wishlist...

I was thinking that I should start keeping a wishlist. Truth be told, I have plenty of wishes, but unfortunately nothing that most people can afford me. I think it would first be a good idea to show you my old wishlist (which I also did not write), to compare with my new one, which I am about to write. This will give you the perception of how different I am from my former self.

Old List

~Total and absolute world domination, but must remain annonymous.

How empty, and yet how impossible to fulfill. If you don't believe this, ask any of my old friends. I was such an arrogant ass that I really thought it was possible. The list then was edited to incorporate the more possible stuff, circa 2004.

~Must have made first million by 30.
~Have a 7 story house, 4 stories of which are underground.
~Must control the global supply of something infinitely valuable, like air.

See? What a retarded turd, intelligent, but with a definitely warped sense of reality. The new list shows a more hedonistic, but at the same time holistic and achievable list. This only was made possible by the new mentality and personality and fucked up person of after December 2004.

New List

~a spanking new and powerful mp3 player
~my own spanking new and powerful laptop
~another spanking new and powerful camera
~a totally madeover room (with stuff of my choice)
~a car, not too expensive, but not one of those cheeseass Japanese junks
~nice clothes
~hot and studly bod
~a girlfriend
~lots and lots of expensive coffee
~world peace, right.

So self centered, like duh, all wishlists almost are. But a whole lot more achievable. A few I already have, or on the verge of achieving. Like the first and second. The camera is coming soon. The new room is highly unlikely, although it is possible that the room itself will be new, in a new country that is. The car is nowhere near achievement. New clothes I'm working at, I already have a few, as with the studly bod (!?!?!?!?!), lolz. That's gonna take serious renovation, lolz. A girlfriend. Hmm. That one I think I'll never find, I'll probably die a lonely person. Lolz. Coffee is possible, but will take time. World peace, meh. I couldn't really care less. It's not possible, as long as people take everything so personally. So, I think I'll scratch that one off my list. Lolz.

Wishlists

Wishing,
And wishing,
It's nothing if you're not doing,
Why have one,
If you can't get none,
Might as well wish for the sun.

tremor what?

Apparently, there were tremors last night at around 1. According to reports, they came from the Sumatra side, traveled across the Straights, wound up in Penang and Selangor. It hit a few areas around here like Bangsar, some parts of KL, and also, strangely, Subang. I was up, chatting with two people, when it hit. Supposedly. I felt nothing. At all. Zilch, nada, nyet. Apparently, some of my friends were thrown out of bed, those that were staying in apartments. And I knew nothing, until the next morning. Very confused, even at that.

It get's one wondering. Imagine, how many tremors there are in our lives, and how imperceptive we are off them. I would probably not have noticed if my house crashed down around me, as long as the computer remained on and fucntioning. Meh. Do we even know about the tremors after the fact? The thing about our own tremors and the real life equilavents is that very few people are interested in informing you of your own, while there are hundreds of news agencies reporting earthquakes. Sadly, both are potentially devastating. Think about it.

Today's a crap day. Like I predicted, my serotonin overdrive yesterday left my brain with a depleted supply, and I was feeling all depressed. And to top it up, I had this mildish fever the whole day. Vague enough not to stop me from going to college, bad enough to destroy my day. Meh. Ever had one of those not-so-good days after a perfect day? One's sitting right on my face.

I have no more inspiration. But I was thinking, how powerful an effect my writing has on some people. Then again, it could be that they were just faking it, to boost my shitted self esteem. Really nice, people, but I don't need all that. Fakeness might fuel for awhile, but it's worth nothing because it don't keep the engine running. Worst of all, it clogs up the transmission and screws the combustion chambers. So people, if you really mean it, take the effort to tell me properly. Then I know you're for real. Otherwise, it's all talk and no do.

Sigh, I think I offend too many people. Seriously, the only people not offended by me are the people who understand me so thoroughly that it's painful. My parents are always offended by me, and no surprise. Some of my closer friends are offended by me, all the time, altough they don't show it. Chances are, you'll probably be offended by this, too. And it's sad really. I know what's up, but I can't do anything much about it. Why am I saying all this? Because, I don't expect any single one of you to change at all. Not a bit. At least, I don't expect you to force yourselves to change. Know this, that I know my defects, I know painfully enough. I know how painful your might be to you. I don't expect you to change, I'll happily accept you as much as I can, annoyed though you might make me. Like a saying I'm about to make up: if you're gonna buy a fruitcake, don't go picking out all the raisins.

Lost in Translation

I told you
There never was a reason
To worry
About my current desperation
But somehow
The message never got through
Or was it
Just lost in translation

hedonistic delights...

Have you ever noticed, how much we say we don't need this and that, how we can live without it, but once we have it, we wonder how we ever survived without it. My mom's a bit like that. When we first got our computer, she kept saying that it was unnecessary piece of junk that she would throw out should we even consider squabbling over it. But now, once she discovered that it could actually stream live stock market data, it's as valuable as hell. And all along, she was getting on fine with newspaper reports. Amazing.

I must report a plethora of delights that are long overdue for me. First of, an early birthday present cum SPM reward cum scholarhship share of money. I was given a grand total of 6350 to spend. 4000 for birthday, 1350 from SPM, 1000 from scholarship. And with 950, I got myself a Zen Micro. Woohoo, an advanced mp3 player that's waaaaayyy better than an i-Pod mini. Anyday. These Singaporeans may be kiasu, but to a very nice effect. As of now, I have another 5400 to spend. I think I'll blow 4000 on my Nikon D70 with a flash, and maybe another 400 on memory cards. The 1k is left open for a variety of purposes.

Damn. Pok just gave me an amazing piece of news. I'm in the top 10 of the ICPU program. And the only male apparently. Woohoo. Maybe I can go home and claim money. Lolz. Greedy greedy. Just hope I can keep it up. Today's Physics test results were pretty nice. 37/38. One stupid mistake, otherwise I could have gotten a smiley face. Lolz.

Ahh, life's looking up. No reason to die for now. Must live long enough to justify the Zen. And also to show someone what I have. Dance class is tonight. Hope the day keeps to that up level as much as it is now. Otherwise, I really can't complain. All I need right now is a girlfriend, then I can die happy. Lolz. No, I still have to live to satisfy my reason for existence, whatever that means. Mayhaps I should just learn to make pasta. And feed the poor for a year with expensive marinara sauce, lolz. Do I seem to be getting a bit random now?

Poetry is for the Sad

There's no reason to cry
As if you're gonna die
Cuz everyone's gonna ask why
And then you can only lie

Cuz you're happy as ever
To be sad again you hope never
Joking around you sound clever
Morbid thoughts from your mind sever

You live like it's all to be had
Like your happiness is a passing fad
But be thankful you've ever been glad
Poetry is for the sad

wahey!

Today was a rather unusual day.

I woke up, and straight away spent the next 2 hours chopping onions. After that, I spent 15 minutes grinding black pepper. Wierdness. Oh well, when you want to make black pepper sauce, you have to do stupid things like that. Now I smell like those sour cream and onion Pringles. Well, I guess that makes me yummy, lolz.

Today I met someone new. Well, technically not new, but never seen her before, so yeah, I guess new. Ee Wen, friend of Pok's, now also friend of Jin's. Very interesting. And tall. Woohoo, now I know another girl almost as tall as me. And very interesting person, too. We went to watch a movie, then went to get my sharktooth pendant (for the second time), walked around aimlessly, had a Baskin' Robbins each, and then found a present for Evans. We walked around aimlessly, talking about random stuff, nothing really indepth, I think. Had to go back by KTM, kinda fun, except for the wierd smells in the train. Haven't Malaysians heard of deoderant? Man. Terrible. Anyways, it was a fun day, but rather fattening.

I was thinking, why is there always a dip in my social connections with my regular friends everytime I meet a person I know online in person? Really. It seems to be statistically viable. When I went to meet Darien in person, it seemed that all my regular friends had disappeared. To be fair, it was during Chinese New Year, so I really can't blame them. But now that I've met Ee Wen, I noticed that all my friends have also seemed to disappear, although I see them a lot more often in person. Coincidentally, of course. Am I confusing? I think I will stop this topic now. I'm starting to confuse myself.

I think I really get pissed when reading blogs where the authors can't bother enough to type in a legible manner. And use the correct punctuation. That is soooo annoying. And use proper spelling, for the sake of God Most Almighty! Or if you're pagan, whatever is it you worship, like blatant and hedonistic consumerism, or something. Typos occasionally are okay, but if you have to fucking make a fucked up mistake every two fucking words you fucking type, then don't fucking bother. And don't swear, lolz.

Ergh. Poetry time. Sometimes, I swear, it's not even worth the effort. But apparently, it's the only reason some people come to this blog. Mehness.

Hating What I Do Best, Sometimes

I hate this
I really do
I really hate it
But do I have a choice?

The public loves it
The public adores it
It's their only craving
And it's for that they're saving

I hate it
But it's what I do best
And it's who I am
But I hate it nonetheless, sometimes.

mwahahaha, bored...

It seems that my short bout of ungratefulness has generated a 'flurry' of response. Well, about being ungrateful, I know I am most of the time. But hell, I get to write about it here if I want, lolz. That's the power of the blog. Mwahahahahaha!

Missing a dear friend a lot. Well, yeah, I always miss her, but the thing is now that she has no access to the online-ness of things, it's even quieter here. And as it is, very few people talk to me online. Very. Few. People. Oh well. Suppose it's better than nothing.

Today I had 4 tests. In one day. Four freaking tests. In four freaking subjects. Fuck. Lolz. I suppose I should be thankful (again), that it wasn't 5. Well, it was going to be 5, but we had the Calculus quiz yesterday, so thankfully it was only 4. Not that it would have made a difference, mind you. I never 'study' for tests, quizes, exams, and the like. Never ever had. Don't see why you people need to anyways. You should already know everything on the test by the time you get it. Isn't that the point? Mehness. Anyways, my only real gripe about it was that I had to skip lunch to take the Physics test. Again, not like it would have made a difference. I was going to not eat anything anyways. Don't seem to have an appetite anymore.

I discovered that all the teachers in the ICPU have become very, uh, firm with the students lately. Reports from other classes confirm this. It's like the staff meeting they had last week sorta hatched a little conspiracy within the staff. While they're yelling at us for being late, noisy, sleepy, etc., they're probably secretly laughing with glee that their sadistic little plan worked.

The LAN project this time round was a bit more interesting. My group wrote on Sex Outside Marriage, Abnormal Sexual Behaviour, and Homosexuality. It was really really long, considering we only had about 6 pages of material initially. Lolz. Nothing a little bit of random and opiniated rhetoric can't fix. We handed in about 22 pages of work. I was thinking of posting it here, but I'm lazy. If you want to read it, MSN me.

Poor Keith, I don't even know his surname. I think everyone's being rather mean to him, even though he's not exactly the most pleasant person himself. But today was his birthday, and I think everyone knew. Yet, I don't think anyone wished him a birthday of any kind at all. His face was black as the freshly tarred road outside Taylor's. Poor guy. I think it was kinda deliberate. But to blacklist someone on their birthday, I think is beyond low. Personally, I didn't say anything, not because I didn't want to, but rather I was in no mood myself.

Mehness. I hate being at home. It's always so tense. I won't say why, because once I start agreeing with myself, it's gonna be hell. Honestly, I only want all my own stuff is so that I can move out of the house real easy. I'll already have a laptop, a car, my clothes, a camera, and stuff. Enough to start a new life elsewhere. Not that I'm looking forward to living anymore. Lolz.

Wait, I do recall saying nothing personal on this blog. Hmm, anyways, not that nobody knows anyways. I will sit here and sob my pathetic life away for awhile. No poem; no mood, no inspiration...

not so thankful after all...

Damn you Pok, a simple little comment like that from you ruined my mood for the rest of my week. Lolz. Not your fault really, most likely it's just me. Still, it's that stupid little comment that got me into this melancholy. Hmm, wonder how you gonna get me out of it, lolz. Oh well.

I don't think I'm really thankful. If I was, then I would finally be able to come to terms with myself. But then again, no one is really thankful either. Like for instance, I really should be thankful that I have such excellent results in SPM, but I'm not really. I want that fucked up Moral to be an A. But I guess I should let it go. Likewise, I should be satisfied that I'm at the top of all my classes, but then again, I'm not. I act very smug about my results in front of the others, cuz I know that if I show how unsatisfied I am, it will piss them off. Kinda like what Veevs and Jane did to us, lolz. So I just smile and give this rather stupid grin on my stupid looking face. Anyone ever had this?

Just a secret thought that I thought I would like to share, though I know that's it's really improbable. I wanna know if anyone's ever had a crush on me, lolz. It's kinda egotistical, but it will help boost the mood this week, lolz. It would really be interesting to find out, though I would probably be rather depressed to get the answer I know I will, lolz. Meh.

For those that have my MSN contact, you will probably notice that I have been putting very depressing nicknames lately. Well, it's a twofold thing. First off, it's a place to conveniently post short snippets of poetry and see the effects it has on people. Next, it's reflective of my mood, albeit only very slightly. And a third hidden reason is to see if people actually answer questions posted in nicknames, or if it's only me who does it. Lolz.

Lost Child

Little boy
Sitting on the pavement
As the folk walk past with blinding speed
Giving him nary a glance

Little boy
Starting to cry
But still no one sees him on the tarmac
All too busy with themselves

Little boy
Starting to smile
With the kind lady glowing at him gently
Offering her helping hand

I am that lost boy
I am that lonely boy
I am that crying boy
I am that smiling boy
I am that lost child

appreciate what you have

I don't think I appreciate these people well enough as they deserve. I know I know, this is personal, and it's not as if I haven't done this before, but it's more a continuation of my thoughts, and I thought it would be entertaining to write about people I appreciate rather than people I strongly dislike. Okay, here goes.

Paul Leow Pok Xian is a person I must say I do respect, and I do not use that word freely. It takes a whole lot to gain my respect, and many who think they deserve my respect do not have it. Pok does. If you notice, my blog has generous sprinkling of mentions of his name, and references to him. This is due, in great part, to the fact that I spend a lot of time either in his presence or with him, as there is really no one else with as many of the same classes as I do. Herein lies one of the reasons I salute him so. Few people are willing to spend so much time near me, even people I call friends whom I have known for a long time, and he puts up with a lot from me. Hell, even I would give up on me. He on the other hand, endures many hours of rambling, random bossy-ness, and stupid random topics like masturbation and conspiracy theories. He also is willing to eat lunch with me, even when he has better and closer friends to do that with now. My thanks and hats off to you, Pok. It's amazing, because no matter how he does for his subjects, he trudges along with this sort of determination that kinda inspires you. And I suppose that I truly respect his ability to keep himself to himself. He has this skill that I wish I had; not speaking all the fucked up things about your life to other people. Pok, if I were a girl, I'd marry you, lolz. Well, maybe not marry you, but probably fall for you, or give you a smooch or something. But since I'm not, I won't, lolz.

I admire Evans really, he's sorta a really amazing guy. He has this really seriously wierd series of problems, in a way, but they're also not all that wierd. He's from a Chinese school background, so his English is not all that well cut out. Yet, he's honest enough to admit that, and willingly picks up new words from people around him. Yes, even if it would make him look stupid. He will more than willingly pick up friends, were they to ask him nicely for transport, even though I know he's really a bit annoyed, he'll do it regardless. Amazing. And he's no academic, though his maths skills are very good. Still, he keeps at it. He's a persistant guy when it comes to relationships, too. He'll make sacrifices for the girl he wants, however unreasonable it may actually be. He once stayed up the whole night to entertain this girl's friends from across the state, just so she could get some sleep. And he didn't go to bed, but took them instead to basketball so that they would get the most out of their time, and so that she could stay sleeping. And ladies, this guy can bake. Actually, make food, to be more accurate. This guy makes a mean cheesecake.

I'd write more, but I'm tired. So tired that I think I will stop right here and not do the poem. Right here. Meh.

pointlessness...

Sometimes, I don't think it's worth my time writing here anymore. No one seems to read the stuff here, and the only reason I write here is to entertain you people. No one cares to read, no one cares to leave comments, no one cares to write their own. Yeah, I know, selfish me, not everyone can waste so much time updating, blah blah blah. Meh. Maybe I should not even go online anymore, no one cares enough to even talk to me online, and even less in real life. Maybe I should be a recluse. Anyways, since I'm already writing, I might as well do some attempt at entertainment.

Is it just me, or do all my classes seem to be able to piss all the teachers off at least once in the year? All my classes have been like that since Standard 2. Amazing. All the teachers have thrown a fit at the class at least once each year, and it's always my class. Strange. Anyone else has that dilemma?

Since I was talking about blogging earlier, I really wonder, how often do you people update on average? I seem to have a really high average, like 0.8 a day, or something. That translates to about 6 posts a week. Most people I know consider it an achievement to post a short sentence each week. Long updates happen once in a blue moon, if there is one. Maybe I should just drop the average.

My social life has taken a dive. I haven't done anything sociable for the past 2 or 3 months. Okay, not entirely true, I have been out for yum char sessions, but those don't count, cuz for one thing it wasn't really enjoyable as to have heart to heart talks and whatnot. And I haven't been to the movies in about the same amount of time. Lifeless, really. How about you guys? How's your social lives?

Errgh. Nothing really interesting written this time. And I have run out of inspiration. And a life. Maybe I really should have done what I wanted to do earlier. Retreat into a hermetic shell, paint a fake face as the entrance to the cave, so people will think I'm still outside, lolz. It wouldn't make a difference, really, because no one seems to care, or have the time to care, anyways. Mehness.

Nobody Cares

I could have told you
That I'm alone
In this fucked up world

I could have shown you
That no one's there
No one gives a damn

It's just plain to see
That there's only me
Why should I care
If anybody's there
There's no point waiting
My patience dissapating
Pointless hope
I should just stay in my room to mope

I should have said this
That it's pointlessness
For me to be

I should have done this
Left myself alone
Sleeping in my room

It's loneliness
And joylessness
If there's nothing left to see
Now then, what of me
In the end nobody's there
Because nobody cares

absolutely delightful

Today, I was thinking of giving a review of my life at ICPU. Then I remembered, this blog is not to post personal stuff. That's for my other journal. So here, I decided to do a quick review of places to eat around Taylors, not that I'm any authority, of course...

Lim Mee Yoke, or more frequently just refered to as Mee Yoke by Taylorians, Intians, and Metro's and the general populace. Quite a simple coffee shop, like any you would find around Malaysia. Nothing really remarkable, not that sparkling clean either, or visually appealing for that matter. Rather, it is a cheap and convenient place to eat lunch. The choices range from the regular noodle-soups, to chap fan. And the ever present chicken rice. Of all the stuff to eat here, I must say the most value for money would be the wantan mee. A medium sized serve will feed you quite well, and a large will stuff you. From 3.00 a small, 3.20 a medium, and 3.50 a large, the noodles are quite economical. Add another .50 for a curry chicken version. Excellent. Notable also is the convenience of the chap fan, meaning it's easy to choose the size of the serve. One problem is the lack of variety of meat dishes, as well as the rather arbitrary pricing system. However, it is all in good taste, if you don't expect much. A word of warning: the chicken rice is crap. This afternoon, the vendor had to even go up table to table to solicit for business. It's that bad. The drinks are mediocre but sufficient at best.

Asia Cafe is just next to Mee Yoke. The brainchild of a Malaysian couple in America, it is sort of a food court showcasing Malaysian food, really. Nothing really spectacular, having a wide range of everything from Chinese (lots of it), Malay (a bit), Italian, Korean and other stuff. I noticed the conspicious absence of Indian food, but there are so many mamaks (more on that later) around it really isn't necessary. The drinks are nothing remarkable, except that you can supersize them for a supersized price. There apparently is a sort of clubhouse-pub thing on the top floor of this two story construct, offering pool and foosball, but I never ventured up there. Really not my kind of thing.

The mamaks around here are plentiful, with all offering a similar range of spiced and rather pricey Muslim-Indian cuisine. From the all present roti kosong to the nasi briani, and also the teh ais. Normal stuff abound, but the pockets burn hotter than the food itself. Other than that, it is a reasonable deal if you don't over order, and watch the stuff you get. Otherwise, you'd be better off sticking to the cafeteria.

The Taylor's cafeteria is really not somewhere you want to eat everyday. The food is most definitely far from outstanding, though it does fill. There is an obvious lack of variety and temperature in the offerings. In fact, I find that the only thing worth buying there are the soft drinks, which are not cheap, by the way. Other than that, it is a nice place to sit down and chat or finish overdue assignments. And hold photography comittee meetings that never end up being what I plan them to be.

The best place to eat is still in the classroom, as many students will attest. Pack a lunch, or buy one from the many locales highlighted above. Take a sit in the quiet and air-conditioned rooms, providing they are unguarded by highly strung lecturers. Take your own sweet time to munch away, just make sure you're considerate enough not to leave messy droppings. And leave something for the lecturer. You'll be better off for that.

Hope you liked that littel review, incomplete though it was. Personally, if you really have the money to spend, then go to Burger King or McD's. If you have the money, you should actually get a caterer. That would save a lot of time. Really. So if you have the time to spare, try out some of the places I mentioned, and see if you agree.

Feeding the Body, Nourishing the Soul

Food,
Feeding the body,
When you're hungry,
And starving from lack,
Of glucose laden blood,
We take a bite and are fine.

Food,
Nourishing the soul,
When we are down,
It takes the mind away,
And releases it on,
A sugar high above the clouds.

Food,
So important,
It's all we think of,
From dawn to dusk,
Everything revolves around it,
Especially if you're Malaysian.

absurdity...

Okay, my sister asked me to write a story ending with, finally he understood, so I did. It was a very random story that meant nothing at first. But now I can see the symbolism inside. Hmm, I was thinking that maybe it's not me who can write after all, but I'm just the medium for a divine hand to write through. Anyways, I want y'all to read it and tell me if you know what it's about.

Absurdity

Nathaniel had finally hit 18. His parents had both died in a tragic zoo accident involving an elephant and sugar cane while the boy was still a babbling toddler. Ever since then, he lived off the estate left by his writer father and heiress mother with his slightly demented grandfather. His father’s father had suffered 2 strokes and a persecution by the Nazis in his time, and it was no surprise that the old man had a little trouble keeping grasp of reality. Nonetheless, he did a good job parenting the young Nathaniel.

Each morning, old man Frank would tell the handsome young Nathaniel, “seven doors down, two houses off, nine stories up.” And always, a bewildered look would cross Nathaniel’s face. Most of the time, he would just shrug it off, and go about whatever it was that he was going to do. After all, that demented old man was probably just rambling anyway, what with all his laughing to himself.

However, one morning, his grandfather was not there to spout his incomprehensible gibberish. Instead, the old man was sitting on the porch smoking a pipe. The old man seemed to have his faculties with him, most unlike other mornings. He handed a folded slip of paper to Nathaniel, stood up, and walked right out the door. He walked and walked and walked till he disappeared down the lane, towards the sea.

Nathaniel was puzzled, but not all that surprised. He went about his daily activities, and waited for his grandfather to return. One day passed, two days passed, three days. No sign of the old man. Finally, he decided the old man had probably thrown himself into the sea in a fit, and he opened the folded slip. On it were the words: seven doors down, two houses off, nine stories up. He never understood what that meant, even though he had heard it almost everyday of his life. He always assumed it was supposed to be some sort of direction to some treasure hidden by the Nazis towards the end of the war.

Nathaniel cleaned up the house of his grandfather’s personal effects, to pack away in a box, just in case he really was dead. In the process, he discovered among his grandfather’s documents a letter from his parents. Inside, there were the correspondence between his father and his grandfather, asking on advice on some matter he couldn’t see from the faded ink. It did mention the city of Paris, and the words: seven doors down, two houses off, nine stories up vaguely apparent on the crusty old letter. Curiosity stirred the blood of this young man, and he packed his belongings and set off for Paris.

In Paris, he followed the rough numbers on the letter to the seedy corners of the French city. As he walked through the rubbish strewn streets, old ladies poked their heads out the window, gave astonished looks, and quickly slammed down the shutters. Old men whispered behind his back, and young children ran as he came down the roads. All the while, he trudged on, wondering in his mind at all the weird behaviour going on around him through his entire life.

Finally he came to a small building. The door was partially open, and he walked in. An old androgenous person was sitting in a chair. He was greeted by an equally androgenous voice.

“Ah, finally. Young Nathaniel has made his way home…” The harsh voiced scraped across his ears like nails on a chalkboard. The figure stood up, and handed him a key. “Seven doors down, two houses off, nine stories up,” it said, and walked out the open door behind Nathaniel.

The stunned youth just stood rooted there for a second. He recovered quickly and dashed out the door. The figure was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, he looked at the key and decided to walk the streets. “Seven doors down, two houses off, nine stories up,” he kept repeating to himself.

Soon he came to a long warehouse with many doors. Seven doors down, he noticed there were two houses sitting across the river from the warehouse. He came to a bridge over the river, where he spotted the androgenous figure again. The harsh voice came out, “Good, good. You have made it thus far…” and it turned and walked off.

Not to be thrown off like the last time, Nathaniel ran after it, but again, it lost him. Frustrated, we walked to the two houses, which looked a lot like the warehouse he just passed back then. He came to the second one, which was only one story high. He was puzzled, like he always was. He sat down outside the door to think.

Suddenly he noticed a really tall glass building in the horizon. He ran towards it with the excitement of a bloodhound on the trail. He reached the large glass door, and put the key into the keyhole. It wouldn’t fit. He tried to smash the black glass door, but it wouldn’t give way. After half an hour of pointless fury, he walked round the back, to find an open door there. Smacking his forehead at his stupidity, he went in and ran up the staircase immediately inside.

Nine stories up, he came to a wide door made of metal. He could detect no sound from behind the door. He put the key into the keyhole and turned. He opened the door, to a thunderous applause. There were people sitting all around, clapping. In the middle of the well lit stage was his grandfather, with a big screen flashing the sign “This Is Your Life!” Standing next to him, were two very familiar faces.

Old man Frank’s voice boomed, “This is your life Nathaniel, a whole big reality show from the age of 3 to 18, every last minute of it. Your whole life was a stage play, open for the world to see. Your parents were even part of it all. Weren’t you?” The two people nodded their smiling faces.

As he screamed a primal howl, it suddenly came apparent to him how absurd his whole life had been. It hit him how the world always seemed very small, how he was always being watched, how it was always so unnatural. The scream was as unending as the thoughts that flooded his mind.

Somewhere in the real world, Neo awoke. Finally, he understood.

another survey

I seem to be addicted to attention. An attention seeking loser asshole, that's how I would describe myself right now. Anyway, to indulge myself, I decided to make up another survey, about myself. I want truthful answers, anyone found lying will be sentenced to a weeks ignoring by me. Muahahaha. Wait, that means I'll be isolated for a whole week. Oh well.

The rules: no rules, just answer 1 to 5 to the following questions, where 1 is disagree completely, and 5 is agree absolutely. Kinda like those cheesy surveys, but then again I'm quite a cheesy person. Here goes...

1. I am a cheesy person.

2. I am an arrogant asshole.

3. I can write well.

4. I am drop dead gorgeous.

5. I make other people's lives better.

6. I make other people's lives more interesting (not the same thing as no. 5)

7. I have talent in photography.

8. My manner of speaking is condescending.

9. I am very attention seeking.

10. I need a girlfriend.

11. I need a new look.

12. I should criticize myself more often.

13. I should bake more often.

14. I should get a car.

15. I must really stop asking stupid surveys like this.

There you go. Now, I expect full and honest answers from everyone. Don't give a fuck whether you'll hurt feelings or not. You can post annonymously. I want to know for real what people think about me. Now go.

Tell Me

Tell me
What you really think of me
Behind sweet smiles
You hide your deep hate

Tell me
What you really see in me
Behind approving glances
You hide evil glares

Tell me
What you really want of me
Behind generous gestures
You hide covetous hearts

Tell me
What you want me to be
Behind kind acceptance
You hide your ostracision

not about me...

Hmm. Can't seem to get rid of that extraneous post from yesterday. No matter. On to today...

Evans is really a lot deeper than he seems to be. Like for instance take yesterday. We went to yum char, although the original invitation from him was for Thursday. I agreed, especially after he said he was going to bring Ing Ling along. Those two seem to have a thing going on. Anyways, it turns out that 10.30 was too late for her to go out. So the both of us went to Sea Park to have tea. Actually, it was dinner for Evans and a Leng Chi Kang for me. Not too shabby. It even had those quail eggs that are really hard to find, lolz. Anyways, we talked about all the random things about the people that we know mutually, and about how much we missed school life and everything. As we got home, I began to get this really melancholic feeling, so we adjourned to the USJ 5 park to talk. Although it was initially me that had the world to say, but Evans began telling all those niggling problems in his life. Really. From his exterior, you wouldn't think he could be such a savage and selfish person, at least by actions. Not that that's bad, mind you. It's good, because he was the one who pointed out that he felt really really bad about it, but it was his nature, especially for someone placed with so many expectations, and everything, but not given the oppurtunity to express his own wants and needs. And how do you let the world know what you want if they won't listen? You have to take it yourself.

Personally, he and I are two really really different people, with almost nothing in common, except that we like to drink tea. I can understand and agree to practically everything he does and says, because I know what it's like, but I cannot myself practice such a life. I think I truly envy him, a lot. Like I envy everyone else. It's not healthy, but it's the way everyone is, isn't it? He has this brutal honesty that I thought I had, so clean and clearcut, without malice or deceit. If he hates something or someone, he makes it clear. When I asked him what everyone else thought of me, I was strangely relieved to get the reply. Apparently, everyone thought I was a stuck up asshole not worth half his crap. And I agreed. Absolutely. It was true as day, and how not to? His honesty was a breath of fresh air. So much better than what I'm used to hearing about how nice, or how it's not my fault or this and that. Why is it that we all can't be like him? Just speak our minds. Politics, I think, was the thing that fucked up our whole lives. While everyone hates everyone, they all put on a smile and pretend to like all the losers around them. True, there are some people that you really can't hate, but then there are also those other people that you totally despise and just put up with.

Two college friends pointed out how absolutely true the above can be. Now, I normally don't name people, but I'm sure Pok wouldn't care either way. In fact, he would probably chastise me on Monday about being so evil and whatnot, but this case bears special merit. Anyways, there's this guy Keith in my English 3U class. He's a fucking arrogant asshole, even more than me, apparently, but I don't see how that's possible. It seems that everyone hates him in one of his classes, I forget which. His manner of speaking is like that of a pretensious half-wit, what with his extremely fake accent, British in manner, apek-ish in execution. He has this propensity of behaving as if he has a crown on his head, where in reality it appears as if the crown was shoved up his rear. He will criticize to no end what everyone does, and tries to justify his arguments in the most absurd manner ever. He is so opiniated that even I can't fathom. When cornered, he just waves his hands in exasperation and says: whatever. He has the most annoying habit of throwing cynical glances at the person next to him whenever someone else is talking. And he's a fucking usurper that tries to wrest power away from the leader, by making condescending statements like: "I will sacrifice myself for the good of the team..." and other shit. And when given a 800 word esay to write on himself, he goes up and writes a 9 page thesis on how wonderfully good his English is, and a whole bunch of crap. I think possibly the worst trait that he has is that he likes to tell stupid jokes that aren't even in the remotest funny, and then laughing to himself. Especially when doing presentations. To be fair, maybe he's just unused to the city life, cuz he's from Malacca. And I don't suppose that I'm the best person to judge him, considering I am very very like him, so much so I get scared when I see this mirror everytime he says something. And the whole point of the description is, the class makes it no secret that they hate him. They gang up against him in his presentations, shooting him down like a crow-pie. They protect each other from his assaults. And yet, he is quite oblivious to all of it, or if he isn't, he's a fucking good actor. See the honesty?

Sigh, maybe this is the very reason this won't work. People will be too oblivious to it. Especially those self absorbed nits like Keith. And me, lolz. Seriously, I would rather people tell me how much they hate my guts and how much they want to run me over with a train. I hate all this deception where everyone tells me how much they admire me this admire me that, and secretly hope that I would drop dead. If you hate me, or anyone for that matter, I suggest that you tell them to their face. Or slap me really hard. Like, with a frying pan with nails jutting out the bottom. You get the idea.

Pok needs a girl. I made a bet with him, who will get a girlfriend first, and the stakes was a Starbucks coffee to the last bachelor. And an additional one every year past. Seriously, I think it will take a bit of work to win this one. He's such a fucking shy and secretive guy, it's hard to know what he's thinking. According to Adam, in Form 2, everyone was asking him what essay he wrote for the Chinese paper, but he kept it to himself for 2 fucking years! What the hell? And another wrench thrown in is the fact that he only likes to look, and not touch. Or talk. Or anything else. He only likes to ogle at girls, which I told him was very lame if he wasn't going to do anything about it. Gonna take some work. Must get Adam to throw some weight behind my plan, seeing as how the both of them and a Dominic are best friends. Guess I'll be talking a lot less to Pok now that Adam's in the ICPU, too.

Haven't seen Veevs or Kavs around for awhile. I heard Veevs has finally settled into the A levels. Finally. And Kavs I have no news of. I know nothing about Vic, or Ry, or anyone in the dance group, even though I see them every Monday, at least. Or Zhao for that matter. I did see Sin Hun and Alyna and Looi yesterday, but hardly long enough to find out anything of use. Seems that I'm losing touch with all my friends. Sigh, the circle begins again. Must shake this asshole-ic habit of making and losing all touch with friends with such regularity.

Tabloid Writer

The tabloid writer types away
Typing words meant to dismay
And although the words are hard to rationalise
They are really only meant to sensationalise

A bitter truth is what he reveals
But to the public is what it appeals
And knowing that his news will sell
He says, "Bah, they can all go to hell!"

i'm baaaaack

Hi all. Hmm. Back from a two week writing hiatus and no one seems to have missed my writing. Meh. Only my newest reader seems to have missed anything, and that person has only begun reading during my two week absence. Shame on you people.

Darien pointed something out. People only repsond to you when you write about them, not when you write about yourself. Hahaha. This blog is now gonna be a place of much writing about other people from now on. You people couldn't care to respond about me, so now I will savage everything and everyone! Muahahahaha! Then we'll see who cares!

The tone of this place is gonna change alot. I will still post poetry here, but my private journal will be the only place I write personal stuff on from now on. Here will be a public entertainment spot, and will have very little personal stuff, if at all. Mehness.

Shocked yet? No? Haha. Good. Saves more if it for the coming posts. Muahahaha!

Back From Beyond the Grave

The dead man rose
And looked around
And saw that no one cared
What was then his life
And now they'll care
When he comes back from death
And they will know
And they will bow
And all will cower
When he unleashes breath
A long wind stagnant
And they will feel his presence
Where they ignored it in life
What they will fear in death

why so ugly...

Yeesh. I just realised I looked like an oversized wreck of a person. Just killed my self-esteem for the remainder of the week. Probably will hide in my room and cry for the next 3 days. Those huge panes of glass in shop fronts tend to do that to you. But I like how the hair's coming though. But the rest, yech.

Hmm. When since should a guy be whining about all this anyway? And a guy like me too. It's all gone terribly wrong, and you know it, when someone like me turns like that. Must be the food. Or something in the water. Or it's hormones. Meh. Reproductive cycles disrupt so much, as much in males as in females. Researchers have just proven that guys also have monthly hormonal cycles that make mood changes, sometimes even more drastic than girls. The reason it remained undetected for so long is that the female gender happens to have a more obvious biological cycle to pinpoint their mood swings, whereas males do not. But it seems that males are even more subject to hormonal changes than females. And there's a lot more, but I can't remember. This might explain my wierd wierd moods. Or maybe not. Meh.

I seem to have a slightly more feminine mind than most of the guys I know. I don't know wether to be worried, or to take it as an asset in to catching a mate. Speaking of which, I seem to be a lot more sensitive to scents and flavours these past few days. Eeewe. Like a pregnant lady, lolz. Seriously, I don't have to overdose on sugar and salt to taste stuff. That's a tad bad when eating out. Everything tastes so extreme. Hmm.

Confusion

Left right
Day night
Baker's Delight
Because it rhymes without reason
It loads up on confusion
Like smells without source
Or workers without a boss
Perhaps rain without a cloud
Or a loser who is proud
A large perplexed bunch
Eating overflavoured lunch
Of tofu salads and plain water
Like calling your son your daughter
It's all a big illusion
Something we call confusion

survey by gender

I have nothing interesting to report today. So, I thought I might run a little survey, by the gender. Just to see opinions. Hmm.

1. Do girls like smart guys (not wise-guys, smart as in the capacity to process intelligence)?

2. Do guys like girls that are smarter than themselves?

3. In a guy, looks, brains, or wealth? You can only choose one.

4. In a girl, personality, social background or education level? You can only choose one.

5. In a girl, shorter or taller, or doesn't matter?

6. In a guy, shorter, taller, or doesn't matter?

7. Would you date an older girl?

8. Would you date a younger guy?

9. Do common interests play an important role in mate selection?

10. How much do horoscopes, birthdays, or names matter in mate selection?

Looking forward to some interesting replies from you people. If I don't get many, like my advice column, I think I might just go out and shoot myself out of boredom. Meh.

Answers

For every question
There is one
For every smart remark
There is one
And for every survey
Hopefully there is at least one

unimportance

Have you ever wondered how much weight you put onto the most unimportant things in your life? Like what to eat for lunch, or how you're gonna make it home in time for that soap opera. Or how the choice of soda you make today might influence your spending habits in future years. Or how what you say might make people think of you. Or how much your hurting yourself hurts other people. Or global warming. Or how McD's salads are actually disguised beef patties. Meh.

Sometimes, we should just sit back and render everything in our lives unimportant. Even our loved ones. Yes. Radical, no? But seriously, do that. Take that walk barefooted on burning tarmac, or a swim in hyper-chlorinated water. Or down that last 90% proof cocktail. On fire. Or do something crazy, but not likely to kill you. Like what I did on Sunday. Walking in the rain on a Sunday morning. Literally. We learn to let go of everything.

An interesting consequence of those actions is that the real importance of everything we have rushes back at us, at their true values. We realise how much other people mean to us, how much that tube of lipstick means to us, how much the remote control means to us, and how much we are worth to each and everyone of them. And we know that we are not truly alone even if we are.

The danger remains that you may not know when to stop letting everything go. Or even worse, not knowing when to pick them up again. I almost fell for that on Sunday. On Monday, I was on one of my most public meh-moods ever. I almost let everything go. Really. I was kinda like that in dance class too. Meh. And after a rather minimal dinner (much smaller than I eat now even), I sat down to write. A story. Not half done yet, but I think it might amount to something. It brings to the arrival of a thought. That nothing really matters, and yet, everything matters so much as well.

Ever given thought to how your actions are dictated by how you feel towards other people? Yeah, yeah cliched, but answer the question anyway. I thought so. We think we thought about other people, but more likely than not, we actually thought about what we wanted other people to think about us, rather than about the persons themselves. That's not a bad thing, but a tad hypocritical. And it means that we will miss doing something really meaningful very very often.

Many times I wanted to say something. Many times I gave in to that. And it so often was a mistake. After that, I decided that even if I had to say something, I wouldn't, more for the sake of people thinking stuff of me, rather than for the actual reason they would say anything about me at all. And I missed many many oppurtunities because I could not stand for what I believe in. Damn, it's a hard habit to break, but it is breaking nontheless. I still do those stupid shut-up-because-that's-all-I'm-good-for things, but I hopefully will be able to find a way out of it.

I have very little self worth right now. Very. It comes and goes, but this time my arrogance does not seem to help me override that niggling you're-nothing-but-crap feeling. Which leads to me contemplating today's whole unimportance issue. But then again, if bad things never happened, we would not have good things either. Nothing to compare it with. Hmm. More food for thought.

Shut up

Shut up, boy
That's what I used to hear
And one day
I decided it was worth to bear
And shut up I did
And said nary a word
Even if it was something I wanted
Or to insult a foolish turd
I wouldn't speak
I wouldn't talk
I wouldn't yell
Or scream or balk
Then one day
It came to light
I had to speak
To break a fight
But no not I
I wouldn't budge
I just shut up
Fearing I would be called sludge
I had to speak
Telling truth or having lied
It didn't matter I didn't talk
So I just shut up and died