pistola(?)

Days.

Day after day, week after week, a similar routine has sprouted out of the gentle soil, and I have no other choice but to nurture it, to give it the nutrients to grow to something that even I would not be able to know. 

Nevertheless, this is a casual blog post. No weary, sob-worthy sentences for me for this post. As suggested, I will try to make this blog post a little bit more light and well, informative, and what way but to do this in point form!

1) I am single. 

2) Resigned from my part time job in Gamer's Hideout. It was one of the more grueling times I ever had post-secondary school, and to learn about office/work politics among colleagues the hard way had led me to an even stronger hatred for any business related jobs/courses.

3) Got my new Nintendo 3DS XL. Took me only a year to finally purchase one.

4) Reinvigorated my dislike for haircuts in general. I forgot how rude certain barbers/hairstylists could be.

5) Got into a minor car accident and my car is left in the workshop to be fixed and evaluated by the insurance company, who has been delaying the process of giving back my prized Alexis, the stallion that is the Perodua Myvi. I need it back. Now. Please. Please? ):

6) Because I currently have no vehicles available to drive and Malaysia being a country where going anywhere requires a petrol chugging machine, I am stuck in my house, being absolutely unproductive. Argh.

7) My sister has been watching copious amounts of this Korean reality television series named Running Man, and has gotten from an outgoing, explorer-like young teen to an introvert with a passion to learn anything Korean. The power of media is just too strong.

8) I really have nothing interesting going on right now that I could write in this last point, unless you want me to tell you the number of times I imagined myself having Jedi-like powers and just mind trick myself into getting free ice cream from Baskin Robbins.

Well, this is it. A light, more personal and less figurative post about what has been going on in my life.

See you in a bit, Internet.

sleepless night.

Probably my favorite from them.

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

With the inevitable fact that I am not able to close my eyes and fully switch my brain into standby mode, I am stuck here, in a pool of words, trying to fish out the alphabets I need to fully lay out what I am thinking of and what I should write in this little space of mine.

Journeys. Spaces. Power. Lust. Guilt. More guilt.

As I drag myself into this pool of self pity, I wonder; what really makes a human dedicated to being one? What makes a human grasp on to that little hope that would fly off their buttery hands if they are not so careful with it? What sort of motivation they have to keep on living their lives the way it is, or specifically, mine?

Flowing thoughts of uneasiness are like layers of soft wind caressing my brain with its tender touch, and now, I am floating in the air, breathing in residual molecules of hydrogen and oxygen left by other humans, with a stab wound in my heart. It bleeds and cries out loudly, and I have no way to save it.

(Save it? Why not just leave it?)

Precisely.

over.

The phase is over. I am over. I am dead, a whispering mantra to the large universe that speaks to every single cell in every single being, and worn down to the last veneer of salt. 

I have said enough and done enough. Inferiority beckons me like poison, and now, I am but a stagnant living soul, one whose powers of manipulating his life rests upon not him and not anyone else, but upon the stars that has been tricking him with deceit and surprising him with gifts of joy and wonder.

I am, after all, just human.

blues

Good blues for a good day.

****

Confused.

My greatest will has been broken by words and actions of others, and now, I am left here, conflicted with many thoughts in my mind and none that would help to solve the solution.

Oh, midnight woes. It seemed inevitable that I am back into the realm of afterthoughts, of dreams and fantasies made of candy flavored desires. I can already see myself diving into this deep hole I call uncertainty, and test the waters that lay ahead. Terrible, terrible me. I hate myself, but I have to, I need to, find the truth for myself, for the chest that I left behind is an empty one.

Morality itself is fading, and the line that separates it is losing its power, making emotions and senses being manipulated, being fed by the very evil that I am trying to avoid all this while.

Please. Please. No more.

No more.

Save me. Save myself. Save me myself. 

huh?

As hard as I try to be consistently publishing interesting (or at least attempt to be) posts to entertain the small amount of small readers out there, it has been hard trying to post something interesting, and the previous post was my feeble attempt to at least write something remotely readable.

I vomited chunks of confused rage after it. My previous post was horrible was, to me, the lowest point in my blogging life.

I will not attempt to redeem myself, of course; I am far too lazy to correct myself and make me seem philosophical again when I am actually just jumbling words up and see how it works out. This may seem like another senseless post, but rest assured, it is not. Anything that involves me confessing that I made a mistake (I do, in fact, have inherited my maternal side's genes of being overconfident and slightly egocentric, like a less evil and smarter version of Jay Leno) means that this will, and should be, a relevant post about my life and its many branches that sprout out from it. Here goes:

I love cheese.

This information may seem minimal, but it might help save the world when the time comes when I become the supreme dictator of Milk Valley and you need to bribe me with something other than slabs of green paper. See you soon, readers.

gasping.

With my soul barely hanging on to the strings of the puppeteer that has long been dead, I walk on this soiled earth with bare feet, trying to perhaps find a shelter that could drown all these pain.

Like the past, I cannot find any. All I could find are brown, dead leaves covered with bright red blood, shimmering brightly under the bright artificial lights that points towards Paradise. Death has come and taken everything away, leaving nothing behind but breadcrumbs of bread that are scattered on the floor leading towards the pale green exit.

I am tired. Perhaps, when I can finally throw these veneer of bad memories and wear good ones instead, I would finally achieve the inner peace that I so crave for such a long time.

waves.

Hours and hours past with no desire to stop, and you ran with it, dousing the fire that both of us have in our hearts.

I know you will never be coming back.

I can only see black and white as the colors of nature have lost its beauty, and your presence in my mind is the only one that illuminates with such light that it blinds me. Living in this world has been a blessing with you in it, and now, it is a curse that would bind me with me bleeding red and specks of grey.

The shimmering light bulbs that would dance around your head when you thought of an amazingly dull idea, the punches and scratches I would have to endure, the look you would give me whenever I drove my car with near undivided concentration... I miss all that. I really do.

Perhaps I have underestimated my feelings for you. This slow, aching feeling that is churning my stomach and slowly turning my emotions into a black, thundering cloud is all but your doing, your physical presence being 8,670 miles away. Yellow bricks with gooey black tar are building itself around my heart, a defensive wall that is slowly turning everyone else away, and my mind is twisting itself into a downward spiral of loss. I am now defenseless. Hopelessness is brimming through the crevices of my mind, with wave after wave of emotions hitting me with such power it hurts whenever I move a fiber of my body. This time, I have lost. Lost to time and 8,670 miles.

Good luck in New York, girl. Good luck.

fire.

Andrew Wood. Oh dear.


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

Life has been like a gaping hole on a heart, unwilling, unsettling, unprotected. Events shook its core deep, and now it is left with an empty shell, waiting for the rightful chance to make it right.

Hours and hours of sitting down on my brightly lit laptop typing this post, and not once had I ever settled myself on a topic to write about. The unchanging sands of time has taken over me, and I have been slave for these past few years. No more does time wait for me; I wait for time, because it only reflects my own wrongdoing when I do not.

The curtains are unfolding. My life is like a cinema, a plethora of audience watching me burn and cry and scream and yell and laugh. Perhaps I have been very open about my personal life; people have started poking it with an olive stick, and then douse me with cold fire. The breaths of many humans are gathering itself to become one single life form, the one that kills you with a whisper of his word and a stroke of its fingertips on a streaky keyboard. No life lessons have prepared me for this. No mundane television shows have taught me this. No one in particular, warned me for this.

For I am now officially in a writer's block, and I am running in circles.

update.

Probably the most unforgettably forgettable song in the 90's.

**

My tired bones are screaming for help, for I have overworked them. The knives that I took on my back have taken its toll. The blood drips down from the tip like a broken tap, creating copious trails that lead all the bloodthirsty humans to my doorstep, eager to have a taste in one of most perilous moments of my life. As I pull these knives one by one, I can only ask these humans this:

Why?

**

Nothing much is going on in my life; it has been said and repeated in a very similar manner again and again. Words are such powerful tools, but when it is used under my hands, it withers and dies in the way you would expect from a 19 year old Chinese Malaysian whose concerns in his life is perpendicular to the ones that most 19 year olds from around the world would face.

Ah well.

sunny.

It was said that this legendary album was the missing link between emo and post-hardcore, making it the base of many other bands who venture into the arts of the genres mentioned above.

Till today, no one has stepped up and proved this theory wrong.

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

My soul is weary.

Long nights haunt me now. I could not stay up too late, lest my eyes drool and drip out copious amounts of hydrogen oxide. My body clock has turned itself on me; now, I am but a walking, lifeless soul that spends my days with my mind wandering off to lands of flowers and watery graves.

My life serves no purpose, for I am the God of my own life. I am not an atheist, and I will never be one; it is too hypocritical to assume something that could not be real to could not be real when your assumption could not be real in the first place. I am fighting for something in my life that I could grasp, could physically hold it with my palms closed around it tightly, but what is it? An academic certificate? A trophy? A gun?

A life?

Perhaps, in this world where nothing comes cheap, I have come to succumb to the fears of the feared. The damning of the damned. I am not myself, and I will never be until I search for the fragment in my life that I sorely lack. A piece of the puzzle that has hid itself under the moldy couches and never to be found again until the end of days.

Mechanical hands type this post as I look up at the clock perched beside the television. It is half past two in midnight, a customary time for most humans to fall asleep and dream of gold and sex. I am too tired to sleep and too energetic to stay awake. I can feel judgmental eyes laying itself on me, waiting for me to make an error worthy of them to mention in daily gossips on a round table with overly sweet snacks and ice cold drinks.

And I shall find my soul back, along with its essence.

horizon.

The masters are back. My goodness, what a masterpiece of an album!

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

As my 6th and final semester of ADP approaches with a vague knock on the door, I am contemplating on the many things this course has taught me.

It has not been a good two years in ADP. The intended and unintended drama, the tension, the rapid declining of passion in academics, the rising responsibilities of being the only male in my household, and the decisions.

Oh, the decisions.

Trying to make things right will never cut it, because the past will never change itself ever again, but the future was and still is in my hands, and I never made a single effort to fling my hand to grab it, to secure it like many others would in this age. I squandered it away like a king, a mad king, a king whose love and compassion is being counted and measured by favors of humans and gold. What good money can give you is faith, but faith can never buy you security. My heart has been feeling void for a long four years, with nearly nothing to fill it.

In these two years, I have lived, died and lived again. The drums are playing with a resounding beat of freedom, the sounds of a bird being released from a rusty cage, a boy turning into a man under many eyes of snakes. Two and a half more months, and I shall not be called a boy, but a man.

They say flowers are destined to wilt and lose its beauty, but what beauty can it be when its life is determined by the soil it is grown on? I will remain here, a moist but incompetent soil of a country where many have left to find soil worthy to grow on. I possess no gold to do that, and I no longer have the courage to do that. There is only so many moments a man like me would try to shake off the flakes of security and go in search of a better life, but life has abandoned me with its powerful rain. What remains is a white flower stained by the words of others and the lies of telling itself being blue in color.

A smile will never buy friendship, and I am inclined to believe in that. Only favors do, and when favors sink in, a true friendship would blossom under the initial intention of using one another. Perhaps in ADP, I am not fated to have that many acquaintances or friends, for I do not believe in brokering and instead on trust.

As the next two and a half months of my final semester, I shall smile and be the white flower that I have always wanted others to see.

This is the end, and I shall be the one to start it again.

And this, despite its dreamy feel, is what I shall listen to as I walk to class tomorrow. What little harm can it make when your life is a packaged lie that your closest ones and yourself donned for perhaps their whole lives?

mr a

I just love The Hoosiers. Listening to them always make me smile.


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

In less than 12 hour's time, I will be back to my 2nd home, the place where I spent half of my life in.

Singapore.

I am genuinely looking forward to going there, and for that, this blog will be on a hiatus for about a week. Smell you later.

murder by numbers/ humans

Oh, Malaysia. You amuse me.

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

We humans are susceptible to emotions and the amount of attention we give to it is staggering. What a double edged dagger this is. 

We all die and live by it, never falling asleep because of it, never giving up because of it, and never going to intellectually move on because of it. We perceive manners and situations based on experiences we faced and the influences that our dear ones imposed on us, making us fragile to the events that are unfolding before us and the future, which seemed to be controlled by the very things we think we could control.

As much as human beings try to evolve and be the protagonist-in-a-movie version of themselves, we will stay the same. We fault ourselves based on things that we cannot grasp and reward ourselves to things we have not yet come to understand. We are the most flawed human beings in the world, yet we are gifted with such intelligence that we come to undermine our own decisions and the amount of side effects that we would be facing once we choose to let that pass. 

We slave ourselves through life, going through many emotional ordeals such as love or anger, and in the end, our inner structure collapses and what would happen if it does? We push our ordeals aside and build it back to its original state again, but will it be safe from predators? Will the structure be a structure? Will everything, if anything, be the same again?

Death comes as an easy route for the barren, but living presents itself as the hardest journey to come by. What a joke. 

What a joke indeed.

jumper/ glow

Reminds me of my childhood and the secret dream I had to want to be in a band playing drums. It happened, and oh boy, did it feel so good despite being in one for a short period of time.

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

It is days like this when this human will pop up in my mind and overwhelm me with memories over the four semesters we are together in.

As much as I do not want to say it, I just cannot bring myself to forget you. Your impact is so much more than just an ukulele and the meaning of kinship. It is also about friendship and the many things we can love other than just the things we can feel with our five senses.

I guess, maybe, just maybe, we can finally meet again and right the wrongs I have done.

hurtin' / ?

Cute.

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

Oh humans.

Can we get any emotionally weaker than we already are? Can we stop breaking ourselves into pieces and attempt to mend ourselves using the past as glue? Can we ever escape the flaws that enslave us to the point where we abide by our own emotions?

The ability to belong is such a strong emotion, it kills you. Releasing all sorts of distractions, you allow yourself to be deluded over and over again, only to be destroyed by memories and words that should have been left unhinged.

What a tragedy!
What weakness!

Puny. We are all puny.

update/ drift and die

1) RIP, grandpa. You will be missed.

2) Met my biological father for the first time since I was six days old. I am still glad I looked like my mother rather than him.

3) Bioshock Infinite is by far the most intriguing game I have ever played, with all its game mechanics and plot devices that propels it as the better of most FPS games that are out there. The ending is, I must say, masterfully planned and beautifully executed. What a game.

4) I feel like doing a Shakespearean soliloquy whenever I am with my friends talking about random things. I just do not get the 'oh-really-tell-me-more-let-me-listen-to-you-attentively' attention from them whenever I try to voice out my opinions. 

5) I love Pringles. Or maybe that's just me.

6) And KFC. Oh, I love KFC.

7) I have started on a new hobby; playing Magic: The Gathering. Card games always appealed to me and despite the hefty price tags that most cards have, I am willing to pay for it; I just need something to keep my brain thinking.

8) I hope you would attempt to understand me like how I am always trying to understand you. Or else, why bother?

That's all for now. Smell you later.

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

In my six years of blogging, this song was featured the most because I just love how simple the melodic progression would get and the little subtlety of the lyrics. Most 'rock' (ha!) songs have taken the 'technical-is God' mantle, where switching guitar chords are more important than just having fun. Besides, this is one of the four good Puddle of Mudd songs before they officially decline into nothingness; what else is there not to hate?

update

Finnish/Swedish rock bands are often overlooked because their music are often accompanied with the ever-common acoustic guitars and poetic lyrics, both which do not fit into the current music meta. If you have not listened to any of these bands, you are officially missing a lot.

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

Tired. Just tired. 

Sometimes, I wish time would stop and just let me right the wrongs and wrong the rights. 

think./ ingenue

I'm tired as a human. Tired of tasting the fruits of people's labors and worrying about the little things in life all the time.

Spiritually, I find myself dangling on a thread, gnawing my way out through the skins and teeth of other humans. I cannot see myself, but I see Him, or Her, or Anyone Else who stays in my mind and rots with me, who burns with the little lick of fire that is dancing around people's eyes, who sees through their minds off pointy ears and nosy noses. The ones whose words are charms, the works of art where they linger through my mind like glistening lines of silver.

I wish I was like you. Born and raised like rajahs, whose hands are littered with slippery gold and silver coins. The ones who compares and be compared, the ones that are always fighting but never losing and the ones that kill, but do not leave drops of blood lying around like warriors of old. 

I, the man of myself, wish that I could have done something worthy to be mentioned in my life, not just wandering and searching for inner peace and resolve. Weak as I am, I am strong in words, but words do not mean anything when life is controlled by those with green papers and strong ties that are connected by bridges of contracts and inner greed. I do not control my life, and my body is but a mere tool to a Man's scheme.

Tired. Tired. Tired. I am tired. We are all born dead naturally, but We still strive to survive, to live in a world full of fallacies and forced contemplation. What are decisions when you already made one? What is love when love is not there for you when you are hungry? What is power and fame when both share the same parents of green? 

Done. Done. I am done. Humans? Souls? Bodies? I.

Am done.

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

As music goes in these past few years, this is a gem.

house of car ds

The infrastructure will collapse
Voltage spikes
Throw your keys to the bowl
Kiss your husband goodnight

Forget about your house of cards
And I'll do mine
Forget about your house of cards
And I'll do mine

Fall off the table, get swept under

Denial, denial

Oh, Thom.


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

Some days, I would like to shoot every Hollywood director for letting Argo, Zero Dark Thirty and Lincoln be available to be screened for everyone in the same year. What a way to brainwash every non-American's minds and make them all succumb to the 'all-powerful-and-strong' American way of life and moral code.

Even though all three of them are being viewed as good movies, one can only take so much propaganda in a year. Good try, Hollywood.

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

You know you are addicted to a trading card game (yet again) when you are starting to spend loads of money on it. Damn you, Magic: The Gathering. Why must you be designed in a way that I have to keep on playing you to feel spiritually superior?

P.S: I realized that I have been neglecting You because of the two new hobbies that I have developed for the past month. I understand your plight and the fact that you are heading to New York this August does not help the cause at all. I promise, with all my heart (which is only one), that I will balance the time between my studies, my newfound hobbies and You. If not, may I be a Radiohead song.

major (minor) update

1) Chinese New Year was, in short, dull. Nothing like staying in my uncle's house in Ipoh, sipping copious amounts of Coca-Cola and organize mandarin orange massacres.

2) Went for Paramore's concert last Sunday. Anyone who says her band is overrated should see her live; she has not attained the vibe that Joan Jett has, but she is definitely a true blue rock musician, the one where you can't help but root for her, regardless of what she does in her future music career. So proud of her and her band's accomplishments.

3) Celebrated my first ever official Valentine's Day. Thanks to it, I am near penniless.

4) Harlem Shake might replace Gangnam Style as the new 'trendy dance', and it is mind boggling. The music itself is not catchy, the dance is stupidly random and there is just no flair or any theme in it, making it one of the most useless urban trends next to milking.

This should be the next Harlem Shake. I don't mind pretending to have spasms while looking stoned in a middle of a crowd while wearing a bowl hat.


5) Some humans seem to assume that a person speaking confounding sentences, somewhat smart decision and asking profound questions is smart. Donald Trump is proud of you guys.

6) I have been venturing into a game that I never thought I would play: Dota. Or Dota 2, to be specific. It is a parasite that never stops eating my brain cells and spitting it out with large amounts of headaches and eye sore.

7) I have been trying to grow this Thom Yorke-like hair (as shown on the video above) and is currently wearing a headband to secure my long and irritating fringe. Yes, I look like a wannabe surfer and yes, I am trying to look like a semi-drunk/stoned/high/drugged man with moves that is worthy to be mentioned in the Emergency wards in hospitals.

8) I do not like my current semester's timetable. I do not mind 8am classes, but at least make it everyday. I cannot stand having my Mondays and Fridays with a 10am class and the rest with an 8am class. It messes up my body clock and definitely screwed up my attention span in the classes mentioned above. Oh well.

9) I watched Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunter, The Last Stand and A Good Die To Die Hard in the cinema recently. Generic action popcorn flicks, and I damned near choked on popcorn fumes. What a sad era for the film industry.

10) I am getting addicted to the trading card game, Magic: The Gathering. I can see my wallet bleeding as it gobbles up the coins left on the table greedily.

11) I do not understand my sister's obsession with Greyson Chance. Is it because his surname is actually pretty cool, or his music is as good as she says? Whatever it is, I cannot stand her blasting the whole 'sunshine, city lights, will guide you home' song every time I try to complete my assignments.

Okay. I think I am done with all this post. Bye.

This blog deserves a good tune, and here it is.

nos-tal-gia

Funny how a song could make me feel nostalgic about the times when I was in A-Levels. Even though I never really excelled in the course, I did enjoy the friends and acquaintances I made there. I miss those early morning walks where I would smell the crisp morning air and walk towards college, where I would talk just about everything to my PL2 classmates, most of them whom I got along well with.

Even though it was never the best of days for me (I eventually did very badly in A-Levels and proceeded to join ADP), it was definitely the most intriguing six months worth of life lessons for me. The 'backstabbing', the gossips, the cold wars, the joy of being immature and mature, the amount of ease needed to just walk to Asia Cafe and plop down on a seat, eating different meals per day- those days were just perfect. There was really no social flaw at all; it was just pure joy caring about nothing and be with a bunch of people who would become my first few friends or acquaintances after the return to Malaysia.

Of course, there were arguments and two silly advances towards two different girls by me, but then again, as mentioned above, it was like a six months worth of life lessons for me. I was lost back then, I admit; but now, as I stand near the end of my teenage life, I could only say that it was, and it would be, the most memorable six months of my life.

Friends come and go, but to me, they are just an extended version of a family. Even though I only stay in contact closely with one of the PL2 classmates now, their presence in my life was greatly felt and I definitely dispelled the whole 'Malaysians-can't-speak-English' theory dancing in my head while I was living in a cynical Singapore back then.

Oh, and yes, I just realized this blog post is getting too long, and I shall end it here. See you soon, readers.

P.S: Apparently, my least favorite uncle of the family had a hole (literally) on his right buttock because he took a hair hormonal injection.... With a syringe that had a dirty needle. Family joke of the century. Will probably tell my kids about how a man would screw his own buttocks up because he wanted to grow more hair on his balding head. Zing!

tune/ hollywood (?)

This blog sorely needs a new tune, so here it is. Ta-da.

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

I am terribly saddened to say that after I watched Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, that the film industry has gone above the shallow waters and onto the deepest of shallow shores.

Hollywood has been putting out the same formula again and again, where they pull off action scripts full of blood, vulgar, elaborate slow-mo angles and gore but left the plot/script/choice of actors to three year olds. While I am not to say Jeremy Renner or Gemma Artheton are not good actors (they are, in fact, pretty decent for the 20th century), but you can just tell that they are not enjoying this whole re-imagining of Hansel and Gretel thing going on, despite the fact that they told the media they enjoyed filming it.

Of course, if you want to talk about 'deep and profound' movies Hollywood has made throughout the years, the only ones worthy to mention in the past ten years are The Dark Knight, The Departed, Moneyball and True Grit. Other than that, the overly egoistic movies such as The Dark Knight Rises (let's face it; Nolan's 'I-am-famous-now-so-I-think-anything-I-put-out-on-movie-screen-is-good' plan is definitely splattering all over your body as you watch the movie) and horribly decent movies like The Hangover (please do not let me get started on that) are putting the industry to shame.

For many years, filmmakers have wished for a mold where they can craft a film in such a way that any audience could tell it belongs to him or her making. They got it in the form of CGI effects and the sudden interest in making a film based on hard material like books or comics.

Say what you want, but Michael Bay's Transformers was the movie that left the mold the way it is right now. A hero in distress, a sexy lady who just so happens to know something the hero does not know and also happens to be a tomboy, a robot sidekick from outer space and a pile of villains who do not give a damn about the hero but still gets their ass kicked by the hero's lady friend and his robotic sidekick.

We, the viewers, are trapped in a vicious cycle where countless of movies used the same plot and script with different actors to ruse us, to amuse us with their deceit and lies of being creative. The Hollywood film industry has made one good movie out of ten, and the other six or seven are rated 7/10 or higher by critics or viewers simply because they have better sound effects and a complete 80's Scorsese ripoff with a hint of Polanski's attention to emotions.

I guess I am just tired of watching the same film over and over again. This mold needs to change, and while the mold is still being used by many in Hollywood, I would have to assume that half of them did not realize that what they have been doing are the same and had done nothing to contribute to the film industry. Sex, money, power or even pretentious kinship do not cut it anymore.

If I were to get a choice to direct a film and to have control over the process of making the entire script, I would make a movie solely about food, a man with a simple dream and in Hollywood standards, a hilariously realistic heist gone wrong. Viewers and critics search for plots that are worthy to be called 'profound' or just simply rummage through a movie searching for actions full of fire and bullet holes, but what they are missing out is the simplicity, the white sheet of paper that is a viewer's mind when he or she comes into the movie, sitting down on a comfortable (assuming it is) chair with both hands busy with popcorn and fattening soft drinks on their hands. Impressively laden plots like Inception could make a viewer go 'wow', but trust me, a simple movie like Submarine (by Richard Ayoade, by the way) could also make a viewer go home with a new, refreshing feeling.

This is a TV series I am hooked on right now. It is incredibly stupid if you do not know what is going on, but if you do, then you will have some of the best 30 minutes of your life.

Of course, my opinions on Hollywood will change eventually, but for better or for worse, I do not know. However, there is one thing I DO know; after graduating from Film school, I would rather work my ass and get paid less than two thousand quid a month filming dormant volcanoes on helicopters or freezing to death filming a wide angle shot in the North Pole for BBC than to direct a B-rated action movie in Hollywood, earn half a million dollars and being well known as 'the guy to look for if you want to see things explode'. Just sayin'.

P.S: As an instant noodles regular, I would suggest to anyone to keep the hell away from seafood flavored ones. They taste like a glass of water full of salt and water with soggy strands of hair.

5th semester

Fly by night, away from here
Change my life again
Fly by night, goodbye my dear
My ship isn't coming and I just can't pretend

Moon rise, thoughtful eyes
Staring back at me from the window beside
No fright or hindsight
Leaving behind that empty feeling inside

It is time to face my 5th semester of ADP. Frankly, this will be the toughest of the five semesters I am in this course, most of it because I am in classes that I am pretty sure I will not fit into my Music or American Government lessons. The key to stand above the rest in ADP is to play the 'I-know-everything' card, but unfortunately, I only know how to play the 'nodding-my-head-as-I-give-him-or-her-a-sophisticated-look' spell.

It works all the time.

Of course, in this semester, I will be in arm's length away from graduating and choosing an university to finally become an (oh no) university undergraduate, which to me, is a waste of a human's life. Alas, it is the social norm after all, so there is no way I could escape from it.

Yay to white papers with black printer ink that will give you recognition for the next two years of your life after graduation, working behind a cubicle with a colleague who farts and eats donuts while secretly watching pornography. Yay to that.

Yay to that indeed.

defection

I have finally seen everything.

In the end, the three other members of the Lai households are nothing but pro-Conservatives, pro-Pacifists whose life lessons include earning more money, earning more money, and as what any stereotype would view an Asian family, pro-academics. Academics mean all, and business related courses are everything. No one in this family should ever do anything that they want, but be constrained in bonds and bonds of social norms, which can only be defeated by scissors made of gold and silver. 

What love! What kinship! What lies! What parodies!

In the end, justice is hidden under a layer of fierce loyalty to pro-life, to pro-pacifism, to saluted kinship that is tightly knit together by silk and cashmere. 

"Love your sister!" Love my sister when she does not love me?

"Love your mother!" Love my mother when she thinks of me as a jerk, as a person whose life is based on colorful pictures of postcards?

"Love money!" Love money when it is nothing but papers that form a double-edged sword?

"Love me!" Love you when you do not even accept that small flaw that I have?

Oh, Family. For once in my life, you disappoint me.

For once in my life, you lost me.

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The direction of the eye

So misleading

The defection of the soul

Nauseously quick

I don't question

Our existence

I just question

Our modern needs

What do we really need in our lives? More money? More fame? More time?

I just want comfort. That is all I ever asked for. If that is not enough, then I do not know what is.

caught in a landslide

Wake up the dawn and ask her why
A dreamer dream she never dies
Wipe that tear now from your eye
Slowly walking up the hall
Faster than a cannon ball
Where were you when we were getting high?

Someday you will find me
Caught beneath a landslide
With champagne supernova in the sky
Someday you will find me
Caught beneath a landslide
With champagne supernova in the sky

One of the best Oasis songs in their catalog, and one that just speaks to everyone, even when 'champagne supernova' could mean anything. Great, great song.


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

Whatever reasons you may have, from strict families to your same chants of 'I can't just fight!', this is getting out of hand.

I do not know what is in your mind, but your adherence to inflexibility is beyond my understanding. I cannot comprehend why your words do not constantly match your actions. It takes consistency to maintain a relationship, a plateau in a words-match-action graph invisibly hidden but graspable meter that is present in every couple's mind.

Maybe it is because I am born in a semi-Western influenced family, where independence is a norm, or maybe it is just because I just do not know what you are doing at all. You talked the talk, you walk the walk. It is as simple as that. It takes even the likes of Guy Fieri to notice the amount of inconsistencies in the graph.

Your take on authority is commendable, but inflexible. Perhaps one day, just one day, you might realize that your parents will never be able to control your own life, and you can actually choose a path in your life, a road where both you and your parents are satisfied with, one that can you yourself could control.

This is no chicken soup, but I plead you, I beg you, please, please, for once, make one decision that you are happy with and bloody stick with it.

Please?


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

I cannot wait for this sodding holiday to be over and get out of this slump I am in right now. These past few days have taken a toll in me, and I do not have the pleasure to be genuinely happy anymore.

Thank you, You. Without you, I would not have remembered how being in a relationship during student days could produce so much angst and disappointment, with a teeny-tiny serving of anger.

Oh, Life. Welcome back.

thoughts on 2012

Oh, it's 2013?

Nice.

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

Just reread my previous post. It was a blog post that was of the standards of MacDonald's burger and fries. Never will I ever write a blog post on a late midnight ever again.

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

I lived, and lived terribly.

To say I am happy about the events in 2012 was an overstatement. There were many moments where I wished I could have contributed more or make drastic changes to the words that came out of my mouth, but alas, there would never be a time machine to turn back the clock. I am never the best of men out there, and I realize that. It was not that I did not want to strive to be one in this particular year; it was just simply too difficult to be the 'best of me'. 

What is the 'best of me'? What is 'the best decision'? What is 'justice begetting crime', Mr Rey? 

Maybe one day, just one day, this young, underachieving man would understand.

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

Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones and John Bonham, thank you. Thank you so, so much.