Just maybe, you're gonna be the one that will save my soul eventually, the one with the power to bring me forward, to complete me and teach me about life.
Just maybe, for all the things that we've been through up till our break up and reunion of some sort,
just maybe, and definitely that I will change my habits, mood and temper,
maybe we could be together for long enough. Maybe we'll stay like this forever.
Maybe, if this is what life disagrees with, I'll start all over again, set out a new quest for something that I've already had before.
But better? Not sure, but pretty sure it'll come with much need for change.
Maybe if this is what life intends, I will come back. We will come back.
And I'm lost. Lost between the two controversial lines of need and want.
What I had been given, I lost and give it back away in equal amounts if not more.
On a line with two ends I can't see what infliction I made upon you, but I can only guess,
from your vibe, your eyes and the empty holes for words unpresent.
With a shrug and a sigh, followed with an empty hope and a handful of regrets and intends for redemption, a fear inside that this unnecessary primitive testosterone-driven ego will reemerge to fuck things up,
I live with it and I know I will not go through this well. But there's more things than life itself that won't wait for me. You, for instance.
I don't believe anybody feels the way I do about you now.
The last post was sad.
I get depressed sometimes and after the depression everything I've thought about seem so stupid.
So I'm gonna update with pictures on this one.
See, I was looking through the gallery in my phone the other day and found all these photos I took that hadn't made it to be shared in my blog.
A picture is worth a thousand words. Oh those memories. Life's a crazy trip and there are just times in those moments of depression overload when you ask yourself...
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
So here's a picture of my precious chilling under the sun
This was in fact taken half a year before and she died months ago while I was still in KL. Together with her mother but her mom, I mean the bigger dog, went days earlier than her and left this little one suffering with no appetite and energy to do what she normally does. Just like that she died, such a sudden. I wished I was there when that happened so I could at least see the whole circle of life thing because this little one was with me since she was born. Oh wells. I'm not getting another dog anytime soon, because everyone in the house was quite relieved that there's no more burden to keep pets and attending their needs of food and company.
。。。。。。。
Chilling with me lads. There's just something about steamboat that keeps people together for eating. It keeps people busy getting food and getting them cooked and meanwhile have a little chat, or there will just be a long silence in the intervals of food getting cooked enough to eat. The awkward moments. But not with this group, there'll be no silence, but there'll always be someone left out in the main conversation. What I hate in gatherings, when you can't fit it into what everyone's enthusiastic talking about or have totally no idea what sort of dialogues you can contribute. But it's still great time seeing old faces that brings you back to old days, and have that feel of going back to where you once belong.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。
See this. Haha. I thought cooking myself can cut down the costs of me eating out, but in the end it's more expensive. But it's okay because the fun in preparing it is like something you want to pay for. So to the rules of no cooking in the hostel, up yours! What's the worst that could possibly happen? I had a stove that uses those cute butane portable gas cans big as a ridsect and a pan. And I made sure the gas cans are taken out after I used them, also not saying that I believe they would explode and cause the whole hostel block on fire. I'm also certain that cooking doesn't bother anyone. Who gives a fuck.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
Okay. Just sharing something I found out from recipes on a macaroni box we never took time to give a fuck to read. If you didn't know yet, boiling macaroni in milk will give it a better taste, because it absorbs the water you use to boil it with, so by boiling with milk it has a rich taste of milk. Feel so dumb for not knowing this before. Haha.
So, behold this plate of kickass macaroni. Actually was given by Felicia as a birthday gift, this box of macaroni, and in a case of monkey theft, a monkey opened the box and tore open the package just before I got there. Consider this macaroni given by Felicia, rasmikan by a monkey and cooked in the IPBA hostel.
。。。。。。。
Here is a rare video I took while on the way back to hostel one day. Saw this motherfucker on it's way down from another one of his mischief. Apart from being amazed by how it worked out this escape plan, it's a realization that you just can't mess with creatures of mother nature.
You just can't win. Thinking in another way, we are the intruders; this is rightfully THEIR home, not ours. But anyways, what they took away was ours. So part of the life in Block 1 for me was a war against monkeys. This validates it.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
Reminder for anyone who wants to have a dinner of two Domino pizzas and to eat in the room, always close the door and make sure it's locked, that's if you are too hungry to share it with anyone else. Or there will be a swarm of hungry mouths coming in herds once they detected the presence of food.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
Drawing paper, pencil, knives and paint makes stencil. We did left behind some of these graffiti back in block 1. Good luck finding out where they are.
The two faces there are made by Farhan.
。。。。。。。。。。。。
My favourite pub to hang out, have some beer and be unproductive. Finnegan's irish pub and restaurant, just outside Midvalley. When everything is too hectic, it's best to go to a pub, sit down and relax. No loud music like they have in clubs, no drunkards, just people coming to chill, to have a nice meal or a chat with friends.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
You know you hate it when you wait in line at the airport for check-in and some people ahead takes up more than half an hour. Just saying. I might be at the same place as them if there were problems with my flight, like what I assumed they were having. Just gotta be patient.
。。。。。。。。。。。。
I would start with an apology for this video because I was an idiot for putting it on low quality settings when recording this. I have no idea how it changed that way. So it was a borneo gathering in KL, and Taib Mahmud was there, but that's not the point, and there are free seats and free food, but that's not the point either, since we got there late and had no place to sit and I didn't even care to give others any competition in grabbing the food, so basically the gathering was for me just the performances. This one was awesome. I forgot the name of this old man, shame on me, but it's awesome.
Panasnya hari ini! Mungkin hujan besok hari!
Hujan was there too. I'm not really familiar with him, but whoever knows him, well he's there and he's singing with Mizz Nina.
In all honesty, I did not expect that Mizz Nina looks like this. I thought she would be, well prettier? Not that she isn't, but it's a little bit distant from what I had in mind. Well, whatever, nevermind.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
This was during the school-based experience program. So there I was given chinese lanterns to carry around in the dark while having a walk around the school compound with the kids. I don't really get the point of it though, with all respect to my own culture and tradition, what's the fun in it, carrying a lantern around. The little fun I get from that was actually just making my best effort to make Amir's lantern go out as many times as possible as he lights it up again. And protecting mine from him. Oh, the childishness. But seriously, no fun in it. At all. It could be cool though, if one decorates his house by putting lanterns around. But not carrying it around. Remember this kind of electric lantern that runs of 2 AA batteries and plays a repetitive tune until the melody gets stuck to your head? I can relate if it is the type of fun that people will not understand as they grow up, like times when kids go to shopping centres in the old days and ask 50 cents from their parents to ride the car thing that's nailed to the ground, that shakes front and back with some disturbing music playing. Yeah, I guess as people grow up they forget the fun they had of being a child.
Irony was seen on this night: there was only one chinese boy who attended the event, the rest were mostly malays. And that's great. The small numbers of chinese students rather stay in prep doing revisions in their classes. It's beautiful to see how this event is embraced by people from different cultures. This is a symbol of interest in understanding each other's different culture. People need to do that more. And so far, from what I have seen, and very sadly I say, chinese from my point of view are generally vain and think too highly of themselves. YES. It's not completely a bad thing if you have a high self-esteem, but don't underestimate other races, don't make assumptions, don't avoid understanding things you don't, maybe because you fear a change in your own head. Let yourself be free of yourself and that stereotypical paradigm you hold on to. Go out and learn, my fellow chinese! And to all other races, it's stupid to criticize others and blame it on the race they are.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。
Oh, and this one is worth mentioning.
During the school-based experience program, while staying temporarily in a hostel, which was actually occupied by someone but I guess that person had left for a period of time. And I found a book, that turned out to be a diary on the table in the living room.
And what do ya know, it's a love diary. :)) HEHE!
It touched me really deep down the heart to see love. So perfect right there, in words and pictures. In the diary there was desperation of missing that someone who happens to be quite far away, promises for future, and an assurance that this love will live on regardless the distance and time.
I was made speechless by this.
But just before the sadistic darker part sticks its head out and says that nothing lasts forever.
Well, whatever, nevermind. Everything's beautiful while it lasts.
For you, lucky one, who have gotten here and read this, someone else's love story. Treat it like a secret between reader and writer. I feel guilty of putting this up, but hey. No one forced that person to put the diary on the table.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。
Boredom in class takes out the artist in you.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。
Jammin' man. There on the left is the guy who inspired me to learn guitar.
I had not actually learned to play any instruments before, maybe just the flute in primary school, but that's out of the case since I never touched that flute after primary three and the last time I saw it, it's partly corroded by some acid leaking from a glowing stick I kept in the same box with it.
So I think it's good to learn some guitar, well what I think is, it's not that hard to start with since I have friends who can already play it around the institute. And it's cool. What more can you say, guitars are cool.
Music is an attribute to art, they say, so look what I bought myself:
This is my first guitar, got it at Sungai Wang.
And it's alright for being china made but one problem is, the strings are too far from the frets. Then I heard from this another guy at a guitar shop that random unbranded guitars usually have this problem with the distance between the strings and fretboard being too fucking far.
But after a few modifications, using sandpaper to make the saddle thinner and turning the neck angle lower so that the strings are lower to the fretboard, it's all okay now.
It's never too late to learn isn't it. So I found a new hobby and am loving it. I believe people who start as a child will play better today, but people who start now will still be able to catch up with time. At least that's how I think it is for me. Still, need more practice. And it's fun to peel the calluses off your fingers, haha.
And Kerol on the right being a beginner like me.
The greatest appreciation of music might be playing it.
And I'm gonna bring this further by jumping onto the topic of modern music, bloody Kpop.
I respect that everyone has their own passion, their own interest and their own taste like they say, to each his own. But like those who stand under the signboard of loving Kpop, I'm under the signboard of hating it because of logical reasons. I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks like this. Someone told me once that my opinions are too extreme and I'm offended because I don't get it.
Well look, I get it, and I am offended by the music.
Hate me for saying this, but respect my opinion and prove me wrong in the comments, I say Kpop isn't worth all the fame it is having. Not because it's not my personal taste. I listen to a lot of genres, and I appreciate those who deserve the appreciation. But for those like Pitbull club songs that sells the message of drinking, dancing, having sex, and all over again isn't worth being one's favourite and crazed about. Not pointing my finger at Pitbull, surely, but too the whole genre of stereotypical club songs. Give me a song that teaches people about life and something "jiwang" that's in the club song genre. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it because there's completely no point playing something people want to listen and understand the lyrics and what message it's conveying in a club. People in clubs need bass, hard strong deafening bass, not lyrics, so that's understandable. But saying that you love club songs and club songs are the only thing you listen to, man you don't know what music is.
Yes, maybe music in my sense is different from yours, that's cool. But we're looking upon what music actually is, it's an art and a message in audio. And if you want to say you're listening to "songs" all the time, then understand that songs carry both the music and the lyrics. Mainstream songs these days emphasize more on the music rather than the lyrics, it's cool if the music gives the songs a life, making it like a scene and a vibe that runs along well with what the singer sings, but the mainstream songs today are too heavily music based. Fuckloads of bass or techno with repetitive lyrics. "Baby, baby ohh." "You a stupid hoe" "Taxi, taxi" "Girls bring the boys out"
Maybe you would say there's totally no fault in that, because music can be a manifestation of a feel.
And that's it. I just don't see the point in it.
After doing some research on songs from Girls' Generation and some other band names I wished I hadn't known, I hoped I can have a change in opinion, but my stand still stays the same.
Even if I'm one of the 21% population of this planet that hates Kpop, I'm not surprised by the numbers. These Kpop songs have a lot of reasons to be liked: they are stereotypical and repetitive, that's what makes it easy to sing to and remembered easily. It gets stuck in your head for days. And what gets stuck in your head, you will soon get familiar to it and start liking it. Eventhough it lacks value in the artistic sense and creativity and is just shallow. The voice is sometimes autotuned, yeah cover up what you can't do and let the technology do the work. There's a huge family of Kpop lovers out there, waiting to share their excitement of loving Kpop with a fellow fan, so there's the feeling of belonging. What sells in Kpop, besides the songs are the singers themselves, nice face and fashion. Though, I have a lot to hate on that. I understand going through plastic surgery to have a better presentation of oneself, but to sell their music by selling their physical appearance? And lots of fancy music video and dancing moves as well.
That's like wrapping shit something bad with colour papers to brazen it out. Adele is fat, Buckethead covers his head with a KFC bucket and plays his guitar, Lemmy from Motörhead has a thing on his face, Marilyn Manson smears his face white and put lipsticks all over his face. When music is good, you don't need nice looks to sell your music. Or should I ask, can you love Girls' Generation like you do if the singers were all shitfaced ugly not so goodlooking?
And what I hate most. Snaredrums! I hate the fact that Korean male singers are wearing in a way that they make males today look feminine and gay. Not that I'm bashing gays now, I'm not there yet and probably will not because I have some friends who happen to be gay, and are proud of it, and I'm happy that they are just that brave to walk out of the mainstream version of ideal and reality, and basically it's unavoidable for someone to have that probability to become gay. I mean, if you say, gay parents will have kids that will eventually become gay as well, then might I ask if straight parents raise kids that will be straight when they grow up? I'm not supporting it, but staying neutral.
So back to bashing these Korean pussies. I mean, seriously? I can understand if people who likes gothic culture dress gothic-ally because they are expressing their lack of beauty in life, but individuals with a penis dressing so femininely and being treated as the attractive fashionable ones? Being men has something to do with being masculine, being viking-like, or smart looking businessman with a tie, whatever.
Maybe I should explain my meaning of feminine dressing. It's when you dress anywhere near that of Super Junior. I wish I didn't know the name of the band. Shave the side of your head, paint the remaining yellow or green or rainbow.
It's just too superficial. Too feminine. And guys should have maintained that manliness in them.
If you happen to be a crazy Kpop zealot and happen to be a guy, go wear a fucking blouse.
I'm bashing on the modern music industry here. Not just on Kpop and their obsessed fanatics, and that everything is about Kpop these days.
Sometimes I wish music was reinvented and start with the oldies again.
I'm done with these evolution thing in music, fashion and mindset. Well, whatever, nevermind.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
So I was pretty angry.
In a few months back, our course was busy with German evening event, which we invite students from other institutes to come over and see some performances related to the german langauge, and we've gone through a lot of shits, getting scolded unreasonably by lecturers just because they are too worried if we would fuck up this once a year event that carries the reputation of our institute. But we eventually put up a pretty decent show. And everyone was satisfied. One of my lecturers even literally had a big headache until she can't come to class because she's too worried about us messing the whole thing up. And we got blamed anyway for it.
After all that we've been through, it was over and we were relieved. Lecturers were satisfied, we were satisfied, happy ending.
But there was a lecturer from other department (not from our international language department) came to us before that german evening and asked us to join a theater competition in Perpustakaan Negara and to my surprise, everyone agreed to join. And I was one of the only two guys who had enough of these events and preparations. Maybe I'm a lazy bastard and an inactive member of anything and everything, but I thought it is everyone's logic to not look for extra trouble and everyone had to have enough for a time. But well, I was wrong and everyone had to join this competition.
I'm not even sorry for saying this, but I'm angry because of my laziness. Hate me all you want.
After just 3 days of practice for our show for the competition, we went up on stage and got 3rd place which won us RM 1500. And there were other teams from other teachers training institute that had been training and rehearsing for weeks and months.
That definitely was a huge surprise and I gave in. I had to change my view on them.
I was in the same class with 14 crazy geniuses.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
Last picture of all I took while I was in KL. Look at this fuckload of things I had to move out from my room. We have this rule in our college, we had to move to a new hostel house every semester, so it's a pain to pack up since I keep too many things. My speakers, two printers, my pillow and bed stuff, plates, cups and glasses, books, files and papers, some clothes, my pail, a half bottle of shampoo.
But thank god all these are kept in the common room for storage at Block 4's ground floor, and I'm staying in that block when I go back in January.
Gonna write my next one soon ;)
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
As the ending of this post, here I share a song. If you're ever in a bad mood like I had.
This is also the first song I learned to play on my guitar. And I sing it all the time.
Once again I'm going to start this post by expressing an empty expression of how sorry I am to have not been writing a lot here. Yeah, long time no see, long time no hear. This is not another complain about how bad my hostel in my institute is. This is going to be a reflection.
So far, this blog has been visited more than 4,000 times. Not a lot, but I'm grateful to whoever reads what I'm writing here. A lot of writers will write in their pages a thank you to the readers, I'm gonna do the same. Thank you, for reading and appreciating my posts. Hugs to those who gave feedbacks.
I just like writing. It's like chatting, but with a blank column with no replies. A hole for dumping whatever you think should be let out and thrown down into words on screen. You're reading, I'm writing. See the fun in it. And what makes it more fun is when you know someone is going to be sitting in front of another screen, reading and condemning, criticizing, smiling. But whatever it is, it's an appreciation of this work from my fingers. I'm going nowhere with this, just saying.
So, what has been happening. I'm 19, slightly anti-social, have a lot of opinions on things I see, I'm turning radical, being honestly careless as usual, knowing more people, failed in more tries in pursuit for love, faced my own demons, trying more things that people keep telling me not to and becoming more of a man than I used to be. Well, in my own version.
God this sounds so personal.
Have you ever sat alone, and swarm over what you have been doing with this life, thinking about who you were and who you are now, thinking about how you look like in the eyes of others, thinking about the current, fucked up past and the coming future, where you are probably going to expect surprises when you are not expecting any. Sometimes I think of this life like smoke, shaped random and undefined, uncontrolled, unguided, it can be anything it just turns out to be, the wind can change it and it will just follow the direction the wind blows, but the same colorless gray. Give it a blow and it just fades away, diffusing into the surrounding air. Short-lived and temporary. Life is a lengthened existence of a fading cloud of smoke.
This is a moment of a dark mind.
Don't tell me there's still many years ahead to go. Don't tell me that I've barely gone through anything.
No one knows if tomorrow is going to be the end. And up till now, this is what I feel and I'm stuck here until something comes and pulls me up from this dirt.
I don't beg for sympathy for this black corner of mine, but I'm giving a shout out to those who feel or have felt the same.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
I'm disgusted by many I've seen who are hypocrites, unwilling to be direct which will make many things so much simpler when they do, also those who are just so deep under their version of ideal and reality that they cannot accept or even try to understand that of others.I'm disgusted by how people are blindly following the mainstream as they cower in the face of rejection and denial from those who are following the crowd. It's okay to be different. It's okay to stop following and live your own version of ideal. If your path is eventually the wrong one or whatever they say, know that there's no right or wrong on this sense, what's right for you is naturally the right choice.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
By the way, to girl V and S, you broke me for a small period. Thank you for that. I'm just starting my collection of scars in my fucking heart. Thanks for giving me that glimpse of light, a false hope that kept me running towards that day I see love again like a mad dog. You've made me number. And I'm not saying this like a heartbroken man bitching and asking for sympathy and words of comfort. I'm madly angry and my rage has no end to it. A while ago I kept wondering if there was something wrong with me that make me deserve these rejections. That didn't took long before I decided to store away my little fucks to give, as I realize that the only problem here is you, V and S. Go fuck yourself.
。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。
"See a new beginning rise behind the sun, we can never catch up to them, as fast as we run." -Marilyn Manson, Running to the Edge of the World
"But someday,
in a stronger age than this decaying, self-doubting present, he must yet come to us, the redeeming man, of great love and contempt, the creative spirit whose compelling strength will not let him rest in any aloofness or any beyond, whose isolation is misunderstood by the people as if it were flight from reality- while it is only his absorption, immersion, penetration into reality, so that when he one day emerges again into the light, he may bring home the redemption of this reality; its redemption from the curse that the hitherto reigning ideal has laid upon it. The man of the future, who will redeem us not only from the hitherto reigning ideal but also from that which was bound to grow out of it, the great nausea, the will to nothingness, nihilism; this bell-stroke of noon and of the great decision that liberates the will again and restores its goal to the earth and his hope to man; this Antichrist and Antinihilist; this victor over God and Nothingness- he must come one day."
-Friedrich Nietzsche, on the genealogy of morals
到了机场后吃完早餐，check in 一粒行李后要过海关时被一个工作的华人拦住，要我秤我hand carry的另外一粒行李。疲倦的我秤了一下竟然是12kg。（运气啊！你死到哪里去！）差一点就逃过秤行李的那一关，现在还得check in 本来打算hand carry的行李。买好的 add-on 15kg 行李刚刚只寄10kg还剩下5kg可以放。因此得掏钱在机场买多一个80块的行李来寄多5kg的东西。弄到来花掉整半个小时。疲倦的我真的很疲倦。
