The attack of the lard ass

Slept at 9am and woke up around 11am. I was kinda contemplating whether to take the 12pm bus to college and just wait in the library till 2pm before I see my lecturer, or to take the 2pm bus and hopefully get there by 2.10pm max.

I've always had hard times trying to drag my lard ass out of bed, especially with all the sleep deprivation I'm putting myself through. So yeah, I ended up going back to bed but my guilt kept me awake every 10-15mins. So no, it wasn't a good sleep.

Finally managed to pull myself up at 1.15pm and I'm now multitasking; blow-drying my hair and typing. And it's already 1.45pm...

... and now it's officially... 1.55pm!!!

Gotta run!!!

Being cherries. I mean, cheery.

I just realized that I haven't posted much on the usual normal stuff which I used to blog about. This whole blogspot is like a depression hole! *shivers*

Rave was just saying earlier that the whole black background gives the impression of a dark and morbid atmosphere. Perhaps that was my intention. Or else why did you think I chose this template? Because I was going for the gothic look? Pfftt please... *rolls eyes*

Anyways, I was drowning myself in this whole emotional thing for weeks already and it IS killing me inside. I need more happy people dancing around in tutus and brightly coloured leotards to surround with to over-shadow this whole morbid feeling I'm carrying around. Reminds me of the faceless shadow in "Spirited Away".

There's so much that I want to write about but too bad my camera's not here with me at the moment, and it's no fun when there's no pictures to show. *pouts* Okay.. I was just being silly back there. Don't get a heart attack because I can assure you that I don't pout in real-life... unless I know you very well and I'm trying to annoy the shit out of you.

Actually it was all thanks to *cough Rave cough* that I was reminded about our little weekend getaway to Cameron Highlands last Friday. It was some serious fun we had there. Just the three of us. Kenny, Rave and yours truly. :]

Dang! I really want to write about it right now... but I guess it'll be better to do it when I get back my camera on Monday. Have patience~ Patience~ Patience~ Omm~

Dissimulate

Cylinder
Beautiful cylinder
Idiotic
In so many
too many ways
But still
It's beauty
carefully sculptured
Retained deep within
So deep
In my delirious mind

Once
Twice
It keeps me sane
From
Commas
Dashes
Periods
Jumbled letters
From
People
Feelings
Emotions
Delusions
Slowly vanishing
So slowly
Beautifully crafted
Into swirls and circles

Like a goddess
Bringing out
the best
the worst
Still...
providing
Sanity
Solitude
Even if
Like driving
So fast
So grievious
Almost (but still not so)
Life-threatening

Blue Skies and Broken Hearts

I smile
with pure happiness
when the bird sings
when the grass is green
And when I turn around
When you look at me <3

xoxo 19/98

*crumples*

Turtledoves
Mistletoes
Twelve months
of patient waitings
All of that for just
one day
Was it worth it?

Prams and cribs
Nurseries
and teddies
Nine months
of painful waitings
All of that for just
one day
Was it worth it?

Tears
Laughters
Night skies
and unruffled sheets
Lost count
of silent waitings
All of that for just
one day (to come?)
Is it worth it?

Unspoken

Just finished reading a friend's post and it actually made me think back of the times when I didn't sound out what I thought should've been voiced out. Perhaps the word "should" is not exactly the most appropriate one to be used, but then again maybe it is.

I've always been the type who cares about people's emotions; maybe not successfully at all times but I do try not to be offensive. Sometimes up to the point that it annoys "me". But I guess it's just me; old habits die hard.

Everyone builds their own ways of going through life based on their own principles. Some are the type who thinks that they can selflessly allow themselves to be hated as long as the people they care about will change for the better. For me, I will sound out if I think it isn't right, but if the person still refuses to change then I won't be the one to be reminding at all times; but I will be there to be on the lookout with a first aid kit so that if the person were to fall and bleed too much to the verge of dying then only I shall help him up. In short, I will allow the person whom I care to run around, fall and hurt himself, and if possible try to find his own first aid kit, but I won't allow to see him bleed to death.

Anyways, there's this friend of mine who does give me the impression of being a little too straight-forward sometimes; the type who wouldn't bend much (or at all) for the sake of simpatico. I have tried sounding it out but the reply given wasn't exactly what I had in mind, at least not from a person like this. So I guess I more or less just left it at there then, as I didn't feel that by reminding people of their wrong-doings at all times was the most comfortable way of handling things for both parties. Sometimes it's necessary for someone to learn things on their own; build themselves up in a way no one else could.

Now when I look back, perhaps it wasn't exactly the best way of being a friend by not sounding out at that time. But then again, my intentions weren't of evil ones and the conscience was clear and the outcome was exactly of what I was hoping for. So yeah, it does makes me feel pretty darn good in a way. At least to know that what I did at that time which seemed to look selfish, even to myself, was not exactly the worst thing in fact. I guess sometimes we just have to believe and have patience and never to lose hope. It wasn't easy, especially when the whole guilty conscience comes up trying to bug me from time to time, but I was lucky to be able to overcome that feeling.

Gardens and Mazes

Sometimes I can feel myself spiralling down so fast that I couldn't even grab on something for support. I don't expect sympathy from others; neither do I want any. All I'm hoping for is some empathy and time for self-recovery. If only things were that simple then perhaps all those long forgotten pictures would've been taken down; instead of being left on the walls to be covered with thin layers of dusts.

They are some which can be revealed while others are just meant to be stored in old chests. Photographic memories could be so painful sometimes. They make you feel like a pool being pimpled by rain drops; the ripples causing a shaky effect which traumatises the being.

Going to college still gives me the feeling of rolling into a new town at times; unsettling and awkwardly silent. Maybe this is the time to see a shrink to get some much needed help.

A good pair of chucks and a friend

I just got off the phone with my friend after a three hours conversation which started from 3am. I miss talking to her. I miss having her around. I miss her retardness. I miss making fun of her. I miss those days we spent in Cameron Highlands and the meal of healthy steamboat with the rest of our friends.

I can't believe how much I miss having my high school friends around. We've all gone down our own paths but still there's always something unmistakably familiar about each one of us everytime we talk again. It's like this pair of shoes which you just can't seem to throw away no matter how old and torn it is. There's always a funny kind of comfort in those pair of shoes.

Sometimes friends are really like shoes. They all look pretty on the outside when it's all still brand new and unworn. It takes a little while from wearing them then only you can tell the ones which hurts from the ones which are comfortable. And you'll be surprised how far you can go with the comfy ones. Another similarity between friends and shoes is that it's not everyday where you come across a perfect fitted one.

Of the A-B-C's of a Procrastinator and Blogging

Like any usual Sundays, I was in this holiday/weirdly-worrying-for-no-apparent-reason mood. It has been this way for as long as I can remember. Fridays are the best; then Saturday will be the day where the line "Ahh.. It's only Saturday so I still have tonight to start with my work (which for some reason never happens)"; Then it's "Ahh.. I'll just sleep and do my work tomorrow for it's only Sunday". And when Sunday rolls in, you'll just keep pushing it away until it's FINALLY Sunday night! THEN only you'll start panicking and all that mindfucks you get on Sunday's but STILL end up managing to live through it and only start the work on the ghostly hours of Monday.

Dad is always saying that THAT is what's leading to my failure. Spoken like a true Papa.

Anyways, I was talking to a friend recently about this whole blogging frenzy and the whole weeks conversation had consisted of nothing which doesn't involve the "B" word which also includes of hearing them contemplating about what to blog on.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I find it annoying when people do that, it's just that it's funny to see why do some take blogging as a serious daily affair; like the bible to a staunch one. Yes, although I do admit that I am one of those who would ponder for hours on the grammar part alone of a piece of writing; where a semi-colon or a comma will take me hours to decide just to make sure that it will set the whole piece in the perfect ambiance, to the point of annoying the crap out of others. It's just that this whole blogging scene has somehow given people the idea of wanting to sell their philosophies through their writing, more than the purpose of sharing thoughts through conversation-triggering pieces.

Perhaps that's one of the reasons why sometimes I would rather much prefer to keep quiet and just listen to what is been said than to be the one talking all the time. Contrary to the sayings such as, "speak up and be heard"; "speak up or you will never be heard"; or "the bird which chirps gets the worm".. well actually I kinda made up the last one out of excessive brain juice flows. Anyways, what I meant was I prefer to only speak up when I want to be heard. Maybe it's all those years of Dad's nagging about me talking too much and all those "In order to be a good speaker, you must first be a good listener". I guess it really did get to me in a way. Or perhaps it's the lack of people to click with which kinda makes me not wanting to talk much.

I hope it's not like what a friend of mine said, "Maybe it's that we're getting older..."

Disclaimer: The quotation above has been edited so that it appears simpatico with the whole idea.

P/s: The whole writing was done at 3am so please pardon the illogical flow.

Dad, why are the people black?

As usual, I was going on on my daily dosage of blog-reading and a friend of mine who just started Blogger recently had to "migrate" over to Xanga since his account was totally screwed up. So I was going through his new blog as I was expecting some new posts in there; turns out that he just copied and pasted the existing ones from Blogger.

Anyways, since there was nothing better to do and I WAS already in his page, I just went and explored around everything which could be.. explored. As I was going through his profile, he actually had "Cambodia" under the column of "places travelled". It was kinda surprising actually because this friend gave me the impression of the "high-maintainence-traveller" air around him, especially after we had a conversation once about me wanting to travel to Thailand and Mexico and those kind of low-budget/back packing trips where there's a lot of walking to be done. And he mentioned that he didn't like countries like that.

So being the usual skeptical-self, I turned around and asked him about it and this was how it went:

Me: Hey! I didn't know that you've been to Cambodia!

He: Yalar! I was really young back then. (THAT explains a lot)

Me: Cool! So how was it there? (Really enthusiastic coz I've always loved countries like these)

He: Erm.. I can't really remember actually. All I remembered was that the cows were white and the people were black.

Me: 0.o"

And then the next 15 minutes consisted of me laughing and snorting and laughing somemore.

He: Geez.. What's so funny about it?!! I was still young lar at that time! All I could remember was that the cows were really white and the people were all black.. I could't understand why lar at that age!

Unfortunately, his little defensive speech only made me appreciate of how priceless this friend was. I shall now walk away from the conversation and continue with my snort laughters till I die from over-twisted-guts-and-intestines syndrome. Have a nice day!

Of summer winds and silence

Something unexpected took place today. I was going through some articles and poems of a friend's friend and somewhere between those lines, it actually brought back a lot of memories and thoughts and feelings which I had tucked away at a safe corner for quite sometime now. It feels like they're back to haunt the present.

I'm not sure if it's bad or not, but it was really disturbing. It's like a part of me which I tried to bury alive is now digging up from it's own grave. It creeps up from it's aged grave and it kills you slowly inside. It feels like something inside you is slowly dying. You're not sure from what exactly, but all you can do is feel the dead feeling seeping in little by little; up to the point where you feel that emptiness from the hole that the ghost has eaten up when it's too late and too painful to even feel anything anymore.

Regardless of how harmful it is to allow myself to drown in this, sometimes there is some kind off sick comfort in it.

I'm just going to spin Phil Campbell in the player and hopefully it will kick those effing ghosts back to where they belong.. for the time being.

Of Dona Maria and Phil Campbell

It's 3.55am and my eyes are still wide open. I can't seem to swing my routine back to the one's of a human anymore.. at least not for these few days. There's been too much going on in my head right now.

It's freaky how the society has turned to blogging as their source of ranting out their anger, happiness, complains etc... So I have fallen into this category of people who seem to have a better deal with releasing those mindfucks into cyberspace as well. Maybe it's just a psychological thing.. I'm not sure really. Sometimes I get the feeling that people are just putting things into their own "psychological terms" and think that they know something something about the subject. But then again, who am I to say whether are these people right or wrong? I'm just putting my two cents into something unimportant anyways so I don't really want to think much about this.

It's funny how sometimes I tend to fall into a position where I stuff my emotions into this capsule and catapult it into the air aimlessly and just let it fall wherever it falls. Then I only worry about it when I come across it when I come across it. It's bad I know. I don't need someone to tell me that it's not the best way to handle stuff but for some odd reason, sometimes it's just more comfortable handling our issues in our own way although we know very well that it's just not right. I don't know. Maybe it's that I'm addicted to making stupid mistakes. Maybe there's some kind of sick fun in it. =/

I can see myself blabbering away now. Better get some sleep before I die in front of the computer. Night.

I was not born a loser.. Something just went wrong when I reached puberty age

So I haven't exactly been the most consistent blogger, especially in Blogger. Not when there's the convinience of doing so in Friendster. But I have to admit, there's something about Blogger which makes it different. It's just like comparing a school uniform with a dress; they're both dresses yet so different in so many ways. In our Malaysian turqouise uniform-dress, there are boundaries and limitations to everything you do while you're in it. Whereas with a normal dress, who cares what the heck you're doing when you're dressed casually? That didn't sound exactly the way I intended it to be, but it's something between those lines.

Anyways, a friend recently asked me about blogspot and it actually reminded me that "Hey! I still have another place to blog besides the one provided in Friendster!" So yeah, the rest was history.

I was reading my older posts in my Friendster blog and I can't believe that THAT was me! I would have kicked "me" in the ass without any hesitation! *shudders* Update later after I've finished reminiscing over my old entries.

p/s: And also after I'm done dunking my own head into the toilet bowl and flush it a million times to get rid of all the embarrassing stuff I wrote.