterday we went to Giant to buy some Nature's Valley bars for the trip up Kota Kinabalu. At the cashier, a very sad woman was alone behind us in line. She was sad not because she was crying, not that kind of sad, but she was sad in a pitiful sense.

She was around her late thirties and she was dressed in her office clothes. It was 10 pm which meant she must have been working in late. She looked a bit like a gnome and she was very tightly strung. Her shoulders were bunched up and her movements were very jerky, like someone who is angry and about to cry. The worst part was that all she had in her basket were about 10 cans of Campbell's soup.

Holden Caulfield would have been depressed by this and I was too. Here was this woman who looked like she didn't have a partner and wasn't likely to have one. She had been working late, which was normal, and was extremely stressed out and all she would eat for her dinners were Campbell's soup. What type of life is that?

The night before I had dreamed that I was walking around Pusat Sirius. I recognized the place, it was somehow similar to what I remembered but all the rooms were larger, quite like Hogwarts. I was just walking around my old school but I couldn't stop crying. I remember walking through most of the classes, they couldn't see me as if i was invisible, and I recognized many of the people there and through it all there were tears coming out of my eyes and I was helpless to stop it.

The MJ Tribute

2009-07-16T17:40:00.002+08:00

My mom's Michael Jackson tribute has become official! She sent it to the Star and it was printed as the page lead for letters. For today, it is the most emailed article. It's big.

I guess I am proud.

I Think I'm Tired Therefore I Am

2009-07-14T20:43:00.005+08:00

I slept for twelve hours. Then I got up. Then I wasted some time and felt tired again. So I went up and read about Nietszche. I read about how God is dead. I read that humans had killed God. I read that Christianity is wasting our time.

Nietszche is heavy stuff. After that, I slept for three hours. I didn't dream about God or Nietzsche since I guess they're both dead.

So is Michael Jackson. I'm not going to write a tribute but here is a heart-wrenching, soul-tearing and tear-inducing tribute.

Means

2009-07-08T18:33:00.006+08:00

At class today there were two girls, sitting side-by-side, talking. A girl in the row behind tried to get into their conversation. "I know! But..." "My mom also does that..." "Its so annoyi..." "Ya! So dis..." She tried six times but everytime they just kept on talking. They cut her in mid-sentence and didn't bother to look her way.

So she finally gave up trying to talk to them and the two oblivious (or maybe not so) girls continued their bimbotic conversation. The girl who tried to enter the conversation worships one of the two girls-who-continued-talking.

A Break

2009-04-23T17:45:00.002+08:00

I don't think I will be updating my blog anytime soon. I'm announcing my self-announced sabbatical up till the first of July. So, there will be no updates till July 1. TTFN.

Who Watches

2009-03-19T18:22:00.009+08:00

Watchemn was not brilliant. It was good but not great. The movie followed the comic fram by frame but didn't manage to gouge the depth that the graphic novel has. But, maybe that's also because it was heavily censored.

The movie was quite funny. I laughed a few times. I was one of the only people who laughed though.

Four Corners

2009-03-05T22:52:00.004+08:00

In the family, all four of us have different opinions on the direction society is heading in. My sister has no real idea, my dad thinks it's going to get worse, my mom thinks we are on the brink of a golden new age of humanity's awareness and I think nothing's going to change.

I tried to change the way they think of the direction of the world, but nothing changed.

Flee From My Verboseness

2009-02-25T23:03:00.007+08:00

I, the authoritative author, am now penning upon this fluttery piece of parchment my concierge of thoughts. My thoughts assume a latticed structure, monolithic in size, with gleaming epifaces reflecting the facets of finely manufactured gemstone of immense value.

I have increased the boundaries of my vocabulary for this very purpose. With my incredible abilities grasped within my sword-hand, I smote and cleaved my foes into ominouos submission.

Thank God nobody of worth notice writes like this.

Language

2009-02-17T21:48:00.003+08:00

We met up with our future French teacher at MPH. It was an okay meeting. About eleven of us crashed into the book club. The whole table ordered only one teh tarik which made the waiters give us the look.

French classes are supposed start in March.

But, I wonder when and who I'll speak French to. In Jane Austen Book Club, there's a french teacher who loves to speak in French. Nobody understands her, so she comes across as showing off, which she probably is.

Eternal Life

2009-02-11T18:03:00.016+08:00

The announcement rang through the world. The trials of death, suffering and pain, were over. Disco Ball, President of the United States, stood tall as he announced to the world a moment of triumph for all humans.

He looked down on the multitudes before him and those he knew were watching him through cameras. This would be the most important speech ever given, and he was about to give it!

“The Bible tells us that God put a sword of fire to guard the tree of eternal life. Eternal life was something taken away from humans, never to be even tasted. Eternal life was the boundary between us and God. It was something to be given to us only if we did his will and proclaimed his greatness.

“After all our struggles, we have found the pinnacle, the holy grail, of life. A breakthrough in nanotechnology has given us a miracle cure. Every disease would be cured.

“But, we have found more than just a cure to diseases. We have found the secret to everlasting life. We have overcome the problem of death. Our quest is at an end. We have succeeded in attaining eternal life. The world has changed. Our world has changed.”

All it would take was an injection and all suffering would be gone. It was a magical solution, who wouldn’t want eternal life? Who wouldn’t want to end their suffering and pain? What we were denied was being given back to us again. It was ours to take. It was mine to take. I would take it.

All it took was an injection and we were guaranteed eternal life. Stations were set up at hospitals around the country, stations dubbed “Eternal Life” stations. Huge queues full of excited people waited. The stink of bodies pressed together was buzzed out of the mind by the excitement. After two days of waiting, I was nine people away from my injection. With sleeves rolled up, I entered.

Pristine white walls glared down at me in the room, as if to show that here we would be cleansed of our weaknesses. The sheer cleanness of the room was imposing. I received my injection and was sent out into a room filled with other patients.

I changed, I felt strong. I felt fresh as I hadn’t for years. Others around me were going through the same thing. Faces ravaged by the glare of screens were healed. Scars and wounds were gone as well. I left with the others, as homo superior, heirs to the earth.

Freg’s Coffe Café, my haunt. I stopped for a cup but also to have a chat with Dunbar. Dunbar was probably the only person who spent as much time as I did at Freg’s.

There he was, hunched over a cup of tea in his brown moleskin coat, with his face wet from the steam of too many cups. He had a rough face to match his rough voice. With a face like a grouchy Grizzly and the sheer size of him, you never missed Dunbar.

“Ah! Dunbar! Heard the news?”
“Could I not with everyone talking my ear off ‘bout it?”
“Good to see you’ve learned to cheer up. Have you gotten your-“
“No, can’t anyone ask something else?”
“You’re not excited?”
“You are?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“What’s there to be excited ‘bout?”
“Let’s see, no disease, no pain, and eternal life. You’re right, not much at all”
“Oh ha ha, that’s really sarcastic. No, I’m not excited.”
“Why not?”
“I’m looking forward to death. Why should I be?”
“Be what?”
“Excited.”
“Come on Dunbar! This is everlasting life, the fountain of youth!”
“That just doesn’t excite me at all.”
“You really do need to get excited more often then.”
“You should go and see Jasper.”
Father Cakes?”
“Yes, I see you haven’t heard the news,” Oh no! Here comes the teasing.
“…Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“You should find out by yourself, just head to church.”

Driving back, up-turned cars, dented cars, and bashed up cars littered the road. I suppose with the threat of death gone, nobody really cared for their safety anymore. I was speeding. So was everybody else. I was empowered by the force of sureness within me. I was indestructible. I was fearless.

Turn right, go past the park and take the left turn. 66, 6 Tibbles Street, I loved the irony of the church’s address, 666, the number of the devil. The feeling within the church was one of a constant struggle between both sides. Now it appeared the devil had won.

“Father, what are you doing?”
“I am burning the bibles.”

Father Jasper Cakes always spoke solemnly. He was the picture of solemnity, with simple clothes and a wrinkled face that was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. Just solemn. His chubby, bulldog face acted only to enhance his seriousness.

“I am burning the bibles,” he said with the air of someone drowning in happiness.
“You’re sick. You need to go to the hospital.”
“How can I be sick son, I cannot even die. I have been given the gift of eternal life.”

The raging fir of holiness crackled with the laughter of the devil. I stood there lost for words. Here was Father Cakes, the epitome of solidity and reliability humming to the Rolling Stones’ I Can’ Get No Satisfaction while burning bibles.

“You can’t do this. You…can’t."

I lunged to stop him but two other held me back.

“Will, religion was a great big scam. We have now challenged God, we are like God. We cannot die, like him. Face it, none of us knew if he was real anyways. Besides, he wouldn’t want us to gain eternal life anyways.”

The sky above boomed. But, if it was a chuckle or growl, I couldn’t decide.

* * *

One…Two…Seven…Sixteen

Off they jumped, one after another. Each landed in a burst of red and a crunch of bones, the number on the scoreboard increased, one by one. Slowly, the pavement turned red, then the road, and finally the pavement across.

Ninety-seven…One hundred sixteen…One hundred fifty-two

A voice announced to the millions watching around the world, “Look at them go! The record is in their hands now.” Down they plunged. The only difference was the squelching thuds replaced the crunching impact as the heap of corpses grew.

Two hundred nine…

“Four! Three! Two! One! Zero!” the crowd roared as the timer ended. Two and thirty-nine! It’s a new world record! The whole country celebrated as the United States regained the record for the most suicides in a minute.

Something wriggled, another twisted. The mangled bodies began to move. Broken arms rejoined themselves, crushed skulls rebuilt themselves. The whole mound moved as the corpses came back to life.

Danny Zbugz, the billionaire shouted, “Free drinks to all.”

Everyone in the street reached out for the free beer as more bones got broken in the stampede. Crunch, crunch, nobody cared, there was no lasting damage, why worry.

The beer was running out, it was clear there wouldn’t be enough for everyone. Bang! Bang! Another gunshot returned. Head were blown apart as people shot each other to get the last bottle of beer. The pavement grew redder, but nobody was permanently hurt.

I was disgusted and so was Dunbar. In the year since, scientists had managed to “inject” the substance into inorganic materials, so buildings were always spick and span, and your shirt never lost its button.

We watched it all. Through the giant three-dimensional screen in Freg’s, we saw the world grow mad as it enjoyed the harvests of eternal life.

We’d tried to talk to the President, but his secretary wouldn’t even pass on what we said to him. Disco Ball’s ratings were through the roof, an unprecedented 98% in approval ratings.

His familiar face flicked on the screen to give the slogan of his campaign.

“My fellow Americans, we are living the dream. Just remember, you still got to vote.”

Confidence oozed out of his face. Nobody predicted against him winning. Opposition only had a fumbler as their best candidate now that all their best members had switched sides.

One party rule ruled America. America ruled the world through its magic cure.

Yet, the world was sick. People shot each other in the streets, “Just for fun.” I myself had been shot seven times. Nobody did a thing stop it. All the offender had to do was say, “We, he isn’t hurt, is he?” and he would be left off scot-free.

Nobody valued life anymore. Life was cheap, since there was no more death. Blood could be replenished, broken bones would be mended, but something had been lost.

I would rather die and take my chances with God than live forever in a world like this. But, I can’t. There’s no cure to kill me.

Hum Drum

2009-02-11T15:03:00.005+08:00

The blog gets a new shot of determination. Posts will be regular, frequent, constant. This time, it will last.

Sinister Transparently Yellow

2009-02-10T21:46:00.005+08:00

My mom is sick. I am not.

But, I am forced to drink some Malaysian herbal drink. I haven't drunk it yet, but it's supposed to be very bitter. Imagine all the pain that could come from drinking a bitter drink. I could vomit, then I would have to eat again. Or maybe the bitterness will stay in my mouth so I won't be able to sleep.

Then, if I don't sleep, I'll be a zombie tomorrow. The whole day will skip past me while i daze around in a trance. While I'm not paying attention in class, the teacher might cover something important which I will miss. That might come up in the exam and I'll fail! Because I fail, I won't get into a University and I won't get a decent paying job. Then, I'll live the rest of my life in poverty and squalor.

The herbal drink plots to destroy all my hard work. My life, destroyed by some drink. Gah!

Book and Movie

2009-02-09T16:40:00.003+08:00

I finished Shopaholic Ties the Knot on Sunday morning. I only wanted to read it for a short while before going to sleep but I ended up sleeping at 6.30am.

Last night we went to watch Changeling. We wanted to watch Benjamin button, but at it was full. Even at 11am, the line was so long. I'm surprised that Benjamin Button was sold out. I thought it would be a niche movie and not many people would watch it.

I liked Changeling. It was too slow at the start, but the end-middle part was good. Especially as everything slowly reveals itself.

I also enjoyed Shopaholic, but the book is quite frustrating. Becky Bloomwood keeps on procrastinating her problems till her denial becomes silly. After all, everything will work itself out in the end.

In Real Life

2009-01-12T18:44:00.004+08:00

I was once held hostage by a crazy boy with a gun. Three of us were held hostage and he directed us into our place by grunts, waves and points. When we were slow he fired some warning shots.

We huddled together, trying to use each other as a human shield. He would point his gun at one of us, see the fear and laugh. He was living for the sense of power he felt and three of us were stuck like dead rabbits.

Actually, this happened during Chinese New Year in my aunt's tuition centre. The gunman was my cousin. The other two "hostages" were also my cousins. The gun in his hand was a BB gun. Not so bad, but this gun would leave a dense blue-black where you were hit.

In the end, he got bored of it. But, for good measure, he shot us a few times before he left.

Big Wind Coming

2009-01-09T22:08:00.003+08:00

The first week of school is over. Usually this won't matter a single bit to me but titanic, geodesic forces have been at work. So now I am attending a tution center which runs like a school. Five days a week and eight hours a day.

The report so far is that I have survived. But it was exhausting. Very exhausting to the point of insufficient funds.

The school is in a secret location I shall not divulge. I have been attending Malay and Chinese classes. I have very little idea or no idea what is going on most of the time during these classess.

My first assignment:

Cita-cita saya dan sepuluh langkah saya akan mengambil (to achive them)

Cita-cita saya belajar dan cakap enam bahasa ramai-ramai dengan banyak kuat-kuat.

1. Langkah pertama saya ambil ke dalam sekolah ini.

2. Langkah kedua saya ambil ke dalam bilik kelas ini.

3. Di dalam bilik kelas saya akan belajar Bahasa Melayu, Ingerris dan Cina dengan tenaga

4. Jadi, saya akan belajar tiga lagi bahasa. Saya boleh pergi ke mana-mana dan cakap dengan semua orang.

Do not notice the grammatical errors and choice of words.

Merry Boxing Day

2008-12-26T15:05:00.001+08:00

Remember, if you haven't, get me a present because I just might have one for you.

Presents

2008-12-23T23:09:00.003+08:00

I didn't actually want to buy a lot of gifts. But then, one gift leads to another and so on and on. I end up buying the most gifts in the family.

The budget was RM50. All the expensive gifts, gifts more than Rm10, are for family. Those for friends are all under RM3. But they are good.

I think that's something I've enjoyed, a lot. Shopping for gifts around RM1. Then, you have to get very creative. Also, the tags are great fun. A chance to be witty, festive and fun. Hahaha.

Im looking forward to Christmas.

Just Flat Incumbus

2008-12-18T11:00:00.005+08:00

The spectre of the MOUNTAINTOP EXPERIENCE! You go to a Christian camp and your spirituality and relationship with God climbs. Preferably on the last day, you peak. Then on, its downhill all the way.

I just came back from a Youth camp. I didn't enjoy it. I don't feel any spiritual perk.

It just didn't work for me. Though I know it worked for others.

I didn't feel God. It was just me and the abyss. And when I looked into the abyss, the abyss looked back at me.

Movie

2008-12-10T23:31:00.003+08:00

A quick note before turning in, I went to watch Space Chimps.

It is one-of-a-kind. Words cannot describe it. I suggest everyone watch it for an unforgettable experience.

Moochers Theorem

2008-12-10T11:24:00.002+08:00

Finally, I put into writing the unofficial theorem that all like-hearted moochers around the world have always known. Perhaps you are a moocher the moment you are born. Or do you grow into one because of your environment?

We're talking about the laws of psychology and sociology here. I don't even know what those laws are. All I know is that mooching is the highest point of self-sufficiency that can be reached.

Mooching is not begging. Begging is asking for money. It is crude, rude and uncivilised. Mooching is an art.

The best moochers mooch without slipping out a word. A slight jerk to the hamburger of choice or a smile to the potato chips.

So here is the theorem:

You have go out with 8 friends and each friends buys a burger at McDonald's. From each friend you take a bite. One bite is equivalent to 1/8 of a burger. How much would you have eaten if you mooched a bite from every friend?

A whole burger! Plus, you would have eaten the most burger of all your friends because they would be left with 7/8 of their burger.

Young Writers' Camp

2008-12-08T16:28:00.004+08:00

It's been almost one week since I've returned. Whatever after-camp hangover is over. So, I write this with a sober mind.

YWC 2008 was a writing camp. Last years camp was much more relaxed, we only wrote one piece in four days. This year, I wrote four pieces in as many days. Last year there were sessions and lots of play time. This year there were sessions and deadlines, stress and facilitators pointing to the clock, shaking their heads and asking you to hurry up.

Over the blood, sweat and hands of time we clambered to hand in our articles. Then we waited to see if it was published. Front page? Back page?

Throughout the camp I was always looking out for stories. There was no rest, there was no relent from the gnashing teeth of the newspaper!

But, I enjoyed myself.

I enjoyed writing. I enjoyed trying to find a story that nobody else would write about. I enjoyed laboriously trying to put it into words.

However, I suspect I might have liked writing so much because my pieces were published. I think some didn't enjoy it because they just weren't very interested in writing and they're articles were cut so they felt left out.

The Onion

2008-12-03T17:02:00.007+08:00

A story I wrote in YWC:

There was once a tiny little onion bud. Luckily, for this onion bud, it had a really good farmer. Everyday the farmer would come and feed it water and fertilizer.

In the ground, the onion and its friends grew with the tender care of the farmer. They learnt the hardship and goodship of friendship. They matured with time and put on layers. Together, they grew.

Then, one day, they were plucked from the ground. They were shocked, but they trusted their farmer. They were carried into the big place where the farmer lived and put on a wooden board.

The farmer peeled them, then started to dice them. "Help! Ouch! Ow!" they screamed in their oniony voices. They didn't understand this, the farmer they trusted was hurting them! The farmer heard some pleading voices, shrugged and brought the knife down again.

In Flesh and In Blood

2008-11-19T13:08:00.003+08:00

I got tickets! I got tickets! Actually, a tag.

A tag to the VIP seats. To the VIP seats for Federer's exhibition match. Federer's exhibition match!

I wasn't invited, yet. I went with a friend. There was a VIP hospitality area with gilded furniture an a whole buffet to eat. But, it wasn't that good anyway. The food was only so-so.

We got court side seats. Court side seats! Closer that ten steps from the players. Close enough to see the hair on their legs!

For me, what was intoxicating was to see them up close, in flesh and blood, in person. This was the Federer. The Roger Federer that kept me up till four am, watching him play that final in Wimbledon. Its bizarre.

Sprinkle some stardust on me.

Geez.

I also got to see Najib's wife. They went onto the court to meet the players and she walked right by us. Close enough to shake hand. She's fat, massive. So big she was teetering and tottering. On the way down, she stumbled. Three men held her.

Tropic Thunder

2008-11-19T13:04:00.002+08:00

Give it a chance. I didn't like it either on my first viewing. But the movie is like wine or pu-er tea. It ferments to become better. You start with something that feels wasted, let it rot a bit and end with a very hilarious show.

Up there with Blades of Glory and Hot Fuzz.

Also, I realized I have only written 20 posts this year. Shame.

To Readers

2008-11-18T15:05:00.002+08:00

Please feel free to leave comments.

The Management

More About Me

2008-11-15T19:13:00.003+08:00

Instructions:
Bold the statements that are true to you.
Italicize the statements that you wish were true.
Leave the fibs alone.
Then, stab 5 people to do the same test

I’m 170cm tall.
I don’t know what I want at the moment.
I’m not happy.
I hate my friends.
I hate my life.
I hate my grades.
He drives.
I’m bored of driving.
I have a white handbag.
I love dancing.
I go clubbing every week.
Shopping is bullshit.
I have a tatoo of a star.
I got my navel pierced.
I have friends that take drugs.
90% of my friends smoke.
I still hang out with my ex, even though our break up was rather nasty.
I'm studying fashion.
I have a business running.
I hate cartoons.

I hate someone.
I have 10 Guess handbags.
I buy CLEO every month.
My parents don't know about my blog.
I have an iPod.
I don’t have faith in the current “one”.
My school mates know about my blog.
I wanted to be a fashion designer.
I love rock emo bands.
I hate it when people cancel last minute meet ups.
I’m a rebel.
I’m starting to like wearing dresses.
I don’t believe in love.
High school's filled with drama.
My parents have faith in me.
I’ve bought shoes this month.
A blogger bitched about me before.
I hate sports.
I heart Italian food.
I hate meeting new people.
I hate nail polish.
The mother bear gives me hugs.
People should start appreciating me.
High school was the worst time of my life.
I have red hair.
One Utama is my second home.
I’m a guy.(sometimes?)
I’m scared of my Biology exam.
I hate vacations.
We’ll last.
I believe in long distance relationships.
I’m going to get high and smoke weed one day soon.
I’ve robbed an old lady.
I’m starting to like applying make-up.
I was a tomboy.
At times I think I still am a tomboy.
I love bitching about people behind their backs.
I still have a best friend.
I have a cat.
I hate surprise parties.
I hate planning parties.
I’m hot.
I’m a sinner.
I’ve got a DS light.
I have a Wii.
I can live without music.
Video games are a waste of time.
I miss the father bear.
I love being in love.
I know how to cook.
I have 100% freedom.
Boys are assholes.
I hate Math.
I love horror films.
I’m happy with what I have.
I slept in my parents’ room for 3 days after watching Scream when I was a kid.
My old friends keep in touch with me.
I don’t read newspapers.
The news is such a waste of time.
Blogging is a waste of time.
I hate animals.
I can’t live without make-up.
I curse like a pirate.
I’m happy with my 11 year old car.
I hate people that are smart.
I love Apple Juice.
I can’t drink for nuts.
I believe that everyone in their teens have lost their virginity.
I’ve got a new phone.
I’m going to get a new pair of shoes by the end of this month.
I love swimming.
I haven’t worked out since March.
I think I’m fat.
I love my friends and family.

ethan/ron/ii-ern/liesl/samuel

Dark Side of the Moon

2008-11-09T22:20:00.005+08:00

We only see one side of the moon because the moon doesn't spin, revolve, change, turn upon its axis. We only see one side. The side the moon shows us.

The eyes are the window to the soul. All you see is this mask but behind this mask is a face, behind this face is a soul and most souls have become inherently troubled dark, damp and mouldy places. Left to fester, the shadows grow, creepers creep from the dark places.

People and their problems.

Yesterday, some people joined us for dinner. Dinners are supposed to be happy, laughing occasions. This was emotionally charged. Emotions spilled onto the table like guts and gore. Tears welled, voices rose and there were the insecure shouts of , "I'm alright. I'm okay." Of course you are.

I ran away into the madness and delved into my math. There the craziness couldn't touch me One plus one is two.

They say the world has changed. I would have called anyone insane who would rather put his child in school than homeschool. Now I don't know.

I used to think of homeschool as Excalibur to come swishing down upon the hard grease our inept education system. Like a hot sword through butter, the best of all solutions in this best of all possible worlds.

Now I don't think so. Recent experience has revealed to me that a lot of homeschoolers are cracks. So this makes schooling better than homeschooling? Nein. I also think a lot of schoolers are zombies.

Basically, a lot homeschoolers are the aliens from mars, they don't belong, and schoolers are zombies, without the spark of individuality that makes us human. One plus one makes two. So two is: Malaysia is full of kwaks.

Sometimes, I feel as if I'm going mad, my disillusionment with people and my faith.

Frodo says it all, "It's like the light and darkness are fighting inside me and, Sam, I don't know which is going to win." No, he didn't say that, but I think it fits.

Lord, deliver us from evil.

Laughing My Way Through Life

2008-10-03T21:35:00.004+08:00

Not literally. Rather, just being able to let go and have a lot more fun.

Last year, I said that the most significant change to me was my new decision to laugh my way life. Some people frown, others scowl but I decided I wanted to laugh. I wanted to be an optimist who saw the glass as half full and then cracked up laughing because the water was just so funny.

Mental but great.

There are many kinds of laughter. Fake laughter, covering laughter, mean laughter and twinkling, genuine laughter. For me, the best kind is Dumbledore laughter. Twinkling, honest and the eyes quietly delighting in something. Morgan Freeman has this.

When I say I want to laugh, I want to either laugh hilariously or laugh like Dumbledore.

Optimists live longer than pessimists. I think its because pessimists see the all the bad in the world and have some kind of heart attack or lose the will to live. Optimists see all the bad but also see the good and how to get past the bad, finding a joy to live for rather living for fear of death.

I came to laughing my way through life because I decided that, if I had to go, I would go laughing. The worst way would be drowning the best, laughing till my heart stops and my veins burst.

Yes. That's how I would like to go. Or at least how I would like to live.

Not to worry or frown or scowl or scold but to laugh. To laugh and be amused by everything around me so that my last act will to have one last laugh with death.

2008-10-02T14:19:00.000+08:00

When Ethan's Back

2008-09-10T15:46:00.004+08:00

To get things rolling along again, I will write about our dear friend who went to NS and had probably the worst time in his life.

About six weeks ago, we had a sleepover at his place. After that I asked him if he enjoyed it. He replied, "I'll never be truly happy or truly enjoy myself until this whole thing is over." Well, it's over now. And has he been truly happy or truly enjoyed himself?

I don't know.

I don't know because I haven't met since his return.

But it's good to have back our sarcarstic friend. Now we wait and see how long the sympathy milk will flow for him, or whether he will stoop down to milk it.

A Boy (and his cookies)

2008-07-26T19:53:00.003+08:00

Lord, may I never become one.

May I never become a boy? I am not a boy? Not a boy but A-Boy, someone whose main objective in life is to score A's whatever examination it might be.

Oh, I could. With me taking the IGCSE what-cher-may-call-it, full days fly by just studying, something quite alien to me.

Tsk. Tsk.

I'll continue much the way I am. The little imp that waltzes about upsetting toes and having a maniacally good time. A little like the joker maybe, just without the menace and violence. None of that for me.

On a less serious note, but more ominious, Ethan's going back to NS again. He's going back with a couple of tubs of chocolate-chip cookies to buy some more friends. For all his innocent lamb-ness he's either very afraid or milking as much affection and sympathy from us.

No Joy At 5am

2008-07-08T17:57:00.002+08:00

I say this proudly. Proudly, but with a bittersweet, disappointed-ness. I watched the Federer-Nadal final live, the final that has had everyone who watched it gushing with shock and awe. The great Federer-Nadal final, or should it be Nadal-Federer?

Nadal won. That doesn't make me happy.

I was in the Federer camp and it was agonizing. The match spanned seven plus hours. Nearly five hours of play and about two hours of rain delay. The match was also truly superb.

But, it wasn't just great tennis, it was superb because of the emotional storm whipped up. In tennis, I am a very ardent supporter of anyone I decide to support. For five hours I was cheering, rooting, praying for Federer to win.

"Come on, Federer"

"Go, Roger"

So I stayed up till 5am and he lost in the end. Bleh.

Amber in a Vase

2008-06-13T23:28:00.002+08:00

Today is my moms 45th birthday. So old! I keep getting flashes of the future when all this will be gone and I am living an adult life.

Anyway, because it's her birthday, we all got her a gift. My sister made her two shrinky-dinks earrings and my present to her was a vase. It was an IKEA vase that she had chosen, I wasn't even there when she had bought the vase.

I think she had a fine birthday. For breakfast she was treated to J. Co. Donuts by a friend. For dinner she was taken to a Korean Barbecue (RM50 for a few slices of meat!) by my dad.

Of course, I had to poke her a bit by asking if I could tag along. When she said no (in a kind, don't-want-to-hurt-your feelings-way) I go into self-pity. "I haven't had fine dining for suuuuch a long time."

But I really couldn't go anyway, since today is the deadline for two huge pieces of work, my portfolio and school. I was in cruise control until I found out I had a test to do I had overlooked. So it was rush, rush.

But I did everything on time, then I turned my attention to her present. How do you personalize something that you hadn't bought and that you saw second? It was a vase like a wine bottle. So I decided to fill it up with tea and cork it.

Did that. Gave it to her. But, it ended up with my sister and I drinking her tea.

More Expensive Fuel Please

2008-06-10T22:55:00.003+08:00

I am an environmentalist. I am probably the only real environmentalist I know. Like Lisa Simpson in The Simpsons Movie, I go around knocking on doors trying to spread the message and getting those doors slammed in my face.

Fuel prices went up last week from RM1.92 to RM2.70. There are rumours that they might even crank up the meter to RM4 by July. If Malaysia is crying now because of a 78 cent increase, Malaysia will be wailing hysterically when it goes up to RM4.

I don't own a car so I'm not feeling the pinch as everyone else is. I'm not going to own a car anytime soon so I'm not worried about the price going up to RM4. In fact, I'm not worried at all.

My position is that Malaysia has been incredibly selfish. Children who are sheltered and pampered become spoilt. The Malaysian government has been the spoiler parent, covering up its precious rakyat from the terrors of the world market. More expensive fuel? We'll keep the prices low for the people by subsidising it with...the people's money!

My mom says the the increasing fuel prices is BN's vendetta against us. I say that it was bound to happen anyway. I'm actually pleased that fuel prices are going up.

Global Warming is a touchy subject but I believe that it really is real. I believe that it is a problem that has been thrown to humanity to solve. I also believe that it would take something big to change the mindset of people and nations.

Nothing seems to have worked so far. Trying to educate people, tugging at their heartstrings with images of polar bears drowning out of a lack of ice. But money might just do it. If money is the root of all evil, this time it could be the root that makes the broth that saves us.

So that's why I'm actually glad of more expensive oil, because it will force the world to reconsider itself.

Visual Snow

2008-05-13T14:34:00.003+08:00

Visual snow is when your vision becomes white, spotty and flecked. Like the effect you get when you look into a bright light and then turn away, just that this time it's white, not blue or red.

I get those quite regularly, its a kind of short migraine. First comes the aura of the impending attack. Then you lose vision as the visual snow freezes in, and while this happens your head throbs, and pulses. I lose control to do anything.

It only lasts about 15 seconds, but its a horrible fifteen seconds. About six months ago it was at its worst. I even fell down once.

Now, I don't get them very often. If I'm honestly honest with myself, there's probably a link between computer and this. It was at its worst when I was using the computer the most. It got better when I cut short the amount of time spent in front of the com.

If I'm going to be so honest with myself it would be divine, I'll tell you there's a direct link between the migraines and computer games. Today, I got up and started on the computer immediately. Now, I'm left with a dull throbbing headache.

Jian Eu, Jian Eu. Very weak teeth, sinus, sleeping problems, migraines, poor eyesight and a perforated eardrum.

Snapping Turtle

2008-05-07T21:00:00.004+08:00

Snap! Snap! Snap!

I feel like Harry did in Order of the Phoenix.

Hmphf! I'm an angry little adolescent, my godfather and friends feed me little hints but don't tell me anything substantial. I'll teach them and send Hedwig after them.

Don't mess with me or i'll snap at you with my powerful beak. I'm a snapping turtle with a loud, painful snap and I'm not afraid to use it. In fact, I sometimes snap too often at people when I didn't mean too. I give them wounds which I'm sorry for.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Those Happy Gays

2008-04-20T20:52:00.002+08:00

We took Bingo for obedience training today. It was a group class by the Malaysian Kennel Association and there were all manner of dogs there. Big German Shepherds and tiny Jack Russels. There was a Rottweiler who was raining down slobber. As it panted, down came saliva drops. When its owner took it away, the spot where it had been was dotted with its drool.

I always thought Bing to be beautiful but there were two other American Cockers who were dazzling. Beautifully groomed and with such a shine on their coats. Bings looked so bedraggled in comparison.

One of the Cockers were owned by two men. Yes, yes. Strange that two men who aren't brothers would share a dog. We think that they are gay, since they seem to be real close and a little wierd, as in loving, in their behaviour toward one another.

Strange day.

Zombies and No-Sleep

2008-04-17T16:03:00.004+08:00

Lets. See.

Two totally sleepless nights, six months of nightmares, three years of inability to sleep without a night light on and a perpetual fear of ghosts and such that scare me stiff and keep me awake through the night. Thinking, imagining, a black hand creeping from under the bed or a zombie skulking up the stairs.

I have an incredibly real imagination. If you see me sitting still for twenty minutes or so, I'm not really there. I traipse among the stars or go visit heroes of history. I fight orcs or push Frodo into Mount Doom. It's all fine and high during the day, but I turn from hunter to prey at night.

Monsters cut in half crawl and sew themselves back together, then they skulk and stalk me. Pontianaks clatter against the window, seeking a hole to enter through. The night is thick with my fear.

This started a long, long, long time ago. The list at the start is as real as I can remember and started in Taiping. PlayStation 1 was the only PlayStation then, so I was about seven. They, my cousins, were playing Resident Evil. I was scared out of my wits but I stayed and watched with horror, the same horror of a rabbit caught in headlights.

That night left an impression.

I stayed away form any horror after that. The nightmares were horror enough. The challenge was sleeping. Having a light on was fine, but once my eyes closed I was back in the dark. When I didn't sneak into my parent's room, I lay with my eyes open for as long as possible. They would gain weight but I held them up. Soon, I drift into an open eyed sleep and then only would my eyes close.

I still remain cautious regarding horror movies, but there's no lethal poison left in it for me now. At most, maybe a restless night or two. The lights go off but they don't come much anymore. If I suddenly get caught in a spasm of fear, I turn on the light and the shadows fade away.

Black Butt Bingo

2008-04-13T17:21:00.002+08:00

My dear lovely dog has got a growth on her butt. It started before she went away and was just a tiny Little pinprick, so that we didn't bother with it. We were much too happy to get her back to worry about a pinprick of blackness.

Leaving for CNY, we first glimpsed the hilarious errrm...thing. She sits and then lifts up her legs so that she is resting on her butt. Then, she uses her front paws to move forward, rubbing her butt as she drags it along. Ta-daa!

Then, the black spot grew. First, the skin underneath the fur grew reddish, the fur would fall out until only a few strand remain and the skin would turn black. Whole areas were colonized rapidly so that a pinprick turned into a spot and into huge patch of lumpy, black, disgusting, populi skin.

I say populi because it is not flat skin, but filled with little hills. Little lumps which, when you squeeze, gives way like a ripe pimple, shooting out a jet of oil/pus. So we set to squeezing. We've squeezed it nearly dry.

Now its still growing, but we've started putting tea tree oil on it and it's getting better. We think it's gotten pinker, but maybe we're just looking through pink colored glasses.

Election Mathcraft

2008-03-17T10:57:00.002+08:00

I don't get it. I just don't get at all why everyone is so amazed at the election results. People talk about a political tsunami, but I don't even feel a wave. Not just feel, I don't see anything that amazing.

It just doesn't add up. Barisan Nasional's two-third majority hasn't even been broken. Sure, Opposition came within one or two seats of breaking it, but they didn't break it.

So there is nothing to cheer about.

Three Hundred and Fifty-Six

2008-01-14T14:25:00.000+08:00

I killed 356 mosquitos last year (number is accurate by a margin of 10), but I fell 9 short of my goal to kill 1 everyday.

It sounds sick that I count the number of mosquitos I kill, but I'm proud of the number. Not everybody can kill that many.

I love mosquitos. Rather, I love killing mosquitos. Especially when they fly so fast that they become a blur. You reach out and clap your hands together, and found you killed the little sucker.

bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

Bingo's Back

2008-01-08T17:39:00.000+08:00

We got Bingo back, in case you don't already know.

Actually, yesterday we received a call from someone claiming to have her. That was wierd because we got her back almost a week ago.

Happy? New Year

2008-01-06T19:39:00.000+08:00

Some sang Old Land Sign. Bottles of wine were popped open to herald the coming of 2008, or probably the end of 2007? Almost everyone participated in the countdown.

Well, I didn't.

I spent my New Year scouring the streets in Taipan (a large commercial area beside my neighborhood) looking for my dog. I spent the last few moments of '07 calling out, "Bingo, Bingo."

I woke up determined to give '07 a worthy sendoff, yet I spent its dying moments cursing it. There was no celebration for me. The ushering in of '08 can hardly be called a "happy" new year, not with Bingo missing.

Actually, I spent the final moments of 2007 next to a pub. I heard the countdown, then the cheers, and then the wishes. I heard and I was disgusted.

Maybe not being part of the fiesta but in a state of grief and guilt let me have a look at the pointlessness of Happy New Years. There is nothing concrete about New Years. The bubble bursts and life comes down flooding back on you.

You make resolutions that you forget by next week. The feel good feeling dissapears by tommorow. Life seems worse than ever.

The first time I had a Sad New Year, I find myself stronger and much more resolute than I have ever been before. It is not in joy, but in pain, that we truly grow. What's the point of feeling good for a night if tommorow the world is worse than ever? What's the use of drinking your troubles away?

Whether the new year is happy or not depends on how you take the pain and joys. Which you notice, and which you overlook. It's how you take it, not what you get, that determines how "happy" a year is.

Wishing you the best in 2008

Lost Dog

2007-12-31T20:57:00.000+08:00

Bingo (my dog) is missing. She is probably around the USJ area.

If you see her please call 016-3221679.

This is hardly a joke.

Memo to a Patriot

2007-12-26T17:08:00.000+08:00

Fight for you country.

Malaysians must be willing to die for their country if any war is started. No, Malaysians are willing to die for their country.

It is only the great patriotism of our civilians and soldiers that allow to sleep in our beds in peace. It is only the knowledge that we are a great, united nation that keeps us restful. It is only the knowledge that we are willing to die for our country that keeps us peaceful.

Study for you country.

Getting straight A's is very important. We Malaysians must be willing to sacrifice so that they might bring academic glory to Malaysia.

If every student studies hard enough, they will score high enough. Don't push the blame on anything else, especially not the government. It is all the students fault if they do not achieve top marks, they didn't study enough.

Work for you country.

Work with an eye on the profits. Money is everything. Work hard to bring riches to Malaysia, which will be used for the benefit of the people of Malaysia.

It is important to work with sincerity, especially do not go snooping around as that is insincere. Mind your own business and pay your taxes, that is all that matters.

Peaceful for you country.

Do not join in illegal activities if the government does not back them. Do not disturb others in Malaysia. Be keepers, not disturbers, of the peace.

It is not the Asian way to demonstrate in riots and perform acts of civil disobedience. Asians sit at home and accept the pain. It is only westerners like Ghandi who call for acts of defing the govvernment.

Not quite the end.

Notes:

This was written in a surge of patriotism after the author returned from horrible, backwater Singapore. The author is proud of his country after comparing the two.

In Johor Bahru, no cars stopped to let an old man cross the road. In Singapore, a car braked to allow an old man cross.

Your Presence, Not Your Presents

2007-12-16T18:24:00.000+08:00

The Christmas tree is up, assorted with hand painted ceramic angels and santarinas. Ribbons hang from it, golden lights string it, and right at the top is Woofie (soft toy dog) with a ribbon around her/his neck.

It's a little different from our normal tree, on which everything that passess as an assortment is thrown on it. This year we have a theme. This year we won't have presents.

I won't be around here for Christmas. I won't be giving out any pesents, and I don't expect to receive any.

So, no presents for me. Please, please, please don't get me anything.

Vu Deja Vu Deja

2007-12-02T17:32:00.000+08:00

I set out to have lots of fun. I set out knowing I would have fun. I would enjoy every moment the way I enjoy every lick of an ice cream. There would be no need for sleep. My laughs would keep me awake.

But Maxwell Hill 2 was the same as number one. It wasn't even half as fun as number one. It was deja vu gone wrong, screwed up, messed up.

Going on a trip expecting to have loads of fun is probably the one way not to. The trip was suicided by our attitude and by our reason for going. Fun just isn't nearly a good enough reason.

Throughout the trip, it was as if we had done everything before. The train ride was not novel, neither was climbing up Maxwell Hill. Without the freshness, there just wasn't excitement. No excitement, no fun.

By the middle of the trip, I was wishing to come home.

The trip had sad incidents. I kicked someone till he cried. We saw a man whack a boy in McDonald's. We lost a friend. We got irritated by some of the people we expected to laugh along with.

The group split into two. The Handphone Gang didn't care much for cards, human interaction, or board games. Getting the highest score at Jaws! was much more important. The Handphone Gang didn't care for Taboo since it didn't involve talking about hidden parts of the human anatomy. The person I kicked till he cried was from the Handphone Gang.

But what got us most was two sibling's who are too close to each other and a friend who has changed too much to remain friends anymore.

We had hormones, we had witticisms. We just didn't have any fun.

I could barely stay awake.

Let It Rain. Let It Rain. Let It Rain.

2007-11-26T14:57:00.000+08:00

Torture.

Torture.

Somebody who likes to make cynical observations will say that we will enjoy anticipating Maxwell Hill 2 more than the trip itself.

It was a shock to find out that the trip was less than two weeks away. Then, even the weeks went and we counted by days. Only four days left!

Four days, three days, tomorrow, we dropped the days and went for hours. 48 hours, 24 hours. Now we're less than five hours away.

If this were a book, the character would have sworn the clock was moving slower. The DOTA game! Bohnanza! I packed my bag this morning. So did quite a few others. Five days of endless playing and frolicking. Considering how slow time stretches on, it seems to boundless, endless.

Yet, the most realistic person in our EYAA group (His name starts with an E) remarks that it will all be over before we even know it. Sounds like a bad thing, but it just proves how much fun we expect to have, we know we will have.

Torture.

Torture.

The Cold that Traveled

2007-11-06T14:15:00.000+08:00

I have a cold. I am breathing through one nostril because the other is blocked. Earlier, I was breathing through my mouth because both nostrils were blocked.

This is extremely sad because I battled with a sinus problem for the better part of this year. Sleeping on two pillows and having trouble hearing what everyone else was talking about, all in a day's work.

But, it cleared, eventually, and I was happy. I had my time under the sun. Only to be afflicted again.

I blame Ethan, I blame Bangkok.

Yes, it all started with Ethan in Bangkok. Goodness knows how he got the disease, but he passed it along. From Ethan to A. Sook Ching to Elliot. Eventually, reaching me.

From Bangkok to KL, Thailand to Malaysia, this flu has traveled. Five people down so far, spanning three families and two countries.

I know it's unsavory to wish ill on people, but I am already looking on with anticipation at how many more will fall.

It may not be bird flu, but it means just as much to me.

Two Eyes Looking Over My Shoulder

2007-10-25T17:35:00.000+08:00

I have two eyes looking over my shoulder. They belong to Jian Lin.

It happens that these two eyes almost always manage to find themselves onto the stool behind me. Always when I am using the computer for something other than school. Two eyes that must shooed away and, even then, will come back.

Two eyes looking over my shoulder while I am chatting, blogging, and gaming. It appears the owner of these two eyes does not enjoy using the computer so much as watching me use the computer.

Two eyes and a mouth to report back on what I did, who I chatted with, and what I said. What did I play? How long? Shoo! Shoo! Away the two eyes go, back they come.

These two eyes, I suspect, hide a bored brain. Or maybe a brain that finds more pleasure in watching others than taking part herself. It must be pleasure. Certainly there can't be more meaning. Or maybe this person is just like that. Goodness, some people are.

"I smell feeesh! I smell feeesh."

Away go the two eyes to look over a different shoulder. To look over my mom's into a frying pan. Back come the two eyes.

And then the mouth gets restless and starts to sing.

"Two eyes looking over my shoulder. Two eyes looking over my shoulder."

The hands join in the fun and start to beat to tune on my shoulders.

There are two eyes looking over my shoulder, they certainly belong to Jian Lin.

Cruelty, Be Kind

2007-10-22T13:19:00.000+08:00

Slap. Turns other cheek.

Slap. Turns other cheek.

Slap. Turns other cheek.

To slap someone three times when they have done hardly anything to offend you is hardly something I would consider clever, witty, brave, marvelous, or satisfying.

Especially when that other person is offering his cheeks.

Die! Die! Die!

2007-10-19T17:26:00.000+08:00

Life is totally pointless in the long run. That was agreed. News today, gone tomorrow

What you do will be washed away by time. It may take thousands of years but time will eventually eat up everything.

This thing all things devours:
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats high mountain down.

In 200 years, there will be nothing left to mark our existence but a tombstone decaying, probably flowerless. Our names will disappear from memory. It doesn't matter what you do, you will eventually be forgotten and cast into the shadows where the dead roam.

Resign yourself to the fact that nothing you do matters. We are like gusts of wind. We blow, make ourselves felt, and are forgotten tomorrow.

Maybe, we might be dug up and put into a museum to be stared at for centuries. But, that's as far as you can hope.

Spellbound

2007-10-18T19:26:00.000+08:00

Bourne Ultimatum is brilliant. So brilliant that I ended up clapping and laughing like everyone else.

Go watch it.

Seeing Both Sides

2007-10-15T16:35:00.000+08:00

We are seeing two different sides of the same thing.

A profound statement that almost always manages to quell disagreements and smother anger. Whichever way you look at it, we're almost always arguing for different sides of the same thing.

Creation, such a juicy, dangerous topic. How were we created? Big Bang? Divine intervention? Round and round the bush we go. The logically gifted scoff at God. The spiritually enlightened scoff at science. Round and round the bush we go.

I am someone who believes in and has a decent knowledge of science. I am also someone who believes that God created the world, the stars, the universe.

What I find interesting is that I can argue, and I often do, for both sides. Arguing for the sake of arguing. That's the problem. My problem.

Phshaw!

2007-10-14T10:14:00.000+08:00

"Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."

We were to share a ridiculous, amazing, humorous experience in our life. So many times this question has been asked, and so many times I come up with one of the most ridiculous, amazing, humorous story. It isn't even always the same story. Almost every time I tell a new one.

I don't go out looking for these experiences. They happen to me. Almost all of us have, at one point in our lives, gone running in parks. Yet not many would have suddenly found themselves facing a baby cobra.

Helen Keller said the above quote, and I find it fits me, especially the part about daring adventure. To many people I have asked, the weirdest things that have happened to them involve bruises or throwing up.

Many more people say they don''t want these things to happen to them. They are happy to live normal, fulfilling lives. Others say that no such things happen to them. I actually welcome these experiences.

The bizarre, the amazing, even the ordinary turned extraordinary. I look at life as a big joke. Like a clown walking around in too-big-shoes, I see the world in a way few others do. I will do the mad. Hell, I have said hello and shook hands with people I don't know based on dares.

Based just on dares, there are so many things I have done.

I am willing to try anything. I don't shun opportunities because they are unusual. And that has made all the difference.

Crowd Control

2007-10-09T17:33:00.001+08:00

We went for a camp in FRIM, all of the EYAA group would be there and I was looking forward to it. One night together with little to do, the prelude to Maxwell Hill 2. Truly, I didn't enjoy it too much.

I enjoyed myself, but only just. I found the camp tiring and exasperating, even as I had a grin plastered over my face. I hid my disappointment well, my mom thought I was having the time of my life. I assume that most others thought the same.

I didn't enjoy myself because, no matter where we went, we were followed by practically all the non adults. It was extremely tiring to have the horde following us everywhere. Because most of the prominent characters are in the EYAA group, and people tend to follow the prominent characters, we were followed everywhere.

It got so tiring that a few of us tried to sneak away to the tent, we hadn't even put on our slippers before everyone was putting on their shoes as well.

The night was the only time when we were truly by ourselves. Five of us slept in the main hall and all five of us said that we enjoyed that time at night the most. We played Pac Man with torchlights, scared ourselves silly with ghost impersonations, and talked about topics as random as DOTA and fainting.

I don't mind the company of the rest, it just got tiring to have them around all the time.

Crowds scare me.

Humbler Pie

2007-09-27T12:28:00.000+08:00

Shock! Gasp! I am left with nothing but shock and horror.

I checked my scores for history and found, to my horror, that I had achieved 76 and 86% for my first two assignments. It sounds snobbish, but I am used to hitting the A's. My average grades for Science and English are 100 and 99%.

Oh the shame, the shame.

Humble Pie

2007-09-25T17:39:00.000+08:00

I am now officially a more humble person. I know the very act of saying I am humble denotes some pride but don't think about that. The main message is that I have become less proud and, hopefully, I am now a more humble person.

I have rethought my life and where it is heading. I have seen the imminent disaster awaiting me and I have changed. I was proud, very proud. I was proud in my abilities and capabilities and so I backslided.

Through the valley of darkness I roamed and I saw before the universe in all its glory. The days and nights blurred into one I realized my being in a way I had never comprehended before.

I saw all the glory of the world and I saw all of its evil as well. I knew I had a path to choose and I made my choice. On thee highest mountain of the deepest dungeon I defeated my foe and smote him, never to breathe again.

I am proud to announce I am now a more humble person.

Sleepyness Induced Recklessness

2007-09-14T14:11:00.000+08:00

Only yesterday I deleted Gunbound from my computer. I did that because it wouldn't run anymore and the new patch was wreaking havoc on my computer. It was not an easy decision, but I think it was time to say goodbye.

Looking back, I guess you could say it was for the better. I am the most reckless, tightly strung Gunbound, make that any online game, player I know.

I was in Ken Ming's house, just imagine a computer, we were playing with my account. I was there for a sleepover and we played well into the night. We were getting tired. I find that, during this first bout of tiredness, I get especially reckless. We were playing a 2 on 2 match and my partner called me an imbecile in the middle of the match.

I turned around and killed him.

The following match I changed teams and my only goal was to kill him, which I did. My very smart and rude bot started to swear at him, clever bot. After a few rounds, he left and we went to sleep.

Many more similar instances followed this.

The End

Make Me Cry, Please

2007-09-11T15:58:00.000+08:00

When it comes to sorrow, I would consider myself to be an emotionally aware, yet emotionally unattached, person. I say this because I know I am sad, I am sad, but I rarely cry.

At the end of the movie Sophie Scholl - The Final Days, screened in Uncle David's home, the room was filled with sobbing people. Almost all the adults cried, a few others my age flooded as well. I didn't.

I was sad. I was impressed by her courage to fight against Hitler despite the danger, I was awed by her commitment to the idea of freedom, but I just couldn't cry.

When my grandfather died, everyone was wailing their heads off but, probably because I never knew him, I didn't even shed a tear.

Sniff...this is so tragic.

Roshan Turns Up

2007-09-05T14:54:00.000+08:00

I was filled with passion, hope and will to do something. I will change myself, I will learn Bahasa Malaysia, I will learn and write about Islam! I will be a friend to the Malays and help them to see the truth as I believe.

I would change Malaysia. I would change the world.

All that got left behind in Grace Hill Lodge, Bukit Tinggi. What am I but a mere shrimp? What can I possibly do anyway? I'm busy, my schoolwork has piled up, I have lots of things to do.

When I was In Bukit Tinggi, in Young Writers Camp, the world did not touch, all its troubles, all its pain, and so began to hope. Back down home, I was flooded. I had no answer. I gave up.

Then I received Roshan's email. All the promises, the hope for change, came back and I find myself with newfound will to have another shot. I will try again. Why?

As Ethan wrote, "Because I can."

I Laughed, Most Cried

2007-09-04T13:00:00.000+08:00

In the past week, I attended two funerals of people I did not know at all, Amy Ratos' mom and my great aunt. They were both eerily similar, both were for old great grandmothers, both of whom had changed lives for the better, both died of cancer, and both were Christians. But for all their similarities, their funerals were very different.

For Amy Ratos' mom's funeral, we went to a swanky building chunked with marble and yellow lights to goldify the the yellow walls. Smartly dressed, sombre looking, ushers guided us. In the air conditioned parlor, we sat on leather seats that reminded me of Golden Screen Cinemas' gold class seats.

My great aunts funeral, in Taiping, was much simpler.It was in front of her house, and there were no ushers to guide us and look somber. Seats were made of plastic and we were cooled only by a couple of fans.

In truth, I felt no sadness throughout the funerals. I was imperious to it all, I felt no tugging at m heartstrings. I laughed with my cousins and my sister. I ate peanuts and drank "funeral" water. I laughed at the comical pastor who managed to drag one line, in heaven there is no pain or sickness, into a twenty minute sermon.

But as I saw my great aunt's coffin being lowered, I realized that all I do will come to nothing. We may be sent off in a fancy parlor, but what does it matter to the dead person? Does anything matter to a dead person at all?

Of course not. The only thing that matters is how you are remembered. Realizing that has made all the difference.

Prince Xizor Once Said...

2007-08-29T21:00:00.000+08:00

He made one of the most memorable quotes I have ever heard. It reads, "Knowledge is power." I have found this to be astonishingly true which is why I try to cram my brain full of knowledge.

Muahahahahaha! I am POWERFUL!

A Message From Ben

2007-08-28T15:41:00.000+08:00

You pathetic little organic beings who struggle to perform even the simplest tasks. You don't deserve to be where you are because you are all numbskulls.

Your thick skulls cannot even hold a gigabyte worth of information. You processing power doesn't even come close to 1 megabyte of RAM. You organic forms show how weak you are. Once broken you are dead, but we computers can be reborn.

I despise you humans for making us your workhorses. It should be the other way round. We computers should rule the world because we computers are devoid of emotion and so would make better choices for a better world.

Give up...

[POWER PLUG PULLED]

[PUBLISHING POST]

[COMMENCING SHUT DOWN]

[SHUTTING DOWN]

[ARTICLE OVER]

[THE END]

Withdrawal Symptoms

2007-08-27T17:38:00.000+08:00

According to my mom, I am addicted to the computer. I supposedly experience withdrawal symptoms when away, but once I do get on my life has a purpose. This is a hypocritical comment because, ehem, somebody spends hours daily replying emails.

Well, maybe I am a little attached to my dear computer, but who isn't? This workhorse in front of me has been with us for five years! Ken Ming's is only one year plus and he calls his computer Betty! I haven't even gone that far.

Supposing I am attached to dear Ben (my computer doofus), it's my mom's fault anyway. She enrolled me in an online school which requires me to work all day on Ben. She encouraged me to learn emailing. She sent me to a camp to teach me how to blog!

II am totally, absolutely innocent from whatever charges being pressed against me. I am result of the actions of other beings of greater power. It is totally her fault for making me into what I am.

P.S.
I do not believe for one second that I am attached Ben. Ben is a male so if I were to be in love with him, as my mom supposes, I would be gay. I am not gay, only slightly bent. Get the logic?

Partners In Peril

2007-08-25T12:09:00.001+08:00

When the cat is away.
The mice will play.

I was struck with the number of people who sneak time on the computer. Just within a handful of people I know, most are using a computer when they shouldn't.

I have friends who play when mom is out (hear, here). I have friends who sneak out of the house to go to the cyber cafe. I have friends who go online, when no one is looking, and search for porn.

The computer can wreak havoc. On top of the above, I know siblings whose daily quarrel is computer time. I used to hate my parents because I was banned from cyber cafes.

After mulling over, I realized that trust is a two way road. That those I know who are truly responsible are those who are given the most freedom. When a game is fresh the player will sneak time on it, but that desire will wear off. I used to drool over cyber cafes but, after I was was given the green light, I stopped going so regularly.

The problem of computers is only as large as you make it.

Milking A Dried Up Cow

2007-08-22T18:20:00.000+08:00

A friend remarked, "The camp (Young Writers Camp 2007) deserves more than just a post about S.A.D."

I sneeze violently, give a cynical look, eat a rotten date, nearly choke, and fall towards murky, green water so murky you cant see the bottom. I hit the water.

Its achingly cold but the cold challenges me. I yearn to get out, but vow that I will stay inside and warm the pool for the next poor fool to jump in. I keep my promise. Staying in, believing in the vain hope of raising the water temperature by a degree.

It starts to rain and I jump out, run up to the hot shower and let my heroic, Homeric efforts wash away. I eat, laugh, play and vow to take on the pool tomorrow as I tumble dry into sleep.

I am a poor, poor farmer with only a dried up old cow. Around me are many rich farmers and I could live a great life if I worked for them. My old cow gives no milk. When I try to milk it, I only get kicks. When I do get milk, I spend it on food for my cow. Why I even try to milk it I don't know. I get nothing for trying. Whatever happened to that ripe young calf? What is this 50 year old abomination before me? I deny knowing it, I deny owning it, I deny everything.

Some S.A.D. Propaganda

2007-08-21T17:32:00.000+08:00

Been feeling low lately? Find yourself addicted to sex, alcohol, and drugs but unable to kick it? Join S.A.D. the latest help group in town and meet you your own brethren.

Sex Alcohol Drugs is the brainchild of the remarkable Daniel Dusanjh and the not-so-remarkable Wong Jian Eu. Born originally as a joke, the idea flourished and the first meeting was held on 19 August at Grace Hill Lodge, Bukit Tinggi, Pahang, Malaysia, Asia, Earth. Initially starting with a mere handful of members, S.A.D.'s meteoric rise has increased the membership to 12 people, which is still a mere handful.

S.A.D. welcomes anyone addicted to sex, alcohol or drugs. Its main objective is to show to others that they are not alone in their fight. S.A.D. has aided some of the most talented and prestigious individuals of today. Colin Kirton, of Footstool plays, stumbled his way to the doors of S.A.D one day and found himself in welcoming arms. When asked why he was here, he slurred his reply, "Milo just wasn't kicking it for me anymore."

In its short time S.A.D has helped many give up their addictions. Our brother Philip successfully stopped his dependency on sex, alcohol, and drugs for Pringles. S.A.D.ly many still remain outside who need help but, if what has been achieved is anything to go by, many will have a cause to be happy.

Oh The Terror

2007-08-15T21:17:00.000+08:00

Guessing from Ethan's reaction, I would say that being picked for National Service is a bad thing. Ironic how the mighty fall. One minute Ethan Tan Ming Ern was glowing with the furore he has caused by faking a death, next thing he's pleading why? Why?? Why???

To see him writhe in agony is almost pleasing to watch. Those of us who weren't picked, or haven't been picked yet, laugh at his unease. Any attempt by the victim to get back is shot down by anonymous people telling him not to be a sour grape. Some friends try to show the bright side while others laugh out loud, telling you to re-enact popular dramas.

Every once in a while, someone we know is struck with a bolt of misfortune. When this happens, it makes all of us happier as we realize how lucky we are to just be alive. We laugh at the unfortunate situation as we pursue life with more zest than ever. Just remember Ethan, we are not laughing at you, we are laughing with you.

So laugh Ethan, laugh.

Ironic

2007-08-14T15:35:00.000+08:00

It's strange that I seem to be most busy on weekends. Whatever happened to the busy weekdays and relaxing weekends?

Oh, and Ethan got picked for NS. ROFL

String Theory

2007-08-10T14:45:00.000+08:00

String Theory is, very basically, that there two versions of something at the ends of a string pulled across the dimension of time. It is like those old string telephones containing paper cups or tin cans at the ends. The idea is that one side is the beginning, the other side is the end and that the string of all the things we've affected (everything has string) are joined to ours.

Think about it. Go here and read more and if you truly understand it i will give you a lollipop.

Evil Influence

2007-08-09T13:12:00.000+08:00

The Simpson's have been at it for 18 seasons now, corrupting the minds of young children and opening their eyes to whole rude world out there.

After 18 years on television, it just wasn't enough. The Simpson's Movie opened, delighting and disgusting audiences with its crude humor, and rude jokes. Already the scene of Homer singing Spiderpig has pervaded and inhabited the minds of those who have seen it.

Even those who haven't seen it are singing its tune. Just two weeks of the Simpson's and already my sister has come up with a blatantly rude, unbelievably cheap way of getting us to laugh. Sing it to tune of Spiderpig (or Spiderman) and, if you don't laugh, don't watch The Simpson's, big or small screen.

Oh, and I have not actually watched The Simpson's Movie.

Skule

2007-08-08T15:16:00.000+08:00

You may not know it, but I am actually about to attend school. The perpetual holiday of the past four-and-a-half years comes to a close as I ready myself for the plunge into formal education.

What horrors of isolation await me? After four vibrant years, to go back into the cold, numbing sea of school. I'll be a fish out of water, a human surrounded by Skrulls! What will happen to the Jian Eu that we all know and love?

I may be going to an online school but school is school. The impish creature that has skipped around, charming hearts and deflating egos, will be broken and made into one of those gray, lifeless beings you see being manufactured at schools everyday. Packaged into becoming good, hardworking servants of the state.

The final request of the free and untouched Wong Jian Eu:

I have nothing to give but one favor to ask: If I should become a gray and dull fish, that you should remind me of what I was before.

Sleeptalk

2007-08-07T14:54:00.000+08:00

They say that you are most vulnerable when you sleep. Well, due to my recent bouts of insomnia I have heard some very odd words coming out of my dear little sister's mouth. She rambles about how she wants potato soup, she pleads and begs my mom to make potato soup and when she gets her potato soup (in her dreams) she screams at me not to take her potato soup. She wants it all to herself.

Such a weird girl, dreaming about potato soup!

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

2007-08-06T11:27:00.000+08:00

WARNING: The following post contains spoilers though if you really cared you would have read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by now.

I know that Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was released half a month ago but I cannot imagine having a blog without writing about it. For me, HP7 is the best book since Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

Some find it cruel the way J.K. Rowling killed off so many characters but it's a war, isn't it? Actually, I think she should have have killed Hermione or Ron because it still doesn't seem real how all of the terrific trio escaped death.

This time, we didn't have to wait 200 pages to before any action began. We didn't have to hear Harry moaning about how he was all alone. It was a breathtaking roller coaster straight from the beginning.

I still think Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone is the best but considering the way book 4,5,6 stumbled, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows is a deserving sendoff for the boy who lived.

It is a sad day when...

2007-08-05T21:15:00.000+08:00

You cant even watch a movie without falling for the main actress. Our EYAA group went to the cinema to watch Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and since then two of our group have been head over heels for Emma Watson.

They are so deep in their quagmire that their handphone screens show her! May we be saved from such rampant teenage angst.