pissed beyond all reason...

Just got my Creative TravelSound i300. Now, a new problem. My Zen won't be ready for another 2 weeks. This is fucked up. I am freaking pissed. One month is too long to ask for a simple replacing of the earphone jack. Are the people at the Creative service center all retarded!?!? Is it too much to ask to replace one fucking piece?!?! If it's gonna take so long, why can't they just fucking replace it?!?! I'm so gonna call them until they just give me another one.

Injusticeness. English paper today actually took me the full 2 hours that they gave. How is that possible? Well, I did do two essays instead of the normal one required. Only problem is that I think both suck real bad. Neither one makes sense at all. Fuck. Might not do English 4U after all. Heard the workload is insanely high, and annoying. I hate annoying. Being annoyed repeatedly today. I hate that.

I have two free days from tomorrow. Will spend them redoing my stuff, settling my accounts for this semester, closing all opened hatches. Will clear out whatever left in my head that needs cleaning. Like, recalibrating Physics engines, revving up, empty the horsepower on Friday morning, then blow out the Data mechanics later. Will have the weekend to pack Calculus into a box for dumping on Monday. Then I'll be done. No, it's not studying. It's cleaning house. So don't come tell me stupid things that are likely to make me blow your head off with monkey poo.

Ah. Fuck. It. All. To. Homo. Hell. Damn. It. All. Again. I. Hate. Being. Annoyed.

I should think of a way to destroy all stupid stuff. Stupid stuff annoy the hell out of me, and are only useful to laugh at AFTER the fact. Fuck that.

Jin out.

P.S. I've been trying for the past 30 minutes to post a link to somewhere really hilarious, but apparently the perfectly normal html has errors and won't post right. Fuck. This just builds, this annoyance.

once upon a time...

Once upon a time, there were two princesses named Amnesia Ann and Insomnia Ingrid. They were both fast friends, spanning the gap between the two kingdoms of Forgetful and Sleepless, who were constantly warring. The two princesses could see what the rest of the both kingdoms could not: they were both inexplicably intertwined. Well, actually it could be explained, except that Forgetful could never remember what it was, and Sleepless could not concentrate too hard on the issue. The princesses knew that, and they also knew that should the warring factions manage to kill each other, they would destroy the entire continent of In-My-Head, which both kingdoms were sitting nicely on. Anyways, the two princesses decided to start a lesbian relationship, adopt a child from a border couple of husband and wife from Forgetful and Insomnia respectively. Eventually this child would write the history of the two kingdoms from the telltale of both his mothers, but given his mixed parentage, the history recorded by him was less than reliable, hence this rather incomprehensible notes.

Anyways, my mind is so fractured that it came up with this senseless idea, and indeed these two kingdoms are fighting it out in my head as I write. Around me my world is crumbling, but I am not touched. The dust does not even settle on my shoulder. People are cracking up. Evans has only slept 6 hours altogether in the past 3 days, I haven't seen heads or tails of anyone else from old Seafield. But I know exam pressure has already cracked a few pots, and is in the process of destroying more pottery. Some friends are back, some are coming back soon. Haven't heard anything much from those who are back, hearing a lot from those yet to return. As is, ICPU finals is this week, many are also under high tension, no idea if some cables will hold up. It's me that seems to be the only stable structure around.

Wen pointed out that my structure is a hollow one. She is right. There is no refuting that my strength lies in my false outer shell of confidence. Again and again I put up the shield, people find me arrogant, they are right. It has sustained me ever since I knew, even though I thought I had discarded it long ago. Apparently it is a Shield-Boomerang. It will always come back to haunt me no matter how far I throw it. Useful, powerful it is. But it comes at a high soul-cost. I am the donut, she is the jelly filling. The pastry is tasteless without the cream, she gives me character, she makes me a reason to be chosen. She feels that she is arrogant for assuming that she could fill that void. I feel honored that she would care to do so. She said feeling of arrogance was reinforced by something she did at work today, but she didn't say what. I don't know, and I have no excuse for my lack of knowing. The boyfriend is supposed to know all these, that they may comfort their charges accordingly. More often than not, this particular one is the one that needs the comfort, that needs the protection, that needs the love. It is supposed to be a completion of both in each other, but here it's actually a parasitic relationship. He just feeds off her love, but has little else to return. Why does she keep him around?

Fate is consipiring to seperate them. In this case, he has an idea that Fate may be right. First, the distance. Next, the education. Next, the rules. Soon, it will be the heart that's tested. We are failing the first three. Will we make it through the fourth? He does not dare to answer. He shudders at the thought.

Suddenly Jin is filled with the desire to kill a certain cousin Jennifer for providing the wrong email address for a younger cousin Nicolas. Nonetheless, he met a rather random 32 year old instead. Very interesting. Tobacco blender who has lived in at least more than one place apparently. Wide range of interests, has ability to understand more than one language, and blogs too. Oh, looks nothing like my cousin. And also came from Taylor's. How cool is that?

Tomorrow is the English 3U paper. Jin has done nothing to get ready. He never does. He's a useless lazy moron, but a highly successful one at that. Maybe that's his appeal? Maybe it's his repulsion? No idea, it doesn't matter. It's a fact to be taken into consideration, nothing more, nothing less.

Seperation surrounds him. Semester is over, won't be seeing many many faces ever again. Some I won't miss, some I will. His past closely knit jacket of friends from a particular Cap Seafield yarn is unravelled. Even worse, the likelihood of seperation with Wen increases in his mind with every passing day, regardless of actual outcome. He no longer feels lonely. He has gotten used to that. He feels sadness, yes, but only because he knows it will hurt her when it comes, whether of this, or of other circumstances. He only hopes that the pain he causes her will never be intentional. He can no longer watch his every action, his mind and body are reducing, as his physical strength degrades. He does not know why.

Jin out.

trees blown down...

Something interesting happened today as we were going to Pyramid. See, the weather was really really like rain, but wind driven, but there wasn't any rain yet. Was sitting in the car, waiting for my dad to settle something with a workshop guy. Suddenly, we saw this whole bunch of guys running across the place, across the road running between SS19 and SS16. We looked out, this huge branch was lying across the road. The guys that ran out were pulling out this motorcycle. Some guy got hit by it, they pulled him out, probably broke something. He was quite blooded over, red blotches on his shirt, but apparently he was sound enough to be SMSing away as the guys pulled him to the clinic across the road. Too bad I didn't have my camera with me, if not that would have been a few hundred bucks worth of pictures, pulling the guy, the tree. News paper frontpage. Or something like that. Sighness. News really is profiting from people's misery. Anyways, it was that guy who hit a 'lot-tree'. Share the wealth, lolz.

Interesting, first time I saw my dad wear a black T-shirt today. Okay, I made him wear it. It was that black Body Glove shirt we bought for him for Christmas. First time he's wearing it. Ever. Speaking of black, and Body Glove, I so need to get new black shirts. The ones I have are getting old and hackneyed. Ah.

Finally found the Creative TravelSound i300 today. So long to search, all along it was sitting on a shelf. Fuckness. About 350. The TravelSound 200 is about 250. The thing is that they are both about the same quality all around, except i300 has 10 hours more playtime, and slightly better sound quality. Also, it looks better. Ah, is it worth the 100 buck difference? Don't know. Just need my Zen back. Sob.

Missing my baby. So short time seperation from her, and I miss her like this. If she does take that teaching post, I don't know how it's gonna be. Don't know if what we have will hold up. But I know I'll live. I really shouldn't think about it, but it's better that I do, then shock the system when it happens. If it happens. Which is likely. Anyways, this way, I won't be crying my eyes out. I'll probably be wandering about in a stunned condition for a few days after it hits, then I'll be fine. Sigh. I'm more worried about her. She's so fragile. Yeah, might have to officiate a breakup. 5 and a half years is a long time, who knows what may change during that time. It's not fair to either party to hold to an arrangement that is basically nonfunctioning except for the prohibitions. If the feelings do last, then there's always after then. Don't cry over this, baby. I know you have thought about it. It's better to think about it now, and ease out, then destroy it all of the sudden. Of course, by easing out I mean the mind. Prime it for this, but don't literally take it to happen. It's worked for me before, it might work for you. Seeing as to how we're both so random. Sigh. I'm such a jerk for posting this, but I don't know how else I can tell you.

Is there such a thing as happiness? Only absolute sadness can tell. Is there such a thing as joy? Only sorrow will answer. Is there such a thing as bliss? Only depression will reply. And how do I speak to these? Only time will tell.

I love you Wen, till the day that you say don't. Jin out.

short date...

One bad characteristic with all the recent dates I've been having with Evon is that they are all really really short. Like, they never last longer than 5 hours, and we part ways before dinner. Argh. Take today for example. Picked her up at 12.30, went back to Subang, dropped by my place to recharge phones, went for lunch, went back to my place to get the phones then went to the Summit. Stupid junk complex blacked out/power shorted. Whole cinema emptied of people, many loiterers outside the premises. Went down to the place where they have all those pianos, there was this fat guy playing a baby grand, and a skinny guy playing an electronic drum set. Evon dragged me to the back of the display, made me sit down. I played Canon in D, got a small crowd around me. I ignored them, was gazing at her. Got bored at the random waiting for the power to come back on, so we went to Pyramid. Got tickets, watched the show. Honestly, I was too distracted by Evon to pay much attention to the screen. Wow, never knew I could be so 'excited' by simple brushing of the arms. And her sweet lips, wow! Talk about major horniness. Had a tough time sitting still in my seat, lolz. After the movie, she stopped to get a pair of tiramisu pralines, one for me, one for her. Amazingness, those things. I just popped mine, orgasmic it was. Almost, err, caused a mess in my pants, lolz. Liquor in a soft chocolate casing. Wow.

Okay, over sexed by the day, short as it was. Good thing I dropped her off at Xavier hall, next to CHS. If not, I don't think I could trust myself around her for much longer. Damn, she's hot, she is. Many times I was tempted to do stuff rather unappropriate, but I love her enough to know what's what. Don't get upset, or annoyed, or wary, or anything, darling. Can't help but admit it. You turn me on, and that's a fact. Rest assured I won't do anything out of line, unless of course you initiate it, lolz.

I need to shop for clothes. It seems that I've grown very fond of Body Glove. Simple reason: they fit me, they look good on me, they are not priced like the exorbitant quiksilver line and most other lines, and they last long. Almost everything Evon has seen me in has been from Body Glove. And apparently I'm sexy. Logical deduction is that Body Glove products make me look sexy, lolz. Of course, it could be that I have sex appeal on my own, but I highly doubt that, lolz. Anyways, I like the designs, and although quite a cliched line to wear, it's good, it's nice, not overly punkish like Wild Channel, quite surfer (I like!) and the like. Hmm, my analysis of fashion could be described as either enlightened male, nOOb metrosexual, or basic feminine. Oh, my obsession with my hair also adds to that perception. Kim commented that I seem to be trying to reinvent myself into a hunky ladykiller, or something like that, I forget. Could be. No idea. No objective, really. I just like a change, and fitting into clothes way beyond my bounds a few months ago is a really strong incentive to try it out.

ICPU finals is next week, starting Tuesday. Have English on Tuesday, Data and Physics on Friday, Calculus on Monday after. Nope, not gonna 'study' for it. You should probably know, it's a worse insult to ask me to study than to accuse me of plagiarism. And you know how I feel about being accused as a plagiarist. All my work is distinctly mine, and to say that I copy anyone's work is degrading me to their level, although I have nothing much against people who copy my work. MUCH. Evon's been asking me to at least attempt to study, for the sake of doing something, lolz. I might, since it's her asking.

In case anyone's wondering, Evon IS Wen, lolz. Either that, or I'm in love with both.

Jin out.

helpless feeling...

I woke up from a nap just before dinner. Interesting dream during the nap. It was being with Wen in a dark place (can't be sure where), sitting on something (can't be sure what), smooching (very sure of that). Whispering a whole lot of sweet nothings, punctuated by full-mouthed kisses, tongue and all. Nothing besides that, although I do suspect a more intense turn was due just before I woke up. My lips were freaking dry when I woke up. Musta had my mouth open all throughout. And it was downstairs in the hall. That must have been weird for everyone else.

Blog surfing is fun. That is, if you don't use the Next Blog button in the upper right hand button. That gives you mostly boring blogs made by some bot program, or some spanish or german blog. Admittedly, sometimes blog surfing does unearth certain gems. However, the best possible way to blogsurf are to click on links on blogs, and hope to end up somewhere interesting. It also is a very good demonstration of the 6 degrees of seperation rule. Like, how every non-random blog is somehow inadvertantly connected to another. Or at least those that do matter.

Another interesting feature I discovered about popular blogs is that they feature dialogs, usually those with an inanely funny content. Sadly, I never remember conversations long enough to write them out. Sure, I could make one up, but it wouldn't be funny, or humurous, or even worth reading. Another reason why this blog is boring is because of the high word content, but the low interest content. Oh well. If my thoughts were that amusing to the random inbecile, I'd be really worried.

I'm not one to wear my butt on my sleeve. That's cuz your butt usually isn't detachable from your posterior. So firm is this connection that they are both used interchangably. It must, then, be a serious pain to be called an asshole. Imagine. You are not even an object/thing/matter. Rather, you are a lack of matter, as a hole is actually the lack of a certain material where it should be. This is sad on so many levels. The ass (gluteus maximus for those Latin-inclined) is a huge huge muscle. Assholes aren't even the muscle. They're the gap that seperates the pair that each person should have. Also, it should be noted that this hole is a portal for undesirable refuse. In this sense, you are so nonexistent that you are used to dump gunk through. Cool. Gay people, however, would digress over my perception of the significance of the asshole, as you can well imagine.

I need a change of style of writing. Something interesting. Something witty. Something that will make people mention my blog to me in person, rather than only online. That's kinda boring. It is very fulfilling to read that people actually care about it, but it's absolutely uplifting to hear people talking about it, because apparently people only bother to allow saliva to dry on topics of gossip/importance/mehness.

Wen is not feeling well. Something about being in the sun the whole day being a photographer. I am such a daft boyfriend sometimes, not knowing all the details, lolz. Anyways, seeing as how I'll be free during the holidays, and how CHS will be launching their sports center, I will most probably be gonna taking pictures for that, that is if I got all the details right.

Okay, ending this post now. Experimenting with short posts. Like, short. Really short. Really really really short. Mehness.

Rest well, my angel.

Jin out.

college photos...

I guess it's time to show you the groups I hang out with in college, considering how this blog was started there. It's also quite timely, seeing as how this is the close of the semester. I guess this will make it convenient for those who want copies of the photos. But the fucking annoying thing is the uploading of these pics. It's so slow, and I want to do many many photos. Ah. Annoyance.

It's quite funny how we never think of writing down our thoughts during the day when they occur, and yet want to write them down after they have long passed. Like take for instance my wanting to talk about this topic. It's come up in my mind over and over and over again, but I've never taken the effort to actually write it down and then rewrite it here legibly. As you can tell, I'm spewing all this as it happens in my head. Arghness. It's the randomness that makes this blog so annoying. Any yet, it's probably the reason why anyone reads it at all. Or perhaps, those that read it only do so because they know me, rather than like what I write here. Oh well. Matter what does it to a moron like me?

I kinda like taking photos. It's like painting a portrait, but faster, less messy, more accurate. Also, I think I look kinda sexy in black running around with a D70. Looks like one of those highly uptight modelling agency photographers. I tell you, some of them have to be bigger divas than the models themselves. It's a tough business, and you only make the dough once you get the rep. Otherwise, you get nuts. As in peanuts. Not insane. Although being broke might drive some people insane. Like me for example. Mehness.

I wish this blog were popular. But then again, I'm grateful it's not. It would be an incredible hassle to keep at that level. And also, I'd hate to have to conform to regular updates, not that THAT's an issue. I have readers from a wide enough band, so I guess I can't complain. Sure, it would be nice to be one of those bloggers commonly featured by news anchors or at least mentioned in the press, but I don't think I could handle that type of stardom. My ego is inflated quite easily. And popped just as easily too.

I notice one thing about popular bloggers. They tend to use mild smatterings of profanity, write very stinging personal thoughts, but all in a humourous light. Take Waiter Rant and kennysia.com for example. Interesting, no?

Ah, pictures, pictures. Here we go:

This is the group that drives me insane with having to plan with so often. I think the Photography Comittee has got to be one of the biggest aggravations of my entire college life, as of yet. Not so much the people, mind you (they're great, by the way). Rather, it's the things associated with us (a.k.a. photography, duh) that's aggravating. I'm sure you'd have noticed that the class picture affair was suitably annoying. Annyway, for those of you who don't know, that's me in black. It's gotta be one of the few pictures I look slightly good in, lolz.


Augustine's Period 1 Physics class has got to be the only class that has kept me so intimidated for so long. Mr Joy has this terrible habbit of acting like some insanely uptight asshole in the first 3 weeks to scare students into working for the rest of the semester, then lightening up afterwards. Honestly, that feller's a real comedian, cracks the most sarcastic jokes, I dare say even more sarcastic than mine. Randomness. If you want to know, he's the guy right at the back in the middle of the photo. Yeah, he's short, but his bark is worse than his bite. Yeah, he's Canadian.


Shalini Lydia Mascarenhas' Period 2 Data Management class. Okay, in this pic, I really look like the fat retard that I am. I'm so not going to wear white anymore. It accentuates the fact that I look like an overweight cruiser. The class is generally filled with morons and ne'er-do-wells but they're more accurately described as overtly sociable. And sometimes quite retarded, but that's unavoidable. Ms Shalini herself don't really do too well a job of controlling us, cuz she's really too nice a person to be a teacher. Still, she's very patient, considering I would have been screaming cold murder had I been in her place. She's the one on my left. Lotsa Asian Canadians teaching us. Hmm.


Karen Elizabeth Rothmel teaches English 3U in Period 3. Yeah, she's definitely Canadian. Generally, quite interesting class, my only problem being the overabundance of presentations required, and the long assignments that cause much lost sleep. Not that I lose much sleep without enjoying it, that is. She's quite a nice person overall, not very patient compared to Ms Shalini, but still very patient compared to me. Poetry buff, definitely.


Ms Foo Lei Hah's Period 5 Calculus. Very very very wonderful class, I must say. If there's one thing I'll remember about Taylor's, it's Ms Foo. She's a serious clown. Like, she does the silliest things imaginable. Yeah, extremely likable, acidically sarcastic, very sociable, can talk serious topics like food disease. I don't know how else to say it. You have to be in her class to actually understand why I enjoy it so much. Wen, want to know exactly what I'm talking about, talk to PokX, ask her about Ms Foo, lolz. I'm not good at descriptions. As you people can pretty much tell, she's the skinny one on the chair in the middle with the crossed arms. Very likable. And brings up random tricks like shortening your arm, too.

That's basically an average weekday for me, seeing those people. It's interesting, quite, aggravating, definitely, memorable, most likely, daily, duh, me, yeah. It's my life, which will soon be gone on Monday. Then, another semester awaits. Ah, such are the trials of the ICPU student.

An aside, ICPU prom is on June 9th. Anyone interested in going can inform me. Apparently, there's a lucky draw for 1000 in cold hard cash for one person. Niceness. They must be that desperate for people to come. Anyways, this post has proven longer than I like, lolz. I love you, Wen.

Jin out.

about relationships...

Just got back from another touching episode of Everwood. At least, that's what I think it's called. I don't usually watch it, just that it happened to be on TV when I was half-napping downstairs, so entertained my deranged mine. Anyways, it was about relationships of the male-female kind as well as that of a father-child kind. Which brings me back to the main reason I'm writing.

I can't say how happy I am for Wen on her sucessful interview. Yeah, when the interviewers remember your name, it usually is a sign you've passed, or at least come highly recommended. Like mentioned, really happy for her. However, I am a bit worried about one thing, which is probably quite irrelevant, and quite selfish, if you ask me. Yeah. Teaching training in UM will be around 5.5 years, that's what she tells me. And it starts in July. Sigh. As it is we don't see each other that much, and if she does get the offer and takes it up, I'll see even less of her. Hell, we could even be forced to seperate. That being the worst case scenario. Yeah, I'll probably be sad, but only for a short while. How can I be sad knowing she's doing something she wants to do (I think)? And besides, I'll probably only ever play a small miniscule part in her life, and it is not my place to stand in the way of the paving of the pathways of the rest of her life. What importance is a cobblestone in comparison to the road? If it's what you want, my sweetest, then go for it. If you decline on my consideration alone, you will break my heart, knowing that I was the stone that dissapeared in the road, causing the pothole that made you stumble. But if it's not what you want, then all the better, lolz. Nah, that's just selfish. I love you. You have my full support.

It's kinda strange how age should be a mitigating factor in a relationship. I have the tendency to believe that age plays little difference, as long as all biological requirements (a.k.a reproductive capacity) are met. I don't see what's so wrong with dating an older chick, or vice versa. As I know it, relationships are not built on the foundation of sex alone, which would be kinda sad, which would make us all baby machines, which is kinda redundant as a concept, cuz what would the babies be for? Likewise, I don't really see the issue of race or religion, if we take only the personal viewpoint into consideration. For example, if they are both fine with it, what's wrong? Sure, there's societal pressure, but fuck society. The thing about society is that at least 80% of perceived societal truths are fucking wrong. I don't see what's the deal with societal conformity. The idea is that it's to keep a greater good. My perception is that as long as it is no fucking relation to or has an effect on other people, then you're fine to do it. In that same manner, homosexual relationships are personal choice, just as long as you keep your hands of my pants. Seriously, society has gotten pretty screwed when they try to control your sexual activities. After all, they're not the one doing the fucking, and if it does not affect them at all, why the hell should they care?

Parent-child relationships are funny. Like take my pancake analogy. Children are like pancakes. You tend to burn the first one, and get better as you go along. Interestingly, the analogy also extends to the final point, where the youngest tends to be the smallest, since there's usually not enough batter. Biology is interesting. See, as you reach a certain age, somehow everything your parents seem to do is embarassing/annoying. This increases with age, up to a point. The same is true for other species. This is to ensure that the young leave the nest and start their own families, bringing the cycle back to vicious. Right now, I've reached the annoying stage, and embarassing is stalking me. Soon, I will leave the nest, find a mate, reproduce, grow old, then die. It's kinda sad to see your life in such a simplified manner, but that's really all it is.

This poem I wrote about a week before April 9th:

Say it to Me too...

I love you
each and every day
I miss you
in every possible way
I guess that
all I'm trying to say
I hope that
you someday may
say it to me too...

This is something I wrote in response to it this afternoon, and also sorta reflects my mood at the time:

Even Now

Even now together
I can't say we'll be forever
Looking at the sky at night
Knowing time's something I can't fight
Why must it always be so
To you my love prove and show
In the end I might probably die
When you finally kiss goodbye...

Ah, desktop scribbles. That's what insanely missing someone does, as well as a premonition for the message she eventually sent me. Sighness. I love you, Wen, till you finally ask me to stop. Until then, I love you. Know that you're the only one that can make it so, and the only one who can make me go. I love you, till that second you ask me, leave.

Jin out.

forgotten post...

Just deleted a really long post a did on Saturday. Was never really supposed to post it, wasn't right. Done in a moment of self doubt. Woulda caused a lot of trouble, too. Not sure how many people read it, but that don't matter. Whatever. Important thing is, it's gone. No trace of it left. Mwahaha!

This Blogshares thing is really intriguing. Quite fun. And it helps having a billion in virtual cash to play with. Gonna buy out Adam, and Dom and PokX, and I will own the company. Mwahaha. On the other hand, it's really the only game I'm playing these days anyways. Haven't played a decent game in months. I really need something to do...

Life is getting monotonous again. True enough, there are a few things to look forward to, namely holidays and weekends, and not forgetting the rare dates I have with Wen. It's kinda weird. My life has transisted from the constantly blackness of my depressed situations and the white reflections of being with Wen to an evenly grey tone all throughout. It's like though I'm happy to be with her, the shadow that used to cover my life has returned. The balance, in a way has finally come. An equilibrium of sorts. It's not entirely the best situation, but it's not the worst either. I guess you can't complain when your life is considerably more interesting and balanced that most others. Then again, we are all equal, some just more so than others.

Writer's block is becoming serious. I can't write much these days. And just when I want to launch a minor, partime, irrelevant career as a writer! Can hell be anymore worse than this!?!?! The worst things always happen to me!!!! Like, for instance, when I decided to wear black to college last week, the only things available was like, colors and whites! Like, how totally unfair is that? Like, why couldn't there be a black outfit ready? Like, total fashion disaster! Like, ewww.

Hmm, I CAN be ditz after all. Or bimbo. Or whatever. I personally prefer being a stoned-out surfer dude. Cuz, like, dude, they are seriously, like, radical. Like, tuh. And like, a surfer Macbeth. How totally cool is that? Like, dude. Speaking of which, I really hope to get through this week with no incidences, so everything runs it's course smoothly. Like, about 2 weeks to the prom. And seriously, it might turn out a fiasco. I seriously hope it wasn't a waste of money. Still. Mehness. I'm so going to get on next semester's student council, or at least make sure I know enough people on the council, and pull them together into putting on another prom. Cuz for one thing, I don't want all the major social events that I will be attending during my young adult life to totally suck, which it almost is becoming. So maybe I will arrange for one myself. Mwahaha. I like totally rock at organizing events, but I suck at organizing people, cuz I hate dealing with human aspects. People, as a species, are junk. We are at the technical bottom of the survivability chain. No other species was built so weak. Even our brains, which are the only reason for our continued survival, are devolving. A prime example would be this paragraph. See how the topic swings at random from beginning to end? Coolness.

Talking of which, sex drive. Libido. Horniness. The will to hump. It's random, but for the sake of writing something interesting here I will write about my sex drive. Yeah. Prepare for icky details. Like right, I have much to say. Anywayss, the explanation on why guys tend to be hornier than chicks is that we have about 20 times the testosterone level as you girls do. The horniest bitch can't compare her T levels with even the most dickless guy. Seriously. So is it any wonder why we think of sex constantly? Another point reason, biologically, is that males are actually more fragile than females, or at least not built so sturdily. Also, we tend to be quite destructive, especially to the self. This is due not in least to testosterone. The will to reproduce is strong enough to cause self-harm, even though we might attribute it to something else. Like, how the male mantis will continue humping away even without his head. The only reason why humans can't do that is that the loss of the head will cause a severe drop in blood pressure, which won't help the erection much, to say the least. Critics to this explanation might state that the loss of impulse from the brain to the penis might also be a contributing factor. Sorry, your explanation is invalid, because common sense tells us that we guys don't use our brains when fucking. True story.

Rapists are an interesting topic. Considering we leave the human aspect out of it, which is actually not entirely suitable in this case, but will lead to interesting scientific explanations to the topic, we will find that rapists do not actually have any higher a sex drive than other males. Rather, they all seem to have a defect in the part of the brain that determines our inhibitions. Either it's severely suppressed, or nonexistent. In other words, they tend to be very shy people, or very brash and violent people. That's not to say all shy people or all violent people are rapists. But it is a characteristic of those that are rapists. Speaking of rape, male rape is interesting. Technically, in order for a male to have any intercourse, he must be sexually aroused. However, being aroused is not necessarily a sign of consent. It's a grey area, male rape, but an interesting one at that.

Finally got my room cleaned after much talking. It's an African Safari/British India setting, if you can tell.

Anyways, I took away the crates sitting precariously on the high shelf (woohoo, Esprit bottles!),

and cleaned out the little cubby hole of a cupboard.

Rearranged some stuff, now the place looks very clean, certainly very thematic, and quite spartan, strangely. Especially considering the theme of the room. Yeah, it looks kinda like a prison, with this lighting. Anyways, it's kinda cool, with many trinkets here and there. But it's gonna be hell to clean up, what with all the dust collecting surfaces. Next time I do a modern/minimalist/artsy setting. Getting the photos here is hell. Why can't things be simpler? It's kinda hell having a 6MP camera sometimes. Photobucket takes so long to load it all.

It's kinda weird. My mom just told me not to spend hours blogging. Right. I never spend hours blogging. I only ever spend like 30 minutes blogging. It's the finding the things to write about that takes longer. Like, you know how you have so much to say about everything, but when you finally sit down and think about it, there's suddenly nothing to say. In my case, it's mostly because my brain thinks faster than I can type, and not by a factor of only two or three times, it's more like a factor of a few hundred. Sometimes it clocks to a few thousand. So, I'd usually have forgotten what it was I wanted to write before my finger touches the keyboard. And all those are my more interesting thoughts. So if you think what is written here is interesting, think again. Maybe that's what I should do. That way I have more chances of catching repeat thoughts. Mehness.

Sigh. Everyone in the house is starting to feel sick. Except me. Getting worrying, not least because it's gonna mean I gotta take care of everyone, and I'm really bad at that. Sigh. Speaking of health, I noticed my mass, or at least the shape of it, is changing drastically. The doggy bracelet/tag was quite tight when Wen first put it on. Now, it's loose enough to unclasp itself. I don't know if I'm losing weight, or if the body's rearranging itself. I hope it's the latter, cuz the drastic drop of weight is really bad. Might be intestinal worms. Not to mention I might die if it continues much longer. And we know how tragic my death will be. Yeah. The whole world will come to a grinding halt and all the world's greats will come to mourn my untimely passing. Either that, or nobody would notice the rotting corpse on the street, and no one would notice that I've gone missing. Coolness. Anyways, my direct concern is with the health condition of the family. Cuz if everyone gets sick, then it's gonna complicate my life further. And we all know I hate being confused.

My writing tends to be very long when I have writer's block. And it's quite random. I should do topical posts. That way, at least people would bother reading them. Like, no one really cares now. They just skim through. Okay, so I'm opening this up to you people, if you've read this far that is. Give me topics you would like me to write about. If they are interesting enough, and if I know enough to write about them, expect me to write about them soon, and I will duly note the contributor of the idea. Sound good? Wonderful.

I miss Wen. Sighness. Jin out.

P.S. I just fucking noticed how skinny I am! As in seriously skinny. Like, okay, not skinny in definition, but skinny in comparison. Not good.

P.P.S. Lame of me. Very lame. Forgot to mention a very happy birthday to really good friend Kim. Sure bet you're happy with your birthday present, though it came early. Not the keychain, the other one, lolz. Anyways, sorry I couldn't make that international SMS, cuz my finances are a bit strapped at moment, and my parents are seriously gonna screw me with the bill, even though I pay for it. Happy birthday again!

rise...

*hoo-haa-hoo-haa. Rise, Lord Stupidity. Yes, Master. Haha, insanity. That movie was nice, if only for the battle scenes. The dialog was artificial, the acting wooden, the fighting fake, only the setting pieces and the special effects for the battle scenes. Still, was worth that money so I could see Wen. The lame me never seems to have the money to pay for her share. I'm not gonna make a good mate.

It's decided. I can look physically sexy, but only in black. Or in white framed with black. All other shades and colors make me look like the fat moron I am. But black covers my defects, and for that short time, people will tell me very yao yeng. Need to reshape the thighs, the arms, the belly, the butt and the chest. Reduce fat percentage to 10%, double whatever muscle mass I have. Must remove all trace of scarring. Then need to keep the hair in a consistant shape and style. Then I will have a physical identity that I would like people to associate with my personality.

I want to get a set of protable speakers to go with my Zen. If it comes back from repair anytime soon, that is. Specifically, I want a Creative TravelSound i300. 4 AAA sized batteries power this baby, giving good quality audio designed for use with the Zen. Sharing music, on the go! And I heard it's small too. Quite nice. Excellent for picnics, or annoying neighbours.

Getting tired. Had a long day. Love you people. Jin out.

yeesh...

Damn. I've doing some blogsurfing, and I can say for sure that my blog has gotta be one of the most pointless and boring. Damnation. Not to mention, rather bleak. If you try to prove me wrong by pointing at my visit counter, I'd like to say that at least two thirds of that are actually my own. Sadness.

Kinda daft trying to write to fit the general profile of blog readers. I should actually try to appeal to my own target audience. Does anyone out there consider themselves to be target audience? Shitness. I don't even know who I'm writing for. Kinda weird. But I do know one major turnoff for this blog: the really really long and boring entries. And mentioning of these facts. Really should stop blogging.

But then again, I never have anything outstandingly interesting to write about. Like, I don't get fantastical period cramps to talk about, cuz for one thing, I don't get them period. Lolz. Also, I don't seem to great at the creative department either, so I can't write amazingly absurd and absurdly amazing stuff like PokX does. It's even sadder that I can't get my own thoughts down. Maybe it's also the general depressed mood of this thing. Maybe it is. No idea. Should the mood change? Or should I write more interesting pieces and keep the mood? No idea. Maybe post more pictures. Yeah, that would make sense. Mehness.

Okay, here's the top 10 things that guys should NOT do on a date. Especially a first date.

1. Talk endlessly on yourself.
From what I hear, girls hate it when the guy is incessantly obnoxious, which kinda amuses me, seeing as to how almost all guys are incessantly obnoxious.

2. Ask endlessly about her.
On the other end of the spectrum, I also strongly suspect that girls hate guys who have nothing to say about themselves and are only interested in prying into their lives.

3. Pick your nose.
Now, that is just disgusting. Honestly. Maybe if you were playing with yourself (ahem, ahem), it wouldn't be so bad. Or cleaning your nails. But don't ever play with any orifice of your own. Or any other orifice, for that matter.

4. Forget to pick up the check.
I know I'm gonna get some dissent for this one, something to do with gender equality and whatnot, but the guy should show some ability to be a useful mate by picking up the check. At least once in awhile. Something that I myself have not been doing too often, sadly.

5. Go into the ladies looking for her after waiting for eons.
It's an accepted fact that ladies will take forever to use the ladies' room. Don't, at any circumstance, even life or death, attempt to go into the ladies room, unless of course you're the janitor. Even then, you have to wait until there's no one in the place. Failing to remember this will only result in you losing all chance of getting laid. Unless that's why you're going in. And only if you were 'invited'. Still, do try to avoid it.

6. Pay full attention to what she's saying.
Yes. You read that right. Never ever pay full attention to what she's saying. The usual effect of that is the lost of conciousness, which is a bigger faux pas than not being able to continue the conversation. A usefull technique is to pay only partial attention, enough to be able to make 'intelligent' conversation. Also take careful note of subject changes. (Wen is so gonna kill me for this one...)

7. Make googley eyes at other passing chicks.
That's just disrespectful. If another chick does catch your eyes, the least you could do is end the date early, then go fishing. Lolz. But don't ever become so stoned by another chick that you forget to pay attention to your date. Even if your date IS butt-ugly. Yeah.

8. Act annoying.
This is fine if you're in a steady relationship. To a point, that is. But on a first date, you'll come across as immature. And that's just weak, especially if your final goal is to procreate. So, don't act annoying, or 'cute' on the first date. Shy is fine. But not annoying.

9. Make bodily contact.
The hands are fine. But don't touch anything else. It's considered harassment. Especially on a first date. Unless she initiates it. Otherwise, no touchie.

10. Take the playing-with-keys routine too seriously. Especially on a first date.
If you've watched Hitch, you'll know what I mean. Like, seriously. From personal experience, wait till the third date. That's usually when you know that the keys thing is serious, lolz.

That was rather random. Just something to write I suppose. Anyone else has any suggestions to add to this list? Mehness. Should really be concentrating right now. Got three final tests today. The last ones before the final exams. Coolness.

Gonna be watching a little *bee-ziung *slash-slash *hoo-har-hoo-har later. And some little green toad. Have the Force, we must.

Jin out.

P.S. Interesting. This blog has just been blocked by the Taylor's College ICT department for having vulgar content. Coolness.

writer's block...

I'm having a serious writer's block now. And Wen refusing to look at the screen while chatting is making me feel horrible. The funny thing is I don't know why she's doing that. Must be something I did. Sigh. I must have done something really terrible. Oh. Now she's looking. Great. Feel better now.

I don't know why it is, but there's really nothing much to write when I actually sit down to write about stuff that I muchly think about throughout the day. Okay, I'll try it this way. I'll write whatever comes to mind. First off, I found a bee in my sea coconut today. Grossness. Was about to put the spoon in my mouth too. Got a replacement. Okay, that place in Mamak Square behind the market may be cheap, but I highly doubt the hygiene in that place. And also, there's a huge bunch of monkeys in that place. Like, insanity. And cats. The cats are really bold, cuz they will come at you and actually place their furry little paws in your laps and give you that I-want-food look. Sorry, kitties, I don't have that soft a heart. Besides, you're dirty. Mehness.

Walking in the back alleys to Mamak Square is fascinating. It's a much better shortcut to the place than the road we used to go by. I tell you, SS15 is a veritable maze. The front roads are quite clearcut, but it's the back alleys that's really cool. They were amazingly well built, even in this ruined condition, they kinda remind me of those abandoned cities in those movies. And they're really really maze like. So cool. But easy to get lost. And rather dangerous too. Place is full of illegal structures, so it's rather risky. Kinda like those doomsday settings, like after the great war, the remains of humanity scraped together and lived in the ruins. So cool. But tiring to walk. Meh.

Combat mode is great. All those morons that usually get in my way, they just step aside. I should keep this up. But it's fucking tiring. Gotta find a more efficient way of doing things. At least the lecturers don't seem vengeful. They take things well. Maybe cuz of the nature of their job. Oh well. I hate public relations. But it's the main reason for the existence of the line of work I'm pushing for: published arts. Mehness. It always comes back to bite me. Hope some things won't.

I almost cried during English today. In the middle of my presentation. It was on my poem Teardrops. It wasn't so much that everyone was mean to me, lolz, like that would make me feel like crying. Rather it was the subject matter. That poem, if you recall, was written during a terrible period of my life. Actually, it was only a week, but a week is a long time when you're my age. Lolz. Still, it made my voice quaver during the presentation, which it never does. When I sat down, I was shaking in my shoes. Apparently my face was very pale. No idea. But I really felt like crying. Maybe too many memories. Sigh.

Today is Wen's first day in Form 6. Apparently, it was a very plain day, so much so that she wrote a pair of poems. Amazingness. Lolz, not saying she can't write, oh she really can, but she don't do it often. Not that I've written much recently. Missing her so much. Be seeing her on Friday. Going to see Revenge of the Sith with a large bunch of people I don't know. And her. I think I should get her something special, seeing as how she was surrounded by the rather glittery world of MidValley (actually not that glittery, but way better than staying at home), and having very little part in it. So, I think I should make it a point to do something nice. Lolz. I love Wen. A lot. To an extent I don't fully understand. Like the way I don't really understand why I hate myself. Lolz.

Is it fair if I run a show that I do not like? I realise that everytime I try to take something I enjoy doing and am actually good at, it turns out horribly wrong. The problem with being 'brilliant' is that you tend to have many many ideas, most of which are retarded. So I've had about 20 plans on how to make money, almost 6 of which I've tried halfway and given up. Remember the wedding photography plan? Gagalted. And now I have an unnecessarily powerful camera. Sigh. Might as well make the most of it. I will be forced to take an insanely high amount of pictures from now on. Might see the camera as a permanent fixture on me. Like, on Friday, I'll bring it with me. I think I'll ask my dad for my own harddisk. Or maybe I could utilise the 2G for storage on my Zen.

Talking about my Zen, I miss it so much! Sent it to service last week Friday. Been struggling to survive without it. Feeling so, unmusical, without it. Sigh. I want it back, like now! Sigh. I really want it back. Maybe I should go buy another one. Argh! I want my Zen!

Don't know how much I've written so far. It's unlikely that this blog attracts much traffic. Most of the posts are quite meh. And I thought I was a good reader of human behaviour. Apparently not. Oh well. I don't think I'll ever get to this level. Whatever. I don't really care. The only time in my life I've ever felt popular was the most naive and conceited point in my life. And I can see how I was used. Oh well. I don't grudge for long, but I don't forget slights easily either.

I think this blog needs another survey soon. Maybe that would make it more interesting. I read somewhere that to make the public interested is to take their input seriously. People like to think they did something important to influence stuff. Mehness. We shall see what eville plan I have for taking over the minds of random people. It would help if some traffic could get diverted here in the first place. Crapness.

Black Sky

Black sky at night
Sunless expanse over my head
With many eyes winking above
And the great latern hanging above
Who hides her light as she chooses

Black sky at night
The canvas I paint my hopes on
That the white spots show
My hopes on despair anew
Giving point to the future

Black sky at night
The backdrop of our stage
Where she and I have our play
The story of our love
Even as the lights on them dim
That final kiss closes the scene

Black sky

Jin out.

my heart is slightly compressed...

I'm feeling very small right now, which in no way reflects my physical condition. Combat mode online, so I'm very straight to the point right now. I'll tell people what I think, how I feel, but most importantly, do things in a manner that will get things done. So I don't really give a fuck about what the hell everyone thinks. Well, I still do take note, but it's not likely to affect my judgement now. But that don't change the fact I'm feeling very insecure right now. Insecure about a few things.

For one thing, quite a few friends I know have fallen into romantic situations. I'm really happy for those who have gotten lucky and hit it off (if one thing, it's a whole lot less complaining and crying to hear, lolz), and for those that haven't you have me to talk to, if you should ever need so. All this makes the world more interesting, admittedly, but for one, it makes me even more unsure about my future. I'm sure, considering it's Wen I'm talking about here, that it will be a great one. But how will it end, if and when it does? It scares me sometimes to think about it, but even worse when I notice that I'm just so accepting about it and not worrying. But then again, I was never known to be a normal person, so I shouldn't expect normal reactions. But it is disruptive, especially so in combat mode.

Another worry came up. I don't know why, my mind worries when I have no reason to. It's quite strange, cuz there isn't the pinch of despair that usually accompanies it. Sigh. Exploring poetry written in December, PokX brings up a point about the poem that I never truly considered, and he probably don't realise it too. The poem Teardrops, I noticed that I had written it during a short week that I found that I could cry at will. It was a very tragic week, although nothing had really happened, it was a tragedy of brain chemistry. Very few times I feel so fucked up, only then was it worse than every other time since then. Or ever for that matter.

Hmm, I didn't notice a certain characteristic that Wen has. Won't say what it is, cuz she'll probably screw me one over if I did. But let's just say that it makes her a whole lot more interesting than she already is, which is hard for me to imagine, but it is. Must explore this unseen facet, maybe milk it for what it's worth, hmm...

Someone pointed out that Wen was right about one thing. I should feel so lucky that someone's there to love me for who I am. And darling, I do believe that. Very few people do that. Not even my own family loves me for who I am. They only do it because of what I am: a blood relative. If I look closely, I see that there is no way I'm being loved for me. So, yeah, you're one of the handful of people in the world that do, and the only one that does it so intensly. And baby, I love you too.

PokX said it was time for me to write some poetry. Won't do a soppy love poem this time. I think Wen is quite sick of that, lolz. Instead, I think I will write something else. Maybe. Mehness...

Back in a Long While

Books full of useless notes
Albums full of pictures
Envelopes full of love letters
Boxes full of junk

I've not been
Back in a long while
Don't know where anything is
It's kinda like that feeling
When you don't see the light of day
When you've only seen your ceiling

Eyes full of tears
Hands full of calluses
Heads full of memories
Pockets full of lint

I've not been
Back in a long while
Picking up bits here and there
It's kinda like the feeling
That when you never know your way
It's okay, cuz I know it's life's dealing

I loveth thee, my sweetest honey. Jin out.

nothing to write again...

I seem to be running out of topics to write about. Oh, about the previous post, don't take it too seriously, it was ramblings from the point of near-meltdown. Seem very prone to that these days. I think I'm starting to let my guard down. People seem to be taking that oppurtunity to screw me at that. Oh well. The hide's still thick, and it's gonna take a sharp stick to pierce it.

Hmm, I got the coaster decorated. Finally. It looks more like a mine now, all covered in dirt and shiny looking rocks. Lolz. But it does look like a mine. I'm thinking of calling it: Silver Minecart Mania! Wahahahaha! Okay. That was lameness, and so totally in character. Like, absolutely, dude. I like, found myself, like, talking like, a total, like, bimbo, like, the other day. Then it went absolutely radical, like totally surfer, like, dude. Like, amazing. Woah.

A heart congratulations to you-know-who-you-are and you-know-who-you-are's other half. Here's wishing you all the best, keep each other happy, do what you can with the time you have, I know it's not long, but time matter little if you mean well. The basis of a good relationship is to expect nothing, hope for the best, prepare for the worst, enjoy what you get, give what you have, live for the ride, and if and when you do, part on good terms, not in a shouting match. Packaging is always nice, but go for the produce it wraps. It's the inside we pay for, not the box. Like, I never knew anyone who bought a big screen TV and throw away the TV just to play with the box. Well, maybe SpongeBob does. Oh, and Patrick Starfish. God bless both of you.

I miss Wen. Saw her on Friday in Coffee Bean. Shouldn't have told her I was there, lolz. Making her lose sleep only. And she's really worked long hours at Papers. Still, like amazingness. She must be the best employee they ever had. They offered her a 50% stake in the company, I think it was, if she ever decides to work permanently with them. Wow. I want leh... But there's also Form 6. Whatever you pick, sweetest, you'll have my support. Just like you give me yours.

Finally starting on that thing I'm supposed to start after talking about it for eons. Like, weight lifting. I noticed I've been getting a lot weaker as well as skinnier lately. The latter is good, the former is not. So, bulking up again, with definition, no less, and increasing strength too. The lazy me still wants my fat ass on the chair typing away, while the I-know-better me wants me to life those dumbells. So I do both. Lolz. Satisfy both urges. Type with one hand with weights in the other. That should work.

Okay, need to make this a really short post. Like, I have many lines to memorize for Macbeth, and I only remember one: How now you secret, black and midnight hags, what is't you do? Lolz. Lameness. And that fucked up English poetry presentation. About a poem I wrote. Well, can't be that bad.

Wen is my beloved. Jin out.

i forgotten why i am...

I really am so screwed. I should die. How much would you people miss me if I were to dissapear from the face of this world entirely. I do not think you could honestly answer that question. I wish myself dead. I'm surprised I'm cracking with so little pressure. Must be the new self that I've become. Normally I wouldn't give a fuck, but now I seem to care so much. I care TOO much. I care where I shouldn't care at all. I want to break a wall, but I only break my hands.
Next semester I have decided that I do not want to do Photography, at least not as a leader. It's fine if I did a good job the first semester and screw the next cuz I'd be leaving. But I'm failing at my first attempt, and it's unlikely I will be trusted again. My integrity and dependibility are being tested here, put on the line, if you wish. Strange, considering I have neither. To have built such a good reputation only to lose it like this is tragic. I'll have to do some serious remedial work if I want to save this, but nothing if I don't. I'm a lazy fucker so I don't think I'm likely to. Besides, what use am I to the college? Sure, nice grades, but that's not the point. Nice grades only count if you are a well rounded person. And me, I'm just round. Fat, that is. And also, I pretty much suck at everything I try. Or my expectations are too high. Whatever. I'm not gonna put myself in these situations again for a long time. Like any lameass, I never learn my lesson.

I don't understand why she loves me. I have none of the redeeming qualities of a good mate. I'm lazy, I'm stupid, I'm arrogant, I'm relatively unattractive, I'm annoying. The list goes on. Oh, self centered too. Only an arrogant pisshole would write about himself just to attract attention to himself. I need a fetish to keep my mind focused, lolz. I'm pretty much going insane, and although me and Wen are both crazy, I don't think it's fair to ask her to love an insane moron. I'm a really bad mate, of any type. Classmate, schoolmate, soulmate, mate-mate. I am so stupidly fucked up at it. Sigh. Overcooked brains.

It's abnormal. I'm not a beautiful person. Not in any way. Not by looks, though I will no longer say I'm ugly, cuz that would make Wen really upset, nor by personality, though I would say I'm interesting. But I will say that I'm less presentable than like. It's a wonder anyone ever seems envious of me. People are never satisfied, true, and everyone has something above everyone else, that's also a given. But somehow, I do not see how my miniscule advantages over people can possibly make my position anymore envious than how I would envy a porn star with a footlong dick. Okay, a bit extreme a comparison. How about, anymore than I'd envy Micheal Jackson for his nice complexion.

Tell me, what do you see in me that's so beautiful that you cannot find in other people? Everyone has that something, but what is it that's mine? I'm not meant to find it, I know, but I defy my fate, I defy everything, and they all come back to rape me. I live contrary to my own advice, but according to my philosophies which I share with everyone. It's a contrarian life for someone built differently from the rest. Mentally I'm built in a seperate color scheme not involving visible light. Physically, I'm built to a rather abnormal specification, but to a normal appearance. If you don't understand, take a look at a recent previous post and you'll see what I mean. Death will claim me through a different way than most people.

I think Wen is making me go crazy. I miss her dearly, hearing her voice is both bliss and torture over the phone. I can hear her, but she's not really here. It's like eating chewing gum, you chew and chew and chew but you can't swallow. Stupidity.

I forgot the real reason I wanted to blog today. The intense rage and depression is gone. I think it was all in the email I wrote to Wen. Maybe I should do something interesting soon. Maybe go get a piercing of some sort somewhere. I can't be responsible for my lack of irresponsibility. I've always been unreliable, so I don't have to worry too much about dissapointing anyone severely. So there.

I love Evon. Jin out.

can you spell S.U.R.V.E.Y.?

Hmm, time for another survey. This time, it will be a numbers game. But first, I think you might like to note the new link in the side. It's another blog I decided to create, chronicling the life of a fictional 21 year old drug pusher. Not that I have any experience of that sort, mind you. Rather, it's like a confessional to him. It's kinda like a diary/novel of sorts. Might pitch this idea to some publications I'm trying to get work in. Oh well. I'm too lazy, I haven't even tried to do anything of the sort. And now on to the survey:

1. How old (young) are you right now?

2. How many hours has it last been since you last picked your nose?

3. How many times have you downed a vodka/brandy/gin/tequila/any-other-alcoholic-drink-above-20%-alcohol?

4. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had in your entire life?

5. How often do you swear in public (approx.)?

6. How many times have you been slapped?

7. How many piercings do you have?

8. How big is your shoe size?

9. How tall are you in feet?

10. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

11. How many times have you failed in a test/exam?

12. How much was the biggest personal expense did you ever make?

13. How much time do you spend in the shower on average?

14. How long do you spend on your hair in the morning?

15. How many different words can you think of that start with X in the next 10 seconds?

16. How many times have you been seen naked/partially undressed?

17. How many fingers do you have on the keyboard right now?

18. How many songs do you have on your computer right now?

19. How often do you sleep after 3 in the morning?

20 How likely are you to answer another quiz on this blog?

Jin out.

fucked up crapness...

Haven't felt this way for some time. So fucked up, confused, stressed, burned, flamed, raped, I don't know how else to describe it. Not entirely a bad thing, cuz I kinda missed the exhilirating burst of furious energy it gives. But after the rather long adrenaline wave (it only seems to happen for me), I feel so moody and depressed.

It kinda like started yesterday. I realised how fucking far behind I was in getting the class photos. That complicated things indefinitely for me. Another thing being that there was a severe lack of photographers with powerful cameras to take photos. And another being that I'm such a bad leader, but let's talk on my inadequacies later. So, we are doing this is in a fucking slipshod manner right now, but it will suffice, if I can add some offhand spice in the photos. IF I can, that is. I'm so doing things better next semester, that is if I still am in the Photography comittee. Fuck that all.

This morning, it was aggravated by my lack of access to fresh contact lenses. I have this new box of lenses, but for some reason I could not find them. Like, never throw away your old lenses unless you are sure there are fresh ones waiting. Which, apparently, I thought I did, and I'm probably right, just that they are waiting in the wrong place. Anyways, I spent a hell of a good time hunting around the house for them, and found not what I was looking for (like duh, cuz I couldn't see much), no thanks at all to anyone for trying to help, cuz they didn't! Like, what the fuck!? I don't care. Anyways, got a fresh pair from Sinar Kota during lunch, feels so much better now. Sigh. But that didn't take away the fucked up mood.

Strangeness, I got myself a Shandy today. I don't normally indulge, either. Waste of two bucks, that was. Impulse shopping is bad. Must remember to pay Wen for the pair of shirts later. Can't have her spending money on my clothes, especially since there's no reason for her to. Which also reminds me, I need to go clothes shopping soon. My wardrobe is filled with oversized clothes, like seriously. And most of them are almost new. Amazingly. Looking in the mirror in the optometrist while paying for the contacts, yeah, seriously, I look nothing like what I used to. Surprised anyone can recognise me. Well, okay, still very dorky and noobish, I'll give you that. And I still look retarded in specs, but what the hell, I'm not spending 300 bucks on something I'm not gonna wear!

Missing Wen so much. Hey, darling, we're joining PokX's table for the prom, k? I don't wanna end up on some table full of weirdos. Well, okay, we're both weird, but the point is let us be with other weirdos we know. Lolz. Adam and Pokx at the table, so you have some people to chat with, while I don't think I know anyone else there either, lolz. I love you, darling!

Hmm, what else can I say? Not much, no thoughts on anything. Oh, wait. I was thinking of starting another blog on some fictional character. Kinda like writing a story. Might even get it published. Hehe. I seem to be on a writer's craze these few weeks. Who knows? Might get it as part of a column! Mwahaha! Intriguing. Okay, that's all I have. Really. Seriously. No joking.

Wen is beloved of me! Jin out.

stupidity...

Reading the newspapers, I realised how truly vapid our world is. Absolutely unintelligble inbeciles run the world, while the intellectual elite are silenced. Either that, or perhaps they are the ones intelligent enough to know not to try to rule the world. It's kinda pointless and not fun trying to play games of brainwork with a bunch of nitwits. Like take for example Malaysian politics. Dolts run the place, I'm telling you. It's only the mental elites that gave up trying to correct them, for one reason it's not worth all that effort getting it running smoothly cuz the moment you turn your back they go do stupid things again. In today's news, this guy was arrested and charged for skipping NS because his family was so poor, he wanted to support them. And his stupid mother supported the move, saying it was good, because then it would teach other youths not to use poverty as an excuse for shirking national duty. Tell me, when since has subjecting yourself to the random whim of some ill-informed and mishappen miscreants that happen to wear cheesy suits and sit in some publicly funded air-conditioned offices constitutes doing national duty? And when since does anyone owe any nation that has taken more than it has given anything? Also, if you note the actual content of this 'national duty' thing, I do not think it's in our nation's interest to be investing so much time and manpower to such a pointless exercise. Discipline does not constitute making mindless lackeys/conscripts out of the thinking youth, at least not by the true definition of. I hate that word now, overused in the wrong context, as is the word study.

I think one thing that absolutely highlights the stupidity of this 'wonderful' nation of ours is the wonderful adaptibility of the people. They take to buzzwords like flies to carrion. I won't even go into how they do it, it makes me feeling like emitting my lunch from the orifice it came through. Ergh. There's very little originality in society in general, that is a given for people, but it seems even more extreme in illustration of this society. When someone uses a word in the news, or on TV or anywhere (note I don't use the word media here, since that's what's commonly used now), everyone uses it to death. That's kinda like fucking it to death. What's up with that? My biggest grudge is the overall lack of originality, not to say that this grudge in itself is anything original, but it is most definitely so in this vapidly moronic society. But then again, it is only us intelligentsia that have any interest in creating originality, while others steal the idea of being original from us and use it to death, whereby being original is no longer original. Vicious cycle it is perhaps, but that's the whole point. The elite are elite because they are like the common, but only in smaller numbers, and on the opposite side of the spectrum.

Wen just sent me an absolutely profound message, not that I haven't heard it before, but in the context in which it was said, it was absolutely profound. I present to you the aforementioned note, unabridged: "To love someone, you have to learn to love yourself first. Guess we're the reason for each other to love ourselves." As you might have noticed from reading these ramblings of a random sort, I do not really love myself. I may be narcissistic (thanks, Wen!), but I did not truly love myself. It was more like a cover for my absolute hatred of my own existence, for the past 17 years. Self absorbed, but not in the way I portrayed. Not sure if anyone else noticed. You know my reasons for hating myself now, but I don't think it was made clear those days. Sweetheart, if you had known me back then, you wouldn't give a fuck about me right now. That much I can say. In fact, I would dare say you would be downright disgusted with the person, regardless of the actual final product. I was. I sometimes still am. And I know many of my 'friends' still are. They know who they are, those who really were my friends, and those who were there to leech. I thank God that you did not know me then. I would probably be lying in some monsoon drain, rotting away by now, had it not been for you. Dramatic, maybe, but definitely possible.

Have you ever explored a person's soul? Or at least try to ride the waves of it? I can't stand to see a girl cry, or a guy cry for that matter. It's usually a reaction of instant regret, although I may not have caused it (but usually I am the cause). I'm a softy, heartless as I usually am. I am what is known as an empath. I can feel other people's emotions, but I usually have no reaction to them. It's a deep delving into both mind and soul, quite torturous sometimes, but it always leaves your own emotions very bland. Maybe that's why I never truly learned to taste life of my own. No pain is greater than your own, no love is deeper than your own, no dream is bleaker than your own, no life is brighter than your own, but yet it is always more extreme when viewed from afar.

One complaint I do get about this blog is that it uses complicated words. Like, a lot of them. And my overabundant use of figurative language annoys many people. I am not a simple person, as much as I am an open book to read. But if you want to read the book, you gotta learn the language. And illiterate people are asked not to approach the tome, because illiterates usually tear books up in frustration at all the dots and lines swimming at them. I hate people who annoy me. Or rather I hate people annoying me. Hate the sin, not the sinner, lolz.

Insanity of my life, I don't know what to do after this year ends. I have no aims, no goals, I am prepared to end my life at that point. I hate indecision. It's quite a waste of time and patience. I was thinking of doing a double major, like probably business with some technical course, but that's only as a safeguard. I feel like I really want to do something artistic. That's what the technically superior creators are drawn to. Hehe, syokness. Vivaldi's Four Seasons is playing in the background. Vanessa Mae is a fantastic violinist. Like I was saying, I am given to the world of technical superiority, but the dark artistic side lures me. I am a power in both, but not omnipotent in either. I am like a wandermage, with skills of all sorts mastered to a relatively high level, but each never a match to the greatest of their own right. I can sling my own defence, but I am helpless in the field of each master. Sigh. The real question is what should I do? My skills extend far, but the roots do not go deep enough to stay, but too deep to replant. Sighness.

I love my sweetheart. Longing for her touch, her voice, her smile, her cute cute giggle (kawaii!!), and her kiss. Hmm, really like that last one, like a lot. But I like being with her most of all. I love you, Wen. Jin out.

poisoned...

Hmm, wonder what you people will react to that title. But then again, I notice few people ever read the titles. Oh well. One thing to note is that Wen is using a template VERY similar to mine, lolz. Go see, she writes beautiful and meaningful poems when she tries. I love you, Wen.

I'm poisoned. Like severely. Badly so. It's so bad, I don't think I'll live out the year. Poisoned, verily so. It courses through my veins, pulses through my insignificant blood vessels, makes its way through my brain, destroying me even as I'm aware of it. Yup. Poisoned badly, and severely so, too. Poison of the incurable kind. It's treatable, but only by mineself. It makes me weak to write this, but the treatment is what keeps me going. Ergh, should be blacking out soon, but I have this innate will of countering all that oppose me. Haven't survived three near death situations for nothing, apparently.

This poison is known by many names, aptly called sloth, or sluggishness, or laziness. Yeah, I coulda saved you people the worry by saying I was lazy the first time, but I'm a dramatist, and a lazy one at that. It's this poison that keeps me from achieving a whoopass lots of stuff. Like my plan to lift some weights today was thwarted by the lure of the couch. My object of completing all the workload of the week so far was annuled by the attraction of the box. Crapness. Buff bod was an objective ever since some time last year, the only thing I've achieved towards that end was the removal of about 50% of the fat obscuring whatever definition I might already have. Still have another 50% to go, and a whole fuckload of chiselling to define the remaining. Yeah, don't need to do that, cuz someone loves me for me already, lolz, but I'm sure she won't mind, ehehe. Also, I need it for the speed I'm trying to build for action photography. You need to have faster reflexes than the subject. Right now, I'm sloth. Yeah, sloth is a temperament/sin/whatever, not only an animal. I'm sloth incarnate! Mwahaha! Oh, I've got homework to do too.

First time in my life, I woke up wanting a good smooch. Like, weirdness. But what I know I long for is her. Yeah. I miss her face, I miss her hands (so soft, very very nice to hold, lolz), I miss her laugh (kawaii! yeah, Japanese for cute), I miss her lips (woohoo!), but most of all I miss her. Sigh. Going insane. No car, and petrol prices just went up. Fuck it! I tell you, I can't stand to see other couples anymore. Before, it was a smirk, a silent laugh, then I continued doing what I was doing. Now, I feel such a melancholic jealosy seeing other couples. It's a sad sigh, a cold laugh, a grim smile. I look down to my left wrist, have a weak snigger to myself (honestly it is a snigger, no idea why), see that stainless steel bang, then I laugh inside. My hair is long enough to cover my eyes in a thin veil, kinda like the way anime characters' do. I find myself wearing blacks a lot more these days.

My mom said I look very skinny today. Ergh. The word skinny has never applied to me. Well, maybe around age 5 and below, but never after that. Maybe I'm regressing? Don't know. But skinny? Wow. She also said I look like some starved wretch, or something like that. I don't recall. I do recall, however, that I was grinning away to myself, and saying something like, not nearly skinny enough. Wow. Anorexic? Or hell bent on reshaping? Yeah, I know I get shot by people all over, in the dark and in the open. I wonder how many 'friends' have taken pot shots at my appearance over the years. Not that I don't do it myself, but I usually make them as fair as I can, also balancing my views with good aspects. Still, I would like to know what my friends secretly think of me. Arrogant is something I know already, I can see it in their eyes. Not that I give any reason for them to think otherwise. I may be blind, I may be foolish, I may be arrogant, but I'm not retarded. I may be heartless (most of the time), I may be souless, I may be lifeless, but I am not dead. Yet. Know that.

I wonder who my friends are sometimes. They seem to only be around when they want to leech off me. Not all of them, some I know are there for me. Likewise, I try to be that for all of them, even though it's harder for me to do that for some. But I feel that a few of them cease being my friends the moment I cease having anything to offer them. I don't really get upset by this, it's been a fact for me for a long time. I've had so many 'best friends' over the course of my life, I can't count anymore. Most have become so out of touch that I no longer acknowledge them, or them me, in public, or anywhere else. I suppose it shows that they were friendships out of circumstance, rather than an actual connection. I don't know. I know their names, I know their faces, I know who they are. But I don't know who I am anymore. Who I am in relation to them. Perhaps a nobody, who will become somebody the moment I become powerful/valuable/important. Then they will gloat to their other 'friends', that guy is my best friend! Yeah, right. Maybe this is another element to the poison?

My blood has been literally poisoned before. Like, bad. Really bad. Ever had a seven inch scar? I do. It will fade, eventually, but never completely. It will remain, in trace, as an unsightly reminder of the time I almost died. They say that when you get appendicitis, you have a few hours to about 2 days to get it removed before it ruptures. When it does rupture, you have about a few hours before septicimia (blood poisoning) inflamation of the inner abdominal tissue set in. When that happens, you die. That leaves you about, oh, 50+ hours to do something? I survived the rupture for two weeks without knowing, feeling only a vague ache, while I should be dead. Septicimia had indeed set in, it was a race to rehydrate and insane doses of antibiotics, which was difficult seeing how I was allergic to penincillin. A surgery that shoulda taken about 45 minutes took about 2 and a half hours. The surgeon couldn't find the remains of the appendix, so he had to call another doctor for a second opinion. They found it about 6 inches higher than where it should be. Yeah. Was admitted to the SJMC on my 14th birthday I think. I don't know how many times I've recounted this story, but as a medical anamoly, it's worth telling in it's own right. It's also a good testimonial to God's healing power. Somehow, I think the Man wanted me alive, seeing as to how He's preserved me for so long. I still wonder what I'm supposed to do before I can finally die in peace. Apparently it's not time yet. Damnation.

I've been rambling for quite some time, considering Evon's not likely to come online. I love her so much, it's really painful sometimes. And it's a big deal for heartless 'ol me. In fact, I was quite the frigid person back in highschool. Well, yeah arrogant too, but frigid. Always thought I'd die an old and bitter bachelor, except I was planning on living past 18. Wow. Such a change, and at such a young age. It worries me what I'll actually do when I start working. I hate that word, work. But I need the money associated with that word. Sigh. Back to the topic, Wen has become quite an obsession with me, but not as much as I would like. Wonder if I ever mentioned, her name is almost the same as my brother's. Lolz. Eu Wen and Ee Wen. Sometimes I wonder if it's a bit like fate. But then again, I don't belive in fate. Mehness.

Crying my eyes out is something I would like to do sometime this week. Just for the sake of. Haven't tried that in a long time. Tears don't come easy to me anymore, not like they used to when I had no life. Sigh. Oh well. It's been quite a long writing so far, I should stop and complete that stupid Data takehome test. 3% thingy. Fucked up. Mehness.

I love Evon, I love Ee Wen, I love my sweetheart! Jin out.

one month...

It's been a month since I actually belonged to someone. Wow. Something I never thought I'd say. I'm normally against the concept of being owned by anyone or anything, especially "big powerful government". Those morons assume that I'll bow to their lame-ass demands just because they sit in comfortable cars and chairs wearing cheesy suits and having their ugly mugs plastered all over cheap newsprint by saying dumbass things like, "don't raise prices, just absorb the fucking costs so that the economy won't spiral out of control..." Blah blah, it's obvious Pak Lah don't know much about anything, it's a wonder I ever had any respect for him. Yeah yeah, you people say respect him cuz he's the leader. Well, first off, he can go kiss my fat ass and polish it to a sheen first. He hasn't done very much as a leader. Come to think of it, neither has Mahathir. But at least Dr M had backbone, if he didn't have much brains. Pak Lah hasn't done anything. And don't get me started with Najib. Oh the fucking moron, along with Anuar Ibrahim and one other guy ruined an entire generation. They should be subjected to a public dissection without anaesthetics, while made to listen to the replays of all their speeches. That's worse than hell.

Damn. Wasted more than 200 words on those morons. Well, basically you can tell I have almost no respect for people who are politicians first and leaders second. Fuck them all. Actually, don't. We don't want them passing their worthless genes down. Mehness. Let us return to more pleasant thoughts.

Oh yes. My first month with Wen. She's probably the best thing that ever happened to me, as opposed to the worst thing that ever happened to me, which is being born, but that's not the issue. She's made me happy for the longest period of my life, ever. We don't see each other as much as I'd like, but I make it a point to make the most of what time we do spend together. Sure, gotten screwed by my parents a few times for extending that time beyond midnight, but it's well worth it, to see her face that much longer, to feel her hands in mine that much longer, to hear her breathing that much longer. Why do I love her? Honestly I don't know. It's that unknown quality about her that does it. Sure, her skills, personality, looks, they really do good at attracting me, but it's that one unnamable thing that seals the envelope. I love her, like really. If it were just the physical aspects, or the mental ones, then it would just be a like. I love her. Note the difference? They say there's nothing more attractive to a guy than a girl who's in love with him. Maybe. No idea. It's probably biological, or whatever. But I do know I love her. That's what counts, no?

The funny thing is that I'm gonna get a lot of "cute cute" comments for this post. Yeah, well, whatever. I know it's not me to do this. At least, not the old me. Well, I've said this many times, but I know some people are not used to the idea yet: I'm not who I used to be. I undergone some majorly drastic changes on account of myself, it's been an overall improvement according to most people, but that's mostly the physical aspect. Yeah, lolz, I know I'm a lot cuter than I used to be (syokness, I had an aunt say that if she was 18, she'd come and get me, lolz), the inside changed a lot too, more for the worse I think. But I say, this is like that S Club 7 song. I'd never had a dream come true, till the day I found Wen, and she found me. Thanks, PokX. Thanks for that random gesture that did the world a great favor by removing me from circulation, and won yourself two coffees, lolz. I love you, too, man! Thanks a load. But you still get only one coffee from me. The other one you claim from her.

Sigh, so happy. I really should be, lolz. Much to do, but once my skies clear, I'll fly away with her, and hopefully never have to return. Still, we will never know what happens till after it does. To speculate is to assume finality prematurely. I love you people for reading this, but after all's written, it remains to be seen what is done. So if you see me not doing what I said I will, remind me.

I adore my dearest Wen! Jin out.

worried, but should i?

Just got back from Darien's page. Insanity. Won't say what you should or should not do with your body, pal, but that's kinda gross looking at the inside of your knuckles. Do get that fixed, at least. Kinda disconcerting talking to someone playing with the jelly filling-lubricant in the knuckle joints. Gross. I was like blacking out. Ergh.

I'm tagged now. It's this stainless steel band and chain around my wrist, engraved, on the back surface with 09-04-05, and on the front with E2 WEN~'S. Lolz. Randomness. Guess that means no flirting for me, lolz. Sorry, girls, this, stud's taken, lolz. Actually looking in the mirror that just screams: so not the stud, lolz. But, somehow I DO notice that a few girls have implied, nonverbally, that they find me attractive. Either that or it is a serious case of syok sendiriness. At any rate, it's interesting to note, as a case study of perceptions, that is.

Insanity. That's what I think about the prices they charge at those fancy Chinese restaurants. Puny puny dishes, unappetizing, slow, poor service, and not to mention fucking retarded customer groups they let in there, make for a poor reason to charge anything more than cost price. Like, it was miniature, rather tasteless 'cuisine' that was served. It was junk. Not filling, it was slow. Mehness. In fact, only desert was good. And the smokers were terrible. Are they so fucking retarded to smoke in an aircondtioned restaurant? I don't personally have anything against smokers, only the habit itself. But it's fine if you do it in a corner, but not in a fucking airconditioned place, damn it! And there was this retardedly arrogant and unfriendly waitress who was slow, and unresponsive. I know it's hard working in the service industry, hell, my girl's working in it too, but it's a bit too much if you don't know that you need a plate to eat on. What the hell do you give cutlery for if you're not gonna give the plates? Meh-ish retardedness.

I don't know what else to say. Oh yeah! Tomorrow marks the first month with Wen! Wonderful month it has been, a lot less terrible than I anticipated, lolz. Got a lot of things that month, many material, some emotional and mental needs fulfilled, too. Like first kiss. Lolz. I'm so sad in a way, but really really happy at that. I love my Wen, praying for many more months ahead with you! I love you! *kis

Jin out.

nothing to say

It's strange how I never have anything to say, but so much to write. I'm a really bad person to see up close. I have terrible skin, I look quite fat and dumpy (which is augmented while wearing yellow, cuz then I look like a big yellow lemon), I'm loud and obnoxious, and I have very very bad habits, that will lead to appearing very crude and unrefined. To top that off, I am told I have a ver condescending tone, as well as coming across as arrogant. Wow. I am THAT fascinating.

Now the trick is, how the hell should I sell myself as a person? Yeah, I already have a girl (I love you, Wen!), but if I were to sell myself like I was a product, I'd have to show off all the good points, and if possible render the bad points irrelevant. The problem being now is that I have very few good traits, if at all, to sell, and many many many bad ones to cover, or render unimportant. Tricky tricky, but I need to do this if I'm to get a job.

Take a good view, and the bad points will pounce on you like a horny chihuahua on Viagra. Damn, those little buggers can go on and on and on. First off, like I said, I'm fat. Like seriously. That would imply very little care for myself, and also a distinct lazy streak. Not to mention physically incompetant. Not a good worker, for one thing, laziness. Another trait that's gonna really screw the sale is my unkempt appearance. I look like some sort of refuge camp inmate, quite often. And the dry hair just fucks it all up. My clothes are mostly passe, which states my taste as being fairly bad. Likewise, my hair's all lala, also a bad indicator of fashion sense. Poor skin condition, aggravated by genetics, fucks up the appearance category. My parents say I look like a leprosy victim. Ergh. Now to the mental defects. I'm arrogant, and condescending. Many people can vouch for that. Just ask around. I have no tact, very little smarts, less wisdom, no intelligence. All three states of mental perfection all fucked. How wonderful is that? Oh, my physical as well as mental coordination is all out. It's like I'm some retard or something. Oh oh, let's also not forget my absolute inability to be romantic. Which is amplified by my absolute lack of money with which to even attempt to remedy that. It's too bad this page is in a very very public domain populated by people who know me, if not I would talk about my sexual deficiencies too. Lolz, just pulling some legs there.

Now the positive part. *crickets in the background* Woaho. Nothing? Can't you people give me even one? No? You know what? I'm gonna lie face down on the floor now and cry. The truth hurts. It sears and burns us... Why doesss the fat hobbitssess hatessss usss? Ergh. Okay, okay, seriousness. I can bake. At least ONE person I know finds guys who can cook at all attractive. Also, apparently an ability to write poetry is attractive too. Too bad I don't actually know what my poems mean. Hmm, music? Well, I do play the piano, but it is hampered by my lack of physical coordination. A retard, that's what I am. My big fat body is useful for carrying stuff apparently. That seems to be a practical use for me. Not too bad. And also, I can carry heavy stuff to. Did I mention I can carry heavy things? Oh. I did. Crap. Now I have nothing left to say. *more crickets* Malaikat lalu. Or in other words, fat man passing through. Ah yes, got one more thing to say, I'm good at crapping even when there's nothing worth talking about. And it will sound sensible, unlike when I talk like I normally do. Hmm.

In comparison, I'd say I am deep within the red zone, red being a dangerous color, because it attracts attention and is therefore most likely to be a color used to indicate danger. Mwahaha! I suppose this is why females confuse me. At least one of their number can effectively find me attractive, and manage to seduce me (lusty lusty insaniac on the loose!), turning my world upside down, making me happy with myself for the first time in my life, making life worth living (at least meanwhile), and actually loving me for all that crap. Incredible. If it weren't such a good feeling, I'd have her locked up in some hospital for insanity, then bludgeon myself to death with a miniature sattelite dish just so that no other female could make that same mistake again. Mwahahaha! Sigh, this is what happens when you don't go to sleep before 10. Going insane. Wen's gonna kill me. I wish she would. Then she would be free from my evil influnce. Mehness.

I'm crying. For some reason, my eyes are tearing. Can't control it. Probably something wrong with my brain, not there wasn't any problems in the first place. Hmm, thinking of getting a piercing tomorrow. I wonder if a piercing in the nether regions would clear all this fog up. I wonder if they do it here at all. Maybe I should try one myself. Pray for me. Hope I don't botch up an ampallang, lolz. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, don't worry. I'm rambling on and on about something I don't have the guts (cuz I'm missing an appendix, lolz) to try. As it is, my lips burn for the touch of hers. Eew, Jin is being so disgusting... I can feel that emanate through your minds. Like, whateverrrr...

Hmm, it's strange. This post is still a lot shorter than what I normally write. I think it's about 1000 words long. Or rather, one thousand words short. Fuckness. This lack of seeing Wen is really driving me nuts. Damn it, I'm male, I'm young, and while I may be mentally different and retarded in every other way, I still have urges. Like urges to see her. Naked. You didn't see that. Argh. Sleep deprivation keeps my mind dead. It always was. I wonder how this post would look like after it goes through the editing department of the Star. Hmm. Mehness.

I love Wen! Jin out.

chibified class...

Was just looking through some of my old pictures, came across this collection. Our good friend Niena has an excellent hand in this. Fantastic. Just thought I'd post them so you can see what my class looks like chibified. I would have posted an actual picture of the class, except that we weren't all in it, and I looked like the absolute retard I used to look like. Hmm, actually, I am still a retard. Oh well. See if you can tell which is mine...

Jin out.

Proof sheet 4 

Proof sheet 3 

Proof sheet 2 

Proof sheet 1 

chain of events?

Well, some of you wanted to know how Wen and I met, right? I've repeated the story so many times that it's quite pointless doing it again. So I decided to write it out. Unlike grandfather stories, this one will not pull all the stops out, because I'm just too lazy to go into the mind-boggling detail. It still stuns me sometimes. Besides, I thought it would be good material as a sample of my work to show a newspaper publisher, and I really really want to get a writing job. I need the money, like seriously.

It’s amazing what a little chain of seemingly unrelated circumstance can do for you. You know how one choice can take you to another set of choices, which in their turn yield their own choices? Like take for instance my current, and to date, one and only (hopefully), girlfriend. It was a random chain of events that lead to my meeting her at all, which is probably quite interesting in itself.

I suppose it would be logical to start at the most critical point. About two years ago, I made it up that I would be going to this specific college. I was also more or less determined that I would enroll in this specific program. That was in Form 4. After the SPM, I made it a point to finally register. It happens that there was this guy who was in the same program. Well, like, duh, of course there’s another guy in the program. During the first English class, we were assigned into groups, and I wound up in the same group as this guy. Anyways, it turns out that he shared about three classes with me, and also had the same break time. And since we were both new to college, we basically had no friends, my reason being that all my friends were either in the National Service, or were waiting for the SPM results, or were in some other program, and his were about the same.

Anyways, it turns out that we were both in need of having lunch buddies, and sharing so many classes, it made perfect sense to hang out together. After much chatting, I discovered that he blogged (those not informed on what this is, what is WRONG with you?!?!?), and so did I. Eventually we decided to link each other’s pages, and it turns out that a specific friend of his found her way to my page.

She liked what she read, and added my to her MSN IM list (those of you who don’t know what this is, also need to have your updated-ness checked, like seriously). We chatted for about a few weeks. Then one day she said she was bored, and wanted to meet up for a movie or something. So I was like, yeah, that’s fine. So the day was arranged, and we met up in MidValley.

Went in to watch Hitch, and boy, was she right when she said she was tall. In fact, I only recall knowing a few girls as tall as she was. Yeah, I’m a good 6 feet tall, but it’s quite rare for me to see a 5’7” girl. And immediately, I felt she was kinda cute, too. After the movie, which she paid for (still much to my embarrassment), we went to grab in ice-cream at Baskin’ Robbins, a rum raisin for me and a mint chocolate chip for her, if I am not mistaken. Then we spent the next two to three hours walking around randomly around the shops. Then at around 7-ish, I had to catch a train home. As we parted, she told me she had a great time, and she was playing with her keys (any of you who had watched Hitch will know what it means). To this day, I have no idea whether or not she was serious, and still quite regretful I didn’t take advantage of it.

Anyways, about three weeks went by, with much random correspondence between me and her. One day, I received a message from her that was not meant for me, rather to a friend whose name was spelt almost like mine. Anyways, before I had a chance to read it, another message swiftly came telling me NOT to read the message, ignore it, whatever. And as human nature dictates, I went ahead and read it. What was in there really confused me, to say the least. Anyways, it was about a day after my 18th birthday, and I was too busy wit college assignments and whatnot to try to decipher it, but it left me with a very whacked out mood. Anyways, I slowly prodded for an answer, and it was delivered about two days after, if I remember correctly. I remember playing the piano at the time. The message came halfway through. I recall not being to play straight after that. That was the first time a girl ever told me she liked me. Really, I’m quite a sad, sad, person. So it came as a shocker. Quite.

On the 9th of April 2005, she asked me if I was willing to officially start a relationship with her. Three days into being 18, and already a present like this? Incredible. And to think I was dreading being 18. Anyways, I accepted (which is kinda like a stickling point with me, because I wanted to be the one to ask, but was too unsure to do anything, but I made that up by saying I would accept if she accepted mine.), and it’s been about a month so far. Wonderful, wonderful experience so far, quite unlike what I’ve tasted as yet. Not a bad way to start an adult life.

Taken this example, we can observe that a random and seemingly unrelated chain of events can lead up to this result. Also note that what appeared to be an error also caused a greater good than a calculated measure might have. Maybe it’s something to learn from: that not all mistakes are bad, and not all deliberate actions are good, discounting of course the notions of moral good and bad, but pertaining it towards the idea of achievement. If this part seems complicated to you, it’s because it is. Like, duh, no brainer? But if you really want to see how a random chain of events in your life link up, try doing something unconventional. Then just follow and note the chain that forms. Enjoy.

I love Evon! Jin out.