truth

Writing is not just a simple matter of piecing words together to make a relevant sentence. There's an art to it, and I do not have the heart to master it. Time does not wait for a man's procrastination, and I would want nothing less than to write something that I could truly be happy about.

These few days have been rough. Not rough as in oh-so-many-bad-things-are-happening rough, but nothing-is-really happening rough. Friends after friends after friends are leaving Kuala Lumpur for a nice vacation trip outside of Malaysia or simply just going back to their own hometown. Blogging has never been my forte, and my previous endeavors of writing a blog was chastised by so various friends who read it because of my inability to censor my posts or to just blatantly write what I feel like writing. However, with friends and acquaintances alike leaving Kuala Lumpur to have a better one a half months worth of semester break, I am back to this little sanctuary, this small hole that people come and go as they please, giggling or revolting as they read the words and things I have to say.

If I would have to summarize my holidays in Malaysia in these past two years with a word, then that would be dull. Just... Dull. Nothing will be happening. Time passes by like a breeze floating through air and chafing through the clouds. People would come and enter the premises of this small hole, yes, but they would not be welcomed by me; most of them are my mum's friends and acquaintances, people who take beauty and money as the key for happiness. My younger stepsisters will be starting their schools too, with the older one taking on new challenges in the form of entering (finally!) a secondary school.

Perhaps I am just dull. I have books I have not read, video games that I bought but had not finished playing yet and unopened DVDs that were making friends with dust and pieces of wood chips that my old cupboard would produce, and I have finished them all in a matter of days. Days of my holidays are now spent watching the stale, yellow windows that were left behind by the previous owner while looking down thirty one floors down, observing guards roaming the condominium premises with eyes like a droopy dog, only to talk to their fellow guards with a black, oily walkie-talkie that they had strapped over their left shoulder.

This new level of dullness also led me to watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy three times in a week, which is never a bad thing, but it will be if I could not find any films deserving for me to watch. I watched films with myself in theaters in Malaysia multiple times before; theater ushers could only look on as they see this young man passes them the ticket with a smile that could only be forged with social obligation.

Waves and waves of new firepower has arrived inside me. I am less patient, more prone to anger and full of doubts that would fill my head with thoughts that you wish any villain in a Steven Spielberg movie should have. I have just realized one thing that I could have realized a long time ago, and for the first time, this sentence made much sense to me.

I am alone.

Even the lady, my girlfriend, whose time is controlled by her very own family, could not curb this feeling of loneliness. She is leaving for Hong Kong in the next couple of days and that would be the temporary end to all human interactions I have with others. Perhaps, just perhaps, I just need courage to find those who stay behind Kuala Lumpur and maybe just be around a group of humans, but who is to say they would agree to go out with this young man whose words and actions resemble a slightly lonelier, Asian version of Holden Caulfield?

Even I, myself, laugh at this notion, for I know anyone knows better than to be close to me.


*****************************************

I have never used this phrase before, for this phrase is much used and most of the time, never true, but damn, I can really relate to this song.

sound city blues/ the hobbit/ **

I have to admit: I have little musical talent despite learning the guitars and ukulele but I lack dedication, a trait that every great musician shares. Sound City represents most of the albums I am listening to even to now, from The Rats to Nirvana to Rage Against The Machine to Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers to Queens of The Stone Age- the list is long.

At least I have one thing to look forward to in next February.

A McCartney-Nirvana combo from this upcoming movie. Is anybody even noticing the raw Stratocaster (just a guess; will confirm it when I watch the movie) being played by Pat Smear, that grunge-ish bass from Krist Novoselic while Dave Grohl is playing his signature pedal-tom-tom-pedal-together!-pedal-tom-tom-pedal combination? Of course, we cannot forget Paul McCartney's pop-ish voice going all rock on this track. If you are about to say this sounds like Nirvana or The Beatles in ultra grunge mode, you're a certified hater.

***************************

The Hobbit was okay. Was disappointed with CGI orcs or goblins. Was also disappointed with how they did not tell the audiences that the Eagles are a group of their own with Gwaihir and Landroval being Lords of the Eagles so as not to confuse them into thinking that Gandalf should have called them out early in the movie to, well, finish the mission of reclaiming the dwarfs' homeland.

***************************

Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam.

Do. Do. Do. Do.

Da. Da. Da. Da.

Em. Em. Em. Em.

Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi.

Go. Go. Go. Go.

Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah.

De. De. De. De.

Gur. Gur. Gur. Gur.

Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Yeah, my response to people whose words does not match their actions.

tutu tututu

Notes:

1) Zack Snyder is one of the better directors around. If you did not watch Watchmen before or did not understand the underlining between the dialogue or plot of the film, you are one sad soul.

2) Did I say Zack Snyder is good? Good, because he is good.

3) Oh, I am pretty sure some dude would be putting Sucker Punch into the picture. Don't worry; Zack Snyder fed his ego and he failed, so no worries, fans of Superman; Zack Snyder will revert back to the Watchmen Zack Snyder instead of Sucker what-the-hell-is-going-on Punch Zack Snyder.

4) Christopher Nolan's ego has expanded to a near non-refundable stage as seen in the ending of The Dark Knight Rises. However, since he is the producer, I will suspend my disbelief for his uh, interference in Snyder's direction and hope that this will remain as Snyder's work.

4) Amy Adams, you say? Russell Crowe, you say? That guy covered in gold dust in Immortal, you say? Sure, I'm in.

5) Michael Cannon, you say? Oh yeah, oh yeah.

*************************************

Tired. Sleepy. Stoned.

Damn, life is good.

************************************

More good tunes? Obliged.

thoughts on dash

- Twitter is such a groundbreaking social networking site. So many humans in this world are willing to spend 1 minute of their lives tweeting things like "I am sad", "You are my only one; don't let anyone take you away from me" or "I don't feel like I know you anymore". Did not know insecurity can be part of a money churning system.

- Just read this a day ago. Humanity just took ten steps backwards.

- I find it hard to decipher what fellow humans are thinking most of the time. I don't get how warm hospitality or a hardened friendship could turn into nonchalance or even severity of ties, where looking at me and saying hi at the same time seems to take away part of your sorry soul.

- Is it me or is it that the chances of you failing your course will be extremely high if you are to skip your Final Semester Examinations? Something to think about, friend.

- Normally, when I tag anyone on a post on Facebook and used caps lock on the words "COME ON!" or any other chat inducing phrases, I would expect you to either elicit a positive or negative response. If you don't, then clearly you are a Facebook douche.

- I like reading STOMP. It's like reading a five year old would-be sex offender's diary.

- Skyfall is a great movie. Clearly most of us can't see the importance in the background of Bond, Javier Bardem's acting, Sam Mendes' craft in trying to input both neo-noir and semiotics in the last few scenes and most of it, the movie's own way of rewarding any Bond fans who have watched the earlier movies. Did I mention how irritatingly catchy Adele's Skyfall is? Well, to me anyway.

- Everyone seems to think that I am joking whenever I say they are fat, plump, ugly or any other degrading words you could think of. The thing is, I am a Groucho Marx fan, inside or outside his films. Go figure.

- When you let the director who directed The Mummy: Tomb Of The Dragon Emperor direct Alex Cross, as a viewer, you would be mind blown by his sheer laziness and his, well, lack of talent. 

**********

I feel that this blog needs a good tune, so here's one. Joy.

strangers

Two days ago, this happened.

We were but mere strangers who occasionally bump onto each other around the ADP classroom corridors, but judging by the amount of people who expressed their unrequited friendship with you virtually on every social networking site I know, I am pretty sure that when you were still in this pitiful world called Earth, you were a bright spot in their lives.

I am not writing this as a friend or any of those poor bastards that you call friends who seek attention on Facebook, publicly announcing your death over and over again while gloating over the fact that they had a friend who passed away in a car accident as they discuss this incident on the very corridor you used to pass by, occasionally taking out a tissue paper, crying, exchanging hugs, more crying and then going out to get overpriced sandwiches in the form of Subway, laughing and joking over the latest cat video they found on the Internet. No. I am writing this as a stranger.

A stranger that you probably did not know existed.

Life after death is a journey itself and I hope that with all these 'wishes' from your friends and acquaintances from ADP, your new journey will be a much sweeter melody than the screeching of brakes from the interior of an out-of-control Perodua Myvi.

Take care, stranger. Your presence in my life will not be missed.

oh yeah....

Fuck me, hold tight, I am totally spaced out.

I am dead.
Alive?
Dead.
Alive?
Dead.
Alive?
Dead?
Alive.

Gosh, I need to sleep. Badly. I love curries. And chicken breasts. And fingernails. And paper. And saliva. And sexual innuendos. And pears. And rice. And soy sauce. And milk. And cheese. And shiny keyboards. And female geeks. And local markets. And Han Solo. And potatoes. And drums. And bacon. And huge hipbones. And-

Wait, what? What? What? What?

Huh? What? What?

Exit. Enter. Scream. Exit. Enter. Breathes. Dies. Exit.

To. To. To. To.

Tu. Tu. Tu. Tu.

Da. Da. Da. Da.

Ba. Ba. Ba. Ba.

Gu. Gu. Ga. Ga.

De. De. De. De.

Wash. Clean. Soft. Hard. Piece. White. Body. Black. Dead.

Huh?

Huh?

Huh?

Huh?

Ba. Ba. Ba. Ba. De. De. De. De.

De. De. Dee. Deee. Deeee. Deeeee. Deeeeee. Deeeeeee. Deeeeeeee. Deeeeeeeee.

Sometimes, I wish I was still alive.

songs for the midnight owls

In my own little world of music, this track is the right at the top of the mountain, alongside several others. Great, great drum riff armed with Dave's half-scream-half-mumble voice. Ah, I miss the 90's.

You have Eddie Vedder, whose voice is imitated by so many musicians. You have Mike McCready, who created a guitar riff that is voted as one of the Top 50 Guitar Riffs Of All Time. Nuff' said.

Sorry, can't help but post an acoustic version of the previous track. Someone give Mike McCready a what-the-fuck-did-he-just-do-with-an-acoustic-guitar award or something already.

One of the only few Soundgarden songs that I really enjoy listening to. I prefer melodic grunge, not their usual slammadownimmasmashthisguitarwiththispowerriffandthenyouwillnodyourheadprofuselytillyougoallcrazy metal grunge. Chris Cornell has a great voice, but if he sings more melodic-based grunge songs like this one, he would probably keep his great voice intact and not do crazy stuff like, I dunno, Audioslave? Still, their new album's coming out, so there is something to look forward to in music after all.

*edit: Not to say both Soundgarden or Audioslave are 'bad' bands to me, of course, but most of their music just couldn't give me that musical frisson like the ones above.

This song dispels the midnight what-ifs in my mind and keep me, well, groovy and dancing around, imitating Ed's moves. Your touch keeps on hurtin'!

Do you know that the full title of this song is Lying Is The Most Fun Girls Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off? Quirky lyrics and music video aside, this song, along with their debut album A Fever You Can't Sweat Out, was part of my early teenage years, alongside the early 00's Maroon 5 and All-American Rejects. Still can't help but uh, dance to this beat.


In case you are wondering why the music videos, that is probably because I have absolutely nothing to post at all, which is good thing because if I were to post something about my life, it would be some profound shower thoughts which I don't think anyone would wanna know.

So... Yeah. I guess this is it. I will be on a hiatus until the day when I can think of a way to write down shower thoughts into more than three paragraphs because most of it ends at the second. See you.

P.S: Gonna check out Hulk Hogan's sex video. Apparently, it has the ability to turn all viewers of that video vegetarians for the rest of their lives. Haha. Haha.

?

This blank page is now being filled with words made up of words, a sort-of paradox that will never be solved until a wise Communist decides to openly tell the world that it is Greedo who shot Han Solo first, not the other way. 

With this senseless blog post almost done, I shall pick cherries from a coconut tree while sipping banana flavoured Coke from my chocolate flavoured Sprite water bottle. By the way, this statement is false. Oh look, another paradox. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

-fades-

i am bubbly again. no soap this time, though.

Yadayadayada I-love-you, yadayadayada, I-miss-you, yadayadayada I-wish-you-were-here, yadayadayadayada I-hate-my-life, yadayadayadayada if-only-I-had-a-life-partner, yadayadayada sex-money-drugs-bitches-tattoos, yadayadayadayada party-party-parteyyyyy, yadayadayadayada you-no-swag-I-swag, yadayadayadayada I-the-mamasan-you-da-bitch and yadayadayadayada more.

Such is the life of being stuck in endless loops of modern radio 'hits'.

*******

If anything, this ukulele kept me sane for the past two weeks of my holidays. It was insanely dull and far exceeded the level of boredom I had during my December holidays when I was thirteen. All my friends went back to their hometown while some 'gundus' decided it was funny to ask me out and then cancelled the outing fifteen minutes before the time that we agreed to meet by. 

Of course, when you are stuck in a home with four blindingly white walls with a mum that constantly nags about the increasingly bad qualities of mooncakes, you tend to talk to inanimate things that lie around your room, namely your pen, your wristband to even your underwear. Before you ask, yes I did all that; in fact, I find them much more tolerable than half of my acquaintances in ADP. 

(Yes, half of my acquaintances in ADP are conniving jerks who will literally do anything to get good grades and then compare their grades to each other, loudly but 'accidentally' spilling out their well deserved grades because they studied too damn hard the night before the exam, all this while sucking the lecturer's toes by being insensitively sensitive clowns who do nothing but leech in the office, not allowing anybody to ask the lecturer questions based on the subject he/she is teaching except for themselves. Also, let's not forget the fact that my right hand, which is constantly on a West-to-East motion so as to wave at anyone I know, gets ignored most of the time unless he/she is my friend, which I now actually do have quite a few. Of course, let's recollect the fact our student body is made up of a pair of twins that are highly irritable with their high pitched voices and their sucking-lecturer's-toes way, an Indian pop singer who can barely sing a lullaby, let alone releasing a couple of albums; 'emo' kids who preach about their sexual lives and how good liquor is when there are still fluorescent lights on; cunning geeks who pretend to befriend you but their ulterior motive is simply to gather information and see the progress of your assignment and of course, stagnant geeks who pretend to know everything there is to know about the world when all they know is just how to fill their potty brain of theirs with piles of gossips and what I call, necessary nonsense of the what-ifs in the arts of DoTA or CoD.

Okay, just realised I just deviated from the main topic and ranting off into probably an endless pool of rage and shaking of heads. I digress. I still love ADP though; at least half of my acquaintances and all my friends know the word 'humility'.)

So this ukulele became part of my inanimate family, anchoring the huge responsibility to entertain me in every different way musically. I even named it Koa after the Hawaiian word for warrior, which summarizes every single fibre of dullness I felt during the two week break. 

As the third semester began just barely a week ago, I am ready for more challenges. I may not like staring at books and rigorously memorizing every single syllable in it, but I love assignments and projects, which will take most of my time during the next three to four months. Life, as a friend, finally responded with my repeated requests of speeding its other friend, Time, so that I can continue on my journey to become a Man.

Of course, Koa, you will be part of this journey, accompanying me till the end of my journey, which I hope will be the time when I am six hundred and thirty five years old so that I can show off to the kids in the future that I got a relic in the form of an ukulele and tell them that there was such a thing called 'music' in the past. 

(As you can see, I am pretty bad with putting a conclusion to everything I typed, so after this meaningless paragraph, an earnest, smiley face will be typed below so as to make you feel slightly happy and bubbly because you have just read another 'huh?' post by this old teen who barely sleeps on a daily basis. See you guys soon!)

(:

*Just proofread my own work and edited some of the vocabulary. Tata.

Midnight.

Midnight blurts out my name, as though remembering my face and attire from somewhere or some place. It only hunts in the night and is rarely successful in its attempts, but when it does, it will render the prey defenceless against its lashing claws that rips out the human heart and view it under the blue light, looking through the user's past and present while inserting deadly formulas of nostalgia into it.

I am the prey now. As Midnight is beside me now, I cannot help but think of the past. That small fragment of memory I keep in my heart for these past two years and three months. This small feeling of nostalgia that injected my heart right now is turning my mind red, for I see only of that colour whenever I view it. 

To exorcise this memory, I tried my best. Attempts are made, but none are successful. Midnight declares itself as a part of me, only coming out of that shell that is my heart when it is at midnight. Not taken in by my words, it burns a hole in my heart and inserts that damned fragment into it. The only way to vanquish it is to rip out my heart as Midnight did, and burn it.

I failed.

I am now but a broken shell of myself, trying ways to please Midnight and its claws that terrifies me. The memories haunt me till today, and I blame myself for inviting the memory inside my heart, for it made a deal with me. In exchange of reliving this memory, I will need to experience the one power that all living things wish they do not have the emotions to feel it at all: Guilt. Guilt of being who I was. Guilt of being what I had become after that. Guilt of me almost ruining another person's life.

Today, the day before the Day itself, I will burn Midnight. Oh yes, the memories that haunt me for these past few years shall be gone be tonight, for I am now done living in the past. The tunnel of light is several steps away, and the road behind me has officially closed down, signifying the end of my journey as a Midnight junkie.

Goodbye, Midnight, for today, I bid you farewell.

haha.

changkat

pay

me

no

mind

my dear

mouth

the

silencer

the hands

cusped

strands

of time

tuck

me

to

bed

safe

asleep

downfall

answers

papers

of

green and

dotted black

pioneer

of

troubles

and peace

rest

do 

not

fret

smell

the

dancing

apples

George

is 

watching with

keen eyes

his

smile

creased but

wild

silver

and

gold

(coins?)

tartar

sauce

in

Changkat

needing

more

wanting

less

pass

perfect

pants

protect

my

days

are

over

end

is

finding

closure

i

close my

eyes and

scream

(what a joy) 

(what a joy!)

what 

a joy

to be

alive!

*******

Just a poem.

*******

Semester 3 is officially over.

If time has a stopwatch, it must be out of service now. Too many times have I tried to stop time from moving faster than it should be but alas, I am still witnessing seconds and seconds ticking past me with flickering motions of hellos and byes.

I got two weeks to get through. Two weeks of rotting, sitting down on my red chair, now wishing time could go as quick as possible. However, like a stubborn mule, time only works for itself, its seconds turning from falling sand to drips of water from an unused water hose. 

Time is my friend.

Time is my enemy.

Time is my pet.

*******

If you are wondering, yes, I am experimenting with heavy imageries with the paragraphs above. Something tells me that I am not very suited for that...

P.S: Going to Genting with the lady later on. I never went to Genting before, so this will be fun. I guess.

Just an update.

One of my absolute favorite Oasis songs. Strangely though, I cannot put the music video in this blog post, so this lyric video with stars and stuff should make it up... Or not.

Also, this song is dedicated to Kelvin, Kit Yin and many other friends in ADP who are leaving Malaysia to further their studies in America. Good luck people; I sincerely wish all of you good luck and may our paths cross again, no matter how slim the chance it might be (:

***

Time flies.

Time can never slow down for a guy like me. I could never grasp time with my bare hands; I am not a deity, I am just a mere human in this world, still trying to find a place to plant my feet on. No matter how sticky or daunting the road may be, I ventured most of it safely without turning back to take a look at the past. The past is the past; it is like vying for another gold medal at this year's Olympics for Malaysia.

I am dying. Dying because the future is too near. This is the first time I am afraid of putting the next step forward. The rocks on the river that leads to the other side is shaky. The water's tide is unstable. The trees behind me are shaking. The birds are chirping. The bag is getting heavier. My legs are getting tired. I am getting restless.

I cannot see the light.

As confident as I may be, I am much better off making decisions that benefit my own self. Then again, the decisions I have made for these past few years have been nothing short of benefiting only myself. Just for once, for once, I wish I could make a decision that satisfies everyone that I care for.

You can see where I am getting at now, readers. There is no way, no way that I could make a decision about my future that could console the people I care for. There will always be this one or two little sacrifices that I have to make in order to see the future.

Alas, the future is near. It is 6th August 2012 now, exactly nine days from being inducted to ADP. The rocks I am standing on is still shaky. One step back will cost me two years of my life (starting from freshman in America). Staying on the same rock will cost me my experience (staying here in Malaysia). One step forward will make me start all over again (transfer to Vancouver Film School, which alienates me from everyone I know, causing me to start afresh in a foreign place).

My mind is stuck on going for the latter. It has been a long time since I made a decision that makes everyone happy, but this is not the time to make it just yet. Not now. I am my own man. No more hesitation.

I am but an inch from putting my foot forward.

Somehow, I am still alive.


P.S: Got myself the box set of A Song Of Ice And Fire. I still got Emily Dickinson and Miss Bernice's memoir to read, so I guess my post-final term examination plans are half sorted out.

P.P.S: Stop it. Stop this sorcery you put on me!

New life.

Hi, guys.

Due to complications of using a Hotmail account (ever so eager to spam my inbox and induce my laptop with deadly viruses), I have created a new blog, which is handled by a Gmail account, which is, without a question, better than Hotmail.

With this small announcement announced, I am essentially done with this blog post. I will definitely try to post something by this week, next week by latest. See you (figuratively) soon!