Mania.

Manic characteristics include irritabilty, anger or rage, delusions, hypersensitivity, hypersexuality, hperactivity, impulsiveness, racing thoughts, talkativeness, pressure to keep talking or rapid speech, grandiose ideas and plans, and decreased need for sleep (e.g. feels rested after 3 or 4 hours of sleep). In manic and hypomanic cases, the afflicted person may engage in out of character behavior such as questionable business transactions, wasteful expenditures of money, risky sexual activity, recreational drug abuse, abnormal social interaction, or highly vocal arguments uncharacteristic of previous behaviors. These behaviors may increase stress in personal relationships, problems at work and increase the risk of altercations with law enforcement as well as being at high risk of impulsively taking part in activities potentially harmful to self and others.

Well I guess that explains everything.

Anyway, it's amazing what you see when you're depressed and high at the same time. Shit, it's like looking at an ashtray and seeing the funny side of it and then at the same time feel sad coz it's fucked up side shows up to. Daym.

So yeah, laptops repaired, I lost everything. Everything. I never thought losing a couple of hundred pictures would leave this void, this vacuum in me... It's like saving a fuckload of money to buy something you really really want, you actually saved up enough and you run to the store to get it, to finally get it and hold it in your hands and then... Someone shoves you to the wall and points a gun at your head and runs away with all your money... It... hurts...

Ah well, the optimistic side of me says 'Life's fucked up ey, shit happens'.

The pessimistic side of me says 'HAH! I told you this shit is gonna happen!'.

At least there's some of the pictures with Bhai Zaim. Family pictures, I guess in the end, they are the one's that are truly valuable. Oh and the lightning picture is also in there. Fuh, thank god.

Love, love, love...

Uh okay, scratch that shit.

I just realised I'm so fucking out of touch with the news today it's pathetic. It's like being a fucking toad in a fucking glass bowl in a fucking well, drowning. Guh.

Okay, DoTA is growing in me, not playing the shit in two days makes me go 'herrrrr.... herrrrr... herrrrr......'

Mania. Oh hell yeah.

Honesty. To the Fucking Max.

1. Nobody will like what I am going to write, nobody will find it in their mind/heart to accept it and the narrow minded society always will deny it.
2. I am not suicidal. People think that me cutting myself ultimately leads to me being suicidal but I am not. I love the way my blood trickles and coagulates. That and how it reminds me of my mortality.
3. I have only 4 close friends who I would truly get steamrolled for. To those who may have the feeling that I might do that for them, you're delusional.
4. I hate mass human contact.
5. I believe that the current world has nothing worth living for except for family.
6. Watching 'The Arrivals', prolly everything that the fucker says has already been noted in my brain.
7. The book Taqwacore has more bad points that good. The book itself is awesome but the messages go overboard at times.
8. I love God. I may be that bastard that doesn't pray and sin 24-7 but He is there and I devote myself to him. Hidayah is a journey, I haven't and maybe I will never find my destination. So fuck off you retarded stereotypical motherfucking fanatics. Stop giving Islam a bad name. This is dedicated to those who think they are fucking messiahs while all they do is lead people astray. They are all around us.
9. This thing here in Egypt where there are Societies formed among M'sians. Yeah, those. I think its fucking stupid. And at the same time I'm calling all those who support this shit moronic mongoloids. Happy New Year!
10. I am sorry, truly to those who I have not kept in contact with.
11. To the fuckers who go around trying to change people: Stop being so fucking afraid of your fragility. Sebelum tolong orang, tengok diri sendiri dalam cermin dulu, tengok betul-betul iman tu tahap mana.
12. The Bible is super good reading material.
13. Muslims can keep dogs. To those who think otherwise, refer to Surrah al-Baqarah 2:115. So much for angels not coming in the house.
14. Even as an Arsenal fan, I think Wenger needs to go. Maybe a little change in the game plan perhaps?
15. My laptop is dead. As in dead dead. I'm ready to cry now. I'm about to lose my prtfolio for the second FUCKING TIME IN 12 MONTHS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!! WHY ME.... 
16. I cannot see myself in any other place except being down the drain 10-20 years in the future...
17. I have no idea why but I feel as if bits and pieces of me are being left behind everywhere I go.
18. I am extremely ignorant and I love that fact no matter how many fuckers are hurt. Ha-ha.
19. I do not appreciate being insulted. Seriously. Why? Because then I'll insult the insulter back and me not being used to restrain my words (both vocabulary wise and subject wise), it'll end up messy.
20. I fear darkness, cold water, ghosts, heights, clowns and anxiety. Crazy crazy world.
21. I wish I am clinically crazy.
22. I think that half of the supporters of Chelsea and Manchester United are just doing it because they'd like to be in a winning position. Correction. 3/4.
23. Coffee is ecstasy with orgasmic capabilities.
24. I have no respect for people who cannot distinguish between Jews and Zionist. These are the people who contribute to the deterioration of the world today.
25. I try to stay away from Malays because most of them are into that stupid fucked up mentality in which Malays are supreme and all other races are inferior. What the fuck?
26. I hate fucken weddings.
27. I need to get laid.
28. Sigh. My laptop died. There goes my Lightning and my writings.
29. I am an emotional impulse driven ignorant fuck.
30. The fact that I have to do Medicine is one thing, having to do it in Egypt is another but having to do it with 500 over Malaysians surrounding me beats everything.
31. I can't make a change no matter how hard I try.
32. Chics in specs with long hair is el kryptonit.
33. Gugarshlider. Ah, good times.

The Norm - Prologue.

He was born on an uneventful day somewhat a few hours after the sun had set; nothing fancy, he did not enter the world at a time where the world was rejoicing nor did he enter at a time where it was mourning. To sum it up, he entered the world much like everybody else, kicking and bawling with no deformities or abnormalities. As soon as he suckled on his mother’s breast, he was carried off by a normal nurse and the medical procedures were then carried out. I might be rushing a bit here but it was most likely that this is what he hated most, the perfect normality of which he was brought into the world. If it was up to him; which almost never happened, he would have entered the world at a time where wars had ended or started, in which the labour was torturous and painful for his mother and at the moment his head slid out, the doctor at hand died of unknown causes. Or maybe miracles happened at that moment. All he wanted was that something special had happened that day, but as I had said earlier, almost nothing went his way.

As he grew up, he was absolutely one hundred percent sure that he was special. He thought he was the only one who had an imaginary friend; which of course he did not know that it was imaginary; he thought that he was special because he was the only one who could see it. That was until he met other children and one especially which had imaginary friends that no man, woman or child could possibly count with normal fingers. After he got over that, he once more thought that he was somewhat chosen when he could answer all the questions asked by many sorts of people. In his childish mind, he had his life; which was a week or two, planned in advance, the second week included plans of running for the election and winning it. Oh yes, at that moment he had it all figured out. Then a random person appeared and burst his bubble, leaving him distraught and confused. Acceptable really, he was after all going to be a leader of a nation. This trend continued and what baffles me the most is why anybody didn’t tell him that he was living the life of a normal child. Maybe it would not have made a difference. Oh well then, the past remains.

He had no siblings. His parents strongly believe in preventing overpopulation of the world and are convinced that they might be the pioneers in the prevention of said problem. He therefore had no elder siblings to bully or make a slave out of him and neither did he have any younger ones to take responsibility on. His parents are non-abusive; another one of their attempt to be pioneers, and never laid a hand on him. One might say he owned a perfect life, and at times, he did believe in it. However, our story tells much more than the life of a normal, slightly spoiled child. It wouldn’t make much of a story now would it? Rhetorical questions put aside for others dumb enough to ponder upon, our story begins. He is now eighteen. He is now very, very depressed.

Feedback needed.

Sleepless Nights 24 - Respect

Truly, what we lack in this world is not world fucking peace.

Talk a walk and look around you, there ain't no fucking murders happening right before your eyes now, is there? And I am referring to you under normal circumstances now.

The reality is that what we truly lack is respect.

Respect. Just that one simple fucking term yet it has been perverted in so many ways that nobody could really tell the difference between respect and fear.

Honestly, I can't fucking understand what is so fucking hard about it. Of course right now I am pissed off because I am applicable under this group of the people who lack this respect. And fuck, I am not pissed off, I'm... confused.

By respect I do not mean the 'Respect me for my looks/intelligence/etc. respect. I don't fucking care about that. I mean just respecting another person's decision, just that, is that so fucking hard to ask? Is it so hard to be content with the fact that at times my perimeter; my tolerance towards the fucking human race diminishes to shit and I'd rather be in seclusion or be in the presence of other people who won't bother me? Is it that fucking hard to accept?

Everybody has a perimeter, mine is just way too narrow. Sorry in advance but fuck, I can't change that fact and neither can you. If you still persists on fucking and bitching around then too bad, honestly I could care less. But you know, just for old times sake, go fuck yourself. I don't need people like you messing up my already messed up mind.

Of course, right now, I will be under another kind of critism. It's referred to as 'I got no balls and I have to bitch about it in a blog'. Believe me, the only fucking reason I'm doing this is so that you'd actually spend time reading and maybe understanding this. If I had told you this to your face, that auto-fucking-denial of yours would erupt and force your brain into temporary mental retardation.

Sigh.

People, people, people.

I thought to myself and I realised that heck, who the fuck are you to buzz around me? You serve me no benefit whatsoever, and what more, you depend on me at times. So what's there to lose if you go all fucking berserk? Believe me, I can walk out anytime mate, it's as easy as eating. Just don't come to a point where you'd need me; though I doubt it, and I am not there.

Okay, time for bed.

Holy shit, I can't grow up.

I remembered this one time, a friend of mine jokingly said 'You know what, you are fucking childish at times but at other times you are fucking reasonable. I just don't get it.' It didn't make any fucking sense then and I just laughed it off but now, I just realised why.

I refuse to grow up. Literally. I will not allow myself to go through that phase. It's not because of some vanity shit or some fucking retarded shit like that, the body ages, of course but I refuse to let go of all the little things people refer to as childish.

I've met tons of fuckers like me, as in the part in which the prefer to stay and act like a kid. I realised that my difference with these people is that I allow apart of myself to mature, to be reasonable, to have half of me remind the other half that the world, as much as I want it, does not fucking revolve around me. Yeah and even as I write that the other half is questioning why. I don't know man, I'll look into it.

It's funny. While other people want to grow up and drive and shit like that, I'm relatively afraid of the day where I have this huge fat fucking label on my head saying: Responsible Adult. Fuck. That's some scary shit.

I look at many of my friends that have grown into this fucken robotic fucks and it just hit me. Of all things, I do not want to turn out like that. I don't want to be like them where life/shit is revolved around work and money. Come on man, you gotta be kidding me. Can't even spend a few hours with a friend is going fucking overboard. Anyway everytime I bring up the topic, words like 'responsibility' and 'priority' start to be shoved down my throat. Of course, they don't expect me to understand that. After all, I'm just too childish ey.

If childish is one thing, there's this trend of labelling somewhat erratic people as crazy little fucks. Well, hello definitions! Someone almost famous once said, schizophrenia is a sane answer to an insane world. I have to admit, that is so fucking true. Is just reality. The so called normal people are in fact more fucken twisted than the once labelled as the crazies. BDSM, fetishes, paedophiles, heck these are all committed by fucken normal fucktards. So much for us being the crazy ones. Oh except for BDSM, that shit is awesome.

Egypt loss and there is no chaos. Fuck I'm fucking disappointed. Cibai, these people don't know how to have fun. Fucks, I swear to God.

Have I told you lately?

Have I told you lately?
That the glare and the malice,
The flare of abhorrence,
In your deep dark eyes
Makes me smile?

The way you grit your teeth,
As you fight and squirm,
With the spirit of a thousand swords,
Have I told you
That it leaves me sleepless?

With words that stab deep,
And that freezing aura,
You leave me breathless,
My morphine,
Have I told you?

You linger there,
In the notes of mournful instrumentals,
In the wails of widows and orphans,
In the air of funerals and plagues,
Unrivalled and unchallenged you stand.

My dark Queen,
Have I told you lately?

A/N: ... Yes, I stole the title. So what? Anyway, you know the drill, feedback needed. I'm no longer going to beg for it.

Purpose Driven Life...

... Doesn't fucking exist.

If it does, why are you here? Everyone wants fucking world peace, true? If in the case of the term stated above is true, then everybody would be fucking holding a gun and shooting every single fuck that punches another random person. Why? It could lead to racial disturbance hence promote violence and ultimately cause peace to wither like a fucking ancient rose.

Let's rephrase shall we?

Let's just say you want to be a... doctor. You go to Med school, you study your ass off and in the process fuck up your brain cells to the point of no return but the point is that you became a doctor. Your fucking life mission reached. Then you work your ass off, get married, fuck and finally die. So... What was the purpose? You became a doctor, you saved lives (or try) you got all that you wanted. Was that your purpose? I mean, yeah shit, I may not be making much sense now but listen. Is your purpose of living really... just to do that?

I don't know... It seems pretty dull to me. I gotta admit, getting tons of money, chics and everything you desire is pretty good... But fuck, there's gotta be more than that! I need more than all that shit, I can survive without fucking, I can survive without having material stuff but I cannot, I cannot... Just fucking live just for the sake of it...

Somehow, suicide have always made sense to me.

Anyway, shit, I have class tomorrow. Dammit... Fuck all ye who wake up in the fucking morning!!!

Ah well, this is not my fucking purpose... That said, I wanna be Dr. Manhattan. Why? Shit, apart from those superpowers, I get to be fucking naked and no one gives a shit! Woot! And I'm blue!

Sleepless Nights 23 - Know Your Place.

I originally planned to write a short story at this time since I decided not to sleep. Then, quarter way through, I got mail from 1x. It was another reject.

Was I crushed? No, not really, I was disappointed, yes, but far from crushed. It just made me fucking hyper to know that I haven't reach the level where people actually rate my photo as a third rate. So I went through the Critique section (You gotta critique at least 3 photos to have yours posted in there) and saw these really awesome photos which got rejected. So I thought, hell fuck, these people are really into quality control, ya know. Towards the end; okay fine, I got bored I was only halfway through, there was this photo which to me wasn't really great and I didn't find it surprising that it was rejected. Basically what the dude said was:

1. No one can take this picture. Why the fuck is it rejected.

2. I'm a teenager, therefore I am subject to pity. Why the fuck is it rejected.

3. Compared to some pictures that got accepted, mine is way better. Why the fuck is it rejected.

Note: He took a picture of two dogs playing in the snow. Bad quality.

It's funny. Of course no one can take that picture, there can never be an equal photograph under any circumstances. And being a teenager makes you take bad photos? What the fuck man, stop telling the world that teenagers are fuck ups just coz you can't take a little criticism in your barbie doll life. Besides, who are you to judge whose photos are better, yours were oversaturated, not focused and had no detail whatsoever besides the two fucking dogs. Why are you being such a fucking jack-fucking-fuckfinn man?

I've been through that shit, thinking about all the fucken unfairness of the fucken world but when the time comes when I stop and review it, it makes all the fucking sense in the world. How the fuck are you supposed to even progress when you can't stand up and accept the harsh reality of the world? It doesn't revolve around you. Accept it or die in your vanity.

I saw this guys photo which was held up in Screening for a fucking week. Imagine his feelings when it was rejected. I don't see him complaining.

It's not just in photography. Photographers are not all fucken freaks of nature who cut themselves for fun. Well, okay, maybe some are; bipolar even but those are special. Anyway, as I was saying, what the fuck is wrong with shit fucks nowadays. Can't take a hit? You fucking pansy. And every single fucking time, the blame goes away from you. Why? Why can't you just accept the shit that's thrown to you with pride and with the mentality: You fuck me up, I'm gonna fuck you up twice as hard plus ultra sized dildos thrown in. (Not literally)

To err is to be a fucking human. What? You can't bear the thought of making a mistake? Who the fuck do you think you are? God? Heh, it's hilarious thinking that you fuckers are the fastest to get up and preach his word.

See, people are gonna ask me: 'Who pissed you off?'. What the fuck? Isn't it fucking obvious? It's fucking general society? The molding, rotting decrepit mongrels who label themselves as the good guys but behind closed fucking doors, they are the ones fucking polluting the world with the shit they spew out of their fucken pus filled mouths.

It's all the same things. Hate the Jews, fuck the coloured, the Malay Supremecy, You're going to Hell... It all comes down to this: A major fucked up Superiority Complex. Everybody wants to be in power. They crave for it, they'd stab their brothers and sisters to get to it, they'd use the fucking bond of kinship to finally cause a major disturbance and clear the way for their ultimate glory.

Everybody wants to be the good guy.

Know your fucking place.

Funny/Fucked Up Side...

You know that moment when you realise the fucken stupidity of it all? That the shit that had been said/done shouldn't have been said/done on the basis of simple logic?

Example 1:

Aku bukan nak kata apa la tapi ko ni pun agak-agak la bile bercampur ngan bebudak tu...

Budak mane?

Perempuan-perempuan tu la, aku tau la best tapi jage la sikit muke tu.

Eh wtf la brader, ko ingat aku masuk lepak ngan diorang aku buat ape? Fuck diorang ke? Buat project beramai-ramai dengan penuh meriahnye ke? Agak-agak la, nak syak sumer bende tu mmg aku tak kisah bhai tapi bile ko dah mule nak tuduh aku ni then sorry man, I won't take that shit even if your intentions are good.

Eh aku bukannye kate ape-ape pun, aku saje je cakap, takut nanti ade orang tegur ke, tak manis lak kan...

Habis tu ape yang ko buat ni memang manis lemak berkrim la ye?

Weh aku bagi nasihat je ni, ko sebagai membe patut amik dan pikirkanlah.

Nasihat? Setau aku la, orang yang bagi nasihat ni bagi nasihat tu bile die betul-betul paham ngan ape tengah jadi, bukan pakai bantai je on the basis of 'I'm a fucking good samaritan'. And since ko tak pernah ade situasi cam yang ko cakap aku buat ni, ko lagila takleh nak cakap ape jadah. Coz entah-entah ko nanti buat bende lagi teruk- given the chance- dari aku. So stop trying to act like a smart fucker and improve yourself first before you speak to me. Meshi?

Example 2

What's your number?

9.

9?

Yes.

Isn't it 18?

Oh wait, yeah it's 18.

Example 3

I hate this group of people. On second thoughts, I hate this group of fuckers too... Wait, nah, I hate these heretics. Shit, look cameras, I'll hate them too! I know! Let's hate everyone and post it on my blog! Yay!

Stupid fuck...

Example 4

Hmmm I think I'm super-religious. Therefore I shalt spread ze love through my mindless preaching.

Uh, okay, it's not wrong to spread the love but dude, come on, there are limits. Don't come to a point where salvation is prevented because of your word.

Dah, fuck I'm bored.

Some funny shit.

Is it just me or does having your head filled with medical shit at 2 in the morning make things funnier?

HAHAHAHA

Anyways, fuck will be me at integrated tomorrow. Yays!

Sleepless Nights 22 - Caritas Romana.

I find myself being a tad bit obsessed with this 'Caritas Romana' thing. Okay, maybe very obsessed... And please, to those who googled that shit, don't whine to me about myself being a perverted freak of fucken nature. Coz I am, and you're just fucken jealous.

I honestly do not see it through a sexual point of view, if my word can be taken seriously. It's the humanitarian point that I accept and admire, I mean fuck, I just traded In Hoc Signo Vinces for that shit man, cut me some slack. It's noble yet sensual, acceptable yet erotic. It's duality is beyond question...

Anyway, I hate Egyptian old school women who like to chill out by the stairs. I mean, shit, that's the only way to the roof and you expect me to take a million of your photos first? That's extreme vanity yo! Well if you are super hot with enough luggage to make me worship you then, a-hem, I'd overlook the vanity part. But you're old. And you laugh to much.

I realise on some days, Alexandria's skies aren't that fucked up, I think star shots are possible but it'd take heavy editing to make it look the least bit acceptable... Right now, hit list number 1: Street lights. All of 'em fucken vermins.

Now that I'm back in Egypt, I don't really miss M'sia. It's a complicated thing, I kinda look at M'sia as if it's some sort of fable, where the Milky Way is always in view and the stars are as bright as venus... And filled to the brim with naked hot babes strolling around and they are all in an 'open relationship'. Oh yeah, that'd work. Of course, M'sia is not any of the above, not the least bit near but let's just say the mamaks represent all of this. Oh and please God, stop any family members from getting married next 4 years... I don't really wanna go back.

Oh short story coming up, keep yer eyes peeled.

Truffles

'Why is your blog dead?'

It's not. I'm just in Egypt.

Seriously, I run out of things to do here. I was sincerely hoping that the sky would be awesome here but the street lights and the dust just clouds up the fucking sky. So I guess getting star shots here is like trying to wank to 2 girls and 1 cup. So I look for things around the house to bring out the artistic side of me and the closest that I got to that was in the morning looking at the water heater's plug frying the extension wire. Wait, I think that was the fear of being electrocuted. So yeah, photography is out.

I try to write and it keeps on getting jammed, it's like the words all try to bust out at once and it gets stuck in my mind, like fucken sewer material clogging up the drains... I go online and I get bored in 2 seconds.

The books that I got from M'sia is lying in a pile in my bag. With all the fucken things going on I can't read in fucking peace. Gonna try the roof later, let's see where that gets me.

On the other hand, a few guys discussing truffles at 2 in the morning is as funny as it can get. The mushrooms I mean. Christ, who eats those fucken things...

Oh and please, fucking give me ideas for photography or writing, I'm dying here.

Love in it's purest form.

Yeah, title is super corny. Pay no heed.

Note: This post is about the love towards books.

How do you know that you have fallen in love with books?

Is it the knots in your stomach that suddenly forms when you start to slowly, without haste unwrap the plastic wrappings of a new, fresh of the shelf book?

Is it the utter disregard of your surroundings once you have begun to read one?

Or is it the sheer joy to just be in a room full of cabinets stacked with books, or the dread that fills the heart when you see a page of a book torn?

Is it the feeling of dismay once you actually realise that a book is coming to an end and you force yourself to stop reading at a normal phase but digest each word slowly and with an ounce of effort?

Is it the feeling of hate and abhorrence once you realise that a book is not to your liking but you force yourself to read it till the end; knowing that if you set it down, you may never again sleep in peace?

Perhaps it is the utter joy and bliss that you experience once you realise that you have found a perfect book for you?

Is it all of these mingled into one?

Or does none of these count?

Does it really matter then? Is a book in reality just a few pages bound together, in which there is nothing magical about it? Or is the truth hidden from our mortal eyes, forever we shall be doomed to ponder about these matter?

Does a book in fact hold the keys to eternal glory, of magnificence and of immortality? Does it hide the fact that one could swim through vast oceans, cross mountains of flames, fight monsters and abominations to save one's true love just by reading?

I realise I could fucking care less.

I kneel and I am content.

Sleepless Nights 21 - Cranky.

To those who prefer not to know me when I'm cranky, fuck off.


I know I'm patient. I can tolerate with a lot of shit, believe me, I can. Somehow, I now realise, my patience is running out. Fast. Just imagine an hourglass. At first, the sand runs smoothly, but at the very end, if you notice, you realise that the sand runs faster than usual. That's my patience. Like the grains of sand at the last hour. I keep telling myself: Why the fuck are you fucking taking this fucking shit?!

I try and I fucking try but to no fucking avail. Now I realise it. Your fucking ego is like a fucking helium balloon. Seriously, I swear I thought at times it weaned, heh, fuck it, I'm just imagining shit. It's beyond help. The fucking balloon can't be fucking deflated.

So I think of ways to maybe, you know, help you cause what I see is a fucking lost kid. Who am I fucking kidding? Who am I fucking kidding? Who? My fucking self. You're not a fucking lost kid, you're just another fucking vermin in this fucking infested world. I officially stop thinking. You don't need fucking help. You need a fucking revelation.

So it comes to this. I calculated the shit and hmmm... Approximately 10 years? Yeah 10 years should do it. If I am ever to break this vow, I curse myself. 10 years from now, I will cut all ties with you. 10 years from now, I will not present myself to you. 10 years from now, I erase the very fact of my existence from you. Mark my fucking words. Sear it into your fucking mind. You know what, take it as another joke. Take it as the words of a fucking weak frail fucker who has never been able to keep his vow. Please, by all means do. Because when it really happens, you will not recall this day. The only thing you will do is wonder, and it'll occupy your mind so much that you can't fucking sleep. You'll be left wondering for the rest of your fucking life: Where did I go wrong. I will not answer. Remember? I erased myself from you.

It will hurt. Oh yes, I can already feel the coming pangs of pain that will slowly erode my body and soul. But it's worth it. I can tell. Oh yes, I can tell. For all that I have gone through, it is a fitting, if not over-the-edge, punishment for you. I will relish it, savour it and laugh each fucking time someone calls me up in the future, begging me to reconcile with you.

Today marks the day where it will all begin. I say thank you for all good deeds you have done. For the next 10 years, I will bow down and be a fucking slave if I'm not one already. 10 years. 10 fucking years.

The answer.

I finally got it. The answer to the question everybody is shoving up my ass when they contact me/ I contact them. Please la, be satisfied with this fucking answer, or else I'm chop your head off, boil your brain and eyes, suck the humour out and stuff them and hang them in my room.

Question: Shit la wei, Raya this year seem so damn boring la. Dah tak meriah doh. Why ah?

Answer:

1. You're grown up la. The excitemennt diminishes coz now you start to realise that hell, Raya is just another day where family gathers round and eat and lepak together for the whole day. Today, you get a fuckload of guest streaming into your house and all that. That sense of realisation makes Raya less fun, not to mention the only duit Raya you'll be getting is from close families only. Also, for most of you, Raya is going on while school is. So yeah, you know that this shit is short termed excitement and you'll be back in school before you know it. Ha-ha for you.
2. When you were a kid, Raya seems fun because you make an effort to actually go out and be with the throngs of people. Now? What the fuck, I see people being fucking online and lazing around in their room on Raya. No life ah you? Sad bhaenchod.
3. If none of the above hits the spot, then it's either I'm out of ideas or you're just fucked up. Nah, you're just fucked up.

I don't know, Raya seems pretty much the same for me. How can you not enjoy fucking Raya man? Retard.

Ok off to get me some bubur pulut hitam! Oh yeah bitch!

Oh, and Selamat Hari Raya. It's the third day in case some of you forgot.

Ciow.

Sabh khush now that Eid is coming

Meh, ignore title. I'm bored, fuck you.

So anyways, I just saw the most hilarious shit on facebook. There's a group, guess what it's called!

ANTI-BACK STABBERS GROUP

*Hysterical laughing*

Just when you think these people can't come up with things that'll surprise you, they do. And each time, it's just so much fucking better.

It confuses me really. How you want to spread a movement which basically is trying to battle with fucking human nature. Come on. You guys can't be that naive now can you? It's even funnier to see that the people who join em are the fucken members of the back-stabbing guild.

9/10 people nowadays are bound to backstab you as soon as you get through the borders of strangers. It's just the way it is, no use trying to assemble a fucking army of fucking 'good natured people'.

For that matter, I really respect the bomohs. I mean, check this out. They know there's a fuckload of sick fuckfinns out there who refuse to go to the doctor on the basis of anything medically related are Satan's servants. So these geniuses go around telling everybody that they can cure everything. In exchange, they get a free fuck, get elected as ketua kampung or just get plain fucking rich. If the patient still goes on sick, they give the best excuse in the world: Aih... The Demon is fucking powerful... I need to have a real good fuck with you then your condition will improve. See, these guys understand economics very well. There's demand, a very big one. And the ters are up to these fuckers to state. Holy fuck, it's like using a cheat in a game.

Hmmm oh yeah, fucken Eid is coming. Rejoice! We be cracking em firecrackers in em frogs! Seriously, why is everybody so fucking excited bout Raya... It's just another holiday.

Meh.

Ciow.

Follow/Watch/Like

I was having this conversation with a friend a few days ago. So we were talking bout some person's blog when he/she/it told me that he/she/it wasn't reading the shit. I asked why and this was the answer:

He/She/It: Oh, I saw her follower list. Meh, she had like 2 or 3 followers only so I guess it ain't worth reading.

Me: Huh? What the fuck? You seriously did that ah?

He/She/It: Ya la, I follow public opinion what.

Me: You're a fuckffin you know that.

Next scenario.

An amazing photograph on DeviantArt had zero comments and 3 faves.

A lacklustre photograph had 2,374 faves and 407 comments.

The first artist has no watchers.

The second has 548 watchers.



It's not sickening. I've accepted that fact a long time ago. Today, he who is popular shalt reign supreme. Still, every time it happens, I can't shrug off a of pure, unadulterated, overpowering feeling of disgust. It's as if everything has turned into a fucking race or something. I bet I can get more followers than you, I have more watchers than you, more people like my status and such. What the fuck is wrong with you fucktards?

It is true that usually, public opinion matters; sometimes it differs from one's point of view but one has a choice to agree or to disagree. Not only in the matters stated above but in most scenarios. All I'm fucking asking is that when the fuck has everybody cease to acknowledge the fact that the option exist? It's like most people are going 'Hell if I don't blindly follow the fucken public, I be digging me own 6 by 3 there. Or monsters be jumpin' out from me closet.'

Since when has the public held the Veto power? Since when has it been written that whatever they say make all the fucken sense in the whole fucken world? Since when ahs their voice reigned supreme? I'm so fucking temted to go VIVA LIBERTE on your fucking asses.

I know. Some of you out there are going ah, what the fuck, why should I listen to this kutte da puther? Believe me I'm not and best of all, it's the whole fucking point of this post. You have a fucking choice on whether to read this shit or not.

Everybody nowadays is going with what's called the 'in thing'. Fashion, books, underwear, fucking everything. Just cause one or two fucks went 'Hey, you know what, lets take this product and tell the everyone that is the best dang thing that has happened to us! Yay! Lets!' I just do not fucking comprehend why. Why wear a 2000 dollar dress just coz people say it's cool to do so but in truth, and even you know it, it's like fucking wrapping old curtains around yourself. Why spend 100 dollars on a book that everybody say is good when in truth it's content is worse than a fucking biochemistry textbook. Why wear perfume that smells like rotten elephant flesh. Why? When you can buy a 20 dollar dress and look good, spend 5 dollars on a really enjoyable book and spray some generic perfume that smells really good.

Some say it's the media's propaganda. I say it's your own nature. That fucking pet peeve of yours that can't stand being excluded from the 'cool' guys.

I say, fuck it all. I'm going to keep on writing even if the world hates my writing. I'm going to wear shit that I like even when the fucking majority laughs at me. If writing things that I like, making art the way I see fit and acting like myself makes me a fucking disgrace from the public's point of view, then so be it. Just don't be surprised when one day, you look at me and you go 'Hell, what if I had done the same?'

Self respect. That's what the wold is fucking lacking among other things.

A/N: To those who think that I'm just a sad person trying to defend myself due to a lack of followers/watchers, please continue to think so.

Sleepless Nights 20 - Rain, Lightning, Thunder and Butterfingers.

Is it just me or does everybody feel like when it's raining fucking cats and hounds, with lightning illuminating everything in sight every bloody second, thunder shaking the very foundations of the house and Butterfingers playing full blast, everything seems so peaceful?

It's like, the rain empties out the world. The flashing lightning and crashing thunder tells you that 'It's not fucking safe outside. Stay inside.'. Then you put on the earphones, play some Butterfingers' songs and voila. Perfect.

I don't know, with coffee, this shit is so fucking surreal. I'm talking bout the old butterfingers here. The grungy waves of music kinda fits in. Feels like you just walk into a crowd, shout 'FUCK YOU, FUCKFFINS!!!' and no one will dare raise their voice. It feels like you are the one, no one will or can fuck with you and it will stay that way. Well, at least until the rain stops which is now. Damn.

What music does, I swear to God. I'd like to go try and get some lightning shots but yes, for once I do admit that I'm quite fearful of the consequences. I mean, what the fuck, my camera could get fucking fried! Imagine this: Lightning flashing like crazy, in the middle of the lawn; a camera on a 5 and a half foot metal tripod. Hmmm... Pretty darn safe ey?

So I stay indoors grumbling... Coffee... Wait, coffee. What the fuck, where's my coffee??

Off to make some then.

Retarded Mafuckers.

I'm under the impression that most of you have heard about the Indonesian hate Malaysian thing.

I've been through a fuckload of blogs, articles etc etc all of them pointing to this issue. Best of all, the M'sians say they're good and the Indonesians are bad, and the Indonesians do the same thing. Perfect situation innit?

There's a very big difference when it comes to defending your country. I emphasise on this because I know that there's a lot out there who is reading this going 'What the fuck? He's telling me that I shouldn't protect my country?!'

If you go around doing this:

1. Telling everybody to fuck Indonesians.
2. Giving everybody the impression that M'sians are really the one that is feeding them.
3. Start burning fucking flags.
4. Causing hatred towards Indonesian workers.

Then yes, stop defending the country. Instead, go mess with some fucken gangsters or some shit and make surre they kill you. Simple.

I'm not a fucking saint la seriously, but I do know where the line starts and ends. Hatred gives way to more hatred. That's it. I saw a million comments on millions of blogs saying 'Ah, you know what, fuck the indonesians, without us, they'd be nothing.' A-hem. I fucking beg your pardon? How sure are you that it is not the other way? I know a fuckload of people that'd be clueless if there are no Indonesian maids. Oh and the rule is, you must hire non-M'sians to be maids since they are much inferior. Fuck you. Fuck you to the world's fuckhole, you fuckffin.

We are human. Half of us are gonna be rotten, half of us are good. It's the fucking norm. You see, there's word that 300 over people are gonna fuck M'sians up in Jakarta. Do you know that Jakarta has a population of 8,792,000? When compared to the bigger picture, everything seems meagre, no?

Point is, you can't just label Indonesians as a whole as total fuckers. That's like labelling Malaysia as a fucking cesspit occupied by Malays only. You see? It's wrong. There are other races too in M'sia. (Laughs Hysterically)

To those who disagree, who thinks that we HAVE to fuck em up, we have to discriminate etc etc...

You guys are the fucking role model for retarded mafuckers.

Sleepless Nights 19 - Camwhore.

I ban cam-whoring. I really do. If it means catching one's picture by putting the camera at a high angle and pouting one's lip - Basically trying to look 'cute'- etc etc, then yes! Ban it I do, with all the might in my emaciated body.

Why do I ban this absolutely moronic and shameful act?

1. Camwhoring is not reserved for people of celestial beauty and charm. Therefore you get 90% of the (Do not that this is reality. I dont give a fuck what you think or complain of.) fugly population doing said act. In very trampy clothes plus donning the tudung. Do take note that if one is part of the above population, one can use the camera to enhance one's beauty through a more art-related approach. Like taking a picture of a huge flower with one in the picture. With one's face behind the flower. Moving on.
2. Camwhoring contributes to massive emotional trauma and depression which leads some people such as yours truly to be adamant in his decision which is: Beauty has gone extinct 250 million years ago.
   
3. Camwhoring contributes to art being sliced down with a Ringwraith's blade, hit by a speeding bulldozer and left to fend for herself in a world of chaos. Not that I myself do not have a sense of fondness for chaos but hell, art belongs in a place where Unicorns and rainbows jog around fluffy cotton candy clouds. Seriously, if one who participates in said activity i.e. camwhoring wants to lessen the impact done towards whoever and whatever that is harmed in the process, please stop using fucking flash. You might have a particular liking towards your eyes being blinded by the time you reach 25 but please, for the love of everything holy and unholy, do take into consideration what damage it does to others.
4. Pay attention now, this is THE MOST important point. Most of the time I can overlook the fact that you need to define yourself in a pretty fucked up way and though it bugs the shit out of me, I can just escape by pressing the red square icon on the top right of the screen and browse some porn instead to get my mind off it. However. HOWEVER. It is when you force yourself onto other's innocent minds by posting your shit on Deviantart, I can't help but pulling out RPGs and start to randomly fire at you. Not that I care but by doing this, in the long run all your work is going to accumulate and then make DArt saturated as fuck in which other's work will not be able to gain recognition because most of the time, it is overshadowed by a fucking massive raincloud i.e. you. YOU. In all your fucking glittery I'm-so-fucking-emo-God-help-me-by-faving-my-art-cause-I'm-fucking-fugly-as-dog-shit ignorance, you forget that little fact.

Now, I swear that some who are reading this, camwhore or not will be thinking: Hey, who are you to say it's not art? You're fucking good is it to judge?

My reply is: Fuck off you fucken moronic yeast infected pussy. I'm not saying that it is not art. I'm saying that who the fuck cares if it is? Obviously you alone. Keep your fucking narcissistic 'art' to yourself, that way, you bother no one, everyday you can browse through your 'art' and jack off to how good you look and nobody will care but please, stop fucking oversaturating DArt or any of the fucking art site for that matter.

Mornings are pretty calming ey? Haha!

Still, I am adamant in my points. If you think that hell, I must not be around camwhores that much to *cooing voice* know that they're human toooo.... Then you got to be fucking kidding me. There's a shitload of camwhores I hang out with, and they are of no exception. This goes to them too. And heck, to those grumbling bout how I think I'm fucking perfect etc etc, come on la cibai. You think I'm not aware of my flaws? Sure, people get fucking annoyed but at least I don't post it on the god damned fucken internet for the world to see. I only cause a 'small' amount of people to be mentally deranged in my presence. Not the whole world. That counts for something.

Oh and to camwhores, I know you're human. So yeah, DIE BITCHES/MEN-BITCH DIE IN A FUCKING CAULDRUN OF ETERNAL FLAME AND DIE A MILLION DEATHS!!!! i HOPE YOU FUCKING MEET CTHULHU BHAENCHODS!

A-hem.

Ciow.

Angst.

Hmmm... It's been awhile since I posted something worth reading... Not saying this is but heck, at least this one has awesome kung-fu in it...

A-hem.

Thing is, I wrote a fuckload but its all fucking filled with really, uh, shall we say unsuitable stuff... It will offend. Definitely. So I leave them be, and I write a new one and the same thing happens. Now, I decided, heck, let's convey the message but lets make it simple shall we?

I am fucking tired and I refuse. Leave me be.

Now, if one is offended by this, then one can shove his/her/it's worries into one's own asshole.

To more happy news, I bought a fucking DSLR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

Presenting my second wife:

Nikon D3000. OH-MY-FUCKING-GAWD. Yeaps, I'm a bimbo when it comes to these stuff.

To those who has camera knowledge, the D3000 is somewhat similar to the D60.

In a nutshell:

• 10.2megapixel CCD sensor. Even in low light the image resolution makes easy work of big prints and sharp enlargements.
• 11-point autofocus system. Keeps even the fastest moving subjects in focus, often the biggest challenge for compact cameras
• Fast response. The start up time and shutter lag means you can capture the shot almost instantly, without the delayed response time common of compact cameras
• Guide mode. Simply the easiest way to get great pictures, without having to read the manual
• 3-inch TFT. With pictures this good, you will need a great screen to share them with friends and family
• EXPEED image processing. Exclusive system to deliver rich, bright results close to what you saw with your own eyes
• Picture Controls. Lets you set the look and mood of your images before you shoot
• 3 fps continuous shooting allows you to capture fast-moving action at 3 frames per second
• Intuitive ergonomics. We challenge anyone to pick up a D3000 and it not to feel part of your hand
• Stylish discrete appearance. The D3000 does not become a barrier between you and your subject, resulting in natural looking expressions
• Compact, light and durable. It won’t fit in your pocket, but with pictures this good you will find a shoulder to hang it on

Yeah, I know, I just copy pasted that shit. What the fuck, who reads this shit man... So far it has been pretty fucking awesome to say the least. I mean do expect starshots. Lots of em.. Oh yeah...

Oh yes, I'm looking for Silmarillion. Please notify me if anybody has it.

Ciowz.

Photography regrets.

Yeaps new thread. Bloody hell, this is gonna be a real crazy one I can tell.

1. Most recent and the one that threw me into a spastic/catatonic/fuck fuck fuck something. See, I was on the bus from KL and just got into Melaka. I was sleeping but then some stroboscopic light shit disturbed it. Woke up, wondered why the fuck is the bus fucking flickering. Looked outside and there it was. A fucking lightning storm right in front of my fucking eyes. Seriously, I though it was another one of my hallucinations. Then, from behind a mansion, 3 streaks of lightning shot up, and created a fucking lightning blue web thing across the sky... I swear to god, that has got to be THE most fascinating thing I have ever seen in my life... And yeah, I didnt have a camera. Fuck. Still, fuck it, I'm lucky enough to see that. No complains. And yes, M'sia do have lightning storms, if you wanna be at the real awesome spots, go to places where there is no tall buildings. That way, the lighning wont strike the ground but it will travel from cloud to cloud. Le fucken awesomeness. God.
2. There was this one time in Egypt, I was on a tram on the way to God knows where. Looked outside and say this orange thing moving slowly downwards. A fucking meteorite. A fucking blazing meteorite. A motherfucking blazing ball of rock. In fucking Egypt. Wait, emoticon: O.o
   I swear I thought I was fucking dreaming. Then, confirmation came when out of nowhere this huge amount of rainclouds formed. Mwahahahaha!!! WTF! Aih... Perfection...
   
3. To more subtle stuff. I was walking on a beach in Egypt and stopped to have a fag. I think it was 7 in the morning or some shit like that. Looked around and saw this man with his son (I think) and they were playing at the rocks. A big wave came and crashed into the rocks and drenched the gremlin. I mean kid. He started crying and the father was all 'Chill la cibai, air je kot. Wtf is wrong with you.' A-hem. Anyways, he consoles the kid then I realised the fucker is crying also. Uh... Yeah. Well, it would make a good photo...

Oh yeah I found out nobody fucking knows about light pollution. Why bitches, why? A-hem. So anyways...

To put it in the simplest terms, go outside at night if you're in a city and looks upwards to the sky. You'll realise that it's somewhat orangy and glowy and overall fucking ugly. Make your way to some rural town where everybody is a cannibal and do the same. It'd look like this:

Lo and fucking behold. Crazy ey? That's what light pollution does. It covers up the sky.

Dah I'm bored.

One two, buckle my shoe

Anyways, due to curiosity and an extreme sense of boredom,I decided to take a quiz in which I found lying near dead (Link was from Ika's page. Go find it yourself you filthy mongrel.). It's the kind of quiz that tells you 'Hey man, fuck everything you are, THIS is the real you. As in seriously, the quiz is called the real you. Did the thing, almost quit midway and then decided to finish it. Results?

Your view on yourself:

Other people find you very interesting, but you are really hiding your true self. Your friends love you because you are a good listener. They'll probably still love you if you learn to be yourself with them.

A/N: Bwahahahaha whats the fun in exposing one's true colours this early on ey... he.. he.. he.. Let's wait. And wtf, they'll love me more if I learn to be myself? Talk about being a lucky man huh...

The type of girlfriend/boyfriend you are looking for:

You are not looking merely for a girl/boyfriend - you are looking for your life partner. Perhaps you should be more open-minded about who you spend time with. The person you are looking for might hide their charm under their exterior.

A/N: I have no idea how to respond to this shit. Life partner? I must have a pretty fucking short life there. And come on, don't go insulting my ability to look into people... Just when we're getting to know each other.... Tsk... tsk...

Your readiness to commit to a relationship:

You prefer to get to know a person very well before deciding whether you will commit to the relationship.

A/N: Therefore it means that I will never get to know a person really well due to my insatiable lust/ curiosity. HA-HA ain't gonna be fucking commited mate.

The seriousness of your love:

Your have very sensible tactics when approaching the opposite sex. In many ways people find your straightforwardness attractive, so you will find yourself with plenty of dates.

A/N: Yeah right, and also, most of the time my straightforwardness awards me with a slap or more. Seriously. People just can't handle the truth nowadays.

Your views on education

Education is very important in life. You want to study hard and learn as much as you can.

A/N: I... don't want to study hard... What the fuck...

The right job for you:

You have plenty of dream jobs but have little chance of doing any of them if you don't focus on something in particular. You need to choose something and go for it to be happy and achieve success.

A/N: Too little time! I need a fucking extension.

How do you view success:

You are afraid of failure and scared to have a go at the career you would like to have in case you don't succeed. Don't give up when you haven't yet even started! Be courageous.

A/N: Yeah poke deeper mafucker. Deeper I say. Sigh.

What are you most afraid of:

You are afraid of having no one to rely on in times of trouble. You don't ever want to be unable to take care of yourself. Independence is important to you.

A/N: And inevitably ridding myself of the need to well, need other people. Viva Liberte!

Who is your true self:

You are full of energy and confidence. You are unpredictable, with moods changing as quickly as an ocean. You might occasionally be calm and still, but never for long.

A/N: Whadd'ya mean? I'm harmless. Really. Like bambi. Yeah, exactly like Bambi.


Boredom can really take a toll on a person. *Shudder*

Oh and to more interesting news, yesterday we went for a photography expedition. Wanted to go into the Hutan Rimba but hell, the place was dark as shit mate. So we're just sitting down and lepaking there when something prompted me to look into the sky and bloody fucking hell. Stars were everywhhere. Scattered like some glittery dust thing shit. Fucking hell. Long exposed that shit and it wasn't that satisfactory to us so we went to another spot i.e. Jalan Templar KTM. Haha that fucking place finally served it's purpose. Beautiful. We even got Pleiades; yeah go wiki that shit. That was crazy sial. First it was lightning storm in Melaka, then it's a fucking clear starry sky in PJ. What's next?

One two buckle my shoe,
Three four shut the door,
Five six pick up a stick,
Seven eight beat you dead!

She smiled, I smiled, then we went our separate ways.

Yeah shit right? I mean, it happens all the fucking time, there's that chemistry between two fucken strangers, you'd love to go and chat but then some shit is always there to pry you away. Ahah, that's life ey. To Pavillion chic: It might be a bit late you hot mafucker but hell I'd love to treat you and do some pretty nasty stuff to you but if you did not realise it, I had a punjabi fucker hounding me so yeah. Oh and I didn't really know who that guy was beside you so too bad ey. Still thanks for that bloody sweet smile. XD

A-hem. Now that's done with.

What has been up after that cringy story? Hmmm, can't remember actually... Been up and down KL and recently Penang a lot, after Kat left Melaka, there's nobody left really too lepak. So I use every single excuse I can make up to get to KL. Sigh... I'm bored. When the fuck is Egypt coming to get me.

Anyways... If things go according to plan I might just get my hands on a fucking DSLR!!!

*Imagine hooligans, thousands of em, shouting and breaking stuff while nazguls screech in the sky*

That's how I feel.

Yes, excuse me for being over-enthusiastic. No, wait, what am I saying... Fuck off you cocksucker.

Shit, I can't even fucking write...

Oh at Penang, I ate till my stomach exppanded permanently. And I finally have a tummy. Mwahahahahahaha!!! Still, I know all of this are gonna fuck off as soon as I land in Egypt... Le sighums...

Fucking off. This serves as a reminder that I'm alive.

Sleepless Nights 18 - Your life.

You wake up every fucking day to a king-sized bed alone. You keep on telling yourself that you did not develop the habit of sleeping on only one side of the bed because you are lonely. Of course not, you are perfectly fine, nothing is stopping you especially not some illogical thing called 'emotions'. Silently you touch the clean side of the bed, the one you did not sleep on and you smoothed the already straightened covers. Then you act as if there was actually someone there, you caress the imaginary grown up lovingly then stopped. What if someone sees you? You are in your prime and your image will be shattered. So you jump out of bed and walk a tad bit fast towards the bathroom.

As you brush your teeth with mint toothpaste, your eyes lingering on a cup filled with a toothbrush, a tube of cinnamon toothpaste and a hairbrush. All of them never once used; one look at it and any sane person would guess that it had just been taken out from their casing. You imagined that a person one day would finally be able to use them. You see the person walking in and giving you a kiss on the cheek before using all that is in the cup. The images then disappear, the toothbrush, cinnamon toothpaste and hairbrush lie untouched as it had been for ages. You spat into the sink, gargled and undressed. You hung your towel next to another one; unused.

After your bath, you walk back into your room and opened the cabinet filled with your clothes. There are two of these actually, the other one is empty, it had never ever tasted clothes, never had the feeling of a hanger clinging onto its steel bar and its drawers had never been filled with anything. It is in truth a sad cabinet, always consumed by jealousy by it's neighbour, the one you open every single day, the one which always have hangers cling to the steel bars, the one which you spend each day wondering which underwear to put on when you pull the drawers open. It always pondered why it had been placed there. It served no function. Non whatsoever.

You walk into the kitchen and see the person, your special someone eating biscuits; once in a while dipping it into a mug of hot coffee. Your mug is also filled with steaming coffee, only that the biscuits are of a different kind, you can never enjoy the other type of biscuit. Whenever you eat it, it crumbles into a billion tiny pieces and it feels like eating flour. Once again the images shatter and everything is gone, there is no steaming mugs of coffee, no biscuits that turns into a billion tiny pieces when you eat them, nothing. There is only you, and you need to get to work. Before leaving the house, you sigh. Suddenly your face brighten up when you feel a peck on your cheek. You turn around to see only a fly buzzing away, somewhat in a mocking manner. Just a fucking fly. Just a motherfucking good for nothing musca domestica.

You go to work and you get so consumed with the affairs of other people you don't fucking know that you forget everything about the outside world. Or to be more accurate, anything that doesn't get involved in your line of work gets ignored immediately. You are extremely committed. At times you hate it.

When everybody else start to pack their bags and wait in front of the elevator to go back to whatever was on their minds, you stayed back. You take your time finalizing deals and recalculating accounts. Many of your associates would come to your office and ask you to join his group for a drink at a nearby diner. Each time you would reject on the basis of having a shitload of work to do. In fact, you only have to sign your name and everything that week would be done. Sometimes you really want to go. Sometimes you'd love to just drop everything and run after them, patting their backs or tell really good jokes that you know will leave them roaring on the floor but in the end, you force yourself to suppress the urges. Sometimes you even tell them there's somebody special waiting for you at home.

When everybody is finally gone, you pack your bags, turn off the lights and walk slowly, enjoying the atmosphere in the office. Peaceful and serene, it contradicts the hustle and bustle during the day. It is like jumping out of a warzone and landing in a fairytale book. As you make for the exit, you would look at the janitor cleaning the area. If he or she seem to be doing the work with a certain level of enthusiasm, you will give him or her a sum of money. Nothing much, just to show your appreciation. As you walk to your car, you imagine a car behind you honking. It turns out to be your special someone coming to pick you up from work all the way from the other side of town. Turning down offers from everybody, your special someone had driven all the way just to meet you and maybe have a romantic dinner if both of you aren't too tired. Of course you would say you aren't tired, in the end, both of you will go to a romantic dinner somewhere fancy. Finally, a car in the real world will blare it's honk and you get ripped away from the dream world. Cursing, you make your way to your car, unlock the doors and drive home fast.

Entering your house, again your imagination tells you that your special someone is in there cooking something spicy. Your favourite, of course, that goes without saying. However, your million dollar home is empty, dark and the only thing that might be in there are some supernatural being that you keep on telling yourself doesn't exist. You turn on the lights, cook dinner and watched a movie or two. Alone. All alone. You will change into your pajamas and close the lights and slip under the comforter at one side of the king size bed.

Until one day, one fine day where everything goes wrong. You are at your worst, the water heater broke down spraying you with icy water, your clothes are torn, you can't find a match for your socks...

You wake up in the middle of the night, depressed and weak and all you need is just someone to hold you and tell you everything will be alright but nobody is there. You scream profanities, you trash your room, you tear off locks of your hair and finally, you crumple up and break down, crying your heart out telling yourself that this is not fair. You deserve a special person to attend to your needs andto whisper to you words of love. To use the toothbrush, cinammon toothpaste and hairbrush in the bathroom, to fill the deprived and jealous cabinet with clothes and underwear, to just use the fucking towel that everybody thinks it is a spare one. Just to do those things.

The next day, you wake up and the same cycle repeats itself.

You embrace the loneliness and consume it knowing very well it is too powerful for you to handle.

You are an over imaginative fuck whose associate think of as a recluse.

This is your life.

A/N: Please la give fucking good feedback. I'm tired. To those out there, cringe. This is your fucking life.

Sleepless Nights 17 - Addiction.

The flames bring out your true colours,
The pungent scent
intoxicating and hazy,
Clouds my eyes and confuses me.

Too poison for me yet
your kisses are irresistible,
Your cylindrical lips,
Oh so perfect.

You flow into me,
Skimming the ocean of saliva,
Gliding into the abyss,
Deeper and deeper.

The acidity,
The heat,
The nausea,
It all adds up to my love for you.

You tear me up,
Inside out,
That is your way,
A definition of your love.

They say you kill me,
Nay, none understand that you don't mean to,
You want to love but
your love makes me suicidal.

As you start to burn,
I flick you away,
Into a dirty drain or side walk,
Give you a new flame to feed upon...

And renew our love.


A/N: Feedback, fuckers.

Who's hungry?

I'm in heaven.

You see, this heaven is different, there's no rivers of honey etc etc.

This heaven has awesome stalls in the most dirty, dodgy, a-serial-killer-is-gonna-jump-out-and-rip-me-to-shreds area.

This heaven goes by one name.

Penang.

I'm home bitches.

Anyways, for the past day, I have been piling up the calories like a fucking starved beggar in Ethiopia. I mean 7 meals per day is awesome to the point of nausea. And if the food is at home, well, lets just say there'll be refilling of the plate. *sobs* And they say heaven does not exist on earth.

Went to Batu Feringghi but the rain kinda halted the progress. Not that I have anything against the rain, heck, when you've been in Egypt where rain is non-existent, you really start to appreciate this stuff. I stood in the rain and enjoyed as each drop pelted against my skin. Fufufu, poetry much.

Nasi kandar behind Choresta Market was closed, bhaenchod. That actually pissed me off you know, I've been eating there all my life and when I come back from Egypt, the fucker was closed. The fuck? THE FUCK? So had to eat at some other random place. It was okay, not awesome, but it had to suffice.

Things left to do:

1. Nasi Dalca Pak Din
2. Rojak Ah Chai.
3. Nasi Kandar Choresta Market.
4. Buy awesome clothes at Batu Feringghi.
5. Sam's Batik
6. Devour more food related stuff.
7. Smoke more cigarettes XD

You know, a few days ago before coming to Penang, me and my sister took Babe out to go to the beach. It was what, seven in the morning? I was my grumpy-don't-fuck-with-me-mood until I opened the window and... nothing. I heard nothing except for the wind blowing and the ocassional motorbike whizzing by. Other than that, there was... silence. It was fucked up cause I have been running around, being busy with life or so to say that I haven't even stopped to breathe in the morning air and just chill. I forgot how calming mornings can be. And it was fucked up. Pathetic, really. After that, I just ripped off my earphones and blanked out my mind. I enjoyed the morning. And got fucking wet after that bathing with my dog in the beach. Tsk. That's the true life.

Le Gardenie

Yes, I love Ben's comics.

So anyway, M'sia has been fine though is it just me or has the Rempits diminished in number? I mean usually if one passes by Dataran Pahlawan, there'll be this mass of Malays on bikes, prolly planning on how to kill themselves in a much more exciting place. I've passed through that place a lot and I have not seen them? Reformation? Hmmm...

Went to Jonker's yesterday and fuck, I hate that place. One because there isn't anything that really attracts me and two, it's a street. It has two ends therefore meeting friennds is pretty tough when you're in my shoes.

Chiko: Where are you la?
Me: I'm at Jonker.
Chiko: Yes, I know, but which end?
Me: ... Uh...

Yes, we all can see where that leads to. I got lost A LOT yesterday and I hated myself for not having any sense of direction.

Anyways, they finally found me and my God, I missed those Indons so much. Kevin, Patrick, Chiko, Jojo. My god, these are the people that made High School fun and bearable. We joked around bout how me, Kevin, Patrick and Paco used to be the shortest in the whole school. But now, fucking hell, how did we grow to be one of the tallest? Hmmm...

Went for drinks and then Sukh messaged 'Am lost..'

Pukimak fella, I knew that was gonna happen. So 2 hours later finally we got together (The author conveniently skipped the stressful parts.) and I saw him with his Mom and uh... friend. I forgot her name... Annyways, went to Geographers to chill and see these bloody drunk old fuckers dancing to Footloose. And some DUDE singing Dancing Queen. Badly.

Lepaked there for quite awhile, when the apostate decided to go to Mamak. Wtf dude, I know places but I don't know directions. Then basically we spent more time getting lost but got to the place la.

Yadda yadda yadda, they went home, I went home, Chiko went back to KL.

Moral of the story: Do not take me with you to places where I don't know.

Wrong.

Moral of the story: Take me everywhere but when getting there, pretend I'm not with you. I serve no purpose.

OMFG!!! CHINESE!!!

And that, kiddies, was what went through my head when I landed at the airport. Seriously, you Chinese, you guys were supposed to infiltrate every single part of the world. How the fuck could you have missed Egypt la?

Anyways.

I'm back.

Back to Dunhills, miniskirts and proper food.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A-hem.

So yeah, just had internet connection now after 3 days.

Anyways, yeah dad asked me to follow him to KL and so I thought it would be a good chance to meet all the fuckers who are here la. Followed my dad to god knows where (The author now knows he was in PJ) and told my dad I wanna buzz off to meet Sukh at Jalan Templar.

Me: Pa, can I ciow after this ah? Meeting some friends la.
Dad: Yeah okay. Where?
Me: Uh Sukh is in PJ so yeah, somewhere around there.
Dad (Puzzled): Has it occured to you that we are in PJ?
Me: *Blink Blink*

A-hem. No sense of direction there.

Let's skip to actually meeting the fucker.

Went to Pasar Seni and forgot how to ride the LRT. Yes, I'm that much of a retard when it comes to going places. So decided to meet Sukh there. Lepak-ed at McD's for awhile, got bored and wanted to get a fag outside. Walked to the exit, passed a guy and then realised that the green leprechaun seems familiar. Only with long hair which reminds me of judges.

Me: OMFG *More curses in more languages*
Sukh: Ditto.
Me: More curses in more languages.
Sukh: Ditto.

Note: That went on all the way until we digested the information that through each other's eyes, the other looks like a fucking begger. Ey phai?

Skipping on how we got fucking lost. Every single fucking time man.

Met up with Charanjeet and Hardeep (Which still has the pole body) and some other Phais. I swear to God, if I can choose who to go to hell with, it'll be with on of these fuckers la. Bhaenchods. Phai, terre bonde pathi ah? Phanjar, perfect.

Today basically is fucking filled with coincidences, getting fucking lost for a few hours and coffee. Goodness me, they have fucking awesome coffee here. I love M'sia. And Phais. Yeah. In a strictly no soap dropping action all. Bondemar walla all. XD

Sleepless Nights 16 - Dammit woman, not you too?!

Okay.

Is it just me or is there a burst in suicidal tendencies?

Hmmm...

Suicide: The ultimate running away technique; a show of great cowardice, the great fall from grace etc etc. Is that your definition of suicide? Is it?

Then you are just as shallow as the common society. How embarrassing.

Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that it's sickening to just label some suicidal fuck as what I've said above. Let's say your best friend/ family member committed suicide. I'd love to see you say how cowardly he/she is. Situations mate.

What if that person is fucked up in the mind? What if the person has gone through shit, fell into more shit, got out but tripped into a huge pile of shit and is drowning in it? Simply said, what if that person has gone through an extreme level of torment? Maybe you yourself in that position will run to the nearest spike and impale yourself on it. You don't fucking know what it feels like so stop comparing and labelling others. It's revolting.

Still, it hurts yeah when people close to you goes bang. I mean, the guilt from not being able to do anything and the shock that comes from it is fucked up.

Maybe some of you haven't been in the position and you will never ever understand what people like us, I mean them go through. You will never know what it feels like to stand on a balcony and play a scene in your head where you slip and fall; at the same time it feels so real, you could actually feel the wind rushing through your hair and-

A-hem. Descriptive aren't we?

I've been there, done that and still am. At times something just goes snap in my head and I fall into the hell hole. It's fucked up but I know people who have it worse. At least I have 2 fucks helping it out; they may be metaphysical but they still help. Some don't have anybody. It's just... sad.

They are not running away. Most of the time they are facing everything head on. Sometimes, they just blank out, there doesn't seem to be an option anymore. Oh to you who are saying 'There's always an option' with a radiant fucking glow on your face, here's cyanide.

It scares me that at times, I won't be able to claw my way out of the deep pit I seem to always fall into. What then? What'll happen when these two fellas cease to function? Who'll be there?

Z.F.: No one.

Okay. That was scary. Stop doing that mate. Especially not your growling voice thingy.

It does seem weird though why artist seem to be fairly susceptible to depression/ suicide. The way we look at life maybe? Maybe.

Shamziel is probably going to kill herself in a few months.

A still have a glimmer of hope.

Shit.

Dammit women.

What'll I do without your art?

P.S.: Spore is fucking addictive. So is Plants and Zombies.

Happy Endings.

It's always a happy ending in my case. Only I'm not in it.

Call me a loser, call me immature, I don't give a fuck.

I'm tired; tired of fucking trying out and putting a lot of effort in it when deep inside, I know that it's all in vain. I hate myself, truly, for not listening, not fucking giving up when I should.

I need to get away from it all. From family, from people I know, people I love, people I hate, all of them. There is one way, not really sure bout how to do that though. We are Asians and our way of life fucks up most of my plans.

That crunching feeling in my gut, that inevitable white flag which is going to come up, that little silent voice in my head which tells me: That's it for you.

They should fucking know better. They should know of my emotionally impulse-driven destructiveness directed to myself. They should fucking know. Yet they go ahead with it, what's the worse that could happen.

Sometimes, I feel like going to them and pound some fucking sense into their minds but hell, that would be 'inappropriate'. Nothing I do is right, what they say is an ultimatum, it's either that or the streets. I openly admit that I am not ready for the latter.

Still...

What the fuck. Sitting on those steps made me feel all the worst. If I had a full length mirror, I'd prolly would have screamed at it and destroyed it. I look pathetic. People say that when you look at others' sufferings, you are glad that you aren't in that position. Bullshit, sometimes in life, the smallest problems could be extremely destructive. Fuck being emotionally unstable, it's literally killing me. God help me. Seriously.

I should steal a large sum of money and go away. I don't see sense in staying. Wrong, I don't want to fucking stay. Surrounded by people that irritate me is not that tormenting as being surrounded by the opposite. And they don't even know it. They don't know it. They don't fucking know it. They-

Sigh

I can write that over and over again. A few years ago I would laugh at who I am now. A few years ago, I would've punched who I am now and tell: Get the fuck up. You're embarrassing me.

I try occupying myself with shit to keep my mind off whatever is bothering me. It doesn't work, not when *Slams keyboard on impulse.*

Excuse me.

Maybe I should just severe connections with certain people? Easy, I know but the consequence of that is pretty ugly. Call me narcissistic but I have a reputation that I maintain. Think that's fucking corny huh? Well, fuck you who are you to fucking judge me huh? Family? Friend? You fuckers don't even know who I am, what more try to make an effort to fucking do so.

Yes, I'm fucking venting out my fucking anger to you fuckers. I bottle it up when I should, big mistake. I'm letting it out now. You think I care if you get offended? Well fuck that, beats me cleaning up your shit and not saying a word about it. I can't fucking stand you who go around me acting all normal and shit when you're fucking itching to fucking tell me shit. I'm fucking tired of fucking taking care of you when you can fucking take care of yourself. I'm fucking done with making you feel good of yourself when basically there's nothing fucking wrong with you. I'm tired of you fucking parading around when in your heart, you know that you can afford to do so because you have me to fucking label as a scapegoat. I'm fucking tired of you Muslim fanatics that uphold your so called fucking justice when you don't even fucking know the truth. I'm tired of you fuckers that grin in front of everybody but fucking complain and go all fucking emo around me, Defend yourself you stupid fucker, YOU STUPID FUCKER. I'm fucking through with you depending on me too much. I fucking can't stand you when you try to make an effort when I clearly already said no. You're just not my fucking type and you fucking irritate me you fucking retard. I'm tired of slaving myself to you. I am tired and frustrated and I'm this close to buying a gun and shooting myself. I'm this fucking close to doing something that I don't want to do.

I'm fucking tired of myself making an effort.
I'm fucking tired of seeing your face everytime I wake up.
I'm fucking tired of myself not saying all this earlier.

I hope you all get offended. Toodles.

Sleepless Nights 15 - Individuality.

Note: Religious stuff up ahead matey. Leave if it rubs you the wrong way.

More Notes: Enter all ye who abandon hope. Yes, I cannot resist to.

Individuality. Big word huh. I don't really know about you but fuck mate, I think it's one of the words that defines the fucking abstracticity of substance.

So I've had this mass of people who obviously lack the ability to fill their time with useful activities and so they vent their frustration and anger to yours truly. It's funny you know, how everybody makes such a huge fucking deal out of a piercing around here. Go figure.

Vermin: So yeah what's with the piercing man?
Me: Uh... What about it?
Vermin: Well... I'm not trying to imply anything here...
Me: Oi fucker, if you have anything to say, you say it. Don't make me hunt you down just for a few words.
Vermin: Chill la. No la, don't you think it's a bit, uh... girly?
Me: Oh yeah and basically that means it's haram la. All that shit about 'menyerupai perempuan'. Am I right?
Vermin: Yeah exactly, you get my point!
Me: Don't get your panties up in a bunch. I haven't finished yet.
Vermin: Meaning?
Me: What the fuck is with you people and being shallow huh? Is it like a fucking pastime that I didn't know about ah? Listen mate, if I put on an earring on the basis of wanting to be female like, then it is haram. If I do it without any fucking intention to be more feminine then I don't see anything wrong with it. I don't expect you of all people to understand but it's so damn obvious and you fucks just can't see through it. It's individually based, the way you think, your 'nawaitul' is what matters.
Vermin: Haram is haram man. There's a clear line defining that.
Me: Obviously there is, but I doubt you are the one that's responsible for the placement of that line. Or are you saying God came to you in your sleep and granted you that gift?
Vermin: ...

You see? Believe me, that's the shortest version I could think of. What came out of that fuckers mouth was beyond fucking absurd, it's like a fucking curseword or some shit man.

Then comes the people that...

Zygote: It's funny wei. Why is it that your friends on FB/FS are all Chinese and Indians ah? Malays are rare man.
Me: ... That's supposed to be an issue?
Zygote: No la, it's like why is it that you, a Malay, mixes with non-Malays more?
Me: Who said I was Malay? I deny that fully. And when I make friends, I don't fucking judge them based on their race, unlike you fuckers. If I really have to judge, it's from their personality. That's it.
Zygote: You're not Malay? Wtf? You're denying the fact? What, you acting like some Mat Salleh la now? And how can you do that? You obviously have to trust Malays more than any other race!
Me: Do you even know what a race is? It's a group of people distinguished from others by common heritage and physical trait. So here's a huge middle finger up your fucking ass on common heritage and well, I don't see what we share in common on the base of physical traits. More than that, if your heart tells you that you are not Malay, Indian or Chinese or whatever fucking races there are out there, then fuck it la, you're not it. You are what you want yourself to be. If you want to be fucking chinese when you're raised by fucking indians, then fuck it, you're indian. If you deny being Malay even when you look like a fucking pure blooded Malay then what the fuck, you're not one. Who is the public top fucking criticise you? And who the fuck are you to tell me what I am and what I am not?
Zygote: So why are you still speaking BM when you're so Indian or Chinese?
Me: I'd rather not insult your fucked up intelligence. You don't even understand what I'm saying now, if I speak any other language, you'll prolly puke and die.

Okay, I can't really think right now. Anyways.

My point is that most of the things in life are underlined by several guidelines but really, who are you and me to tell someone what's right and what's wrong? Who are we to stop a person from thinking or doing something that he thinks is right? I'm not talking about those hardcore shit but I'm talking about more vague stuff, religion being one of the most misinterpreted topic. Raam Janne. God Knows. We don't.

Apart from all that...

ExamsarefuckingoverM'siainafewdayshectichectichecticPostersweddingsfriendsgaaarrrghhhhwtf!

Sleepless Nights 14 - Change.

Tsk tsk.



Where did the last 6 papers go?



I mean seriously, am I the only one that thinks it's all going a wee bit fast here?



Anyways, one more paper to go, I'd usually be feeling fucking psyched as hell now but-

(The author returns after a few long hours)

A-hem. Well okay, I admit, I forget stuff. Where was I? Oh yeah.

-I dunno, it just seems too fast. I can still remember actually landing in Egypt, I can still remeber orientation week... And that was fucking ages ago! No, you don't go 'So what?'! The point is, it's all whizzing by our fucking heads and we ain't realising it! Fuck! What if, after a while, I walk past a mirror and scream coz what I see is a 50 year old guy with white hair and fucking raisinified?! I... I...

(The author apologizes for the hyperventilation. He gets that when he hasn't slept.)

Moving on.

So basically, M'sia is within 2 weeks away and yes, I did try to count the days but I fail to do so. Oh well, maths is for losers anyways. Yeah, fuck you math freak. I'll have no fucking idea on how to react to the changes. I mean when I left, they were fucking demolishing buildings, houses and STREETS! CAN YOU FUCKING IMAGINE THAT? STREETS! FOR GOD'S SAKE, THAT'S WHAT SEPERATES US FROM CROCODILES! AND YOU'RE DESTROYING IT!

The fuck? Yes, sorry, I deviate.

As I said, buildings, houses and streets. A lot of em. If I'm lucky, I'll proly get to move around without getting lost. If I'm lucky. Okay what the fuck am I saying, of course I'll get fucking lost... My sense of direction fails me miserably, it doesn't make a fucking difference if the buildings/houses/streets get demolished. It's all a maze... Wait... What the fuck, I can't even fucking drive, how the fuck am I supposed to get fucking lost when I can't even move around on my fucking own. WHAT THE FUCK?!

Anyways.

Then comes politics. This is the only thing I want to say about it:

IT'S WHAT MAKING MALAYSIA A FUCKING CESSPIT.

I'm serious.

Pure unadulterated bullshit. Both the government and the opposition are just plain fucking stupid. Yeah, send the fucking ISA I don't fucking mind eating dog food or whatever fuck, the truth cannot be changed.

I just know that when I go back, that's what everybody is gonna be talking bout and I'll have the undesirable urge to say what's on my mind. Most of them would be Malay at heart so what I'll be saying is just pure heresy. Ceh. What the fuck la wei.

Still, there are stuff to look forward to. Food, friends, food, Penang, food, KL, nice weather, food etc etc. Shit, my schedule is going to be so fucking packed... Shit.

And the curtains close, some smile, some smirk but they all left through one door.

Sleepless Nights 13 - Weird.

Yeah its just fucking weird.

EVERYTHING IS.

You wake up one day and you go, 'Hell, I'm gonna kill myself today.'

You wake up one day and you go, 'I shall change the world today.'

Get it?

The way life fucking contradicts itself day after day is just fucking pissing me off. Stick to one plan will ya? Pfffttt...

Don't get me started on em love octagonal shit man. Seriously. It's a small world where everybody loves the wrong person and in the end they fucking tear each other's life apart and still call themselves friends. HAHA. I refuse entirely to be apart of anything such as that. So immature, so pointless. If she doesn't fucking love you back mate, go for another girl. Besides, wouldn't want to spoil the fun now ey? Boredom creeps in.

M'sia is now a cesspit of fucking shallow Malays and their so called 'upholding the national language'. Well, hello massive emigration. There will be a point where the only people who are left in M'sia are the ones who are fucking rascist. Then, they'll proceed to kill each other. WHen that happens, I'll come back. Why? Nope, I ain't no messiah. Can you imagine how cheap the land would be at that time? Damn bitch! Finally we can make use of rascist.

Oh and I love M'sia. Just hate you people who are complaining of this post right now. It's reality mate. Can't accept it? Fuck off. I don't need you bugging me.

Sorethroat really gives me the creeps. The way each cough seem to make 10 alveoli to rupture. And here I am smoking a cigarette. Poison kisses all around ey? Could care less. My veins are already popping up.

3 more papers to go?! WTF? Where did the last 4 go? Fuck!

Time is cruel. I swear, one of these days I'm gonna wake up and see my face full of wrinkles. IF I survive that long. And no, I'm not contemplating suicide, I'm just listing out the possibilities.

This post has no meaning.

The internet in my house has officially fucked up. Or is it my laptop? Hmmm.... No idea, either way, onlining less fucking often nowadays and as Mendel or Krukenberg or fucking Jack the Ripper once found out, I'll be updating my blog less. HAH!

Anyways, to a more emo part.

Perfection, as I have found out, will always be fucking dancing in front of you no matter how you try to put it away. Note: It dances. You ain't gonna fucking get to touch her. she ain't gonna stop and look at you or ask you to join her. She just dances. And then, you get so fucking pissed and the anger feels as if it's gonna tear open your chest and burn everything in it's path. But you supress it, and you put on a fake smile. You even have a portion of sanity left to ring the bell. Finally, your mind, body and cock gives up and you divert your attention to more important matters.

Sleepless Nights 12 - Contentment.

Before I start, I have not been writing for a week now. Tsk tsk. Here I am complaining bout people who don't update regularly. Yes, Ani and Kat, that was directed to you.

A-hem.

Exams are on, 2 papers are down and the next one is in lets see, 7 hours? Damn bitch.

Anyways, as one might or might not know, I am officially in a study group and I am a fucking nerd. A fucking nerd in a fucking study group who spends most of the fucking time cramming fucking medical text into his fucking brain in the fucking library; being fucking sleep deprived as hell most of the fucking time. Yes, to those who like to count, that's 8 identical curses in a sentence.

Okay, back to the study group part. At first I had no idea that I was even in a study group, hell, I think that nobody realises that they are. I just thought it was mutual studying. Started when i started to literally live in the library and now it's at the house below. Seriously, I have never been in a study group so basically I just followed the crowd. At dirst there were 4 people including me, then it kinda began to expand, it's like a slimy monster with tentacles that grabs anything that crosses it's path.

The members up till now:

Me
Sufi
Ika
Sabrina
My brother
Ain
Imran
Aisha
Baem
Azhar
JAY
LUQMAN

NOTE: THE AUTHOR APOLOGISES FOR FORGETTING THE LAST TWO PEOPLE. HE WAS SLEEP DEPRIVED. DUH.

Basically, I'm the one who goes and smoke every 10 minutes and who reads most of the time, Sab is the official question asker, Baem is a fucking saviour due to his awesomeness at spotting questions and Sufi is Barney. Oh and Luq is the 'Crunch' guy.

Wait, thats not the point... I swear, I deviate too often these days...

Point is, I didn't believe that this helps me that is until I did the tests. It wasn't easy but what was studied with these people actually latched to my brain. So basically waht I'm saying is that it works. It motherfucking works.

See, since I could recall, every single time I leave the exam hall, I will be:

1. Depressed as hell
2. Contemplating suicide
3. Angsty
4. Jealous to the others that went 'Haha, quite okay la'

But after these two papers, I went out and I could say, without lying to myself, it was okay. Not awesome but okay. Cause I knew that, fuck, I studied like an antisocial geek and it's the sense of understanding that I did all I could before the paper and whatever the outcome, I TRIED. No regrets, no suicide, no angst and no envy. It feels fucking good. I know that those days where I comr out with hate it's cause I knew that deep inside, I was the one to be blamed, I was the one who did not give my all and I was the one at fault. The people who could come out smiling have every right to do so cause who knew what they went through. Okay, fine, I still envy them but thats cause it's my favourite out of the seven sins.

I don't give a shit bout results no more.

Moving on.

Haha, it's kinda easy to aboid being depressed when one diverts the attention to something else. A-hem.

Hmmm... I really can write no more... My brain is clogged with physio, remnants of Anat and Micro. Do excuse me. I can see a long hibernation period coming right after the exams.

Oh and 6 minute solos are just fucking orgasmic. Yes. ORGASMIC. OR-FUCKING-GASMIC.

Musical Lesson

“And that is my answer, young man.” I looked at her, puzzled; I even convinced myself that she truly is mad, until the song My Way floated in the air like the hovering morning mist. It came from the old battered jukebox in the corner of the whitewashed walls of the diner. A smile spread on my face and I silently nodded, what she said had dissolved into my pores and settled in my mind.

That was how I began to understand life, a lady whom people looked at in disgust, a lady whom people insulted, a lady who on busy days and peak hours, wouldn’t even be spared a glance; what more sympathy. My conscience was in turmoil; how could a homeless person understand so much about life, how could she; who have never been out there calculating the stock prices or audited major companies know so much? The nights I had were then spent with her, each hour passed learning countless lessons of life. What amazed me was that she told her tale of virtues through the songs that were played on the battered jukebox; some of them were played millions of times yet each time, a new lesson is unveiled somewhat magically, it was as if fairy dust were raining down on us. I would just stare with my mouth hung open, listening tentatively to what she had to say and finally, after what seemed to be an endless road of enlightenment, we would say our goodbyes and go back to the life that saps out the very core of us.

The next morning, I woke up, got dressed and rushed to work; facing a huge pile of paperwork that never seem to diminish in thickness. I used to sigh; bemoaning my bad luck but still manage to finish up what had to be done in time to catch the last bus home but now… Now I look at the mountain of paper and ink and think: Is this what life means? To slave over something that nobody would look twice at and go home each day with an empty feeling in me? No! I refuse to believe that; what more after I have been enlightened by a homeless woman. Then the thought struck my mind as if Zeus himself lost his composure and went berserk. How cruel could life be, to leave a human being so intelligible, as precious as her to fend for herself on the streets and let these idiotic bunch of arrogant shallow humans to rule a country. It made me burn inside.

As usual I met her after the city itself has calmed down; when the fumes from the cars thinned and the depressed occupants get drunk alone in their living rooms. She was there as always, huddled in a corner with a thin piece of cloth failing at its job to keep her warm. At that moment anger filled my heart; how could God allow this to happen? Why? At that very moment, she looked directly to him and exhaled.

“My boy, you should never blame God for what is happening in this world. The fault lies in every single on of us here, including you and of course, me.”

“But you don’t belong here. Not on the streets. You belong there,” He pointed towards the skyscrapers that mocked the clouds, “You are the one that has every right to be there, governing the way we live.” Her eyelids drooped and suddenly she seemed so fragile, even the wind might cause her to shatter into a million tiny pieces. Then, a fragile woman she was no more, for her might returned to her and she cleared her throat.

“Tell me. Are you going to chat with me the whole day out here in the cold or are you going to treat me to a warm cup of instant coffee? Come on child, the jukebox’s tale has not been fully sung. You obviously have more questions and I have a feeling that the songs that are going to be played today will be able to help. Help me up.” I grinned at her statement and extended an arm so that she could pull herself up. We made our way past the ever-suspicious alley cats, up a few steps and into the warmth of the diner.

We sat down away from the wild teenagers and chatty waitresses and made ourselves comfortable. When the staff understood that the only thing we wanted were cups of coffee as long as we were there, he raised an eyebrow discreetly, shook his head and walked away; the sole of his old sneakers making a scratching sound due to the sand attached to it. We sipped our coffee and then there was a pause; as if the world had stopped revolving for a few seconds in acknowledgement of the little joys of life and then she broke the silence.

“So what would you like to ask me today? Come on now, don’t be shy.”

“I have been thinking…” I absentmindedly toyed with the greasy spoon left on the table, “How have you gained so much knowledge and yet, stop me if I offend you, you are a homeless person. A bum. It’s just outrageous when I think of it, surely you are able to find a job and get a roof over your head.” She laughed and shook her head as she would every time I asked her a question.

“How do you define a home my boy? You said I’m homeless but to me those streets are my halls, the garbage bins are my furniture and the stars above are my chandelier.” At that very moment, Motley Crue’s Home Sweet Home started playing from the old jukebox. I feel astonished every single time. “A home is what you want it to be, when you run away from one, it is not always as an act of anger or depression but sometimes we humans need to find some other place where we could be cosy. It may be a dilapidated motel room; it might be under a bridge or in my case, the streets. I love the feeling of just being there, there is so much to see, so much excitement. Everyday is an adventure, a new tale of conquest.”

“That… does make sense actually. Have you ever had a feeling of wanting something more? A better place?” Again she laughed.

“We are human. It is in our nature to improvise; to better ourselves in every way. However, sometimes; if we’re lucky, there will be a place that seems so heavenly that you’re heart will say: No! This is the place where I belong. And at that time, my boy, you will understand that at certain parts of our life, we could be satisfied with what we have. Again I stress, if one is lucky enough.”

“How about loneliness? Surely you get that?” There was a crashing sound. Some teenager was kicking the jukebox. Apparently, it wasn’t in working condition any longer. Then, after a moment, Elvis’s Are You Lonesome Tonight floated out of the speakers. I shuddered. Every single time. The songs seem to fit whatever the topic was. The woman just smiled and took a bite out of her bread.

“Yes, I do get lonely but then I look at the vast amounts of people who have loved ones right in front of their eyes; yet in their hearts they are lonelier than I am. It is written on their faces, it shines out from their eyes.”

The conversation continued and various topics were discussed. Of course, a fitting song for each of them was aired each time and I would shiver in excitement and fright. I looked at my watch. Only an hour had passed. The night was unusually long to night. I brushed the thought and focused my attention towards the woman, suggesting that we took a breather after the long conversations. It made me feel somewhat bad to let a woman of her age to entertain me for long periods of time. She agreed and after a while, a song that I loved was played.

“This is my favourite song. As a child, I would listen to it for hours and I won’t even feel bored. You know it?” I closed my eyes and waited for a reply. It came quite slowly, as if she herself was enjoying the music.

“Free Bird. Such an enlightening song. It represents so much.” She opened her eyes and fell silent. It did not occur to me that she expected me to explain. She raised her right eyebrow and tilted her head; a sign for me to go on.

“Whenever I hear this song, I could picture myself sprouting wings and flying away, not looking back at whatever it is behind me and just fly away to a destination that is not on a map. The song represents freedom that is achieved by leaving all that one attaches himself to in the world.” I took a deep breathe and exhaled audibly. It felt good to have said something that to me was very intelligible. However, I realised that she wore a veil of discontentment over her, an aura seem to envelope her. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong child. It is not my right to question your interpretation. However, the way you think is exactly like the common people nowadays. Do you not feel the sadness of the person that is being left behind in the song? Don’t you even feel the pain that the man who wants to be free feels? He needs to leave everything, everything behind! There is a price for freedom and in this song, he is determined enough to pay it off but still, his pain is very well stated in this song.” She sighed. I was dumbfounded. All that she said was true; it made all the sense in the world. How could I have not sensed it? It was repeated throughout the song. I felt disgusted with myself. I was… similar to all those people out there…

We went our separate ways then; I went back home to the comfort of my bed and she returned to the company of the alley cats. However I found myself visiting the woman much more after that, sometimes I would skip work just to gain what I thought was more valuable from her.

Approximately a month later, I went to see her. I searched the alleyways and behind the dumpsters; asked the ignorant public but to no avail. A voice screamed in me but I silenced it, there was no way she could leave without saying goodbye. I sprinted towards the diner to find it deserted. The empty chairs and polished tables added to the eerie atmosphere. I inched towards our usual seat, my heart raced and my throat dry. She wasn’t there. I collapsed, my body felt numb and my tears which had long been idle, flowed; branching anywhere it found a restriction and ultimately it fell onto the floor. She was gone. Just like a spore, she followed the wind to another foreign place; untraceable. I wept; the light of guidance was now gone and I’m stranded in darkness, all I could do was try to reason out why it happened but my efforts were futile. Then… the sound of a complex mechanism at work, a record is slotted into place. The battered jukebox. I rushed towards it and gripped the sides till my knuckles hurt.

“Come on! Tell me something! Please!” The answer? A familiar song. A very good one too. It starts with a continuous plucking of guitar strings, a sound of a man clearing his throat. Immediately the tears ceased to flow, instead I stepped back and closed my eyes, losing myself to the sound of Pink Floyd echoing throughout the diner, the streets outside and the stars or chandeliers. The song played and played until the jukebox ceased to function, a scratching sound followed by a crackling one and finally, an abrupt end.

Pedestrians and regular visitors of a diner frowned as they see a man huddled by a corner near it. Some were puzzled by the fact that it was now a man and no longer a woman. They stopped to ponder about it for awhile but they were disturbed by the expensive gadgets which they labelled as their life. He would just smile; he knew what it felt like being bound to those things. After all, he once was but now no longer. Some lucky ones had the privilege of being enlightened by a peculiar way, he explained life by showing photographs of what seemed normal to many but as he started to explain, they would see the images in such a beautiful manner that they understood what he was trying to say, it captivated them, enchanted them in a way. However, others marched on with their lives without ever noticing him. He never felt insulted at this, they were just preoccupied. The time will come for them to be enlightened; just as he once was by a woman and an old battered jukebox. So he waits, along with the alley cats as companions. He waits.

A.N.: It's a bit rushed, I think I could've done a better job on this. Still, I'm pretty satisfied but it's kinda corny, not really my style of writing... Hmmm... Changes ey... Feedback is most welcomed; if not forced.