Sleepless Nights 46 - (Fucking) Love M.D.

So, as it is, an apparently enlightened female soul has found it in her conscience to liberate me from my own ignorance by telling me that hey, for some reason unbeknownst to mankind, that I have a rare gift which is the inability to fucking understand the notion of romance. She further based this upon the fact that;

1) I have been single for about three years.
2) I am apparently mean to women.
3) I don't seem to pay much attention to the other sex.

So with the arsenal of three seemingly valid reason, she valiantly handed her verdict to me and she further justified herself with the sentence and I quote "... I know you're going to deny this."

To make it crystal clear, I am mocking this lady because at this moment, I am awfully offended and well actually downright insulted.

Inability to love, you say? There are three things I take pity upon right now; your parents for having brought up such a shallow little cretin, the government and the people of our country for having spent money on you and your education and your intelligence which resides in you because I see not the how you could utilize it.

I'm going to disprove every single one of your claims, and then I am going to further mock your moronic ideology because as much as I know that this won't change a thing about your shrewd mentality, at least I'll have my say. Also, I doubt that this level of English would appeal to you since I am pretty sure that your comprehension doesn't exceed a ten year old. That was me being polite. You might want to have a dictionary by your side.

As preposterous as your first claim is, you are right about a part of it. I'm single yes, not by choice but more of an obligation to the gene pool. Over here, my choices are extended to the likes of you. What's wrong with being yourself, you might ask? Please, let me elaborate in excruciating detail. Unlike most men, I could give physical attraction some slack, I don't give a fuck about your body parts - Which you seem to lack anyway - the only valid thing I seek of is a face which I could bear to look at for half a day, and your personality. Now, since your face is not something which would make me look forward to my day, I would still consider it since there is a probability that your personality might just brighten my dull life. Then I think of it and I realise that all that is just a mere fiction of my imagination.

Apart from having the stature of a prepubescent teen, your mind and ego makes a puddle of water seem like the vast ocean. You're a shallow little fuckling with a perspective narrowed down to your academic performance and your dreams of prince fucking charming. You have a disability in the terms of widening your horizons; you see a road and you refuse to follow it because amidst all that confident persona you pretend you are, there lies a core of cowardice which has you so tangled up in its roots and branches that you've felt comfortable living in that hell hole. You're lazy and negative, your ideal future is to stay at home and reproduce while waiting for a husband to come home and treat you like a lower mammal. So with all of this said, do you honestly think that I would like to waste my time and effort to offer someone like you, my love? Of all the better potential out there, do you think that I'd settle for an inferior little you?

Now, onwards we trudge to challenge (Which trust me, is too strong of a word for your little puny statement) which is the fact that I am mean to women. I refute your claim by saying that I am mean to most people, regardless of sex. Why? Hmmm, I can't really put my finger on it but I believe it has something to do with, I don't know, maybe the fact that most of you have the intellect of a cretin? How am I supposed to treat you as a functioning adult when your mind is underdeveloped, your maturity at the level of a zygote and your actions are on par to that of a domestic animal?

I have people whom I treat as my equal because these are the people to whom I could have an argument with, whom I can raise my voice to and refute any of their claims but after all that, we could go grab a fucking coffee and laugh at people like you. And they do the same to me because being offended doesn't exist in our vocabulary, we have an unspoken rule that all of our debates are based on the fact that we disagree and hence, we aim to have total honesty. Your definition of 'mean' is sadly a fucked up one, because as far as I'm concerned, I try to be honest in most of my dealings but you, O my fucker, can't seem to accept this truth and hence you label it under a term which you feel is fair to you. The people whom I treat as equal do not begrudge me when I tell them that maybe the dress that they're wearing is a tad bit too funky for the day, they begrudge me when I lie to their face and tell them they look splendid. They accept my opinions with an open mind and if they find the need to disagree, they speak up. So if telling me that I'm mean to women, then fuck you, it is fucking obvious that this 'women' that you speak of only pertain to little shallow you, fucking selfish bitchlet.

Now, let us move on to the last of your so called 'valid' point which is the fact that I don't pay much attention to the other sex. I'm going to go out of my way here and say that this is a repetition of the first point, but then again, I guess that reflects your ability for critical thinking. Here I actually thought that someone of your academic calibre could at the very least give a sound argument. Who am I fucking kidding, really.

Since you have a knack for repetition, I'll do the same but because I refuse to stoop down to your level, I'll find a different set of points to use and you know why? Because unlike you, it does not tax my brain to have to think of all these, it comes naturally and in all truth, I feel a wee bit sad for your trapped intelligence. It deserves to be placed in a more liberated physic. A homeless person would do. So let me get to the point. Why I don't pay much attention to the other sex round here. That's pretty simple actually, as I have outlined before, the potential here is not only pathetic, it's almost non-existent. To be paying attention to the likes of you would taint my lineage, it would be a direct insult to my forefathers. In simpler terms, if I ever have my dick touch any part of you, it would result in an immediate severance of everything I hold dear to me.

The truth is that some of you devotchkas here have a pretty sweet face with a nice personality to go with it. What's stopping me then? The fact is that every single time I pass by you fuckers give me a look as if I'm a fucking rapist. A religious obligation I hear you say? I call bullshit, to insult a person would be such a nice thing God tells you to do. I honestly don't give a fuck if you would want to look to the ground - I'd do so too, really, those manholes are a bitch to skip over - but when you look away as if I'm a goddamn leper, it gets personal.

A manhole; in case you didn't understand.

Here's the deal. I'm not pissed off at the fact that you blatantly took a hit at something you have no inkling over. I'm not pissed off over the fact that you can't even give a good argument. What I am pissed off, is that it was uncalled for. Also, your understanding of love is shallow and perverted.

You think that love is about the bond shared between two humans, a bond which they will hold on to until they get married, have children and then fucking die. My definition is that love is an abstract object that could latch on to anything - Anything - and because of this, it could bring forth magic and enlightenment. It can cause a person to be happy for the rest of his life, at the same time it could cause the same person to go insane. It could manifest itself in the form of music and it will lead to masterpieces, it could be present in between a painter and his/her subject. It could lead to creation, and it could cause imminent destruction. It's everywhere. The same love could evolve into hatred.

So, here, let me ask you a pretty simple question. With so much things to love, why, why in the name of everything fucking holy and unholy; would I choose to love you? You, a weak coward with a shallow mind. You with a touch that spells death to intellect and joy. You. Why the fuck, would I ever do that.

The Colours of Our Flag.

I rarely write about politics. It's because I'm not interested in it and at the same time, I don't have the adequate knowledge. This however, is an exception because this is my country in peril and I will not let it pass without saying a word.

As most of you know, there's the Bersih 2.0 rally going on. So far there's the whole separation of the rakyat where some support Bersih while the others are against it.

Where do I stand? Right now, I can honestly say that I'm against both, the participants of Bersih and UMNO supremacists. I admit that I am in support of the idealism of Bersih. Who wouldn't be, really? A movement to remove corruption from the very heart of the nation, that would be such an idealistic vision. I want that, everyone wants that. What I do not want, is blood to be spilled over it.

I don't agree with the fact that there has to be a rally over this. Sure, I get the point that you want your voices heard loud and clear. I get the fact that the government aren't the most receptive things around. I get that you've had enough of whatever it is that you find flawed. However, I do not agree that a mass protest would be the best way to resolve this. What happened to forming a committee and sending representatives with the memorandum? I know that some are going to say that it is not going to work but I'm sorry for being condescending, you have not tried have you? If you had, and you failed, it would be to your advantage; you have a stronger point to convince the people with. The government are not run by idiots, they've been in power for 50 years not only because they're tyrants. It's also because they know how to win people over.

I wonder, however, at the aim of the rally. It's plain and simple, of course. To hand over a memorandum to the King, and strongly hope that it all goes well. At this point I must stop myself and inquire about the logic of getting the King involved. Why? What good does it make? Am I the only one who realises that the King is no more than a symbol in our country and that he holds no power whatsoever in the comings and goings of the fucked up administration? What could he possibly do with these demands? He could read it of course, support it, carve it into marble and hang it outside the palace but that's it. Why did Bersih not go to someone with a more direct involvement in the administration, say the Prime Minister himself? Folly? The fact that you have not tried is already a testament to your unwillingness to explore other option, instead you want to go through with the one which would generate as much discontent as possible.

The current government is shit, I agree. Spending the Rakyat's money as if it were milk poured into a huge bowl of cereal, I understand the need to be angry. I am angry. I am pissed the fuck off when I heard that a facebook page needs to be maintained at a cost of about one million Ringgit. I'm pissed the fuck off when I heard a fucking ring costs 73 million Ringgit. I'm pissed the fuck off when I heard that a proposed MRT project would cost 50 fucking billion Ringgit when the Trans Siberian link only costs 3 billion (Citation needed). Look, I myself am not sure about the facts but listening about this scares the shit out of me. However, and this is important, it does not stand to reason for any to bypass all the ethical and moral barriers just because of all this fuckupperies the present government. People are angry, they fear for the future, but there has always been a guideline to overcome these problems.

I heard (and am not entirely sure of this) that Bersih aims to follow the footsteps of the Egyptian revolution. I cannot hold back but ask this: Are you motherfucking insane? The Egyptians won, yes, but at a cost so high that we won't be able to pay. Not only were there countless casualties, their economy is fucked up beyond relief. There's a price for hard fought peace, and often, it is not one that we are prepared to pay.

Now there's this whole anti-Bersih thing. Not only do I find this extremely offensive, it's an insult to every single Malaysian out there. What happened to being tolerant and patient? What happened to keeping calm and analysing the whole situation? Or am I the one who is being delusional in believing that my fellow countrymen could do that? Fuck you Perkasa. Fuck you for being so fucking fragile and scared of change.

People are at the moment, delirious. There's a voice in everybody's head asking what is to happen to the country if this is what the government is like. I myself have been asking the question countless of times and I'm in Egypt for fuck's sakes. If I were in Malaysia, I'd probably start constructing a goddamn killing machine and go on a rampage. That's why I looked at the way Barisan National handled the rally as an embarrassment. They allowed themselves as the ruling party to be provoked, they allowed their ego to top their rationality and sadly, that brought much chaos. They did not think about the consequences of their actions but instead, they held dear the phrase 'To live during the moment.'.

They should have allowed the rally to go on. That's what I honestly think the best way is. If they had, the memorandum would be sent to the King (I'm still in doubt over the effectiveness of this.) everyone would have gone home and that's it. They would have prevented the loss of resources by dispatching the FRU, they would have stopped unnecessary violence and most important of all, is that they could at least have been praised by the media. Now, there's thousands of videos and what not condemning my fucking country and making the lot of us look as if we're a goddamn bunch of unruly barbarians.

What's worse is the by-product of the rally. Hatred goes without saying, racism, the seeds of a major catastrophe being sown into the minds of our generation; the generation that is supposed to take over the reins of leadership. I have personally seen on facebook how photos have been spread by obvious racists with condescending remarks and people react to it by showing how shallow they really are. They allowed themselves to ignore the brain they have and be swayed by what they see without factual evidence. So I ask, when will this stop? Do we need another 13th of May to finally realised what fuck ups we are? I hope not.

It's funny. Yellow and Red (and Blue, if you consider the police force) going at each others' throat when nobody stopped to see that all these are the colours of our flag. Our Jalur Gemilang. It's been far too long for one without the proper knowledge to talk, so I'll stop. Just my two fucking cents.

Mania; Part One.

Nowadays…

I feel dead inside,

Like a machine, I go about doing my daily chores and errands,

Numb; the cells dead and fossilized,

The blood in my veins stand still and coagulate,

My heart; it’s just a dry well.

Nowadays…

I feel old,

The demons of past sins claw and they gnaw at my brittle bones,

My hands tremble and they shake,

Nights are never peaceful but then again, so are the days.

Nowadays…

I look in the mirror

and all I see is a void, a deep black abyss,

Churning and turbulent, it has its teeth sunk so deep into my soul

That all I can feel in between the pangs of despair and numbness,

Is a deep stabbing pain.

Nowadays…

I lie down on a bed

With seven different women of seven different colours from seven different continents,

And all of them, they do seven different things which gives me the illusion of heaven,

Yet all I can feel, all this fragile soul can feel…

Cold.

Nowadays…

I look at the sky

And all I see are white clouds amongst the light blue sky,

Gone are the scene of angels and demons at war,

Gone are the different worlds which I used to play in when I was a kid.

All that is left is the monotonous white clouds amongst the endless blue.

Nowadays…

I try to talk,

But the only sound I have left is silent sobs,

I try to sing a happy song,

But all I can come up with is a lament to this crumbling decrepit world.

Nowadays…

I wake up in the morning,

Only to find my body rigid and paralyzed,

I see my soul hovering over me weeping,

It refuses to return into this prison,

This ugly feeble prison.

Nowadays…

I welcome the descend of chaos,

To wake up knowing that many have not the pleasure of doing so,

Going out and examining the splatter of blood against an unfortunate wall,

Watching the faces of wailing women as the martyrs are paraded,

I feel as if God is by my side.

Nowadays…

I see naught but an endless road,

One that I tread on, one that I’ve known since birth,

It goes on, across the horizon, over the rainbow and under the ocean,

I strain my eyes, I squint and I blink but all I see at the end,

Is myself, staring back, dead eyed.

Nowadays…

I fear everything,

People passing by, a balloon floating pass,

They conspire and they plot,

Cold sweat line my brows and my heart races,

The Sun, its malice pierces through.

Nowadays…

I am constantly pinned down,

The burden of being utterly useless,

Crunches down on my bones,

It bludgeons me, runs me down, I cry!

Bloodied and broken, I lie crumpled.

Nowadays…

I watch as pieces of myself,

Crumble and dissolve and disintegrate,

A million shattered pieces forming a trail of despair behind me,

I hug myself, fear grips and I shudder,

It does not help.

Nowadays…

Nowadays I fall,

And the ground, oblivion,

She welcomes me.

Listen.

Listen.

Do you hear it?

The tension of my body’s strings increasing,

As your voice, it tunes them,

Your mind composing the song

And your fingers running through,

From me and from me alone,

You could bring forth music.

Do you hear the deep bass beats,

Of my heart as it thumps and bumps along,

The tempo increasing as you skip among the lillies,

Moonbeams shine upon you and only you,

Drumroll, cymbals clash;

You hold my hand.

Listen to the trumpets and the sax,

Going on and on and on,

Like a bird in flight swooping and sweeping,

My breath erratic, struggling,

The sweet scent of jasmine in your hair,

Out comes the fluid tune which the angels envy,

Only you, love, only you could bring it forth.

Have you heard the string quartet,

Resonating from my voice as I look to you confused,

My mind catatonic, scrambled, insanity descends,

The violins and the cellos playing ever so furiously,

Then softly, calm,

As you hold me tight and tell me that it’s okay.

I wonder if you heard,

The scaling and the bends and the licks,

Of an electric guitar with its amp on full blast for all the world to hear,

Simply as you smile and tell me that you’re mine,

Note after note, fret after fret,

Like a twenty minute solo,

Without even the lightest glitch.

Do you hear, love, do you hear?

The piano weeping,

Its pain raw and painful,

Suppurating, malignant and bleeding,

On and on it goes, grieving,

And it’s all because you’re not there,

Listen, my charm, listen well,

Listen to this instrument of yours,

Only by your hands could my noise be composed,

Arranged and sown together to form something so utterly soothing,

Listen well, my maestro,

Listen.

Sleepless Nights 45 - Because Real Women Never Seem to be Good Enough.

Being the drama (Queen, King, Prince) that I am, people seem to misunderstand me when I say that I can't be involved in a relationship. Sure, I talk about how fucking hot some girls / women are, but hey, I solemnly believe that being associated just for the sex is not, in fact a legitimate relationship. Why should it be, really, why complicate things.

The truth is, I have a wide range of things I want in a woman and unfortunately, these things often contradict each other. I'd like a lady who's an evil mastermind but at the same time, I'd want the essence of innocence. I want a lady who's artistic, but at the same time, I want her to be a total fucking geek. In short, I'm greedy as hell and I want everything rolled into one package. Like a massive sushi. With boobs. Or you know, if technology allows it, I'll clone a female copy of myself and marry her. Yeah.

Strange. Sushi with boobs actually have results...

So, how do I combat this whole conundrum? I turn to fiction. Fiction allows so many things to come to fruition. I can get my sushi boob and at the same time two time on my female clone because fuck it, I deem that they live in two separate planes of existence and only I can move freely between them. Fiction, is the answer to my childhood, fiction is my reality. Fuck all the relationship problems you'd get, in my world, there is none. Sure, I hear murmurs of 'Freak' or 'Loser' or 'Retard' but the beauty of it is that I don't care. The fact of the matter is that I can get a real lady to entertain me but what's the fun in that? This lady is going to eventually want presents and fuck, she'd need attention. I can't give that, I pay attention only to myself. So, the following are the ladies that had helped me get pass being a needy little hormonal fuck. God bless their immortal souls.

And yeah, they don't age either.

1. Daphne Anne Blake

I admit, this is kind of weird. But the past is the past, and when I was a kid, I watched a fuckload of Scooby Doo, after an hour of Discovery Channel. It was a requirement set upon by my mother but enough on that. Daphne, through my wee eyes, was simply fuck awesome. I mean seriously, she was fuck smart, looked awesome, rides a fucking VW, and goes around ghost hunting. What more would you want. I hated that blonde fucktard in the white shirt, even as a kid, I'd understood that he was the epitome of douchebagerry. And the other girl? Fuck that, the other girl didn't even have a name... Did she?

2. Final Fantasy VII Girls.

In all their pixelated glory!

I shit you not, this was like a fucking obsession. Is.

I didn't really give a fuck about Aries though, she's too nice and well, she kind of died halfway. But Tifa and Yuffie though, those were quite special indeed. I mean really, both of them could probably beat me up and leave me a crumpled husk by the roadside. Which is hot, I think.

Yuffie's a ninja. Those three words are pretty much the main components of obsession, you put a barely legal girl in a ninja outfit and send her out into the wild. All that's ever going to come out of that is rule 34. And Tifa's anatomically disproportionate body, sigh.

3. Morrigan Aensland.

I pretty much remember the first time laying my eyes on her. She was a playable character in the very first Marvel vs. Capcom which was on the PS1 and holy frak did I ravage her. Uh. On the console I mean, beating the Hulk to a bloody fucking pulp. There's also this fan comic of most of the Darkstalkers characters which I got my hands on (In a secretive manner I believe, the content of said comic could cause the multiverse to implode upon itself and create a new big bang.)

4. Mandy from the Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy; previously part of Grim & Evil.

We used to have real fucking good cartoons back then, and jesus fuck, I really do wonder where the fuck those days have gone. Grim & Evil used to fuel my childhood with the consolation that the thoughts I was having was pretty normal. Now all you have is motherfucking Cow and Chicken. Humanity is indeed doomed.

Anyway, seriously, you could throw in any badass female persona into the mix, and none of them would even come close to the ultimate awesomeness that is Mandy. I mean really, she's technically an infant wears a weird little infant dress and she could manage to whoop everybody's ass to bits. Including the fucking Grim Reaper. If that's not a testament to her capabilities then i don't know what else is.

She's a constant reminder that those days were ultimately more awesome. We had good music, good cartoons, good familial values and appreciation. We even fought with more honour. I honestly can't figure out what happened to the years after I was born, it's like 1991 was the last year that awesomeness survived. Now, you have Bieber, then Black, and then a girl who looks like Bieber and is feeding off his fame. Humanity failed, and Mandy is constantly there with a baseball bat to remind us of it.

5. Android 18 from Dragonball.

I'm pretty sure this list is pretty fucking weird but fuck it.

6. Lúthien Tinúviel.

Your mind, body and soul.

I've said this once, and I'll say it again and again till your ears develop vocal cords to drown my voice. The Lay of Leithian or the Tale of Beren and Lúthien is undeniably the awesomest love story ever. Why? Because she's fucking in it.

The beauty of written words is that your imagination will be free of any pesky weights which society forces upon and you can just soar. For example if I say big without any reference to an object, everybody will have a different idea of what big is. It's the same thing with beauty. Tolkien described milady to his utmost capabilities but somehow, it doesn't really work. My Lúthien will be unique to myself that through my eyes, none could compare. Which is why she's on my list, she can be anything, she can take almost any physical mortal form, and she can be anything.

If that didn't make sense, I actually understand. I don't understand half of what I'm saying either right now. Go away sleep, I need to study.

7. Enma Ai from Jigoku Shoujo / Hell Girl.

Now we come to the ones who pretty much made me realise that the world is not a place that promises happiness. First off, we have the one and only Enma. Okay, first off, I have to clarify that though she may be barely legal, technically she's about 2000 year old. If anything, I have an obsession with a cougar. A very fucking hot cougar.

She has everything doesn't she? Long hair, bangs, dead eyes (Which are motherfucking red. Suck on that normal humans.) and the prized 'I don't give a fuck attitude'. Also, she's an emissary of hell itself so I believe that it should add about a gazillion points to her value? Seriously, a valid chance to be with her for eternity... I'll do almost anything. From being a slave to destroying earth.

Fuck man, just look at her.

8. Nishino Tsukasa from Ichigo 100%.

I'm pretty sure that most of you don't know who/what she is or what Ichigo 100% is. She's fictional, it's a manga and guuuhhhh thou shalt go retard whilst reading it.

9. Death from Neil Gaiman's Sandman.

Jesus fuck, do I even have to say any more? She's Death, and unlike the oh so fucking common character portrayal (Hats off to Neil Gaiman for pulling this off) she's... Nice. And warm. It's like what I see Death as, not some twisted creature, skeletal or whatever.

Also, as the picture above shows; hot much? Always in black leather, that's enough for me, oh yes.


10. Yuuko Ichihara

Come to think of it, I naturally suck when it comes to traditionalist. I like tradition, I like having something that you have to protect and to teach for it to remain alive. Hence, it's only obvious that I'd be attached to such an awesome character. I mean in a whole, the manga itself is quite painful to read with the plot holes and the fucked up ending but she pretty much saved it. The character, the addition of eccentricity... But mostly it's the whole traditionalist thing, fuck, where have all the ladies with great appreciation of the old days gone to? I mean really, where?

Also, long hair and bangs, ah fuck.

11. Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel or as awesomely known as: Harley Quinn.

I'm not gonna lie to you. She's number 1.

Ever since I was a kid, I've had a crippling fear of clowns and mimes and whatever it is that paints a smile on it's face. Then I remembered watching the Batman animated series, and when the Joker came about with his fangirl, Harley, it fucking blew my mind. They don't hide the fact that they're evil little fuckers. Like, painted face is a yes, laughter all the more but no whining or pretending and shit. Just plain unadulterated violence.

So I guess I was naturally made to fall for Harley. Like, fuck, what kind of irony is it to be so obsessed with one's mortal fear. Shit, whoever made the sketch above is fucking godlike, that's one hot Harley. I remembered watching the Return of the Joker, and there's the part when Harley falls off the cliff and fuck, the depression that came about... That sucked.

So yeah, fuck all the hot ladies of the fucking world, gimme a Harley Quinn, fictional or not, and I can go celibate. Who needs em, eh?

Sleepless Nights 44 - Pain.

No, for once I'm not going to bore you with the metaphysical realm. Instead, I'll focus on the physical stuff and what more awesome way to do so then by bringing forth the gift of pain.

1) Taste Buds.

So, unless you're the few mutated infants who could read by the time your brain have not even developed, there's probably a hundred percent chance that you've had the pleasure to experience ulcers in your mouth. If you are, in fact, the mutated infant, I strongly suggest that you leave and never come back to this hallowed grounds. I hate you.

Anyway, with the freak of nature out of the way, let's start. Ulcers aren't actually painful per say, I believe that at most, they're just a minor irritation, an inconvenience, maybe an object subject to much hatred when you're trying to manoeuvre your tongue away from another hot, wet muscle invading your buccal mucosa. I'm just saying. I'd be very much irate, to be honest.

Pain however, makes it's graceful entrance by waltzing in when one of two things happen: Either the ulcer comes in contact with salt, which I'd give a 3 on a scale of 1 - 10 on the pain rating or when you foolishly try to tear the ulcer out with your fingernails. On a scale of 1 - 10, I'll give it a zero, actually because no scale could even come close to measuring the amount of pain I felt.

No, I don't know why I did it. It seemed quite logical at the time. So, first off, you receive the sting when your obviously grimy fingers come in contact with aforementioned ulcer. It does not matter though, it's only a 3 and you've gone through far worse, haven't you. Then you shape your thumb and index fingers to the likes of a forceps, and you bring the two nails together in an unsuccessful attempt to sever the ulcer from your tongue. The result?

A cosmic orgasm is pretty much the norm.

The pain will literally jump out of your conscience and beat you up till your eyeballs explode, then beat you up some more just for the fucks of it. But, what's this? The taste bud which you have stupidly tried to tear off is still there and what caused the pain is direct damage to the underlying nerve fibres? How amazing!

Tears will begin to well up in your eyes, blasphemy begins to form in your brain but the pain is still there. So again, you must go ahead and claw at the exposed nerve in hopes that when it does get severed, the pain will be gone... Well lucky you, the pain does leave, but not before it makes your whole body shudder with extreme convulsions and make your tongue feel as if it had been cut off.

2) Genito-urinary system.

This includes pubes. Of course it would, fool. Also, since I am of the male subspecies of the human race, I have to make this entry a masculine one.

There comes at times, when pubes act like a total motherfucker and starts to fuck around. What could go wrong, you might ask. Sigh, you foolish little prepubescent moron... This brings about much tears when it tag teams with the fabric of clothing (Read: Boxers / Jeans). Imagine rushing to the loo with a full bladder and innocent little you start to feverishly tear off clothing like there is no tomorrow then suddenly... As you begin to pull the last item off (Read: Boxers), you feel a slight tug. In your maddened state of mind, you desperately try to consciously stop your hands from doing anything further but psh, what the fuck does your hands care? Off comes your boxers and also two strands of pubic hair. Also, your sanity.

This might put it in perspective.

Pubes... The bane of creation... Pain rating: 7/10 since there's fast relief and no permanent scarring. Physically that is...

Enough on that. Let's move on to more delicate matters shall we.

I remember once upon a time, a time when the world was still an infant and dinosaurs roamed free, I made the horrid mistake to sleep in jeans and nothing else. I have to emphasise on the nothing else, really, I mean seriously, nothing else. Get it yet? So I arose the next morning filled with the wonder of what the day might bring when an unpleasant tugging feeling lingered down there. O my brothers, the horror upon which I discovered that my zipper had betrayed me in the utmost contemptuous way was grievous to say the very least. It was stuck. I was stuck. In my own jeans. I tried everything, even fucking toothpicks, yes, toothpicks. To no avail, utterly defeated, I realised there there was only one more option, one which I could not believe had the courage to do. It's spoken in hushed voices in shady pubs and dark alleys.... It's called 'The RIP'.

I... I weep...

The RIP means what it means. So I bit a chunk of wood, braced myself, got a hold on the treacherous zipper and with a silent prayer, pulled it down as hard as I could. The chunk of wood splintered, my will crumbled and the zipper... The zipper cackled maniacally...

Pain rating: 4/10 since it left only a relatively small memorabilia and the anticipation pretty much exacerbated the whole ordeal.

3) Falling.

No, it's not the plain ol' fall. This category pretty much includes those falls which you thought that you had seriously damaged some internal organ or some shit because the pain pretty much kicks you so hard in the nuts that they rocket into your eyes. You do remember that your eyes have exploded aye?

The greatest pain when it comes to falling is when your bone comes into contact with concrete. No, not the usual bones, like the arms or legs, these are the bones which are not fucking meant to ever come in contact with anything at all, it's just meant to stay all cuddled up in between layers of fat and muscle. Like the fucking hip bone, or more fucking specifically, the ischial tuberosity.

I know you didn't fucking study it. Stop whining already.

See, there's a reason for an ass, and this here is the exact reason why it's created. There are times when this fails, and when coupled with the fact that some of us are skinny as fuck, it doesn't help... Cushion the blow.

Pain Rating: 8/10 because fuck, even if it lasts for a while, it hurts like a bitch.

4) Being seared.

One thing about being seared is that my God it feels so freakishly good. Uh. Nevermind.

I'm pretty sure that being consumed by molten metal would hurt a fuckload but no, for some reason, I have yet to taste that, so I will instead emphasise on another milder but more common variation. Plastic.

I'm not particularly sure, but Google gave me this, so yeah, it must be relevant.

See, molten plastic is one of the few remaining magical items in our decrepit world today. It withholds massive amounts of power in it's microscopic bonds and when heated, it will lead to the release of said energy onto the surface it has been projected upon. Let's say that said surface is the skin. Upon melting and coming in contact with it, the molten plastic realises it's form has changed and it needs to revert back or else the multiverse will be caught in the tear of the space-time continuum and implode upon itself. However by doing so, it will have to release it's own energy source as stated above and while this might not amuse you, do note that this is happening on your skin. The result:

This is largely the reason why there are less magical items nowadays... We humans are so fucking fragile that they decided to leave our world into the magical kingdom of Zura-Zura.

Pain rating: Depends. Normally, it would be a 6.5/10 but in certain cases like below...



It tends to be a zero. Personal preference aye?

5) Smoking mishaps.

This includes anything which concerns the voluntary entry of smoke into the lungs. I mean everything, cigarettes, joints, shishas, pipes, embers, shit like that.

First off, there's the ol' accidental fuckuppery with the exit of the smoke, it might be due to a laugh, a shout, or just plain fucken talking but it all leads to the same thing.

That... but stuck in your throat.

See, smokers come under great criticism over the course of time, but none know of the sacrifice they undergo to uphold the art of taming smoke. Feverishly they continue without a step of hesitation, and if the above happens, they weep because the smoke has prevailed and it hurts like a bitch. Pain rating: 4/10, might increase overtime.

Accidental searing of self: 6/10 and increases as more areas are involved. Like setting fire to your own hair. Yeah, that sucks.

6) Acne...

In places that shouldn't have fucking acne.

Like in the nose. Have you had a fucking pimple in your nose? It's hell, and for some reason, it doesn't heal as fast as a normal pimple would. Instead it takes weeks to settle down and fucking fuck off. Some of you might see the perks in this but as myself, this is another bloody bane of existence. Imagine rubbing your nose, then realise that the bastardly pimple is being compressed together with your nose. Imagine digging the ol' goldmine but then scraping the surface of the fucking pimple instead.

I don't even...

6) Stubbing a toe, and the complications.

Walls have a nasty habit of having corners and these corners in turn, have a nasty habit of getting in your way. Well, to be exact you toe's way but the corner doesn't give a flying fuck does it?

Pain rating here would probably be a 7/10 I believe but what fucks the whole thing up is when you get caught up in the massive shitstorm following the stubbed toe. Most common fuckuppery is a cracked toe nail or uh... How do I explain this in words...

THIS

The horrid feeling when you realise that you no longer have a toe is one thing, then the pain associated with said horrid feeling skyrockets the pain level to a fucking eleven. Then you have the occassional asshole who laughs at your permanent disfigurement takes it to a whole new level.

7) Ligament/ joint/ nerve pain.

This, I believe trumps it all because if it happens in your fucking knee, or lower limb, you're fucked for life. It's like having a poisoned dart stuck in between your joints and you dread the time when the pain comes... It lurks in the deepest pits of your twisted conscience and it waits, it waits till you let your guard down and it pounces upon feeble little you. You're incapable of walking, and it feels like you calf has turned into acid and it eats it's way into the remainder of your leg...

Pain rating: Fuck/Fuck.

How Your Mind Fucks Around With You.

Now that I can finally access my fucking Blogger account and serenade thee with awesome profanities, I shall begin.

So, this week has been in total quite low-profile, since all the fucking assignments are done with. All there is left is Biochem which has been ramming it up me arse dry and well... Let's leave it at that.

Also, I time travelled.

Through time and space, onwards!

Allow me to explain. I found myself with a sudden urge to study Biochem a few days ago, which was on a Wednesday. It was quite appropriate see, there was sixty pages worth to cram into my brain and exactly three days to do so. Hence I began studying and again, strangely, I felt... What's the term. The feeling you get when something feels right and it all goes your way and the world actually makes sense for once... Counter-Murphy? I don't know. But I felt that.

So I went on with my life, finishing 25 pages of pure mashed up bullfuckerry and I went to bed. The next day, I actually finished Biochemistry, fucking Biochemistry, and it was good because I no have Friday to revise the whole thing. So with harps playing in me heart, I went down to the droogies' house and well, chilled.

And we drank... Milk.

So as per usual, we talked, insulted (Your Mom) and uh well whatever it is that we did until there came a point in the conversation about classes.

Droogie 1: Nah, I'm free tomorrow, hahaha, no classes for me.
Droogie 2: Crap I've got *Insert a medically related subject here*... Fuck this shit.
Yours truly: What the fuck are you fuckers talking about? Tomorrow's Friday.
1 & 2: What the fuck are YOU talking about? Tomorrow's fucking Thursday.
Yours truly: What? *More profanities* Tomorrow's fucking Friday!

This went on for quite awhile until I had to humbly accept that I have, in fact time travelled and went through the week a day in advance. That meant I had a full 24 hours to do more things. Seriously, I can't be the one who thinks that it's mind-fuckingly awesome?

I have a full two days now to revise Biochem. I can relax and bite the imaginary tits off the imaginary girl I just made up for this context because fuck, I have returned to the present!

Says it all.

I agree though that your feeble minds could only find fault with my logic, after all, it's easy for one such as me to say all this stuff since it happens quite often. I understand that your understanding of the world is quite limited, you're like the later Númenorean Kings, angry and frustrated at what you do not understand to the point where you'd rebel against those who do. Let me try and enlighten you.

1) Seriously, mate, it's me. These things tend to happen.
2) I'm not sure about you but... Forgetting an entire day is quite the feat... It's almost impossible.
3) I studied Biochem with vigour. It's a miracle.
4) Again mate, it's me we're talking about here.

If you don't want to believe than suit thine ignorant self, for I, Tar-Zufarion,  understands the limitations of the mortal mind. What I would like to point out is this.

How many times have each of us prayed that we had more time? We, as humans, never seem to be content with what we have and that includes the time allocated for each of us. We need more time to leave a legacy, to educate our children, to continue our work with renewed vigour, to be ourselves. We always seem to lament on the fact that time is limited, there's too much shit to be done and I agree, wholeheartedly.

I am elated because I tasted what it feels like to actually have more time without consciously knowing it. I am elated because today I woke up and I realised that fuck, I can afford to sit back and just stare into space without having assignments raping my ear. It felt... Good.


You see what I did there? I educated you, motherfucker.