The Portentous Progress.

I moved.

2011-05-26T19:32:00.002+08:00

veuxschenk.posterous.com :D

HELLO.

2011-05-12T22:48:00.000+08:00

i have been experimenting with various blogging platforms lately. don't like wordpress. don't like typepad. trying posterous and well...livejournal seemed dreary. actually wordpress was fairly pleasant but i didn't know how to change the font or even the SIZE of the font. and since i refuse to admit the fact that i am unsavvy with blog platforms, i shall adamantly call it non user-friendly. posterous seems nice. it has a attractive ring to it like you know, POSTEROUS like THAT'S PREPOSTEROUS. you don't go like 'hey i am blogging at live - *YAWNNNNNNNS*' or 'hey check out my blogge- *DUDE WE HAVE A LOOKER*' but when you enunciate P-O-S-T-E-R-O-U-S in a boisterous manner, it's like WHOA, W-WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY? okay i was just being unnecessarily dramatic.

i wanna know more of the obama administration's future fiscal policy. don't you? see if it stands up to paul ryan's?

Emilie Autumn.

2011-05-09T08:07:00.000+08:00

I've known her songs for quite some years now but I never really did read her biography before. She does have quite a number of intriguing attributes.

Now if only I can get my hands on her autobiography novel, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls.

Der Selbstmörder.

2011-05-09T00:03:00.000+08:00

we have been inoculated with the idea that life is an ineffable sanctity all our lives. but is it really?

Zuhören

2011-05-07T13:23:00.000+08:00

I can think of so many uses for this song.

hmm.

Chasing.

2011-05-07T02:09:00.000+08:00

In always trying to be someone else, a lodestar for example [ a number of people actually ], I think I am beginning to lose myself in the process.

Zuerst werde ich das nicht mehr machen. Ich möchte ich sein, nicht jemand anders. Aber schau mal, ich bin Mensch. Natürlich will ich jemand anders dann und wann sein, weil ich denken würde, das er oder sie viel besser als ich ist. Warum muss das passiert?

Time.

2011-05-06T19:31:00.000+08:00

Every time I pick up the Time magazine, I would flip straight to my favourite section, "In the Arena" which is, well, consummately written by my favourite writer [ in the Time magazine ], Joe Klein. True, he is extremely left-biased but readers should know where their personal allegiances lie. Plus, I feel that one who writes without a clear stance appears at best monotonous. There is just that touch of complexity to each article and-..I can go on and on up till the point of adulation but you wouldn't believe me till you read it yourself. So why don't you?

Bonne lecture!

Whoa-wai-what?

2011-05-06T00:30:00.000+08:00

Tell me this isn't hot.

The Little Match Girl.

2011-05-06T00:04:00.000+08:00

The Little Match Girl

The Little Match Girl" is a story by Hans Christian Andersen. The story is famous not only because of its poignant tragedy, but also because of its beauty. Our imagination (and literature) can give us comfort, solace, and reprieve from so many of life's hardships. But, literature can also act as a reminder of personal responsibility. In that sense, this short story reminds me of Hard Times, the short novel by Charles Dickens which instigated change in the age of Industrialization (Victorian England). Or, perhaps we could compare this story to The Little Princess, the 1904 novel by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Does this story make you re-evaluate your life, those things you cherish most?

The Little Match Girl

It was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling fast. In the cold and darkness, a poor little girl with bare head and naked feet, roamed thru the streets. It is true she had on a pair of slippers when she left home, but they were not of much use. They were very large, so large, indeed, for they had belonged to her Mother and the poor little girl had lost them in running across the street to avoid two carriages that were rolling at a terrible rate.

One of the slippers she could not find, and a boy seized the other and ran away with it saying he could use it as a cradle when he had children of his own. So the little girl went on with her little naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried a number of matches, and had a bundle of them in her hands. No one had bought anything of her the whole day, nor had anyone given her even a penny. Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along, looking like the picture of misery. The snowflakes fell on her fair hair, which hung in curls on her shoulders, but she regarded them not.

Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savory smell of roast goose, for it was New-year's eve yes, she remembered that. In a corner, between two houses one of which projected beyond the other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her little feet under her, but could not keep off the cold. And she dared not go home, for she had sold no matches.

Her father would certainly beat her; besides, it was almost as cold at home as here, for they had only the roof to cover them. Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a burning match might be some good, if she could draw it from the bundle and strike it against the wall, just to warm her fingers. She drew one out- "scratch!" how it sputtered as it burnt. It gave a warm, bright light, like a little candle, as she held her hand over it. It was really a wonderful light. It seemed as though she was sitting by a large iron stove. How the fire burned! And seemed so beautifully warm that the child stretched out her feet as if to warm them, when, lo! the flame of the match went out!

The stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the half-burnt match in her hand.

She rubbed another match on the wall. It burst into a flame, and where its light fell upon the wall it became as transparent as a veil, and she could see into the room. The table was covered with a snowy white table cloth on which stood a splendid dinner service and a steaming roast goose stuffed with apples and dried plums. And what was still more wonderful, the goose jumped down from the dish and waddled across the floor, with a knife and fork in it's to the little girl. Then the match went out, and there remained nothing but the thick, damp, cold wall before her.

She lighted another match, and then she found herself sitting under a beautiful Christmas tree. It was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one she had seen thru the rich merchant's glass door. Thousands of tapers were burning upon the green branches, and colored pictures, like those she had seen in the show-windows, looked down upon it all. The little one stretched out her hand towards them, and the match went out.

The Christmas lights rose higher and higher till they looked to her like the stars in the sky. Then she saw a star fall, leaving behind it it a bright streak of fire. "Some one is dying," thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, and who was now in Heaven had told her that when a star falls, a soul was going up to God.

She again rubbed a match on the wall, and the light shone round her; in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining, yet mild and loving in her appearance.

"Grandmother," cried the little one, "O take me with you; I know you will go away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large glorious Christmas-tree." And she made haste to light the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother there. And the matches glowed with a light that was brighter than the noon-day. and her grandmother had never appeared so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew upwards in brightness and joy far above the earth, where there was neither cold nor hunger nor pain, for they were with God.

In the dawn of morning there lay the poor little one, with pale cheeks and smiling mouth, leaning against the wall. She had been frozen on the last evening of the year; and the New-year's sun rose and shone upon a little child. The child still sat, holding the matches in her hand, one bundle of which was burnt.

"She tried to warm herself," said some. No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, nor into what glory she had entered with her grandmother, on New-year's day.

The first time I read this, I was six. Amongst other short stories like Hansel and Gretel or Thumbelina or Rapunzel or Rumpelstiltskin [ I like this one too ], this one moved me the most. I think I was reduced to a heap of contemplating mess back then. Reading this again brings about a solemn mood.

!@#$%^&*

2011-05-04T19:47:00.000+08:00

granted. i am still unable to grasp the full usage of the term "paradox". i never said i was perfect. and so i asked :

And some miss-know-it-all told me this. My blood boiled. It is one thing to correct me but it is another, to call me pompous. I can accept it when i am wrong and someone shows it to me, for that is how we all learn; but when i am RIGHT, AND THEN, SOMEONE CORRECTS ME and does NOT stop there but continues on to call me POMPOUS. UGH THAT JUST PISSES ME OFF. ROYALFUCKINGLY.

Needless to say, i gave her a piece of my mind, through an email and i GRACIOUSLY await her response.

hehe this does appear puerile does it not. FUCKYEAHHH.

lalalalala.

2011-05-04T01:58:00.000+08:00

What is dependency to me?

The more you work against it, the deeper you get entangled. It is like..struggling in a patch of quicksand; analogous to a rat's endeavour in trying to break free from the death grip of a boa constrictor. We oppose as long and as hard as we can; till we reach the point of breakage, then we succumb. And that is not the end, for we have been impaled by Morton's Fork. In repressing the progressive flows of dependency, we suffer. Yet in yielding to it, we are left, lugubriously, to drown in self-pity during the aftermath of submission.

fuck the world.

2011-05-02T17:15:00.000+08:00

fuck egoists.
fuck egotists.
fuck elitists.
fuck capitalists.
fuck socialists.
fuck altruists.
fuck ascetics.
fuck monogamists.
fuck polygamists.
fuck misogynists.
fuck misandrists.
fuck misogamists.
fuck communists.
fuck democrats.
fuck religionists.
fuck agnostics.
fuck atheists.
fuck artists.
fuck charlatans.
fuck internists.
fuck ophthalmologists.
fuck orthodontists.
fuck orthopedists.
fuck dermatologists.
fuck MOLLUSKS.
oh. fuck misanthropists.

cocked gun

2011-05-01T13:22:00.000+08:00

damn emo wei.

The Drug called Music.

2011-04-26T19:26:00.000+08:00

       The train bounced and jerked intermittently. The windows were dirty. The chairs dusty. The inner body showed signs of antiquity. Even the door shewed its state of dilapidation; sliding open and close as the train swayed right and left. The advertisements lining the top section near the ceiling were laced with sinewy lines of cobweb. And the passengers packed in this cramped space were no better. All appeared frazzled and fraught with a perennial fatigue save this wailing baby. Outside, the trees seemed to burgeon in contrast, with two plain coloured birds zooming in on an unseen prey. Though when one peruses, one would only notice an immobile mass of green basking in the dull glare of the sun.

       I tapped the "Play" button.

The roar of a dragon rattled the train so hard that my ipod flew out of my hands.

       I glanced around and was befuddled. Clearly no one had noticed the gargantuan beast flapping its wings as it glided over the puny train with its claws outstretched because their faces were still wrought up with this look of self-induced agony. With a mere shrug, i picked up my ipod.

Hesitantly i tapped "Play";somehow i felt myself tensing up, as in in anticipation of something...or someone.

       But this time there was no roar. No sound. Nothing. An eerie silence encompassed me. Where was everyone? As i strained my ears i could almost hear a soft pulsating sound from a distant source. This tingling sensation seemed to tell me that i was still in the fully packed train yet there was no one around me. Not a single soul. And then i was falling. Before i could scream everything stilled again. There was nobody surrounding me; and just as quickly as it stopped, i started falling for the second time. Yet this time it was different. It felt like i was being pulled towards something instead of falling in a never-ending vertical tunnel. And the pulling force grew stronger as i accelerated towards..what? Whe-
       -...an almost visible gush of air shoved me to one side of the tunnel; then i was in the train again. Sharp elbows nudged against me and when i glanced down i saw a woman endeavouring to stand from her prostrate position. The train had veered a little too sharply and she had lost her balance; which was not much of a surprise judging from her extra high heels. Indifferent, my gaze now transfixed on the blurry screen of my ipod, i saw that it had reached the end of the track.

       Smiling to myself, i chose the next song and embraced myself for whatever it was that was coming.

mood status.

2011-04-20T01:39:00.000+08:00

i am angry. angry and mad. i just want to get this over and done with.

on the other hand, "Inglourious Basterds" is such a pleasure to watch again and again and again and again, mainly due to the primary antagonist, Colonel Hans Landa who switches between French, German and English so fluently and surprisingly Italian too! I shiver in anticipation of the day when i can do the same.

zzz

2011-04-18T01:56:00.002+08:00

ahhh fuck i am bored.

Unweaving a Rainbow.

2011-04-17T17:10:00.002+08:00

Religion had always been a contentious topic amongst men, still is. Some extremists have been known to deprecate such beliefs in an egregious manner, while others secretly formed societies that excoriate such faiths lest they be caught and tried and most repeal the actions of such men.

Adler was no such entity. He has witnessed enough sunrises and sunsets to understand the raw beauty of nature. He has often been enthralled by colourful rainbows or felt the the gushing force of waterfalls; the sheer magnificence of nature present yet ever elusive, it was like holding water with his bare hands.

Thus when he was called upon to defend his childhood friend in court, for he had been hauled up; his public speech of blasphemy; he had been shocked. Will he pull himself and Luke out of this seemingly intractable quandary or will they both perish in this uphill battle, for the law was simple; blasphemy equates capital punishment.

       "In being present, are you implying that you are of the same mind as your blasphemous friend here?" the judge had asked.
       "Your honor, in saying so, are you suggesting that i am as publicly didactic as him when it comes to objurgating the presence of God?" stammered Adler.
       "Yes," answered the judge, at the same time as Adler ended his question, though he looked slightly appalled.
        With a mischievous grin on his face this time, "Then no, your Honor." The judge stared at Adler for a split second and continued on, a little more ardently.
       "Adler pray tell me, are you an atheist yourself?" inquired the judge with a slightly derisive snort, for he knew he has cornered Adler; the attention of the court segued towards Adler now instead of the wrongdoer, Luke.

        The silence which followed lasted a moment before Adler nodded and mouthed his answer.

       "Your honor, i live a troubled life. My ma is sick, and my da recently passed. I have a little brother and an even younger sister. I work two shifts a day earning a meager sum barely enough to feed the hunger of my siblings. And my ma; after my work, i have to travel a slight journey into the mountain to collect herbs and flowers that would strengthen my ma's health and in so doing, cure her of her disease. So for me, i need something more, more than the comfort of God, to grant me the will to live on and help my family get its substantive needs to survive, especially during this winter season. I have never in my life denounce the presence of a higher entity but do you not see, that i need something more, way more than that to help maintain me and my family's existence in this vast world?"

       A soft gasp of awe flowed across the members of the floor. Now all looked back at the judge for what he has to say. With no intent of slowing down his frenetic pace, the judge's strident voice carried on.

       "This is no political meeting. So spare us your demagoguery, if you may. Answer me then since you seem so sure of yourself. Do you frequent churches to fi-" Before the judge could finish someone shouted from the back.
       "Oh give the boy a break you fool. He barely has enough time to work and aid his frail mother, not to mention feed his siblings and now you are reprimanding him for not attending church services! Have you no heart and empathy?!" A plaudit followed until the guards quietened the now galvanized crowd in the court.
       A look of irrevocable intransigence formed on the judge's face as he frantically dictated, " The next imbecile who opens his mouth uninvited shall face ten whips along with these two boys." The whole court was engulfed in silence.

      "Now tell me what of your friend? What do you have to say about his blasphemous way? Does he have a sick mother and siblings to feed too? Does he work 10 shifts a day?" his questions now enveloped in anger.
      "As a matter of fact, your Honor, his situation is worse than mine but before that. Can i, with all due respect, ask, if whether the accuser has any veritable proof to show what my friend here has done?" Adler's tone seemed unchanged despite all that has transcended.
      "Oh you do not have to worry, i have here many witnesses who have exclaimed that they heard what he said-"
      "Words only? your Honor. No burning of churches, no beating of faithful followers, no-"
      "YES words only but words are enough to show evidence that he denies the existence of God-"
      "Then your Honor i have here a palatable explanation to Luke's recalcitrant mannerism toward God and authority, if i may." Adler looked up towards the judge with an ingratiating smile. Without waiting for an answer, Adler continued.
      "Unlike me, Luke's father died in war a long time back. And his ma had ran away with another man, leaving him in an orphanage home. We would have thought that he would be well taken care of. On the contrary, he was bullied, by the other children there for he was the youngest. Thus there has never been a day passed where he had stopped questioning God why his father was taken away from him at such an early tender age and why his mother had deserted him just when he needed her the most. Overtime your Honor, these feelings blossomed into a deeply etched hatred, albeit misconstrued. And that is the case that we are all looking at here. Furthermore my friend has never been good with words, a fact supported by the lack of proper guidance since young. He tends to favour emotional talk rather than rationally constructed conversations. Therefore i believe what Luke had on his mind were questions - formed from hurt and disappointment for God has 'taken' away from him what every child should have at such an age; and he failed to understand that sometimes, God works indiscriminately and that his da's death was no punishment nor unfortunate event - which came out wrongly in the ears of the beholders you have your Honor. So the truth of the matter remains which is that he believes in God but fails to understand why this happened to him"

        The court burst into applause.

A Moment In Time.

2011-04-15T01:18:00.000+08:00

Reading this may result in a desultory shrug.

It takes 498 seconds or 8 minutes and 18 seconds for a ray of sunlight to travel the vast distance of 150 million kilometers to reach the blacks of your hair. A fact many of us have come to regard as auxiliary information. But there is a beauty to this number. It creates a daily paradox, scientific jargon and explanation aside.

Imagine you are standing on a beach, with your eyes closed. You hear the ebbing flows of the tide, the continuous caws of the seagull as well as the billowing wind. Then as you slowly open your eyes, darkness surrounds you. But only for an ephemeral instant. For in the next, the sky lights up brightly, as if someone just switched on the lights. Where is the paradox we ask?

To answer that we would have to pause and rewind. 8 minutes and 18 seconds back to be precise. At this moment the Sun has already begun to shine on this side of the Earth [ the part experiencing dawn ], yet we are still engulfed in darkness. In these 498 seconds we live with the eerie prescient knowledge that light will encompass us soon.

How is that not beautiful?

PS : the same happens with sunset, just in a reversed format.

Creatures.

2011-04-12T05:57:00.000+08:00

Creatures lurk in the dark corners of our mystical minds. Creatures that we embrace in fear, creatures that engulf fear, fueled only by anger, creatures of regret, secretly bemoaning actions done. Creatures of pride, notwithstanding insurmountable forces, creatures of envy, galvanizing wrong deeds that emerged from misled thoughts. Creatures of habit, which beleaguer creatures of curiosity. Yet there are creatures of hope and peace, convening around a pulsating ball of warmth. All tightly guarded by creatures of control.

Yet my creature of sleep escaped.

Deprived.

2011-04-12T05:39:00.000+08:00

Sleep eludes me. So does the word 'tradition'. Chinese tradition to be exact.

Irregardless i think economy is a magnified version of biology. Think about it. Just like how women are magnified versions of girls, or not.

I need to solve a sudoku puzzle in 2 minutes.

I need sleep, too.

Traffic Lights.

2011-04-10T05:40:00.002+08:00

Sometimes rays of enlightenment gently caress the palpable surfaces of our mental acuity, leaving behind in their wake the conception of an idea, at its very inception. Mine revolved around these machined self-effacing traffic controllers many of us barely take note of as we dutifully trudge on in our mundane lives. These pieces of machinery which emit different lights accordingly play such vital roles in maneuvering the traffic, occasionally even drawing violent fulminations from spinning tires as they screech to a standstill, leaving traces of burnt brake and rubber in the air. They face implacable rush hours undauntedly. They allow pedestrians to stride across busy roads. They are so essential that without, the days as we know them would descend into traffic anarchy. Yet there are those who remain intransigent to the meaning behind the lights, the gracious green for please-carry-on-have-a-nice-day, the mellow yellow for slow-down-you-accelerating-boobs and the radiant red for stop-unless-you-have-a-death-wish-or-good-insurance-policy.

They are so hauntingly beautiful because even in the absence of human and cars, they continue on in their sedentary tasks, switching eternally from green to yellow and then to red, hinting at the phantasmic existence of humanity. [Well, of course we have not adopted energy-saving traffic lights which switch off temporarily when the streets are deserted]

What AIG Did.

2011-04-09T22:32:00.000+08:00

Legend
AIG, you should already know what AIG is.
I        = Investors
IB      =     Investment Banks
CDO =     Collateralized Debt Obligations

AIG sold CDS to not only holders but also speculators. CDS are Credit Default Swaps, another complex derivative. Fundamentally they insure those who bought the aforementioned CDOs. But people who do NOT own the CDOs could buy as well! Now of course like any other insurance you have to pay premium, right? So that's how AIG earned money from this.

Sure when everyone is paying their mortgage then the money goes up the chain to AIG and AIG receives those premiums, everything seems perfect, savvy? Wrong. Have we forgotten that the CDOs were made up of loans taken by the those who would face problem when it comes to financing?

When they default, AIG pays them back, whether it's 100 cents on the dollar or not i am not too sure as that goes into the minute details. This repeats itself with those speculators who bought CDS from AIG as well. That purveys the explanans as to why AIG needed bailout from the Feds.

However these merely skim through the multifaceted disaster. For example, there is the housing bubble and the bursting of the bubble, why asset value dropped, how that culminated to a liquidity crisis or how a vicious cycle flows underneath all these, like the rebuying of the derivatives by the same companies mentioned or some sort like that which contributed to the whole economic calamity.

:D

Oops.

2011-04-09T01:21:00.000+08:00

I left out the part that is most important. Ideate this. What happens when the Borrowers fail to pay? Foreclosures, yes. Investments fall rapidly. Investment banks who are still holding on to these CDOs suffer huge losses. Investors suffer huge losses. Workers suffer huge losses.

Now is where AIG comes in. But before that let's rewind back to what AIG did prior to this impending crisis.

Subprime Mortgage Crisis.

2011-04-08T22:58:00.002+08:00

My understanding on this matter has increased somewhat marginally. Here is my take so far.

There are 6 major titles that you have to keep in mind.
1) Borrowers    [B]
2) Lenders    [L]
3) Investment Banks[IB]
4) Investors               [I]
5) CDO (collateralized debt obligations)
6) CDS (credit default swaps)

So the borrowers which are in this case potential HOME buyers will take loans from these lenders, whilst the lenders sell these mortgage loans to investment banks [Hence the investment banks are in charge of the loans]. You must comprehend that subprime lending [refer to title] means loaning money to the various groups of the society, all of which most probably would have trouble with the repayment of the loans.

Now these investment banks (GS, ML, LB etc) would agglomerate these loans along with a horde of other subprime loans [ eg. car loans, credit debt] into what we would come to know as CDOs, which are convulated derivatives. Following this, the investment banks would pay rating agencies namely Moody's, Fitch and S&P to assess the CDO and these agencies are paid and paid well. Therefore, the CDOs are given AAA ratings. Take note, these institutions merely offered their opinions on the matter and hold no responsibilities whatsoever.

What happens next is that these CDOs would be sold to investors who based their decision mostly on these ratings albeit the fact that they should first understand what they were buying exactly. Let me elucidate the P.O.V. of these investors.

They see CDOs as high return investment, higher than any other types of investment. For example if the Borrowers took a loan of 100,000 Dollars and there are 100 Investors, each would have invested 1000 Dollars; And due to the high interest rates, these Investors would get back say 1250 Dollars by the end of the bond repayment. I mean famous rating agencies declared that these investments were AAA! And they had such high return rates! Why not invest?

But what did investment banks get from these sales, i mean the risk is ostentatiously high but you see they are not the ones shouldering it, the investors are the unfortunate ones. Thus, when the investment banks sell these derivatives to the investors they charge say a 'small' fee for it. So continuing with the example, each investor would earn 250 Dollars, now, say the investment banks charge a fee of 50 Dollars that wouldn't be too much, right? Yes. That's what the investors thought as well. So therefore, short term performance is being focused on, whereby the more CDO they sell, the more they profited from it. This leads to predatory lending, where no one cares how unsuitable the loans were for the borrowers and who they lend the money to; as long as they rake in mortgage loans to be sold. Except the investors of course but this fact was obfuscated to them wasn't it?

Now, of course another reason as to why these borrowers were further mired into their intractable quandaries was because of the steep fall in house prices. Yes it was high and yes it was rising but when it suddenly fell, the eddy effect of the sudden decrease knocked borrowers down. I am still reading on this.

next is :

Why AIG Nearly Fell.

ps. i know i know i should be covering on more recent news like the ludicrous anti-blasphemy laws in Pakistan which led to several deaths or the vital ramifications after Hosni Mubarak's downfall, or the blatant refusal of Laurent Gbagbo to acknowledge the fact that Alassane Ouattara has already won the elections held in november or whether Gaddafi is going to go down but yeahh this held my attention suddenly. like a dormant seed of interest that sprouted shoots and leaves of curiosity :D

I don't get it.

2011-04-08T21:31:00.000+08:00

I may sound like an obsolete recording machine when i say this, not to mention naive and ignorant, but could Lehman have survived had they bought CDS from AIG. Did they? [like what GS did] or did they not bet against the massive bulge of CDO? Because i mean the FEDs bailed AIG out and AIG 'bailed' GS and various other institutions out but was Lehman supposed to be one of them.

Please help me.

To Read.

2011-04-07T22:33:00.000+08:00

What happens when you cannot attain an experience firsthand?
You ask others who have or you read.

What happens when you are despondent and suicidal?
Well this is a little tricky, you do the deed or in this case the 'sin'. If you do not, you take drugs. If you do not, you hire a therapist. If you do not, you read; about what others have gone through or more like HOW others have gone through.

What happens when you are unsure or feel inept with something?
You read.

What happens when you want to impress someone intellectually? Wait let me rephrase, what is one of the methods to make yourself look less dowdy?
You APPEAR to read.

What happens when you feel tired?
No, you don't read. You sleep.

Are We There Yet?

2011-03-31T11:57:00.000+08:00

Dated 13 December 2012

No one really knew when racism started, or if it was already ingrained in us but everyone knew when it ended. The 13th of September. The host of calamities that struck various regions on Earth was so sudden and so devastating that the newspaper just could not keep up with the incessant updates - even till now. It is like an intractable domino effect, where human lives are knocked down like white pins in a bowling alley. We have only one option. To stick together and face this soon-to-be ineffaceable memory, that is if we even live long enough to survive this period.

From the giant quakes that shook Australia to the eruptions of several volcanoes in Africa that spewed molten lava which razed anything in its path. From the gargantuan tornadoes that tore everything in the United States of America to the raging tsunamis which engulfed and inundated nearly the whole of Hong Kong, Japan and Korea. From the snow storms that ravaged Russia to the violent hurricanes that stormed South America. The areas straddled by the disasters are so large that even if you are in the heart of a jungle right in the middle of China, you still wouldn't be safe; where forest fires are so pervasive due to the drastic increase in the earth's temperature - 27 to 33 degree Celsius.

We can only hold our hands together and voice a silent prayer.

4:13

2011-03-28T06:55:00.000+08:00

Well it was 4:13 when i wanted to write this, an odd time to stare at, on the face of the clock as the hour hand swivels languorously, its movements the result of the slow yet continuous revolution of the minute hand which is in turn systematically affected by the second hand, tenaciously ticking away, each hand inscrutably involved in a complex mechanism of gears and ancillary springs.

My drooping eyes notwithstanding, i desperately desired to discover the culminations of all the sensual powerful sex which cast an obscure veil over the most cunning plans, each seeking to attain a selfish unparalleled objective; all these revolving around three characters in this novel i finally finished. Breathtaking.

So much so that now all i feel is this longing to satiate my want to embark on another novel novel just to replace my despondence, clearly the consequence of arriving at the end of this moving story, in which a familiar aphorism kept pulsating throughout the pages...

never trust a woman.

Despicable.

2011-03-28T04:10:00.000+08:00

I thoroughly dislike it when i face moments like these - blogaphasia.

It's not much of a personally-crafted portmanteau but it roughly denotes a situation where i, with my insufficient arsenal of vocabulary words find it an uphill battle trying to precisely paint with words what i have in mind.

It's like as if i want to flavor a Shakespeare-worthy poem with rudimentary words.

Purpose and Parents,

2011-03-22T11:22:00.000+08:00

I finally understood the reason behind the tepid effort i put in when it comes to blogging, of late.

Let me explain. I write posts here when i experience a sudden enlightenment which culminates into perhaps 'new-found' ideas which i find [ at that moment in time ] strangely sententious and irrevocably intelligent. BUT these random thoughts are mostly short in nature. So because i am incessantly offered such an astounding array of websites, ones where i am presented glorious opportunities to 'pen' down my funnies or preconceived notions in a manner where brevity is the way to go; i tend to produce a lackluster performance HERE. Because for me, a blog is where you expand your ideas with words, like adding leaves of substance to a stem of thoughts, like adding flesh to the exposed bones; like scooping a ball of ice cream and smacking it on an empty cone. geez.

And don't you think parents are mired in an intractable quandary. They have worked and toiled and suffered and persevered so that we could have a non-tumultuous free-of-labour childhood, yes? But on the other hand they don't want us to laze around like it's Sunday everyday. sorry i digress.

i'm here to stay.

2011-03-21T12:46:00.000+08:00

You know, every now and then, we'd have a certain song by a certain singer, a song that we long to hear repetitively over a protracted period of time, one where the rhythm seems to soothe our receptive ears eternally, never appearing dull; nor would it drone itself into monotonous lines of words.

Well, i have three of those songs, not one.

2012,

2011-03-14T23:31:00.000+08:00

Few years back we would have scoffed at the very idea of a Hollywood 'Disaster' movie coming to life. Voila. With the diversified media coverage that subtly seeps into our daily lives, we cannot subconsciously escape from knowing the most recent updates despite the fact that most of us are barely cognizant of the chaos around us, much like how donkeys are aware of the presence of black holes.

Remember the scene where the towering wave of green seawater rushes to land at a ferocious speed in 2012? Well swivel the 'Dramatic Knob' a little lower and you will see it on your local news, where such a disastrous calamity is reported, ironically, in the boring mundane manner of the lackluster newscasters. The level of devastation is just unbelievable. It is clearly beyond an insurmountable force here; as the whole world watches helplessly - how the unending gush of seawater destroys and ravages anything in its path.

You will see the fortunate survivors crying, hanging on for their dear lives and doing all they can to help others. But you will never, ever be able to empathize them. Because you don't see buildings being ripped apart by water, buildings you pass by everyday, buildings you have been to, even buildings you have seen being constructed. You don't live in the propinquity of an endangered nuclear reactor that emits poisonous hazardous and invisible radiation into the air. You don't lose everything that you have assiduously worked for for the past ten years. You don't have to see people die in front of your eyes, maybe even loved ones.

Yet here on the other side of the world we have autocrats going about their buffoonery under some delusional mindset, whilst killing many in the process.

To an unbiased outsider, we seem to be gladly rushing towards the 'End of the World' with our hands wide open, as if all the natural catastrophes that have torn the land asunder aren't enough.

Well, I guess that is what it takes to be human.

support the porn industry single-handedly.

2011-03-14T03:06:00.000+08:00

why blindly venture into a relationship when you can't even live by yourself happily? it's like asking why dip your hands into a beehive. or why jump out of the 100th floor with a towel. or why press the snooze button when you know you are already going to be late for work.

ramifications ramifications ramifications. that's all there is to it. if you think that by sacrificing your 'single status', it would lead to accruing bliss, then you are in for an unpleasant shock. you'd realize it justifies nothing. you gain nothing substantial.

learn to explore new things in life. learn to notice and observe your surroundings, the frantic colors, the incessant noise or the unending sky. learn to open yourself up to opportunities. learn to say yes. learn to fill your mind up with 'I'. learn to widen your horizon of knowledge. and most importantly learn to understand yourself. the things you desire. the things you need. the things you like.

tomorrow,

2011-03-12T18:47:00.000+08:00

some days i wake up wanting to be an engineer. other days thoughts of understanding the human mind fill, well THIS human mind. some days..i just want to study what happened, what is still happening and what WILL happen to the world economy. other days i long to travel the world, discovering cultures and experiencing new lifestyles.

but not today. today i woke up to reality.

Is that Captain Barbossa?!

2011-03-01T23:31:00.001+08:00

if you for one second think that that is the captain of the Black Pearl, then you are in trouble. I am reading Black Swan and no it's not THE 'Black Swan' mind you, i wouldn't read a book on a movie which i didn't find entirely satisfying. Instead it's a book that covers the most random issues and offers different points of view.

The Thing About Writing.

2011-02-28T21:10:00.004+08:00

I have no idea how those writers who have written extremely lengthy stories that could only be divided into series and sagas sustain their desire, and yes by desire i MEAN desire..

It's not that i don't have it, it's just, i get distracted rather easily and usually i lose the momentum i gain after typing down a sentence which would have been moments ago, intriguing and deep. [ which would then bring me to a new and different topic altogether and the same thing repeats itself, like a vicious cycle ] what would PROBABLY be. just 10 minutes ago i was about to analogize the world events. with imaginary schools and dissatisfied students and under-performing teachers and of course headmasters. HEADMASTERS. let's not proceed any further by bringing in the 'fantasized' Ministry of Education, lest it gets a tad too complicated. so yes, in fact i already had a few sentences down but i was suddenly assailed by a second thought. It seemed too foolish and immature an analogy to even voice out, much less blogged about. hmm.

Anyway is a court case all about directing a flurry of words, that are laced with mindful traps bordered by sentences so cunning that it's a you slip, you die scenario? And what about them razor-sharp and witty retaliations that always drew a perplexed smile which only serves as a temporary facade to the humiliation boiling underneath?

oh how i hate you bloodsucking terrorists,

2011-02-24T06:22:00.000+08:00

a sharp pain. eyes : open, shut, open, shut, open. and my clock radio showed me in these blurry numbers that seemed to form a...fiv-..no wait 4! sigh yes i was up then. don't ask me what was i doing because...i am telling you! i was watching excerpts from the supposedly top 10 BANNED movies of a certain era. hmm. anyway that doesn't matter, because i wasn't supposed to be up so early. filthy mosquitoes (yes you guessed it correctly ) bit me till..i guess the pain got through to me, despite my deep sleep.

i was just thinking that what is currently erupting around the arab side of the world is really exceptionally huge. they are /peacefully demanding for a change, ousting their 'since-forever' leaders in the process. which is just...entirely surprising, that is stacked on the fact that no one from the outside meddled with the situation as well as the important point that most of the demonstrators are below 30. will things follow the path of the 1848 revolutions or will this be a trailblazing historical event. hmm.

then my mind shifts to new zealand. yes. earthquakes. pretty big scary earthquakes. now ask yourself, what did a peaceful law-abiding country like that do to deserve the wrath of nature? or is 2012 indeed nearing?

i will perambulate around my house in the dark whilst you ponder it through.

i don't understand,

2011-02-20T23:00:00.001+08:00

how some individuals have the tenacity to wake up every morning, like it's a new day, with fresh starts and wonderful experiences that will ignite even the dullest sense. how some individuals seem to burst at the seams with drive and determination, some even with no whatsoever inclination as to what the future holds for them. how some individuals look at procrastination and laziness as a sickness, that once had, one must instantaneously rid themselves of it by pouring hours and hours of endless time into the tomes of knowledge, just to remove the bitter aftertaste. how some individuals feed off success, pushing them to achieve more, fueling their hunger for attainment like there is no end to it.

because for me, i feel tremendously motivated only when i see these people. because i imagine where i can be if i had half of what they have. but the whatever little fire that flickered will in no time often winkle out, leaving only the darkness and...( the poem, Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow being recited hauntingly in the background )

why there can be no Batman in our society,

2011-02-17T23:35:00.000+08:00

because everyone has a number.

terrified,

2011-02-16T22:03:00.000+08:00

is the song being played on my itunes; after i watched Tangled that is.

my phone lies in the shadow of my negligence. so does my facebook account. thus, i feel a distorted sense of superiority now that i have firmly extricated these...distractions. oh that includes my twitter account as well. hahaha these days the only thing that brings a 'pleasant' surprise whenever i am online is the occasional email i get. however i am not at all bored. there is my guitar, my books and my piano! :D

i think the name Alyssa has a nice ring to it.

shallow,

2011-02-13T14:57:00.000+08:00

let their anger soar,
above yours,
let their denigration steep,
below yours,
let their ego grow,
against yours,
let their jealousy fester,
around yours,
for in you lies no presumptions,
for in you lies no bellicosity,
for in you lies no greed,
for emotions are caused by expectation,
therein must lie acceptance.

found out something interesting. remember when you rub your eyes when you were but a young lad, and you see colourful spots floating around your scope of vision and then you begin to rub more and more? until well your eyes turn crimson.

well the spots of colours you see is caused by a phenomenon named phosphene. go read up on it.

it's raining.

2011-01-30T11:50:00.000+08:00

i was just about to stop writing down my thoughts here. and maybe create some new virtual space on some different platform because i think i will be getting a little more personal in the following few months. a little more private, a little less public. i might still do it though.

anyway.

yesterday was supposed to be a macchiato day yet somehow i ended up in a parking lot, surely, every slot in my mind was parked with a deep thought. call me weird but it's nice. i mean to just sit down in a car, with the seat pulled back and all plus it was raining. yes. there was even a dramatic swooshing and booming background noise while i intensified the ponders of the mind, things that i would have rendered as insignificant, had i taken the cup of macchiato, this would not have happened.

and it is all because of one word. surely you can't expect me to reveal that to you.

i run.

2011-01-26T19:53:00.000+08:00

footsteps,
trailing behind,
never faltering, ever closing,
the past chasing the present into the future,
and so i run,
yet when i turn,
all i see are...

shadows,
dancing behind,
never leading, ever following,
the past haunting the present into the future,
and so i run,
yet when i shut my eyes,
i still hear...

laughter,
echoing behind,
never lessening, ever mocking,
the past taunting the present into the future,
and so i run,
even with my eyes close,
even till the sun blows.

The Player,

2011-01-22T19:36:00.000+08:00

Once there lived a busy boy,
Who was always, so charmingly coy,
But when he got his new found toy,
Was he filled with such a joy.

Now the toy was just a playful ploy,
A little fun, though not one to cloy,
However, like this envoy,
There is always a little decoy.

two point four 101.

2011-01-18T22:09:00.000+08:00

i am as fit as a dildo, which provides a crude innuendo cum explanans to the aforementioned explanandum.

anyway, i am very very very extremely undeniably bored. Though, varied imaginations from the Wheel of Time series, written by the late and revered Robert Jordan, fill my mind. From the Aes Sedai, omnipotent women who can channel the One Power, the female's side at least, known as saidar, to their male counterparts, who are encumbered with the Dark One's taint that spreads across saidin, the male version of the One Power to Warders, sworn and bonded to the female Aes Sedai, to protect them from physical harm to the Black Ajah and the Forsakens and to the Dark One himself. But that is all. Nothing else. After that i hit a blank wall. Void.

Vielleicht sollte ich versuchen, Französisch zu lernen.

Nichts Besonderes, oder?

2011-01-14T22:44:00.001+08:00

i realized i rushed through what i wrote down previously and therein lies not much of a flow in my story but hey it was 5:45 in the morning yes i did wake up from a princess-like 13 hours of sleep but that doesn't automatically mean i can function like a monotonous but intelligent robot that leads a sedentary life well at least if i had a robot it would lead a boring life even the owner is like that who knows it might even malfunction due to the banalities it has to go through day in day out.

imagine a large cavern where in the olden days tribes from a certain area would bring their sacrifice on a monthly basis be it a male brown cow, a pig without a tail or a white rabbit, where if that deed is not done the gods would go in hunger and strike in anger at those tribes, a cavern so huge that one wonders how such a sacrifice would even suffice. i don't know how to continue that but somehow my stomach feels like that now and imma call down the wrath of gods on the refrigerator.

let me grace you with...

how.

to.

abstain.

hohoho.*tightening*

"Float like a Bee, Sting like a Butterfly."

2011-01-14T06:44:00.003+08:00

They did not see their impending doom.

The vast array of vibrant colors that lay on the back of her wings seemed to amalgamate into a blinding dizzying ball of light that changes in direction every time the wind picked up. The graceful green of the leaves partitioned with thickened red lines, right next to the deepest blue of the ocean dotted with refreshing spots of orange, all kept in bound with a black curvaceous boundary, yet nothing really beats the majestic white that spanned the lower half of the wings right down to the tails, that ended with a tinge of black. Despite the magnificent beauty, there was an edge of nervousness or rather a hint of trepidation to it as the powerful wings undulated up and down in a vicariously slow manner.

And there was a good reason to it.

Right behind was a voracious buzzing that appeared to deceptively come from the constant lightning-speed flapping of translucent wings, wings that were attached to a rounded hull that was thickly striped with yellow and black. Yellow and black that went all the way around and around but now the dual colored strips coalesced into a dark, fluid motion that zinged left and right, always a step behind the orb of light.

Neither saw their impending doom.

For not very far ahead, was a structure, so pellucid that only the faintest drops of the morning dew that clung dangerously to it betrayed its presence. And right at the center, crouched a figure so huge, so silently that it seemed like a farcical contradiction. On each side of its body stretched four stringy, hairy legs and at each end was a claw that allowed it its deadly grip on nearly every surface imaginable. Just a moment before, it had been busy feeding off a near-unrecognizable carcass that lay nearby, displaying a paucity of life and exuding only the aftermath of death. But now all eight round eyes that were located near the top of its head are casually yet ravenously focused on the oncoming sphere of light and following tightly behind another buzzing shadow that somehow seemed to blend into the background. But nothing escapes its eyes. Nothing.

what happens next?

anyway i wanna share with you a picture.
|

it had been raining very heavily. it was out in the open, there was lightning all over and its leg was broken.

do you feel guilt flowing through you? if so, a fortiori, me too, with a multiplied magnitude. i happened to pass by there and i had done nothing. at first, i had thought that the phrase, let nature do its job, would suffice in justifying my conscience. yet there hasn't been a second that passed where i have not regretted for what i had not done.

please do me a favor and pray for this unfortunate soul. this brave tiny unfortunate soul that braced the dangerous world alone, in life and perhaps, though hopefully not, in death.

i am saddened.

yes,

2011-01-09T23:10:00.000+08:00

i know i know if this goes on this is going to turn into a self-made fan site but can you really blame me.

dreizehn!

2011-01-05T23:59:00.000+08:00

how much hotter can she get.

faith,

2011-01-04T23:59:00.001+08:00

"The Art of Suicide" by Emilie Autumn is being played on my itunes, as my mind drifts towards the idea of a higher motive in life or to be specific, afterlife. Is there life after life? Or is it just a mundane unknown darkness that encompasses everyone. I don't have the urge to live anymore. Everything is crushing down on me. I can't even see the faintest of light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe it is better if i place a full stop at the sentence that tells the story of my life now and never continue, crumple the paper with my bare hands and throw it away into the blazing fire which i started...

was probably what i would have written, 23 years ago, or a shady toned down version of it.

but yes "Two is Better than One" is playing on my itunes and my mind drenches me with memories that have long escaped me, igniting creeks and corners i have forgotten existed, as i shudder in excitement at the thought of letting myself being led by feelings, emotions and hormones or in the accepted term, to fall again, in love. how i desire to stand by my other half, hand in hand, facing the future, however bleak. nothing else matters except for the presence of her steady throbbing heart...

was probably also what i would have written, had i lost my sanity, albeit a failed attempt of me trying to sound poetic.

but no. i have turned my itunes off a long time ago. no background song to ruin or set up any probable mood. i don't feel depressed. i don't feel the urge to fall in love. i just feel my faith waiving...and that is a plus point for religion. for the first time in my whole life i question my inactivity with that which is related to a higher form.

just like that, just once and that thought has flashed into oblivion, vanishing the very next instant.

quick one,

2011-01-01T05:00:00.003+08:00

it's 4:35 and no i don't feel any different although it's a new year, not taller, fatter, slimmer, richer, smarter and earlier at 12 midnight i felt like posting an fb-update stating 'you idiots who have been posting happy new year all over before this time, now is the time to do it' but then i had a capricious change in mind and it always happens with school with studies with blogs with daily chores one second i will be okay let's do this next second will be okay maybe later i will do this first so yeah i just wanna quickly go through the two posts that i have previously left hanging to spare you the banalities of my tend-to-be lengthy explanations of various insignificant matters in our boring lives my previous post well what i had intended to do was to go on and list everything that i'd like in a girl and then at the end of it state that i already knew what i want in her the thing is i have no idea what they want or what she wants if you prefer reading things in singular form and another post which i have yet to complete was the story of the dad and the son where the dad told the son to hammer a nail to the garage wall every time he gets angry at something so that he would learn to control his anger so after a while the son got a better grip over his emotions and one day when he could already keep his emotions in check he happily told his father who then told him to remove one nail from the same wall every time he succeeds in denying the control of anger over his actions and so he went about doing that and in no time all the nails were removed "what now father?" the son had asked and the father said in a sad voice "son look at the wall, look at every crevice, every crack you have left on the wall when you were once angry, even after you removed the nails the scars remain, even after you apologize the pain remains, so son, let this be a lesson, humans are weaker than the wall, take heed" so happily ever after i am happy i finished the two posts and i don't think i can sleep i don't know why.

i know what i want,

2010-12-29T23:29:00.000+08:00

i like flats. not the ones with flourishing exotic colours. just normal plain looking ones. i like slippers too. i like leg bands. bands mind you. not chains. too girly. maybe even some tattoo. i like...ARGHH i lost my focus come back later.

belief (cont')

2010-12-28T11:51:00.000+08:00

where was i?
ahyess. the multiple roller coasters of emotion that emerges from time to time, bubbles of chaos and miasma that drift to the calm surface, only to ameliorate what would've been a rattling experience with the opposite sex. speaking of which, only just recently i rode, yes i did, a wooden roller coaster and if your mind wanders about how bad it could have been, let me gladly inform you that it is..ONLY the world's steepest wooden roller coaster, at 77 degrees, YES GO DO YOUR MATH. if anything, this ride was the heartbeat of fear itself. and the worst part was that i got on with a full bladder. thus, only one thought kept regurgitating in my mind throughout the entire 'journey of joy', which was pleasedon'twetyourselfisitendingalready. well technically those were TWO thoughts. i reckon, full bladders and towering rides have a way with mushing and coalescing your thoughts together such that it all sums up to one ugly monster which seeks to frighten you with figments of imagination. so yes, roller coaster of emotion fits the adage i am trying to get across.

single-targeted anaclisis is as ugly as it is beautiful. as normal as it is special. as demanding as it is in giving. as forgiving as much as it forgets. to put it short but not sweet, it's a hyperbole of contradictions, so extreme that everything is accepted to be the norm. and if i were to be intelligently empathetic and sympathetic enough, i'd practice apathy with it, perhaps even with a tinge of hypocrisy for one can only piously deny the desire that rumbles beneath. yet the main reason lies in the fact that the writer of this post embraces what that appeals most strongly to him first before coming to a halt of realization that it is a little too late to concentrate and centralize his efforts on building a solid wall of knowledge for himself that could have brought nothing but success. so yes i've successfully described what you'd term as a relationship in a non too forthright manner.

if i was organized, i'd be dangerous.

belief,

2010-12-28T02:55:00.002+08:00

remember the time when your mother interminably orders you to go to bed early. from there, fast forward.
no no not to the point where you'd fall asleep feeding yourself information in the all too familiar last minute fashion for the written Biology test the next morning. somewhere in between.
yes yes now we are within the proximity of what i am trying to get at, i can almost feel it.

the folding of our bed - the sheets, the positioning of various items that lie on top of it and lastly the comforter - yes this was what i had exactly in mind. remember it? how you were supposed to tuck the sheets in to erase any trace of folded or crumpled parts on the bed sheet, making it look altogether brand new except for the fact that it holds the slept-on-and-washed-ten-thousand-times dimension to it. how you were told the method and the position to place your bolster in, your plentiful soft toys, your pillow so as to provide a somewhat subtle soothing frame to the end effect of a successful bed making. no doubt you are often reminded that you'd have to pull all four corners of the quilt comforter to ensure each side is equally distributed, sometimes to the precision of a mathematical equation, as humanly as possible without any further aid of technology. yes this was it.

but screw that, that's not what i wanted to talk about. though i have likened that process to the telling of a story. how everything has to be neatly organized in an ordained manner.
a story about how i have been lately.
it still holds me in disbelief how, without fail, every time after i come back from a trip overseas, i'd allow myself to sink into momentary trances where i cogitate and reflect just about anything and everything. like for example, i find it profoundly disturbing how with the abstinence from any form of web-based social communication, comes an assortment of distractions and temptations which main objective is to attenuate my focus in life. it reminds me of this part in SAW where the harder one fought for freedom from something the harder it gets and finally the more tied down one is.

naturally, the idea of a pleasant form of 'propinquity' pulses gently at the back of my head from time to time too. but..i can't possibly allow that. like the aforementioned, this too, presents a handful of - i shall continue this tomorrow.

The man who couldn't kill himself.

2010-12-15T22:21:00.000+08:00

The rose collapsed inwardly, the once vibrant red that flowed from its meticulously shaped petals fading rapidly, replaced with a colour darker than black, a colour clearly representating death, quickly, as the black darkness spread right down to the stem where his fine fingers curled.

The tree trembled and shook, before shuddering to a sudden serenity as the leaves which were green and crenulate just a moment ago now fell to the ground, a tainted breeze gently billowing over the leaves that seemed to hung to the branches for their dear lives or what remained of them. Brown, crumpled and dry. They all fell to the ground. Along with strips of bark that came off, some brushing of his arm, his fingers.

Everything he touched died. Everything. As he raised both his arms in dismay. Everything died. Bringing them, spreading his fingers over his face, his sharp strong nose breathed in the stank of the death as they drew nearer. Everything ceased to live. Preparing himself for the pain he would feel. Everything he touched faced death. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they made contact. His hands. His head. Death.

And he let go a rictus of grimace, which trickled into agonizing screams. No. NO. NOOOO.

Nothing happened.

Dark Restaurant,

2010-12-15T21:29:00.000+08:00

recently i found out about this concept. wait, no it's not a concept, it has been out there for some time. nevertheless i just found out about it. and that's what matters.

so the name says it all. it's dark. really really dark. pitch black in fact. what? a restaurant? in darkness? that's worse than blasphemy, you say? but it's true.

wish i had experienced before so that i can say more but for now, all i can do is read about other fortunate people's stories.

it's a very very well-thought up idea i feel and very meaningful.

now that is a TRUE blind date :D

what doesn't kill you

2010-12-12T23:31:00.000+08:00

only makes you...stranger.

or so it was quoted by the Joker.

well i don't know how that applies to what i have to ejaculate. i screwed up. it all boiled down to one time. and it didn't go as smooth as i wanted it too. hell. but. yes. i am motivated. strive for the best, no? nevertheless i screwed up. darn it. after all the hours. shucks. blunders. i was so bloody nervous. argh.

a machine doesn't work well on rusty chains now does it.

chopinwannabeblogposts,

2010-12-12T16:31:00.000+08:00

yay :D see the bands on my hands? i don't know somehow they make me play better! odd mindset huh!

i like fear despite how i always lose to the battle against the everfluttering butterflies which linger uncontrollably within me. the ebbing tide of control against the gravity of chaos quickens the flap of the wings and weaken the strength of my knees. *brrrr*

let's see how far few weeks worth or practice gets me :X

makeup eats me.

2010-12-10T23:32:00.000+08:00

i am a fan. really. how makeup miraculously transposes things that would've otherwise escaped our selective blindness. really. when the before and after are juxtaposed, you will still be somewhat amazed. i have fallen victim countless times to this cunning fronting. however one thought eludes me why don't most males do the same. i mean..if it has the magical surreal effect on females, its bound to produce analogous outcomes on the 'darker' sex too right. really.

come on even male peacock fan their amazingly positioned co-..feathers to the females during the s-exciting rutting season. that is unless i got my roles reversed.

conclusion. i love make up for what it enchantingly does. i hate make up for what it does to significantly obscure what my eyes see.

needs,

2010-12-10T20:36:00.000+08:00

i can't be going mad.

but two nights have passed. two long draggy nights. i might even add cold to it. the reason is...my tool of technology, the one that allows me to do nearly everything was infected with some hardassed trojan. and it went down, real hard.

everything became dull. the curtains were a few shades darker, books riveted my attention like how mice would, to a well-fed tiger, the guitar sounded odd and even the piano seemed sorry for me, displaying it through the sound made by the many wrong keys i played. my focus flickered like a candle in the windy evening. something was missing. a profound absence. an overlooked necessity. a dulled-down drug.

i would step into my room only to realize nothing really entices me any longer. skipping everything, i'd let my feet lead me, in a trudge towards my bed. despite in its all out effort to soothe my what-i'd-term-as withdrawal symptoms, even the bed knew i had gone too far this time. but..

i can't be going mad.

bowdlerizing [ the fucks ],

2010-12-03T23:18:00.000+08:00

"what are you doing now,z-win?"

if there can ever be a phrase that i despise so much that i channel all my emotions into one momentary display of control and serenity, supposedly lacking in anger and hatred, masked by a simple smile, hiding the twist of a sneer - that would have led to a rictus of dissatisfaction - around the corners of my dry lips, dry from anger and disappointment, then this would be it.

stop..asking..me..that.

sigh

2010-11-30T22:19:00.000+08:00

i need someone to hold me tight and tell me that with practice i will be able to do it.

challenge and rambles,

2010-11-29T23:53:00.000+08:00

just simple english.

the only way to fully conquer a challenge is by rising above it. like if you want to do 50 push ups easily you have to force yourself to do 60. speaking of which, i wake up every morning trying to be like bruce wayne in batman, where i do my quick twenties on the floor.

that also brings me to the this incident that just happened. so right, i placed my ipod on shuffle and out of the hundreds of songs it decided to play the one song that brings sweetness and bitterness in one package. the song that i've been practicing tens of times a day. never fully mastering it. the song that not only brings pain to my fingers but arms as well. like it was mocking me. an ipod. can you believe it? mocking me, WITH the shuffle mode turned on. funbelievable!

nevertheless i think one always fails to note the bass of a song. the treble part lays the soul for the ears, yes, but i believe it's the bass that gives the body to hold the soul. it's like this complementing part of the song that completes it yet no one ever really realizes it is there. like how good friends who complete you who are there for you without you realizing it. like the relationship between a rubber and a pencil, one always erasing the mistakes of the other, hurting itself in the process.

can i be a warder? reading robert jordan's wheel of time does affect me a lot.

just an amusing thought,

2010-11-28T23:16:00.000+08:00

wouldn't it be nice if we were all born with a certain bond to an animal. not of our choosing but one that reveals our true nature. like everywhere we go he/she will be with us.

that would be so cool.

Sizzle Fizzle,

2010-11-27T14:33:00.000+08:00

oh the short break from blogging has only marginally dulled my need to relentlessly rant on subjects of minuscule importance. like the obeisance of a child toward his/her parents. or the inordinate influx of beyond-senseless reforms. yet today, i shall scantily dwell on such menial matters, if at all.

i have a story to put forward that i feel, strongly, holds much meaning, extraneous or not, that is for you to decide. figured names and details matter not.

a wise father once told his growing son, who almost always threw tantrums around the house when being ordered around [ oops is that obeisance? ], that every single time should he get angry, he must gather the old nails that were once part of the wooden shack behind their house, to which now the place holds a furtively maintained...argh. i got bored. wait ah. later.

first,

2010-11-22T22:08:00.001+08:00

you crawl, then you walk with stumbles, then you walk a little better, then you run. finally you fly. that is the course of life that everyone goes through. well minus the flying part of course.

the same happened...is still happening for the song that i intended to play [which i blogged about some time back] :D i know i know i said i would do it in a few weeks. but i am near completion now. IN FACT! I might just actually get a chance to present it to this...school. not sure what's the name again but yeahh...tonight was my best night of practicing. little errors. better timing. though need plenty of tuning up to do :/

to be able to play with emotions, i will have to know the keys by HEART. yes Amy thanks for correcting! :D

contrary motion,

2010-11-19T17:35:00.000+08:00

a simple way to keep your emotions in check.

step 1. choose a distinct object or abstract matter that you can imagine, with little or no problem, in your head.

step 2. run that imagination over continuously until your mind knows exactly what to focus on, when you want it to

step 3. every time your control over your emotion wavers, summon that image into your mind. here is the tricky part. it will not, no, it will NOT be easy forming that image. hence, you will need to 'space out' but of course you do not just stop what you are doing or supposed to do. nevertheless, you will need absolute concentration. of course you will need to plant the idea first. i will explain a little more later by giving an example.

step 4. feed all your emotions into it. let control flow back to you. tadaa. remain calm.

yupp here is my example, my image is a candle. a white candle, with a blue flame. i would let my sense for details fill the empty gaps and then slowly i would set every emotion that i need not aflame.

you laugh, but it works :D

man on the run,

2010-11-17T00:59:00.000+08:00

does this display loneliness or solitude?

kid yourself not,

2010-11-16T17:49:00.001+08:00

every now and then we come across an expression of words, designed to stimulate senses in us that have seemed to be dulled by our almost monotonous ritual of life. some stick, forever, some shed a different light unto what you normally see, some make you laugh, sounds of happiness, some make you reflect and some..just make you cry.

here is one that did all the above except making me cry. i would like to add that i roughly made up these phrases myself as i could not find the exact words after a simple search.

' For every harsh word that you throw at her, your love, there will always be another guy out there soothing her with one that would almost seem angelic in comparison. For every tear you make her shed, there will always be another guy out there who would not only wipe those tears away but perhaps shed more on her behalf. [okay maybe not] For every moment you make her wait, there will always be, come say it with me, A-N-O-T-H-E-R G-U-Y who will accompany her till your arrival, be it by phone or flesh. And for every time you fail to tell her that you love her, there will always be another guy telling her that she is cared for.....so cherish her or another guy will'

This definitely made me reflect and ponder about how much more stupid it can get.

Just do this, take out the first half of every sentence and you'd realize that these things are definitely going to happen, regardless of what the guys do, henceforth, the former part is just added to make you feel guilty. Therefore, if you as a girl think that this gives you the license to freely lean on any other guy, every single time you hit a wall, big or small, then you are the real culprit, culprit being a very polite understatement; because there is no couple out there who will not disagree. When that happens, tears will fall, words will cut. And if you don't hold fast and sort things out, it's never going to work, half a clam cannot swim. Remember that, you.......culprits.

Lukas son of Mikhael (1)

2010-11-15T23:44:00.000+08:00

A man could not have faced five armed men unscathed.

Perhaps one can draw tales like this, stretched and drawn to such preposterous lengths from ecstatically embellished folklore legends. But the fact remains, one does not face five men and survive to father his heirs for the next Coming, much less live to talk of his own deadly encounter, twisted and conjugated amongst the roots of absurdity.

Yet, Lukas was no such man. Yes, he was a swordsman and a fine one, even amongst the older, experienced generation of his village. But even he had never place his life on such a thin line. Then again, he always had the Fair Lady's luck. Fiend! The villagers would tell stories where he would roll the die with Death himself! And live! However, tonight seemed to push his luck to the point of spillage.

He had noticed the five men much earlier in the evening, trailing him like bees to honey, like silent crouching hyenas to a lone male goat, one side hungry for fresh flesh, one side hungry for green grass. Yet, it never occurred to him he would've landed himself in this situation. Without him realizing, as he had been so intent on studying his followers, the five of them had skillfully maneuvered his movements to this long awaited moment.

Trapped, at the dead end of the road, Lukas had only one last choice to make. To let the die roll.

And so he turned around slowly...

bird's eye view,

2010-11-13T08:59:00.000+08:00

if i could, i'd just lead myself to an island, far far away from any land, from any form of population, excluding plants.

and i'd stay there till i miss civilization.

what's your most ideal place?

2010-11-12T19:17:00.000+08:00

mine's definitely a bookstore. or to be more precise. MPH.

i just love bookstores. from the smell of new books right down to the calmness you can feel when you shut your eyes. i can certainly stay in one for hours just strolling around looking at everything and nothing ((:

not only that, unwrapping [ though it's more like shredding through the plastic cover for me ] a newly purchased book brings me unspoken joy. i would shiver in anticipation when holding the about-to-be-opened book :D :D :D well, in my defense [over my weirdness] i used to be an avid reader and i am trying to revive the spirit back, yay(:

familiar, a little,

2010-11-11T23:49:00.000+08:00

do you know the feeling when you are really bored, like you are in the state of mindlessness and you get bored with everything that you did or are doing, literally everything and then just like that, just with a change in the direction of wind, your mind sets itself on an all too familiar path, mayhaps one you did not take or perhaps one that you did and lived to regret for, and like how rain miraculously 'dissolves' into sand, your subconsciousness is seemingly transported back to the moment before you made that decision, suddenly colours flow from every corner filling gaps you never knew existed, exponentially increasing the vibrancy of the mere fiction of your imagination; and then you start pondering, thinking, fathoming about all the different things that may have, could have, would have happened had you made the other 'right' choice, and then, you try ever so gently at first, ever so subtly, to rid yourself off those thoughts that stick like how a baby clings to her mother when suckling, to immerse yourself in a sea of self-created distractions, and you find it futile, like adding salt to the sea, and then you start to drown in that sea of doubt and negation, perhaps even depression, drown as you blow out your last breath in the form of tiny bubbles that you feel running up your face to the surface which is getting further and further away; and just as you were about to give up, a violent tug pulls you back up to the surface with a force that would have ripped a child apart...and then there was light.

i am pretty sure mine's up to the point before there was a magical violet tug.

Through With You,

2010-11-10T06:21:00.000+08:00

Can you see me
Floating above your head
As you lay in bed
Thinking about everything
That you did not do
Cause saying I love you
Has nothing to do with meaning it

And I don't trust you
Cause every time you're here
Your intentions are unclear
I spend every hour waiting for a phone call
That I know will never come
I used to think you were the one
Now I'm sick of thinking anything at all

You ain't ever coming back to me
That's not how things were supposed to be
You take my hand just to give it back
No other lover has ever done that

Do you remember
The way we used to melt
Do you remember how it felt
When I touched you
Oh cause I remember very well

And how long has it been
Since someone you let in
Has given what I gave to you

And at night when you sleep
Do you dream I would be there
Just for a minute or two do you?

You ain't ever coming back to me
That's not how things were supposed to be
You take my hand just to give it back
No other lover has ever done that

Heartache heartache I just have so much
A simple love with a complex touch
There is nothing you can say or do
I called to let you know I'm through with you.

my all time fav from the m5. so much meaning!

* i don't get people who add words into what i say when they tell other people. i mean, i'd totally get it if one chooses to miss some part out or twist the phrasing a little but adding words? come on........you can do better! right (: i have faith.

Here is a Note,

2010-11-08T00:56:00.000+08:00

I like the idea of blood, thick tainted blood, dripping, at first, then trickling..then flowing and finally pooling; pooling as I feel life seep slowly away, drop by drop, trickle by trickle..till the soft thumps of my beating heart slow in tempo with the clock that ticks everlastingly, as all sound seem to fade into the darkening background, growing further..and further, till it takes forever to draw in a breath, till my last vision of the words I wrote began to blur away.....and then there was eternal bliss.

my new wound,

2010-11-05T16:10:00.000+08:00

because of this!

this morning, i turned the handle clockwise to let fresh cold water splash on me. that was when i found out about that deeeep wound i had. tears. now every step ignites my pain receptors. verdammt.

how to be a good son, part 1,

2010-11-03T19:58:00.000+08:00

hahaha :D HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII.

let me just tell you a simple secret. when you tell yourself that you MUST do something (a.k.a. setting an imminent goal) instead of merely saying the all too familiar [come say it with me] 'AKHHH, LATERRRR LAHHHHH, after i finish this "insertwhateveryouweredoingintently"....damn lazy siaaa noww' , you will most likely achieve it. like what i did today.

1)i told myself i'd wash the cars. {PROOF}

2) wash the dog

3) anddddddddddd read up on the articles i have. aiyahhh later lahh that one. let me finish blogging first :D

tadaa. see. my hand and shoulder beh tahan.

wa ka lu kong ah, walan-eh. SAKITAN DONG!

altshift.

2010-10-31T23:13:00.000+08:00

N.P.

that makes it to my list of abnegation. never will i try that again. let's try something different then.

i cannot uphold what i've written previously.

i've broken back into my old habit (YY).

.

Maybe,

2010-10-31T02:51:00.000+08:00

I should focus more on myself before I get to my twisted thoughts that I know many have come to disagree with. I know i am 13 degrees off.

Vielleicht kann ich eine einfache Einführung machen?

I keep my nails short. It just feels good. I have really bad hair-ttitude. When I am not bothered, I just am not. I smile easily. I do not have normal double eyelids, mine is on the lower side of my eyes, which are pretty difficult to notice. Nevertheless I got lesung pipi. Not tall, not beautiful, not hot. Surprisingly, profusely shy, which is making me feel extremely odd right now because this post should be like my first one. Hopefully this would ease my nervousness, here is a picture of this dog near my house.

it's adorable how she comes to my window when she can, just to peep inside. and everytime without fail i'd speak to her, thinking that she can't understand me. how foolish of me right. she's quite a puppy thus she still has puppy eyes and i am terribly affected by them. HAHA.

anyway...i just read naruto 504.. this is only gonna be understood by manga readers. sigh i don't know why now the story is just strolling down the depressing path. one after another and i just grimaced when i read the part about naruto's parents. where they sacrificed themselves for him and what the mother did and said. all those tiny little insignificant nags, those moments were so beautiful and they struck close to heart. so depressingly beautiful. mmm. before i start sounding incongruous to how i am supposed to be, the young adult, i'd better stop...but still. );

2nd Day & STORY TIME :D

2010-10-27T20:26:00.003+08:00

One does not fail to notice the man standing amidst the irregular-sized paintings, which were arranged in such a chaotic manner that there seem to be a subtle order to them. From the dull, golden gilding of the frames that clasp the works of various ancient artists in their places to the layers of dust that ludicrously bring a new feature on the now dried colours, one could indistinctly tell that the masterpieces, hung so stiffly against the faded castle-white wall, were age-worn. So old that it makes the man look out of place, as well as, naturally, out of time.

Yet, one does not fail to observe the man who stood as still as an oak tree, transfixed upon the paintings that blatantly blast an array of colours into the still, quiet atmosphere. At a glance, his gaze seemed to be fastened to one particular illustration, though upon a second one, the angle of his face obscures the exact painting he appears to be admiring and in a Mona Lisa way, one could only wonder where his eyes followed.

But there was one painting that stood out.

It was as though the motionless figures in it materialized within the confinement of its spell-bounding shade of colours. The whiteness of the fresh, still-falling snow, the way the red screams 'BLOOD', the rusty silver of the armours that seemed to conceal the hard-trained muscles lying taut and ready on two deadly warriors that were locked in an embrace of death and that brilliant orange in the background which uncovers the time of the day, dusk and along with it, the coming of night.

And if one delved deeper, like how the man might have been elusively doing, one could almost hear the clang of metal against metal, see the sparks that were elicited and feel the strength behind the blows of the swords with the whooshing sound of the wind that followed closely. How parry after parry, strike after strike, neither presented an opening for the other to exploit. How effortless and elegant their movements were that it was as though a dance was taking place, only that here, if either faltered, it would have meant a swift death.

That is when time stops and everything halts in their tracks except for the occasional draft of wind which precipitates into the rustles of the leaves. Only then would one notice the grimness that showed on both faces, one, a handsome, stoic face which held features fit for a prince, the fire in his bright blue eyes shining as fiercely as the flame-shaped emblem on his breastplate that was full of dents and scratches, the stance he carried, his long sword up high and the crimson red cape that rippled behind him; and the other, whose face was partially shadowed by the dark veil he wore, his jet-black hair tied neatly behind, his dark silver-coloured armour which silently creaked with every of his movement and the gait he held that showed nothing but malice and anger...

A shoulder-shake jerked me out of my daze.

" Sir, I saw that you've been standing here staring at Sir Luke Pfifer's work of art, like what that man in the painting is doing, for the past half an hour," with a giggle, she continued, " You must have been in awe. I don't blame you, this one does have its charms. It's my favourite." A toothy smile lighted up on her face with that last word. A smile that revealed dimples I realized countless men must have fallen for.

And as I went on staring blankly, still in confusion, sieving reality from imagination, she leaned in close till I could catch the waft of her seductive perfume, which till today I have not been able to identify, and whispered to my right ear, " Let me show you something you'd never take your eyes off." With that, she slided away from me. All I could do was follow and smile because I could have sworn I saw dimples too, on that princely warrior that I, deep in my heart, hoped would win the battle.

p/s how i wish i could live in the knight era. i feel like i don't fit in this current world. anyway nothing much seem to change. however, i think i might be experiencing slightly heightened sensations. let's hope for more? :D

day 1,

2010-10-26T21:49:00.000+08:00

nothing much. still sane. how disappointing. thought i'd have a clearer mind. conned.

have you figured out what i wrote the other time? ayaaa it's just a simple first word of each sentence, mind you. nothing too intelligent.

i need to learn how to use the blusher siaaaaaaa.

hmm,

2010-10-25T22:07:00.000+08:00

Her eyes weren't the most beautiful i've seen yet something there made mine linger. Maybe it's the vulnerability behind them. I can't really tell. I could've sworn too that she's isn't the princess material nor does she possess the latino hotness. But..it felt strange. It felt wrong. And the best part is I was somehow attracted.

It's such a pity I don't really know her well enough, nor will I get the chance to.

Encrypted, 1st,

2010-10-23T18:00:00.001+08:00

If and when someone tells you or sends you or writes something which you do not understand on your first contact with the information, then it's either rocket science material or it contains a hidden message which requires you to spend time revealing it. You may choose to ignore such situations but we humans are curious, we like to explore and find the answers to objects we do not truly understand. Are we patient enough to seek it? Reading into cryptic messages require more than a keen mind, an inner will is necessary to keep you going till you acquire the last drop of the answer you lust for. This, isn't present in most of us.

I, on a totally different but somehow related topic, wish to say that i am outright confused with certain things. Want and desire are two contrasting nouns that are constantly swirling in my mind. To say that i am lost is an overstatement by itself, yet to say that i am not does not seem too right as well. Tell myself that i don't need to bother with such things, you'd say but once our minds are set on a goal, our subconscious relentlessly pursues it despite knowing the consequences of it. You know why, because we would constantly ponder what would have happened if we had chosen not to carry it out.

That is only a small part. I do hope you understand what's really here because i've never tried this before, though i must add i like nicely formed sentences which hold a secret meaning to them, when connected. Have you ever gotten meaningful messages that contain feelings and secrets. Feelings that you may not yet come to realize. For distractions keep us all busy enough not to notice certain things. You are, for now, mine.

p/s can you see through what i have written ((:

OH,

2010-10-22T23:59:00.000+08:00

i love the British accent (:

food for thought,

2010-10-22T18:08:00.000+08:00

we'd doubt the most qualified doctor on a certain diagnosis so much so that we'd get a few other doctors' perspectives. yet we fully believe the likes of a tarot reader/future reader/'insert whatever nonsensical name you have'.

all these people claiming that they can predict your future have got to go.

ghosts too. have you ever pondered why only when we are alone or..are in small groups that this eerie feeling descends? that 'insert scary bg noise' there is a certain presence around. everytime it's one person or two or three, maybe one or two more but never in groups larger than 10. do you really believe that it's because they are afraid to 'come out' when there a lot of people?

picture this, you are in a cafe with loads of people. now picture it again, this time without anyone but you. you'd be scared right? (eg. Will Smith at the CD shop in I Am Legend) what bloody nonsense with ghosts and whatnots. So, you could conclude that it's all in the mind.

sigh. sorry i keep focusing on menial matters at hand. they keep me distracted from the main thing in life right now.

here i am,

2010-10-21T23:35:00.000+08:00

criticizing the world again. as usual. you know sometimes i despise myself for complaining so much. but hey we like to complain about other things and I, naturally am no exception.

i think the standard of books out there is decreasing. walk into popular and mph and you'd see top sellers going to books involving vampires/werevolves. books that manipulate the fantasy side of a growing kid's mentality. books that deplete the mind off its potential to imagine. books that lack in complexity, filled with teenage simplicity, books that are, in my personal view, a waste of time to read.

i mean come on, this goes to those avid readers out there, compare the oh-so-great twilightologies and the likes of robert jordan's wheel of time or tolkien's works. it's like comparing verses of twinkle twinkle little star with stanzas from shakespeare. seriously.

damn it.

point form,

2010-10-21T00:05:00.000+08:00

-i just want to immerse myself into the stories of everyone's lives. all those around me, absorb everything. and slowly shape my mindless thoughts around them. draw happiness or strength from them.

-holidays isn't doing me any good. if any, it's worsening my state. free time lets me think. and i rarely think about positive stuff. it's always about rationalizing.

-i miss non-online contact.

-hate it whenever the need-a-sister feeling comes slowly creeping in. like really.

-every now and then sudden images formed in my mind makes me tingle. eg, playing a grand white piano in a white room, standing on the rocks by the beach, kissing someone by a man-made fountain, rolling downhill on the plains, watering a growing flower in the snow. i don't know random stuff. but then the rest of the time it will just be filled with a dark need/desire/feeling that i can't pinpoint the source of.

-and no this isn't an emo post, it's just an outright depressed one.

where are my patches damn it.

N,

2010-10-20T02:10:00.001+08:00

damn it. i have no idea how much i miss it.

anyway, i like pain. no i am not s-m but yes i like pain. not the kind that affects my daily routine. more like the kind that exists as a painful annoyance to remind you every few moments that your body is busy repairing the tears you strained on your muscles. especially the kind where your whole body aches. that is the best :D CRAZY right? pain is good :D

eh. i guess i kinda figured out the answer to that particular Q. i wasn't running away from someone. maybe from the current constant in life

messy soon to be beautiful,

2010-10-10T23:38:00.000+08:00

my train of thoughts.

to repeat the quote 'music is my life' would be much of an overstatement. though a little out of topic, the quote 'academic blunders makes my present life' couldn't fit more suitably.

so i've been on the instruments quite often these days. still as bad as ever with the guitar but i am brushing up my piano skills. though my hands, my wrists, my fingers and even the tips of my fingers are paying the price. and i'd like to insert something i read a long time ago which is

add : an amateur practices until (s)he gets it right, a professional, till (s)he could not get it wrong.

Socks,

2010-10-06T22:46:00.000+08:00

I think worn socks tell us a lot about a person. About how the person is like on the inner side. Literally and metaphorically.

because you see there was this once when i was on a train ja and i saw this well-suited man. REALLY REALLY WELL-SUITED. from head to toe. impeccable.

till the moment he sat down.

HIS SOCKS!

They were hideous! There were holes, they were loose and dirty. It just goes to show how MUCH effort that one man puts in to groom himself near perfection on the outer side and how LITTLE effort he puts in to maintain an inner and outer equilibrium. Hence my conclusion? Your outer apparel can be one's worst nightmare but if you do your socks right, you'll be fine.

hahahahaha.

verbal retaliation,

2010-10-06T22:39:00.000+08:00

everyone can retort. blunt ones. witty ones. sharp ones. hurtful ones. funny ones.

but what most can't do is to accept. now read carefully, imma digress for a brief moment. here's an excuse that's bound to work when your parents are angry at you for 'answering' them.

" No one, sons and daughters included are born with the natural ability to take orders directly without questioning them, be it within or without. We challenge them, mentally or verbally because everyone has a different stand and IF a pair of twos were to have the same perspective, then whatever that comes out from either mouth is definitely not going to be close to an order. It's going to be a revelation of how alike you two think. SO, we are made to defy, not to a defy-or-die point per se but you get my point. Hence, whenever we 'answer' you, do not for one second think that we are doing so just for the sake of forming an annoying resistance because all we really want to achieve is for you to understand OUR point-of-view. AND [ this is the most important part ] if you as our parents can't even accept us, as your child, to want you to understand our way of thoughts but instead choose to conclude that we are just aiming to anger you then who else out there will bother with how we think? " i self-crafted this. it can be a lot more flowery though anyway this only applies to young adults who can think for themselves of course. to hell with those kids who whine and answer back at you. HIT THEM.

OKAY. Back to topic.

To accept. That is a move most people cannot, can never do. And when i say accept i mean even if you are right and that person is in the wrong, you take it all in. I am sure you think that people will figure it's a sign of weakness coming from you but look at it this way, it's a hidden strength. Don't waste time explaining yourself to these people. If they are any good they will feel bad in no time and an immediate apology will follow. If they don't? Well let's just say it's time saved because they'd NEVER accept your point of view. Besides, you will see how stupid you make these people feel when you don't respond in the way they thought you would, which is to retort.

AND if you are really good, you could actually RETORT by NOT RETORTING. Now that's a skill. To quote what i heard recently, you slap that person in the face and you have him/her come thanking you for doing that. So yeah.

pictures don't speak a thousand words,

2010-10-02T09:25:00.000+08:00

if they could they'd prolly speak pixels. anyway, some random shots i took:D

i ain't sure what's happening but i got shots (:

i like this one whee the blurred car and the awesome background.

i think this is nice. it looks so surreal. hmm.

let's talk about socks next time around. HAHA.

paying my respects,

2010-09-29T20:58:00.000+08:00

sorry double posting. this is for beethoven. he is the man. seriously.

when i played 'those who fight' by nobuo uematsu and conquered [ not perfected ] it, i thought wow i got a difficult song. that was before i heard part three of moonlight sonata. and looked at the 5th symphony.

it moves my 'soul' everytime i hear it.

yay let's learn them (:

snow lotus,

2010-09-29T20:51:00.000+08:00

and so i made my first batch of this so-called enzyme drink which is partly alcohol. here is a picture.

see that big flask with a siever on it? that's the new batch i made. ALL BY MYSELF. *claps* the wine bottles contain the product which is partially enzyme and alcohol and the rest is just the mess i made during the process.

temporarily i am feeling a lil light because i drank a few cups. HAHA. it's like my legal ticket to take alcohol in front of my parents. but look down not on the benefits that this enzyme is supposed to bring.

of course it will be nothing compared to... eg.

hahaha. i remembered the silly funny incidents that happened prior to this. not many bottles but we were a lil tipsy. hehe i loved that holiday man.

.yllis si evol

2010-09-23T20:32:00.000+08:00

it's quite epic how foolish we get when we go through relationships. oh don't you just wish you could just jump into one right now and do all the funniest, live-for-the-moment and stupidest things with someone special [ if you are single ].

i don't. thankfully.

life,

2010-09-21T23:04:00.001+08:00

we don't live long enough to see many things through in our lives. scientific experiments, investments, kids so on and so forth. an elf's lifespan should be more than adequate.

i wouldn't mind becoming a vampire(:

Get more funny pics and MySpace Layouts at pYzam.com

eat my shit

it will past,

2010-09-17T23:55:00.000+08:00

ever get the feeling where you suddenly feel so gloomy and despondent and you can't do the things that make you happy.

this would definitely make me jump. oh yeahh :D

the L word,

2010-09-16T19:24:00.000+08:00

a pity this kind doesn't exist, or does it?

something one would rather explain in scientific terms and experience in literal terms.

):

2010-09-14T22:45:00.001+08:00

i am only left with like 25% of that song before i can fully work on the tempo. sigh.

i think that 40% of the msian drivers shouldn't be given their license. and if at this moment you are thinking along the lines of ' oh you think you are a helluva great driver' then let me tell you the answer. Yes, indeed, i am. I have definitely made my mistakes [ and still making them occasionally ] but I continuously improve myself (with the help of my dad) but those in the 40%, what is that cina phrase again ah, OH, got medicine also cannot cure.

and every time when i take the ktm train and i see SINGLE women on the 'unisex' part of the train, i feel like telling them 'excuse me, the government built a fucking coach for you ladies and disallow men from entering it; as it is the [again] 'unisex' part of the train is jam-packed like a sardine can and you wanna be so bloody selfish. TO WHAT PURPOSE? it's worst when i see that the ladies coach is partially empty. fucking asinine imbeciles.

oh how i scoff at the idea of msia moving forward ( though deep down know that i do wish for that to happen ) when they can't even get the people to do the simplest of things like making way for the passengers alighting the train. i bet you know what they do, yes that's right, they form a wall of bodies at the exits/entrances making it a tedious affair for those inside to get out. today i saw this mother carrying a baby and holding the hand of another toddler being squashed as she tried to push her way through the throng of, i would say uncaring bastards. it was a pitiful sight indeed.

nevertheless i have faith that the younger growing generation has more insightful and selfless minds to make the world a better place.

one,

2010-09-14T09:43:00.001+08:00

maybe things would've been different if I have had a sister..

anyway, i feel that religion is causing more harm than good but it is all due to the weakness of humankind to use it as an excuse behind their asinine acts.

still, life might just have been different in a better a way. hmmn.