Thursday, April 30, 2009
Fears
Acrophobia: Fear of heights
Aichmophobia: Fear of needles and the likes of it.
Antropophobia: Fear of crowds
Frigophobia: Fear of cold or cold things.
Claustrophobia: Fear of tight spaces.
Coulrophobia: Fear of clowns.
Spectrophobia: Fear of mirrors.
That is all.
Back to writing.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sleepless Nights 4 - Anger Management Issues.
Next question. How do you control anger? You stay in a dark room, you recite holy verses, you think happy thoughts, you spend a day's worth of calories on trying to carve a smile onto your face etc etc.
Next. Where does anger lead you. Nowhere in particular. It really depends on the magnitude of the events that happens after your failure to contai your anger.
Next. Does the author have anger management issues?
Answer: Yes he does. He fails miserably to contain his anger.
I have anger management issues. I really do and I have come to terms with the fact that I can't do shit about it. See, I have two options.
1. Bottle it up. I will not do this. Why? It results in the image below.
2. Let it out by chanting sutras or doing yoga. I will not do this either. I fail to see how locking my legs around my head would help in reducing my anger.
3. Let it out by screaming/crying/talking to someone/writing emo poems bout how life sucks. This doesn't work due to a couple of reasons. One, I might be caught and admitted into Hospital Bahagia, two; burdening someone else with my own problems is not the way i settle things, three; the only thing that sucks bout life will be the poem.
4. Let it out by thrashing stuff/taking long walks/ talking to myself/ self injury. This works. By thrashing stuff, you let out your frustration. If you're lucky, the item you are thrashing will take the form of what is pissing you off. Long walks are awesome. As long as no asshole talks to you. Talking to yourself. Hmmm, who else understands you better than yourself? Besides, a combination of long walks and talking to yourslef does wonders. Self injury. I'll leave that to that.
5. Sleep on it. The best solution for me.
I have strayed from the topic. Anyways, anger management issues.
When i get angry, I become somewhat clueless. I lose my train of thought, my head feels like it's bout to explode and I get rabies. Umm, scratch that. I do not under any circumstances foam at my mouth. I go into a trance-like condition where everything seem blurry. Ever played 'Need for Speed'? It's exactly like when you drive the car so fast annd the things around you go ummm... Play the game and you'll get me. Oh, and I forget a lot when I'm angry.
How many people have seen me in my angry state before? Very little, that much i can say. Hmmm... Let's see.
1. My former housemates in Lincoln and Kelvin. Hahaha the kitchen door had this huge hole in it and I have no idea why. The causative agent. A new housemate who 'sprinkled' soya bean milk on me... With his mouth. When I have a biology exam the next day. And I havent studied anything. Something happened. When I was concious of my actions, I was beside the pool. So i was like ' What the fuck man?' and saw my fist bleeding. Out of nowhere Alvin popped out and was like 'You okay or not? You really okay or not?' Yeah I was lost for awhile until he told me what happened. Hmmm...
2. My family? I think? My brother? I think i can still remember chasing him and my cousin with a knife in Penang. Why? I have no idea... Oh and my Mom.
3. The Indons. Hehe, highschool days are awesome!
Some people have asked me; 'Why do i get pissed off so often?' I don't. I'm not saying that I'm Saint Patience or anything like that but i think i pass the test. When I fight, mostly it's caused of friends calling me over and so on. Some people think I'm pissed off with them coz I'm being me. Too bad, I can't change myself but one thing's for sure, I'm not pissed.
Some people tell me to smoke less and that is supposedly effective in containing my anger. To those who did, have you ever heard of withdrawal syndrome? I guess not. My friend's dad even recommended a drug for me. Seriously, dude/ old dude, that's way over... What, is it some kind of mission in your life? To make kiddies get addicted to drugs faster.
Still, I have to admit, getting the symptoms (refer above... Waaaaaayyyy above) when I get pissed off is pretty awesome/ unicorn and fairies/ Chocolate cake and coffee. I'll leave that to that.
Sleepless nights.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
The Awesome-ness of Al-Jazeera
Anyway, yeah as i was saying. There's a gazillion thing i didn't know about.
1. Pakistan-Taliban War.
2. Al-Qaeda leader was caught in Iraq.
3. The Human Rights Watch has urged Najib to reform the ISA.
4. The civilians of Sri Lanka are stuck in between a clash between the Tamil Tigers and the government.
5. Swine Flu kills 7 in Mexico.
6. Venezuala and Palestine ties are forged.
7. Fatah and Hamas are gonna talk bout unity.
8. My favourite; Reports put UAE third in weapons importing.
It made me realise how out of touch I've been and also on how fucked up the world has become. I mean Swine Fever... Right after The Avian Flu. Hmmm... Oh well.
About reforming the ISA (The author's hand trembles as he types the coming sentence.), I totally agree with it. I mean, the ISA was formed during the colonial era. I think it's time for change. I mean, treating today's Malaysians like treating communist aren't suppose to help now is it? I don't know, that's just me.
Fatah and Hamas, unity talks, I hopee it works out but chances of it happening are kinda small to me. It's how the world is nowadays. There is always a condition in a treaty that the other party is not willing to let go. Usually a minor thing. The Sri Lankan issue is more important to me. Why? Coz British and French are gonna be volunteers to bring an end to the fight. A ceasefire. I dunno, but my memory seem to recall something that happened a long time ago. Something bout the British trying to help Tanah Melayu achieve independence or something? Funny, that only happened 400 years later. Hmmm, go figure.
Speaking about Pakistan I just found out bout this new movie. Seriously, fucking kudos to Al-Jazeera for this.
'Ramchand Pakistani'
Director: Mehreen Jabbar
Writen by Mohammad Ahmad and Javer Jabbar.
Okay, I haven't watched it yet. Previewed it but I ahven't watched it fully. So why am I even blogging bout it? Simple. It was fucking awesome! The preview i mean. Seriously, i watched snippets here and there and I loved it. It's about a family; one kid, parents, who are of the 'Untouchable' caste or Kohli if my knowledge on that issue is correct. Go look up caste on Wiki, I have no will to tell you. So basically what happened:
Son crosses Pakistan-India border (The border is marked by bloody white stones.)
Dad chases after son.
Both got caught and thrown into an Indian prison.
I have no idea what happens next.
See, what's awesome is the time they were in prison. There is no caste system in prisons so these guys who were once 'untouchable' in the outside world are normal humans in here. Ironic huh... I loved what the director said when she was asked why wasn't there a caste system in prison.
'When people live in such close proximity to each other, the system breaks...'- Mehreen Jabbar.
How awesome is that... Oh, did I mention that this is her first time directing?
Sunday, April 26, 2009
What I want is a bigger 'Kuali' but all I needed to do was flip the egg.
I was hungry. I went to cook, well, if you can call frying an omelete cooking then yes, i cooked. Broke the eggs, cut up the onions, added the cheese and heated up the oil. When it was hot enough, i poured in the would be omelete. That's when i realised something. See, the bottow part of the omelete was already brown, yet above it was still ummm... eggy. Yeah, eggy. So I called up the helpline in my brain and consulted with Z.Sinner and Z.Forgiver.
Me: The egg's frying weird.
Z.S.: The fuck you talking bout... The egg's frying fine
Z.F.: What do you mean man? Is this some kind off metaphor that nobody gets huh? 'The egg's frying weird?
Me: No, i literally mean the fucking egg is fucking frying weird. See, *Lifts egg slightly* bottom part brown as latino chic while its fucking slimy on top.
Z.S.: Dude... You need fucking sleep.
Z.F.: Ummm... It's a metaphor isn't it...
Me: I got it! I need a bigger kuali!
Z.F.: Whatever...
Z.S.: ...
Me: No, dude, don't you get it, if i have a bigger kuali, then the frying would be equal everywhere... As in Latino all around.
Z.F.: I'm gonna tell you a huge secret now.
Me: Which is?
Z.S. and Z.F.: Flip the egg mate.
Flip the egg. I laughed at the statement, not because of the humour/sarcasm but because i just realised how cooking the omelete really reflects on life itself. Everybody wants something more in life; more money, a better looking wife, less kids, more money... Yet, we are so consumed by these things that we don't see that the solution is so simple... We are blinded by our greed and our laziness. We just couldn't see that it's as easy as flipping the egg.
It is our nature to seek for improvement. If it's not yours, hell, you don't belong here mate. We are constantly improvising every aspect of our life. However some of us get too obsessed with it that we fail to make any improvement. So we lament and bemoan our bad luck.
I'm not saying that I'm not one of these people. Hell, I'm beyond fucked up. Sometimes I fail to see what i can actually do with a small kuali. I fail to see that I can flip the egg. Besides, there are things that i must sacrifice if i want a bigger kuali. For example, space. It'd be hell to multi-cook then.
So, I'm gonna flip the egg. What do you plan to do?
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Sleepless Nights 3
Let's see, what to ramble on now? Nothing really happened today... Maybe it was because of the fact that I woke up at 3 something. P.m... I just thought some people needed the verification. Don't you just hate the people who have no sense of time? I do. For example:
ZIZ: Dude i gotta go man... Ade klas sial esok kol 8... bapak suffer doh...
Liquifactive necrosis victim: Hahaha wtf man, 8 what, morning or night?
ZIZ: Dude... You missed an evolution cycle didnt you?
LNV: Hah? What you mean? Your class is at 8 at night or morning?
ZIZ: ...
LNV: ...
ZIZ: ZIZ is now offline.
In another scenario.
ZIZ: Shit I'm fucking hungry sial...
Some other fuck: Go eat la!
ZIZ: Its 2... Where do you expect me to find a fucking shop? All closed d la...
SOF: HAHAHA! Dude you live in a jungle ah? Why the shop all close so early one?
ZIZ: What you mean early?
SOF: Ya la close at 2 sial thats like lunch hour wei.
ZIZ: ...
SOF: ...
ZIZ: ZIZ is now offline.
Yeah feed your brain on that... Sigh... Some people... Talking bout people, I have some that I can't possibly live without.
1. Katrina Lim: My official keeper of sanity. I don't talk with her for a month and you'll see my running in the streets naked rambling shit.
2. Anila Philip: Nuff said.
3. Sukhvinder Singh/ Le Musselman: How do I put it without this fucker getting too perasan... Hmmm... My twin la basically, separated at birth and a few years; I time travelled a few years ahead, fuck you. We were Chaos in college, don't believe me, ask Lincoln College guys. Also my photography buddy. Seriously, my best works come when I was photographing with him. Shit, the dude's gonna be perasan...
4. LC geng: Tashu, Becky, yeah, you guys.
5. Budak Kampung: Kadiaq, Tot, Jadu, Bob. My kaki lepaks in Egypt. Mati doh korang takde, aku nak lepak ngan siape doh nanti
6. Zufar Ismail Zeid the Sinner and Zufar Ismail Zeid the Forgiver: If you've read my profile, then you'd know bout the two fucks living in my head. These guys are the reason behind each of my decisions, I talk to them when I need to... Something like a helpline.
7. My Family: The MOST important people in my life. I would degenarate and turn to dust if anything happens to them. I will readily throw my life for them.
Hmmmm... there are more... I just can't think... Anyways, moving on.
I just saw the lamp in my house revolve... What the fuck... I'm really sleep deprived...
Someone featured a snippet from my story Sweet Dreams... YAYNESS! That made my shitty day. Thanks Mira! Here it is:
'I thought of the commercial that was always showing on T.V. which I never understood the last time I watched it. It occurred to me how as you get older, you start to understand things more than before. A book for example. You could read the same book a million times in your lifetime but as you age, you view it from a different perspective. It has nothing to do with maturity. It is because as you live out your life, you go through a lot of things that changes you, creates a whole new person within you.'
The Killers fucking rock... I'm seriously addicted to Tranquilize... Aih... My external is dead. That means I can't write in my fucking journal and i have no access to my p***. Yes i put a fucking censor there because if I don't, people like 'Hidup Pas' will send a hatemail to me telling me that I'm gonna burn in hell because of it. Plus, he will include my family. Wait, what the hell am I doing. My external is broken and i can't watch my PORN. I'm waiting for the email, son of a fuck.
Anyways, I'm gonna end this one with a poem. Mushy, i know, fuck you. I'm not gonna change myself just cause you don't like the way I live my life. *Raspberry*
Okay, shit, I have no idea what to write. Maybe a short story instead.
Fuck i cant write le shit...
Sigh...
Fine, a quote instead.
Heaven can't have two masters, nor earth two Kings.- Alexander the Great.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
A line that is crossed.
"From: "Hidup Pas[hidup.pas.777@gmail.com]"
To: coldturkey_89@yahoo.com
wei zaim
ko la org yg ngaku Islam plg hina aku tau. blog ko tu cm blog kafir tau x? apsl ad gmbr arak? ko munum arak ke? atau ko sj nk tunjuk ko barat sgt? gi mampus la ko. memalukan org Islam je. pastu ko nk maki-maki org Islam sejati lak kn? ko fikr ko bgs sgt ke ah? ko tu serupa anjing tau x? menyalak je tau. cb ko muhasabah diri skit. tgk diri ko sblm ko nk "tegur" org. ko tu dh la pkai subang,merokok plak tu. mmg muka xde nur la org kata. pastu ko nk tgur org lak. ko bgs sgt ke hah? mak bapak ko x ajar ko ke? mngkin x kot.mngkin mak bpk ko pun minum arak n bajet baik kan? mesti ak btol. mak bpk ko mesti org umno yg bajet baik tp blakang mkn rasuah. pstu ajar ko buat benda berdosa. pirah. keluargo ko sumer sampah. adik ko pun sama. sedara ko ak xyah ckp la. x tudung, pakai baju ketat. pergh ak ckp ko, kuarga ko mesti msk neraka jahanam la. baik ko brubah. ak ckp ni utk kebaikan ko gk.”
This motherfucking piece of shit thinks it's okay to just mail something like this in hopes of helping us. Let me tell you something. You just fucking killed yourself. You just fucking crossed a fucking line that a sane person wouldn't have crossed. I'm not saying this because I'm a fucking killer that you should be afraid off. I'm saying this because I'm a human being. You do not fucking insult a person's family. If you are so self-righteous and feel the need to fucking help by fucking insulting, fucking insult us. Not our families. You think that you are doing this for the good of the Ummah, you are fucking wrong. What you are doing is inciting hate and that's it.
You said we are going to hell. Wow, I never knew you had powers to find out where a person is going when he dies. Do you know that now you are comparing yourself with Allah? Yeah, so much for your religious speech.
I pity the likes of you. Let me use a language that you would probably understand.
Kau ni la sebab orang lain pandang rendah kat orang Melayu.
Fatigue rears it's familiar head.
Anyways, talking bout dreams, my dreams are becoming weirder than ever! I mean seriously, i can take some weird dreams but these are like comparing seashells with lasagna... I... nevermind.
Examples of dreams that i had:
1. In my dream i was this really crazy sweeet talker... As in I-can-convince-sugar-that-I'm-sweeter kind of sweet. Excuse the lame terminology. So anyways, I was here and there (Short term memory lost, dont blame me) sweet talking/sweet talking while manipulating/sweet talking while hitting on them/sweet talking while etc everybody that i meet. Then i was in this big ass castle, nope, you didn't guess it, Buckingham Palace. I think.
So i walked around, sweet talked/sweet talked while manipulated/sweet talked while hitting on palace maids (hmm)/sweet talked while etc until i came into this room where, nope, you did not guess it again, i concluded that it was the Queen's room. No, this is not 18 and above material. Please, if it wasm I'll prolly wont survive the dream.
I met the Queen and, God you're bad at guessing, Sir Walter Raleigh. How fucked up is that? If I had met Amy Lee or Aleister Crowley I'd be happy but that dude, no way... Back to the story.
Check this out, I asked for Sir Walter for a cigarette. I'll give you a moment to un-choke yourself. Okay? Anyways, yes, I asked for a cigarette. He refused; did i mention he hated me? Then the Queen gave me a marlboro. I will again give you time to un-choke yourself. Yes and that was one cool Marlboro. Had this intricate patterns on it. Then i sweet talked the Queen till i woke up confused. *shakes head*
P.s.- I am in no way a sweet talker. Really, you beautiful/handsome creature, would you not believe me, a lowly person that could never dream of achieving your glory? Again, I am not a sweet talker.
2. This was crazy. I dreamt there's this dude, who takes care of our needs in our apartment called Miki, who tried to kill me/bebudak kampung. In the dream all of us went down and saw the dude and started to insult him. The dude walked away, the others disappeared, Miki came with a shotgun and started to shoot yours truly. What the fuck?
So I ran and hid behind a car. He found me there, and as i dodged, he shot me. I got shot. By a shotgun. Guess what i did? I loaded. As in I loaded my life as if it was some kind of game. Yes i did. So i escaped and jumped into a manhole that has been conveniently removed for my benefit. The rest of the dream included me running in sewage material and Miki trying to kill me. I think he bombed himself... Not sure....
I have strayed from the topic... I am tired. I have no idea why, the lack of sleep maybe but i just feel like lying down and sleeping for a whole week. God that would do wonders... My external hard disk has ceased to function, a few bangs on the table should repair it...
I am going now. Yes I am.
5
4
3
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Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Sleepless Nights 2
I'm looking towards alternatives like bloody sleeping pills or hypnosis though i doubt the latter would do any good.
Anyways, as promised, I will ramble on bout today. If you have any objections bout me being a blog-man-whore i.e. posting twice today, here's what i think. *Middle finger stretched out in all it's glory*
What was interesting today? Maybe it was the freaky occurence where everytime i look at the time, the numbers repeat itself. Examples: 18:18, 23:23. Coincidence or just oure unadulterated luck. Meh, it came and went.
Pops messaged me today, since we are Arsenal fans (Ngehehehe...) He was like 'Wah so fired up ah? Chill la...' Papa using those words. God I love my dad. I'm still waiting for his reply bout the 4-4 draw. Prolly he's gonna say things like 'Dang nigga, we almost won...' Okay, no, that was too much. That would be way too over, even for my dad (XD)
What else... Oh, oh, Pharmacology exams went okay. By okay i mean, The-questions-did-not-come-out-and-stab-me or The-questions-did-not-haunt-me. So yes, it went pretty okay. Kudos to Zap for the help on questions 1,2,3,4 and 16. What, a man has his rights to copy.
I am intrigued by Aleister Crowley. Fucker is my bloody idol nowadays... The way he lived his life can be symmed up very simply. "Be as weird as possible." I'm not kidding, this dude's weirdness goes beyond human level. Yet, that's the exact same reason why I'm in lov- no, i mean admire him. *Ahem*
I am seriously cutting down on my smoking... A box an now last for 3 days. That s a huge, gigantic, titanic leap for me. It's like jumping from KOMTAR to KLCC. Yes, metaphorically speaking. Why you ask? I have no idea. Prolly cause i need to. Meh, I'll most likely go back heavy once I'm back in M'sia. You know, with Dunhills everywhere. Temptations that i for one, will not be able to resist.
Dengan ini, saya menghentikan aksi mem-boycott Cure/Kedai Naser/Kedai Lipas/ Kedai dekat rumah yang selalu dapat makan free memalam. I can't take the evading and buat bodoh-ing Muhammad's and Naser's plea for me to eat at their shop. It's ridiculous. If I find a cockroach in my food then... I'll prolly go berserk and ask for bloody free 'firah (firakh?) mashwi (mashwee?)'s. Or I'll just undergo a total brain shutdown.
I believe thats what my sleep/oxygen dperived brain can think of. Till the next time I can't sleep, ciow.
The new Arsenal.
Where was the fast short passing that the former Arsenal (During the times of Henry, Bergkamp and Pires) always used? Those were the days where I'd stare in utter amusement and won't even move from the TV (Unless my mom uses the tactic; 'Zufar Ismail!' Yeah, the way i sprint to be by my mom's side would put bloody national sprinters to shame.)... I watched the game just know and there wasn't even a pass worth noting. They kept losing the ball to Liverpool and well, it was a miracle we didn't lose.
Some players are really amazing but the others are, well, fucked up. Let's review:
1. Arshavin: Okay, if i ever met this guy, I'd fucking kiss the soles of his feet. Truly, I was taken aback by his footballing.
2. Theo Walcott: Such speed.
3. Song: A fair share of skill to this guy...
4. Bendtner: A sad excuse for a striker. God damn it, sell him already...
I understand that as time goes, you need to change the play according to the squad but just now, it was just horrible. I mean incomplete passes, misskicks... Don't get me started on the defense... The only thing they deserved is a firing squad...
Maybe in time they will improve but does this mean the team has to look like a couple of idiots chasing the ball before that? I know that Wenger was saving the key players for the game against M.U. but seriously, it is better to play respectable football and lose than to play a crazy uncoordinated game and win.
That's just what i think.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Let the world be that of silence.
I really have to bow down to people like Kat and Ani who really keep my sanity checked. I swear, these are the people who; in their absence, will drive me suicidal. A thank you to you for putting up with me especially on those nights where you helped me when you needed the sleep.
Still, i can't depend solely on these people that I already adopted as my faily members. So i thought and i thought. How do i calm myself? More importantly, what is making me so agitated. I continued on searching. Two years ago, thankfully, i found the answer which may have arrived just in time. Meaning it came after a two month long depression period which was bad, real bad. I found out that at some point, i have a tremendous hate towards well, people. The reason is yet unbeknownst to me. I just do. I take a walk in a crowded place and i feel like going crazy. I feel... Disgusted... I really did... You might not realise it but go to the nearest window you see and look out. Can you really honestly tell me that you are contented with everything that you see? If you aren;t, multiply that by a hundred and you might get near to what i felt...
Maybe you think that I'm (and I'm pretty sure theres a lot of you that do.) a tad bit emotional. What if i am? It doesn't make any difference. The things i did to calm myself down... I think it would be better not to disclose the details... Bottom line is, i found what could make me calm.
Isolation.
It really did the job. Isolation from people, isolation form the noise, isolation from the cold stares and fake laughs. In days that I feel down, it kills me just to meet a person and put up with him. I'd like to scream;
LEAVE ME ALONE MOTHERFUCKER!
but i doubt that would be appropriate in any way. So i force myself to smile and act normal while inside I am burning up... Sometimes i run. Sometimes i ignore. To those of you who have caught me on these days, truly, forgive me, it was inevitable. I had to do it for my good and possibly yours.
This is the reason i love rooftops. People rarely tread that path and the wind seems to caress me and ask; 'Why the sad face, child?'. That really helps and i will tell everything, everything to the invisible helper. Then i leave, go down, and get some coffee which is the second greatest gift from God.
I have to clear something up. I, in no way, am better than anybody else. We are all the same and i doubt we have that much difference. You might say; 'Hell, I'm a human too, so you hate me?' and stab me in the heart (O.O). No, when i can call you my 'friend', that already separates you from other people. Besides, the hatred i have is more towards the character, not the substance.
Then you say; 'You are human too. What right do you have in hating and judging others?'. I, as a thinking person, always have rights. You throw me on an island, i will still have my bloody rights. How do you expect me to not judge when you are exposing yourself too much? It's like a reflex...
Anyways, i have said what i wanted to. Not happy? That's what the comment box is created for. Still not happy? That's the signal for you to move the cursor to the red box on the far right of the screen and click it. Problem solved. But really, do leave a comment, I'm desperate for them...
Till something interesting comes up, ciow.
A/N: Tomorrow is pharmacology exam day!
Note: The statement above is voiced out in a very... painful manner...
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Dream Girl
I have mine. A childhood friend of some sort. We lost contact until we found ourselves attending the same highschool. As usual, me being the ignorant person i am never even realised she was there. Instead, i looked at the self-made goddesses and dream that one day, one day it might just happen. She (my friend, not the goddesses) was always there, handing out food occasionally. I always made bets with her... I remember one where i won five bucks from her from stuffing a whole green apple into my mouth! Those were good days...
School ended and our activities together became a memory. See, it's true when people say that you'll only miss what matters to you when it's gone... And i did! I mean, we contacted each other and everything but not having her by my side was what i missed the most. That was when i realised she was the one... She was my Dream Girl...
So i pondered on how to make her know. To people who really know me, they'd know that i'm a fucking coward when it comes to girls i like. Yes, i truly am. Basically, i was so afraid about it that i let it linger in my mind... I have my reasons. I think the most prominent one is that i was scared she would refuse and stop befriending me. That would kill me. For real.
Then finally, on the day i was about to leave for Egypt, at the fucking airport, i started to type out the message. The reply? She felt the same. At that moment, i hated myself for not telling her earlier, for being such a fucking coward. I sighed, and made for the airport gateway.
When i was here, i started to feel guilty. What i did was fucking selfish. She could have gotten another person which may have been better than me. Now, she has me as a restriction. So i decided to straighten out things. I messaged her. It went like this:
Me: What's been up/How are you etc etc
She: A reply to above
Me: Listen you aren't, by any chance, waiting are you?
She: For what? A bus?
Me: Uh... No... For you know, me?
She: You know me better than that Zuffie. No, I'm not good at waiting.
Me: Thats good to hear... I'd be guilty as hell if you did.
She: I'm sure you would be.
So yeah, i was crushed for a while... But then i told myself that it's a good thing. She deserves someone to be there in her times of need. I am, unfortunately, not that person. Sigh.
Holy fuck. I am waaayyy too emo... Seriously Egypt has fucking messed up my brain. Dammit...
Oh well, a story bout my dream girl. To Alexandrians: Pretend you did not read this.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
And my playlist held the blade.
Example: Are you lonesome tonight by Elvis Presley
Are you lonesome tonight... Do you miss me tonight...Are you sorry we drifted apart... Is your heart filled with pain... Shall i come back again... Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight...
Thats like bloody pure genius... It doesn't matter how many layers of kevlar you wear, hell it's gonna hit you and it's gonna wound you. In a metaphoric sense...
*Sighums*... Songs can really kill you... As in for real... I heard this dude listened to Superstar by the Carpenters and went loco... Music...
Anyways, back to reality... I wrote a new short story bout euthanasia... Bestie and lifelong companion gave me that idea... What I'd do without these guys... Oh now November Rain is playing... Shit! Whenever this song plays, i'll have the urge to put on Don't Cry next.. Dammit! But still, Guns n Roses, you guys fucking rule my eardrums!
When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Gah! steady, steady. *ahem* Excuse the interruption... Arsenal lost... That sucked... a lot... But life goes on, another game, another day... I have no doubt that I will be an Arsenal fan till... God knows when...
Oh a thought occured to me. Imagine this. Okay, what if you were infatuated with a person of the opposite sex and he/she turns out to be infatuated with your friend who doesn't even know he/she exists? Le Gasp! Now that's a huge fuck up... Moving on.
I realised that i function better in my sleep deprived state. I really do, i even type faster *the keyboard screams in agony* But i do realise my eyeballs might pop out and destroy themselves rather than be in yours truly... So i shall retire to my bed for now...
Short story - Sweet Dreams
They told me not to be afraid. With meaty hands resting on my shoulders they hurried me on, mouthing encouraging words with robotic voices but all they did was restricting my movement. I had nowhere to run to, I a can only move forward. In truth, they were parasites, forcing my body to move abnormally. I had no intention on reaching ‘
It started when I was six years old. These men in fancy black suits stormed into our house and inquired about my parents in static robotic voices. I told them they were still working at the store. They said they would wait. A woman arrived later on. All the men addressed her as ma’am and did not dare look at her in the eyes. I hated her. She had an aura shrouded around her, seeping out of her through every pore of her body; the one that I sensed when Great Aunt Jenna passed away and dad took me to her funeral. Even when she smiled, even when she called me a cute little girl, I felt as if she had her hands around my neck like the squids on Discovery Channel, smothering me. Strangling me. She even had the same robotic voice the men had. I ran into my room and hid under the bed after that. My parents came home a few hours later. The men stayed on and then I heard the woman conversing with my parents in a very a serious tone, the way bad guys talk on T.V. would. My father nodded at everything she said. When they left, I heard dad saying things like ‘It’s inevitable’ and ‘We knew this day was bound to come’. Mom kept silent. She always does that. I hate that about her.
Three days later, my eldest sister, Emily, went missing. She was twelve. I was hysterical and cried the whole day. I begged my father to go look for her. He told me that she had gone to boarding school and won’t be back for a long, long time. I did not believe a word he said. He blinks a lot when he lies. After that, everywhere I went, everything I did, I kept on thinking of Emily. The dining table always had an empty seat. The funfair was not as interesting without Emily. She never came home, not during my eighth birthday party, not when we moved, not even when Uncle Bill got married.
The T.V. started to show weird commercials. The government was launching a new campaign or something. I did not understand a word the woman was saying. All I know was that it was for the greater good of the people and that we should all accept it. I changed the channel.
I still think of Emily once in awhile and kept hoping that one day she would walk through the front gate, full of confidence and then everything would be normal again. The twins, Ben and Zack are going to be twelve in a few months. All my friends think they are so handsome and so cool. I’d laugh it off and told them that if they knew of their habits at home, they would not be so interested in them.
Two days later, the men in fancy suits and robotic voices came again. I was not afraid, not anymore. Nobody is going to take anything from my life again. I grabbed the sharpest knife in the kitchen and stormed into the living room. I knew that I was ten but that would not stop me from taking action. It will not serve as a barrier to me. Just as I was about to enter the living room something stopped me. A hand. A fragile one. Shivering. I spun around and saw mom just staring at me. I told her to let go, I told her to let me make a stand. She just stood there and never did. Then the tears started to flow and she told me to stand down. I cried too. I knew what was going to happen next. I knew I was going to lose Ben and Zack. I’m going to be alone again. Before the men left, they said they were coming back in two days and told us to ready ourselves. How heartless can we humans be.
Two days later they came as promised. It was one of the darkest days of my life. I just stayed in my room, crouched in one corner, trying to squeeze my way deeper and deeper. I heard Zack shouting and stuff falling. Ben who was more level-headed shouted at him and told him to stay calm. Then I heard a thud, of wood or metal against a head, and Zack’s voice was of the past. Mom screamed and cried, her voice choking against the spasms in her throat. Then there was the sound of vehicles coming to life and leaving the premise of our house. And that was when my tears started to flow. I have lost them. And I could do nothing about it. I will never again see their smile, their laughter. I will never see them fight, never again will I be protected when I get bullied. Never again. I stood up and brushed my clothes, wiped the tears with the corners of my sleeves and punched the mirror of my dressing table. The shards cut into me and I bled. It felt good. The pain felt good. I never cried again after that day. Not when my relatives dies, not when Babe, my
There was no more joy in our house. It was as if the angels themselves had run out of tears and left, leaving a void of nothingness in their absence. The empty seats only served as a reminder of what we went through, what we had lost. I never talked to my father after what happened. My conscience cannot accept the fact that this man that I had once referred to as my father could still sit at the dining table, drink his coffee and read the paper while his children are somewhere out there crying for help. For him. For their so-called father. To think that I am part of his flesh and blood made me sick.
Every now and then I would wake up in the middle of the night and find my mother in the living room, crumpled in one corner. Her eyes reflects no light at all, lifeless. Those once lively green eyes… The first time I saw her, I comforted her, tried to get her back on her feet. I thought I had succeeded the first time, I thought by lending her a shoulder to cry on, she would be alright. Of course, I was wrong when a couple of days later, she would be in the same spot, her lifeless eyes directed nowhere. I used to care. Now, I would just close my eyes and return to the welcoming warmth of oblivion.
Today I turned twelve. The men in fancy black suits did not come. I panicked. What if I’m spared? What if I get singled out? I was far from being overjoyed. I did not want to be in this position! I do not want to be the one who lived to tell the tale! I want to be there with the ones that were dragged away from the warmth of their home. I want to be tortured, to be the one who have lost all hope in life like the many others.
The men did come. They were a week late. I wasn’t saddened nor was I thinking of running away. I might’ve even smiled when they drove in. This time, my parents were right there waiting with me. The men walked in, apologised for the delay, took me by the shoulders and we entered the car. Through the rear mirror, I saw my mother nod to my father. As the car moved further away, I saw my father shoot my mother in the head and then turned the gun on him. The car took a left and my house disappeared form view. I kept mum but I confirmed one thing. I did not imagine what he had said when he gave me to the men.
“Take care, Alicia. Take care, girl. I love you. We love you. We’re sorry.”
We arrived at a small building. They took me in and asked me to wait. I thought of the commercial that was always showing on T.V. which I never understood the last time I watched it. It occurred to me how as you get older, you start to understand things more than before. A book for example. You could read the same book a million times in your lifetime but as you age, you view it from a different perspective. It has nothing to do with maturity. It is because as you live out your life, you go through a lot of things that changes you, creates a whole new person within you.
They said they were ready for me. I was ushered into a room where there were a hundred other kids my age. Some were terrified. I could tell that they were the first ones in the family. Most of the others had the same expression as me. We were told of the function of the facility. They were hiding something, their eyes were clouded with the amount of lie they were telling. They told us of
A few hours later, one by one, we were lead through a long tunnel. They said it was the way to
She greeted me in such a cheerful mood but all I can sense is that she brings danger. As if she was the angel of death herself. She tried to touch me but I refused. I felt that if she touched me, I would be poisoned, melt or even be turned into her. Then she spoke;
“Come now child… You do want to see your sister and brothers again don’t you? It’s going to be very hard if you won’t even let me touch you.”
I did not trust her, not one bit. However, the thought of being reunited with my siblings was one that I could not resist. I lowered my defences; the wall that I had formed around me ever since Ben and Zack was taken away came crumbling down. She told me to lie down on the cold metal table. I did as she told me. Without any warning whatsoever, she inserted a needle into my skin. I did not struggle; I did not even say anything. I just closed my eyes and remembered the commercial that kept playing on the T.V.
Today, a campaign was launched by the government in hopes of preserving the brightest people the world has known. These men and women have contributed so much towards the development of our beloved country and according to the spokesman and I quote ‘…by elongating their lifespan, they could bring further development towards our country. It would be a waste to let them be snatched away from us by none other than death…’ Currently, no one knows of the means by which the government has taken for this to be achieved. The answer given to us was a puzzling one. It is said that the term ‘the youth are the future of the nation’ is literally true. It is also said that the population growth could be controlled by this. Could this be a family planning campaign? Nobody knows for sure.
In other matters, it is said that the number of cases has reached an all time high. The reason is yet to be discovered.
The last thing I heard from the woman was ‘Sweet dreams.’. The light faded soon after.
Sleepless Nights - One
I'm gonna do this everytime i can't sleep which, coincidentally, happens a lot nowadays... No, i do not know why, it could be the mounting stress, it could be i'm a Jedi (O.o)... Anyway...
Yes, as i was saying, this happens a lot so there'll be a whole lot more posts like this (The author's alter ego laughs his head off)... Hmmm.. A lot has happened... Let's start with:
- I moved back into my old house. Go figure...
- I passed my fucking exams!!!!!!!!
Under normal circumstances that would make anybody pretty unhappy. Yes, that includes me... However, the circumstances are abnormal.. Lemme explain by the figure/chart/flow-chart?/thing below.
-pass - Able to return to M'sia for Summer - M'sian luxuries! And meeting a someone.
Exam
-fail - Repeat paper, lose a shitload of money, miss the chance to go back and make a certain someone very, very unhappy...
Okay, the diagram is fucking ugly, i admit... What do you expect, bloody textbook stuff? Get over it. Anyway, yes, i believe anyone would understand this (as ugly as it is). If you don't, please, torture yourself no more, theres a whole lot of other blogs you can read...
Okay, shit... How does this bullet and numbering stuff work anyway... Hmmmmm...
3. I coughed up some phelgm+blood this morning... I know...
4. I am currently reading Dante's Divine Comedy... Which is hard... Very hard...
That reminds me, how long has it been since i held a paperback book in my hands? A month? I missed that feeling... You know, paper on hand, the smell... Priceles... I mean i have no beef against E-books but it's just not the same... For example, I'm not the kind that could go around lugging my laptop with me... While with a book, i could take it anywhere i want, anytime and any... you get the point. I used to go to the toilet reading a novel... Those days are gone now...
5. I NEED FUCKING FEEDBACK DAMMIT!!!!!
Yes, this pisses me off. Really. I joined a certain website so that i could get at least a small nuber of feedback to improve on my writing. At first it seemed promising since everybody was a writer. I posted a short story and a poem. And waited... And waited... And waited somemore... No comments whatsoever... Okay, i told myself... Maybe it's because i'm new... So i decided to leave it for a few days and check back later. What i saw brought out the worst in me. There was this post above mine which had a shitload of comments! I was intrigues, how good was this guy. So i opened it, and stared in disbelieve.
What was in there you ask... I am trying my best not to demolish my keyboard as i write this... Anyway, turns out it was some love letter the user wrote to another user... A love letter... A fucking love letter... A fucking love letter that had nothing worth noting in it... Oh, and did i mention the writer have never met, smiled or talked to the other user in real life? I admit that maybe i am a bit biased here. However, i read that piece and I wasn't impressed... Basically it was easier if the author wrote: I love you. Sigh... I'll stop here...
Thank you for reading....