It seems to be important since it's part of taking a persons history and all.
See, they defined it as something that's pretty awesome ie; genuineness means the ability to be yourself in a relationship despite your professional role. Then they ruined the whole fucking thing by summarizing that you should just be 'genuine' and try your best to get the patient talking. How bout manipulative? Hmmm, somehow the latter sounds much better.
Yeah, I get it, who am I to talk ey? But fuck, my genuineness means this: I don't give a flying fuck who you are, I just want to know what's wrong with you, and then I want to move on. I don't fucking care who you are, I don't care what position you hold in the decrepit society and I don't care how awesome you'd look without your bra. Wait, scratch the last one, if you're Cracked stock boob chic, then yeah, I do care. Very much so. Wait, where was I?
Oh yeah, I don't care bout you. Frankly I doubt anybody even do. What I'm very much interested in is about how your body fucked up and what caused it and that's it. Treating you is optional. Refer above for Cracked boob chic dilemma.
Of course I can put that smiley face and tell you that it's all going to be okay. I'll take your hand, tell you you're not alone. Tell you that I'll cross oceans and fiery mountains with a gay companion in a quest to rid the world of the one ring- wait. I meant to cure. To cure. *cough* I can do all that but of course, that'd be lying. It'd beat the whole point. I will cease to be genuine.
If I'm genuine, heck, if all doctors are genuine, the world will be a much better place. Why? There'd be a fuckload more dead bodies and more doctors wandering around thinking 'Hey, even if they all died a horrible death, at least I'm genuine. At least I'm true to myself.'
Most of us are not at a level in which we are ready to do all the pure stuff. Telling the truth, preaching, not be a manipulative bastard, preaching, forgiving, preaching, preaching. Uh, you get the point. Everybody wants us to be all this, fuck, even you'd; I emphasise, YOU"D like to be able to do all this but fuck it mate, there's a reason why we have to go through life and make these mistakes. You don't drive in a place you don't know and not take a wrong turning. It's the norm, the secularism, the way it should be. You don't lie about some stuff, you'll end up being this fucktard that'd get fucked over and over because people can't handle the truth. You don't be a manipulative fucker and you end up... uh... well, there are ways to rise but manipulating is so fun, fuck you holy people!
To be able to do all this, it takes a pure heart (Snicker). I mean that not in a sense of religion but in a sense of being human. Pure. And nopes, sorry to hack through your bubble with a chainsaw mate, you ain't pure. Especially when you're a fucking doctor. You've got blood on your hands. Literally.
Therefore, I conclude that being genuine will result in your ultimate downfall. Being me on the other hand, well, let's just say...
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Sleepless Nights 26 - World's End 1
Nothingness. Or is everything compressed in a way that it seems like they aren't even there? Is everything in fact nothing, and that it's all in front of your eyes but they're all covered by your blind spot that all you see is a wide plain, as wide as the eye can see, until it reaches the horizon and maybe still continues to a point that your mind cannot decipher; as if you're looking at a galactic filament and realise how inferior you are in the world... Your mind refuses to accept that reality, you shut it all away and you see nothing. A delusion really, just a delusion.
You walk around, your shoes clicking and echoing (Do you even have shoes on? Are you even walking? Or just gliding?). Your eyes look at the emptiness, at the purity of it all, the white walls that stretch to no end, the walls... The walls are huge and towering, like mountains but at the same time meager, perishable, you shiver at the thought yet you know not why. You struggle and you quiver to try and make sense of this whole new depth of perception but you fail, it seems that the harder you try, the more complicated it seems.
So, there's a point when you stop thinking, stop trying, stop making things more complicated then it already fucking is. Everything starts to materialise, the walls crumble and fall, it's a horrific phase when everything is destroyed, everything disintegrates... And everything appears. No more blind spots, no more delusions. Just reality. Right to your face. You enter the World's End.
You scream out of terror at first, oh yes, you cry for Mommy, you close your eyes, trying in futile to shut the doors of your mind, to run, to ignore... Yet a part of you forces you to accept, telling you that once the gates are open, it can never be closed again, that the gatekeepers are fuckers to begin with, reckless too. You brought this upon yourself, you have to handle the consequence.
Slowly now. Slowly.
Worlds collide and fuse together, creating a plane of existence for beings foreign, cities appear; Necropolises, Empires, Fairy Land, Mars, Ryleh, Troy, Innsmouth... It all came out. Your dreams and nightmares. All laid out. You see gods and mortals, celebrities and beggars, all there in their outfits, all conversing, all oblivious to your presence. You see Zeus and Dream making a deal, Azatoth sleeping as usual, John Constantine and Loki having a cup of tea (Constantine has no idea what is in his tea and you find no reason to tell him.), Stephen King meeting his creations and in all this confusion, you failed to notice Cthulhu walking - Gliding? Or was he swimming, you couldn't tell - up to you.
"Got a fag?" he - or is it a she? Or an it? - inquired. You choke. The Great Old One asking you for a fucking cigarette. He had a blindfold over his eyes. You thank god for those little details He remembered to add. In all the time you were on the verge of having an anaphylactic shock, Cthulhu must have frowned - Or something, your brain wasn't exactly in perfect working conditions.
"You don't have to worry, it's not for me, it's for uh... Shoggoth... Really, I swore off cigarettes a millenia ago..." He/She/It seemed anxious. Right then you saw Thor sneering. Maybe it wasn't directed to you because Cthulhu quietly took his leave while muttering curses.
You tried to digest what happened but you can't. It's all too fucking absurd, too fucking far fetched that all this seems to be a dream.
"It's not." A voice chirped from behind. You turned around and came face to face with a fucking spider. A fucking spider. That can fucking talk.
"What?"
"All this, it's not a dream." All you can think of is where the fuck is the Spider's mouth.
"Then... what is it?"
"It's not what, you pathetic little mortal, it's where."
"So... Where am I."
"Glad you asked, been waiting for ages for someone stupid enough to walk in here without knowing jackshit about this place. I guess I should be the first one to welcome you to World's End."
"World's what?"
"End. World's fucking end. I'm Anansi if you really must know." Right then, he lit a cigar. You watch this with a fair amount of amusement and then you realised that you have no idea how it happened. "This is where we all wait for the storm to end."
"What storm? There wasn't even a fucking storm to begin with. And how the fuck can you even do that?" You stare at the orifice where smoke was pouring out. It was both disturbing and amazing at the same time.
"Of course there was. Storms come in millions of ways, from the sky, from the earth, in your dreams, and in your particular case, you created the storm in your mind. You triggered this. That's what made the Gatekeepers send you here. You know, for your own protection. Or so they say. Lazy son of a bitches all of them. I got sent here for no apparent reason. That being said, I've some urgent matters to attend to, hope you get comfy here mate, it's gonna be a long wait, I'll tell you that." He scuttled away, a trail of smoke following him like will-o-wisps.
Mouth gaping open, you start walking.
Prophets preached and sinners laughed. Tentacles and bubbles coexist, Lucifer and Gabriel had a couple of shots of whiskey and checked into a motel in a drunken stupor.
And all the while you're asking yourself what the fuck is happening.
You walk around, your shoes clicking and echoing (Do you even have shoes on? Are you even walking? Or just gliding?). Your eyes look at the emptiness, at the purity of it all, the white walls that stretch to no end, the walls... The walls are huge and towering, like mountains but at the same time meager, perishable, you shiver at the thought yet you know not why. You struggle and you quiver to try and make sense of this whole new depth of perception but you fail, it seems that the harder you try, the more complicated it seems.
So, there's a point when you stop thinking, stop trying, stop making things more complicated then it already fucking is. Everything starts to materialise, the walls crumble and fall, it's a horrific phase when everything is destroyed, everything disintegrates... And everything appears. No more blind spots, no more delusions. Just reality. Right to your face. You enter the World's End.
You scream out of terror at first, oh yes, you cry for Mommy, you close your eyes, trying in futile to shut the doors of your mind, to run, to ignore... Yet a part of you forces you to accept, telling you that once the gates are open, it can never be closed again, that the gatekeepers are fuckers to begin with, reckless too. You brought this upon yourself, you have to handle the consequence.
Slowly now. Slowly.
Worlds collide and fuse together, creating a plane of existence for beings foreign, cities appear; Necropolises, Empires, Fairy Land, Mars, Ryleh, Troy, Innsmouth... It all came out. Your dreams and nightmares. All laid out. You see gods and mortals, celebrities and beggars, all there in their outfits, all conversing, all oblivious to your presence. You see Zeus and Dream making a deal, Azatoth sleeping as usual, John Constantine and Loki having a cup of tea (Constantine has no idea what is in his tea and you find no reason to tell him.), Stephen King meeting his creations and in all this confusion, you failed to notice Cthulhu walking - Gliding? Or was he swimming, you couldn't tell - up to you.
"Got a fag?" he - or is it a she? Or an it? - inquired. You choke. The Great Old One asking you for a fucking cigarette. He had a blindfold over his eyes. You thank god for those little details He remembered to add. In all the time you were on the verge of having an anaphylactic shock, Cthulhu must have frowned - Or something, your brain wasn't exactly in perfect working conditions.
"You don't have to worry, it's not for me, it's for uh... Shoggoth... Really, I swore off cigarettes a millenia ago..." He/She/It seemed anxious. Right then you saw Thor sneering. Maybe it wasn't directed to you because Cthulhu quietly took his leave while muttering curses.
You tried to digest what happened but you can't. It's all too fucking absurd, too fucking far fetched that all this seems to be a dream.
"It's not." A voice chirped from behind. You turned around and came face to face with a fucking spider. A fucking spider. That can fucking talk.
"What?"
"All this, it's not a dream." All you can think of is where the fuck is the Spider's mouth.
"Then... what is it?"
"It's not what, you pathetic little mortal, it's where."
"So... Where am I."
"Glad you asked, been waiting for ages for someone stupid enough to walk in here without knowing jackshit about this place. I guess I should be the first one to welcome you to World's End."
"World's what?"
"End. World's fucking end. I'm Anansi if you really must know." Right then, he lit a cigar. You watch this with a fair amount of amusement and then you realised that you have no idea how it happened. "This is where we all wait for the storm to end."
"What storm? There wasn't even a fucking storm to begin with. And how the fuck can you even do that?" You stare at the orifice where smoke was pouring out. It was both disturbing and amazing at the same time.
"Of course there was. Storms come in millions of ways, from the sky, from the earth, in your dreams, and in your particular case, you created the storm in your mind. You triggered this. That's what made the Gatekeepers send you here. You know, for your own protection. Or so they say. Lazy son of a bitches all of them. I got sent here for no apparent reason. That being said, I've some urgent matters to attend to, hope you get comfy here mate, it's gonna be a long wait, I'll tell you that." He scuttled away, a trail of smoke following him like will-o-wisps.
Mouth gaping open, you start walking.
Prophets preached and sinners laughed. Tentacles and bubbles coexist, Lucifer and Gabriel had a couple of shots of whiskey and checked into a motel in a drunken stupor.
And all the while you're asking yourself what the fuck is happening.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Those damned photographs...
I was on facebook (You fucken addict...) and saw this old friend of mine putting up photos of our last year in high school. Yeah, those days. Those fucken days.
In which I try reminiscing about but I can't think of one fucken memory.
I looked at all the photos and this sudden realisation dawned upon me.
I wasn't in any of them. Zero.
Yeah, okay, I might be a tad bit of an antisocial (A little. Yeah. Definitely.) but to evade the hundreds of shots is... Amazing... The probability of that happening just doesn't fit.
I mean, it was the school carnival. That in its essence should mean that I should've been there. It was the fucking last day of school. Obviously a sane fucker would be there.
I wasn't. I mean, yeah, there's a million reasons on how I could've been absent but seriously.
Where the fuck was I? Whoever went to school with me please fucking answer.
I thought I was pretty social. I mean at my level it meant, talk when talking is needed. I was never the corner-of-the-room freak. Heck, I think I'm a fucking attention seeker at that point.
Anyways, Community Medicine is being a fat bitch with a bad voice.
And to the owner of the blog 'The Velvet Chronicles': Who the fuck are you?
In which I try reminiscing about but I can't think of one fucken memory.
I looked at all the photos and this sudden realisation dawned upon me.
I wasn't in any of them. Zero.
Yeah, okay, I might be a tad bit of an antisocial (A little. Yeah. Definitely.) but to evade the hundreds of shots is... Amazing... The probability of that happening just doesn't fit.
I mean, it was the school carnival. That in its essence should mean that I should've been there. It was the fucking last day of school. Obviously a sane fucker would be there.
I wasn't. I mean, yeah, there's a million reasons on how I could've been absent but seriously.
Where the fuck was I? Whoever went to school with me please fucking answer.
I thought I was pretty social. I mean at my level it meant, talk when talking is needed. I was never the corner-of-the-room freak. Heck, I think I'm a fucking attention seeker at that point.
Anyways, Community Medicine is being a fat bitch with a bad voice.
And to the owner of the blog 'The Velvet Chronicles': Who the fuck are you?
Friday, February 12, 2010
Sleepless Nights 25 - Our Pride.
"Imagine our fucking pride... Thinking we're the centre of the universe... And that whatever created the universe looks out for us and only us... Then u c shit like them filaments (Galactic Filaments)...
Pride... Definitely my favourite sin..."
Pride.
We go around telling people we know so fucking much. When put in comparison with what we know and what we don't, our knowledge is like Earth compared to the fucking Galactic Filaments. We're inferior to the point that our existence is in truth... a negligible error.
Look at the examples of how proud our kind is. We know more about the fucking moon and the celestial bodies when we can't even fucking solve the mystery behind the Bloop.
We tell about how the fucking human body functions when we don't even have a fucking definite answer about the vasodilating mechanism of the coronaries.
Pride. Pride. Pride.
Truth is, we avoid all possible complications and cover it all up by doing something that attracts attention. There's a weird unexplainable sound in the sea? Heck, give some lame ass excuse and tell the people bout life on Mars instead.
There's so many mysteries on earth that's so intriguing, so downright what the fuck material. And nobody nowadays wants to give a damn to even care. Can you fucking imagine the awesomeness if that sound turns out to be Cthulhu instead? I mean look at it. The coordinates of the sound is about the same place as Ryleh, how fucking coincidental is that? And yeah, i kinda am wishing that it's fucking Cthulhu.
I think that of all the things that we say (ZS: Like being superior. ZF: Being awesome.), truth is we're just dead cells of something far greater than us, innate byproducts of some passing entity. While we may come from something great, it doesn't mean we are...
Through all this, I realise that what I truly crave in this world is fucking knowledge. Fucking knowledge. I crave for it, no, lust for it. The very thought of knowing is just so... so... fulfilling... Not knowing is fucking poison coursing in my veins , gnawing at my insides...
Fucking hell. As soon as I have the means, I'm gonna go scuba fucking diving into the fucking ocean. After all, if I am to die, why not die in the hands of the Great Old Ones. That way, I'll prolly go to the afterlife and find Lovecraft and get to say 'Holy fuck, you were right bitch!'.
Whatever it is mateys, I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.
Pride... Definitely my favourite sin..."
Pride.
We go around telling people we know so fucking much. When put in comparison with what we know and what we don't, our knowledge is like Earth compared to the fucking Galactic Filaments. We're inferior to the point that our existence is in truth... a negligible error.
Look at the examples of how proud our kind is. We know more about the fucking moon and the celestial bodies when we can't even fucking solve the mystery behind the Bloop.
We tell about how the fucking human body functions when we don't even have a fucking definite answer about the vasodilating mechanism of the coronaries.
Pride. Pride. Pride.
Truth is, we avoid all possible complications and cover it all up by doing something that attracts attention. There's a weird unexplainable sound in the sea? Heck, give some lame ass excuse and tell the people bout life on Mars instead.
There's so many mysteries on earth that's so intriguing, so downright what the fuck material. And nobody nowadays wants to give a damn to even care. Can you fucking imagine the awesomeness if that sound turns out to be Cthulhu instead? I mean look at it. The coordinates of the sound is about the same place as Ryleh, how fucking coincidental is that? And yeah, i kinda am wishing that it's fucking Cthulhu.
I think that of all the things that we say (ZS: Like being superior. ZF: Being awesome.), truth is we're just dead cells of something far greater than us, innate byproducts of some passing entity. While we may come from something great, it doesn't mean we are...
Through all this, I realise that what I truly crave in this world is fucking knowledge. Fucking knowledge. I crave for it, no, lust for it. The very thought of knowing is just so... so... fulfilling... Not knowing is fucking poison coursing in my veins , gnawing at my insides...
Fucking hell. As soon as I have the means, I'm gonna go scuba fucking diving into the fucking ocean. After all, if I am to die, why not die in the hands of the Great Old Ones. That way, I'll prolly go to the afterlife and find Lovecraft and get to say 'Holy fuck, you were right bitch!'.
Whatever it is mateys, I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Curses
I was surfing round the internet and found this fucking hilarious site. Whoever said you can't laugh while you learn.
So yeah, one of the topic is the 9 most devastating insults from around the world.
1: The Spaniards
"Suck butter from my ass" (Chupe mantequilla de mi culo)
3: The Irish
Many classic curses from Ireland come out of Gaelic, which gives them a more folksy, old-timey appeal. Such as, "Go n-ithe an cat thu, is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat" (May the cat eat you, and may the devil eat the cat).
May God give you to search for your children with a Geiger counter" (Da bog da trazio detzoo Gaygerovim broyachem)
No, it doesn't make sense to me either.. But still, if you're in a country that practically shits out uranium, why not curse with nuclear related shit ey?
The Pope fucks you" (Jebo te Papa)
Stick your hand in my ass and jerk off with my shit" (Sa-mi bagi mana-n cur si sa-mi faci laba la cacat)
What the fuck? If you think thats bad enough, be prepared for what's coming up. It's disturbing, unisexually.
Shampoo my dick-hair with your saliva" (Shampona-mi-ai flocii cu saliva)
So yeah, one of the topic is the 9 most devastating insults from around the world.
1: The Spaniards
"Suck butter from my ass" (Chupe mantequilla de mi culo)
"I shit on your dead" (Me cago en tus muertos)
"I shit on God" (Me cago en Dios)
"I shit in/on your whore mother" (Me cago en tu puta madre)
Apparently these guys have an obsession with fecal matter, so let's not go there.
2: The Arabs
"A thousand dicks in your religion" (Elif air ab dinikh)
"May you be struck by a dick" (Air il'e yoshmotak)
"My dick in your conscience" (Airy fe dameerak)
"My dick in your mother's rib cage" (Eyreh be afass seder emmak)
And these guys like dicks?3: The Irish
Many classic curses from Ireland come out of Gaelic, which gives them a more folksy, old-timey appeal. Such as, "Go n-ithe an cat thu, is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat" (May the cat eat you, and may the devil eat the cat).
"Gobshite" (shithead)
"Piss artist" (alcoholic)
"As Thick As Manure And Only Half As Useful."
4: Bulgarians
"Your mother sucks bears in the forest" (Mayka ti duha na mechki v gorata)
"Fuck this tilted field" (Da eba taz kreeva neeva)
"You're as ugly as a salad" (Grozna si kato salata)
So... These fuckers like to curse while utilizing Mother Nature's gifts... Which is what vegetarians do, no?
But my favourite: Nosa ti e kato ruska putka" (Your nose is like a Russian pussy).
Which makes you think: Should I be insulted because I'm a Russian or because my nose is referred to as a pussy? Either way, it doesn't matter cause to me, whoever said that is prepared to knock you the fuck out, I mean, they're fucking Bulgarians for fucks sake.
5: Chinese
Fuck the 18 generations of your ancestors" (Cao ni zu zong shi ba dai)
Wear a green hat." This doesn't sound particularly offensive until you understand that green hats were a component of the male brothel workers uniform during the Tang dynasty. These brothels were so prominent that some historians speculate the Tang dynasty was actually named after the amount of poozle they serviced rather than the emperor's family. References to green hats can challenge the fidelity of someone's wife or suggest someone's father is an anonymous man whore.
"Your mother is a big turtle" (Nide muchin shr ega da wukwei). Again, means nothing without context. But because a turtle doesn't know its father, it's a creative way of calling someone a bastard.
6: Icelanders.
Grandfatherfucker" (Afatottari)
When they eventually run out of random items to call one another, they will revert to grittier tactics. A grand majority of them revolve around who or what their antagonist is prone to fucking.
"Corpsefucker" (naridill)
"Sheepfucker" (rollurioari)
"Unclefucker" (frandseroir)
It's assuring to see other cultures helping us to push the envelope of what "fuck" is truly capable of.
7: Armenians
I'll make sarma (Egg-roll. WTF.) with your penis' skin" (Glirit mortin hed sarma shinem)
Fun Fact: You can gauge how industrialized a nation is by the percentage of their insults that involve barnyard animals.
"Eshoon noor oodel chi vayeler" It's not pretty watching a jackass try to eat a pomegranate (read: clumsy).
"Krisnera zhazh tan vred" Let the rats ejaculate on you.(This is disturbing. Even for me.)
"Kak oudelic shoon" Shit eating dog.
"Eshu Koorak" Son of Donkey.
8: Serbians.
May God give you to search for your children with a Geiger counter" (Da bog da trazio detzoo Gaygerovim broyachem)
No, it doesn't make sense to me either.. But still, if you're in a country that practically shits out uranium, why not curse with nuclear related shit ey?
The Pope fucks you" (Jebo te Papa)
"May your house be live on CNN" (Da bog da ti kuca bila na CNN-U)--this essentially means I hope NATO will bomb your house.
Da bi te majka prepoznala u bureku" (Let your mother recognize you in a meat pie)
Da Bog da ti zena rodila stonogu pa ceo zivot radio za cipele" (May your wife give birth to a centipede so you have to work for shoes all your life)
Thats more like it. Go SERBIANS!
Stick your hand in my ass and jerk off with my shit" (Sa-mi bagi mana-n cur si sa-mi faci laba la cacat)
What the fuck? If you think thats bad enough, be prepared for what's coming up. It's disturbing, unisexually.
Shampoo my dick-hair with your saliva" (Shampona-mi-ai flocii cu saliva)
"Brush your teeth, my dick will be inspecting soon!" (Spala-te pe dinti ca vin cu pula in inspectie)
Mothers are another favorite target in this region. However, rather than indulge the classic "Yo Mamma" insult architecture, they prefer to taint her sanctity in a round-about way. For example, "Usca-mi-as sosetele pe crucea ma`tii" (I dry my socks on your mother's cross) is blasphemous, but really only as a vehicle to get at the mom. You really have to applaud the balls it takes to assault God just to slam someone's mother.
How fucked up is that. And here we have people feeling like there's blood coming outta their ears when the word shit comes up.
We seriously need a lot of catching up to do.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Death.
I don't know about your life but my life has been surrounded with deaths these past few weeks. Not just deaths of the people, it's more than that. A death of a relationship, a death of an organization, a death of a fucking one eyed monkey. As much as I hate to admit it, it gives an effect that is... Right there, vocabulary fails me.
A few days ago my school teacher died. Then I had news that my friend's father passed away. I never knew my schoolteacher in a very close manner, he only substituted a class or two and most of the times I met him is because of unplanned encounters. So why the sudden feeling of gut wrenching depression and confusion? I try to think of it but I fail to comprehend. The best I could come up was with this.
As we move along in life, we are like sponge in a huge bucket of water. We obviously could not absorb all of it but sometimes, meeting a person once is enough leave an impression on you that you fail to forget them. For example once before said schoolteacher retired, I was being a bastard in school, playing truant and doing shit. One day he called me and my friend up to the Chemistry Lab and fuck, we thought we were gonna get some fucked up 'I-am-the-adult-here-so-don't-fuck-around' lecture. But he didn't. He told us this:
"You know, you guys are young, all this things are normal lah. You ponteng once in awhile nevermind, but then don't make it a habit la. If you do make it a habit, see la, you become like me. Can teach only, don't get a lot of money also. Once in a while, everyone needs a break, but then work is work, don't forget that."
The dude was smoking while he said that. In the fucking Chemistry Lab. God bless that man. See, he seriously surprised both of us who were there, we felt like we were speaking to someone who finally understands. And fuck man, he did. Now he's gone.
I feel like the world or at least Malaysia lost a damn good fucking teacher who could actually connect with the students. Shit, that guy should get a fucking Nobel for awesomeness.
See, those words stuck with me. When I heard he died, it was as if that very scene was playing right infront of my eyes. That and the part where he showed us how awesome Concentrated Sulphuric Acid is.
Best part is, I didn't even know my friend's dad.
In his case, when I heard I tried to put myself in his shoes. And I couldn't. I was afraid, I became paranoid, I was fucking hyperventilating. I cannot imagine myself being without a father who had been with me for so long. Shit, I still feel those demonic butterflies ramming into my abdomen.
So I hope that whoever is reading this, say a silent prayer for these people.
In memory of Mr. Francis Khoo.
My condolences to Mohd. Akmal.
A few days ago my school teacher died. Then I had news that my friend's father passed away. I never knew my schoolteacher in a very close manner, he only substituted a class or two and most of the times I met him is because of unplanned encounters. So why the sudden feeling of gut wrenching depression and confusion? I try to think of it but I fail to comprehend. The best I could come up was with this.
As we move along in life, we are like sponge in a huge bucket of water. We obviously could not absorb all of it but sometimes, meeting a person once is enough leave an impression on you that you fail to forget them. For example once before said schoolteacher retired, I was being a bastard in school, playing truant and doing shit. One day he called me and my friend up to the Chemistry Lab and fuck, we thought we were gonna get some fucked up 'I-am-the-adult-here-so-don't-fuck-around' lecture. But he didn't. He told us this:
"You know, you guys are young, all this things are normal lah. You ponteng once in awhile nevermind, but then don't make it a habit la. If you do make it a habit, see la, you become like me. Can teach only, don't get a lot of money also. Once in a while, everyone needs a break, but then work is work, don't forget that."
The dude was smoking while he said that. In the fucking Chemistry Lab. God bless that man. See, he seriously surprised both of us who were there, we felt like we were speaking to someone who finally understands. And fuck man, he did. Now he's gone.
I feel like the world or at least Malaysia lost a damn good fucking teacher who could actually connect with the students. Shit, that guy should get a fucking Nobel for awesomeness.
See, those words stuck with me. When I heard he died, it was as if that very scene was playing right infront of my eyes. That and the part where he showed us how awesome Concentrated Sulphuric Acid is.
Best part is, I didn't even know my friend's dad.
In his case, when I heard I tried to put myself in his shoes. And I couldn't. I was afraid, I became paranoid, I was fucking hyperventilating. I cannot imagine myself being without a father who had been with me for so long. Shit, I still feel those demonic butterflies ramming into my abdomen.
So I hope that whoever is reading this, say a silent prayer for these people.
In memory of Mr. Francis Khoo.
My condolences to Mohd. Akmal.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)