Thursday, November 24, 2005

Thinking Once Again

I solemnly swear to not rely on thinking that my writing will be safe when typed directly into blog-entry box. Because Firefox failed me. And all gone. All gone, ye read me????

Back to trusty Notepad and Ctrl+S after every few paragraphs. Pffftt.

Today there was a seesaw on my head. One side is giddy happiness and the other is gloomy sadness.And the riders were bloody active. They played from morning till night. It's like cartoon, you know? Jerry bonking Tom with a club (and please, bonking as in 'whack!' and NOT the other... 'bonk' =D). It's like *BONK!* Tom becomes a gentle wussy pussycat. *BONK!* Back to normal. *BONK!* Here nice kitty kitty kitty... BLOODY BRAIN YOU'RE CONFUSING ME!!!!

Or is it my heart? Heart disguising as brain and vice versa?

Hot cold hot cold hot cold, if objects would crack, what about humans?

Why when I think that everything is finally alright and the opposite will come whooping the air out of my stomach? It takes a moment to breathe again. I think simple things in a complicated way. Many a times, I cannot describe emotions nor my thoughts. what I really want. Maybe it's just jumbledness in disguise.

Let me attempt anyway.

I feel like life is getting boring. I feel that as a friend, I'm not good enough. I feel and know that what I do is not up to my standard and it's depressing. I feel that I've gone more selfish and less kind. And I'm feeling exceptionally tired at my ineptness in dealing with... everything, really.

Hmmm... What else.

I feel that I should stop eating Oreos (double stuffing) because I'm getting fat. It's the cookie that's nice though.


Polaroid transfers are effin' cool. Oh sorry, mind wandered there. Am 5 days into my four mths holiday and am a bit reluctant to work, but the moolah is needed. Work for money? Or experience? It's just fuel for my interests. And of course, own money = less burden on haggard parents. Sigh. I'll job-hunt next week then.

Going off, as bro wanna use my pc. And curiously, am feeling rather fatigued after midnight... very curious for a night owl like me.

Oyasuminasai, minna-san.


Sunday, November 20, 2005

Love is love

[rant below related to recent hoo-has over the marriage (legally not) which the wife was a man before, and those who oppose it]
[those who dunno wtf I'm talking abt: here]

Alright, I'm getting rather pissed off at those stubborn idiots.

Don't they get it? By stripping them of their human qualities and just labelling them a sinners or transexuals (btw, I do NOT think that these two has any bloody relation to each other), they would rather DENY these people, human beings who are trying to be themselves (hence be happy), their rights and prefer to subject them to discrimination. To a job, to marriage etc.

And also from a newspaper, they can't get health insurance, can't get loans, can't buy a house, can't adopt a child, nor be admitted to a women's ward in hospital. So many CAN'Ts hor? WAIT---!!! they CAN be subjected to arrest for cross-dressing. *smack head* Mada faka...

So you would rather let them suffer, by both legally and personally, reminding them that by being who they are, it's bad. Sinful. Please wallow in self-hatred and don a mask. I don't like you because you're unlike me.

Man, it really boils my blood when I saw this:

"Datuk Seri Harussani Zakaria, Perak State Mufti, said there is no such thing as a man trapped in a woman’s body in Islam.

“If you are born male, you are a male. A boy may start to feel like a girl due to his surroundings when he was growing up. Perhaps his parents wanted a daughter so badly that they dressed up him as a girl when he was young.

“Or the boy, being the only son, was influenced by the feminine behaviour of his sisters. That could also happen if the boy grew up in a household of women with no strong male figure,” said Harussani when asked to comment on Islam’s view on transsexuals."

Good grief! How close-minded can you be? How could you be so blinded to reality?

Let me tell you a story. My uncle grew up in a typical chinese family of macho men. But ever since young, he'd play with dolls, carry around teddy bear bags, wear girl clothes... He's also very gentle and more feminine than his mom. his family TRIED to boy-ify him, but to no avail (take that Datuk Seri!). And yes, he was and is subjected to many ridicules, even from his own father.

That Uncle of mine has since turned Auntie. Very pretty; fair, slim and all. Yea, I'm a bit what?

Now back to boiling my blood.

Sinner? I COULD argue that there are robbers, rapists, abusers, murderers, liars, con artists and so on, that are far worse than what they deem transexuals as. Now that I think of it, the idiots are producing barriers for a group of people who are trying to lead normal lives... so are they not sinners themselves?

*imagine scheming crooked-nosed witch plotting behind darkened windows*

Do you really think by making things hard for them that you will succeed in suppressing future 'trannies'? You really underestimate the complexity of human souls. Or maybe it's really simple and you're just making it complex.

To the staunch and obstinate peeps: I'm not asking you to be flexible. I'm asking you to be human.

To the recently married couple: Congratulations! To Joshua who loves her regardless and Jessie who is brave enough to be who she is.

Friday, November 18, 2005

I'm in love

....with Michael Buble's Save the Last Dance for me. Hahah, tricked ya, didn't i?

I have never heard a song, that provokes a nerve reaction to my legs, giving them dreams of dancing across the hall.

At least mine did... around the confines of my room anyway. Not to mention the confines of the length of my headphones' wires, hahaha. Imaginary dance partner (... t-shirt) and all.

Keep replaying it on my Winamp. Romance, bittersweet memories, the idea of just being near someone you love, beaches, disco ball lights whirlwind in the hot tub. And oh, also Justin and Brian waltzing into my brain, at Justin's prom. Brian wrapping his white scarf around Justin and pulling him closer...

One of the most romantic moments I've ever seen on a TV show.

Now *cough* that's all i'll say on it, before I turn into a mushy mashed potato human being. But I'm feeling all love love now, I dunno why. I blame it on that song.

You can dance-every dance with the guy
Who gives you the eye,let him hold you tight
You can smile-every smile for the man
Who held your hand neath the pale moon light
But don't forget who's takin' you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darlin' save the last dance for me

Oh I know that the music's fine
Like sparklin' wine,go and have your fun
Laugh and sing,but while we're apart
Don't give your heart to anyone
But don't forget who's takin' you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darlin' save the last dance for me

Baby don't you know I love you so
Can't you feel it when we touch
I will never never let you go
I love you oh so much

You can dance,go and carry on
Till the night is gone
And it's time to go
If he asks if you're all alone
Can he walk you home,you must tell him no
'Cause don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darling,save the last dance for me

'Cause don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darling,save the last dance for me
Save the last dance for me
Save the last dance for me.

The first lines of the song =
. Tugs my heart strings and gets brain to think of warm arms.

Madie's asleep on my floor next to me, while Milo's on my bed, pillow. I don't dare to roll my chair because I might run over her tail. (<-- happened numerous times *swt* ). I'm a total messy hippo, and my comforter's on the floor with my dog. Some people will scream in horror over that, but then again I'm not too much on cleanliness, an apparently bad trait for a result of a XY chromosome. I sayang them so much. I especially love burying my face in Madie's fur. I don't think I'll ever call anyone baby without thinking of them.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

It's comforting

Currently am at my cousin's place, in Cyberia on the 5th floor. And yep alone since am here just to watch her abundance of TV series and anime collection XD. I handed in my final assignment(video) today~~!!!!! HURRAH!!! Four mths of holiday...Gimme 2 weeks and I'll be wanting to return to coll =/.

It rained just now, I didn't realised it as am on headphones.... It's really nice... Evening has just slipped in and you could hear and see the rain. Very comforting and made me smile.

That's all I want to say, kthxbai.

Monday, November 14, 2005


i fucking hate it when people threaten me. my handicap is your weapon? just because i don't know how to do something and your help is necessary and you brandish that fact everytime i do something that you do not agree? that's just low.

thanks a lot man! you fucking ruined my mood for the next 12 hours. people could say, let it be. what's the point of being mad? reminds me of someone who'd tell me, it's necessary to let go, anger is just a illusion.

well, it won't be an illusion once i kill that idiot with my bare hands.

seriously, no lah. i don't staining my hands with blood or else i'll turn into lady macbeth.

but at times, really cannot take it. these people are making me into a timebomb.

lack of sleep thus piss-offness is teethering on sheer rage.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Eunice Lee

We often see news of death in the papers. As the article progresses, there'd be the deceased's love ones telling how good, kind, caring he/shewas before the End blackened the horizon for the victim. And we'd tsk-tsk for a moment, feel sad for a moment.

And that's it. Really. We don't know them except for that three lines of column-shortened sentences in one article.

We don't feel much because all we have proof of her/his life is in the words of others.

But when it's their own words... their own words on how their life were before the End. A glimpse of life before the mortality-clock stops. A Vibrant Soul suddenly coughed, choked and died. Fullness becomes Emptiness. Elvis has left the building. This gnawing feeling is in my chest that I can't seem to shake off for the moment.

If you've been following Malaysian news, you'd know of Eunice Lee's death. She's only 18. She's a Straight-A student and participated in this year's Seventeen competition. She studied in Maluri Secondary School, TAR College and KDU. An active Rotaract member and a recipient of The Star Education Fund.

Black and white, and printed to millions.

Then a stumble into her blog. One blog that will never be updated again. That little peek is heartbreaking.

26th September 1987 ~ 19th October 2005
Eunice, I do not know you, but may you rest in peace... More than 500 people attended your memorial, that's your footprints carved in stones.

My mother commented it was such a pity. Furthermore she's a Straight-A student.

Is it really?

Is that how we measure a life's worth?

What's behind your smile?

"Knowing that I'm alive. Every day is full of surprises and I'm excited to know what can happen in a matter of 24 hours!" Eunice Lee Cay Shing, 17, Seventeen Cover Girl Search 2005

Saturday, November 05, 2005

My bum's gotten flatter

Ladies and gentlemen. Invisible and invincible beings. Mr Air and Mrs Dust.

In the past week, my bum's been superglued to mah chair. The owner of this bum has also been spotted chugging chinese tea and michael jackson drink (soya + cincau) down along with cheese, chocolate, peanuts, mentos, oreos and other random tidbits. Occasionally her father would toss in a lil' bottle of chicken essence.

And MAN, I screwed up my time. Seriously. People would be getting ready to go out of lunch and I'd be, Mmmmmm...bed.... *cue zombie-walking*

During dinnertime, I'd wake up and say, "What's for lunch?"

And I won't sleep for long either, I sleep about an average of 4 hours. Sometimes I can't even keep track whether if I've eaten or not etc.

No wonder I haven't been feeling good lately. T.T

This happens when you've been lazy for the past weeks. THREE assignments cramped into 10 days of work! Used up about 5 days for my 3D, 2 for my video (which, according to 4 out of 5, is sleep-inducing and uncomperehensible *cries*) and the rest for my 2D animation. And 1/4 of the time is just me trying to get used to the controls and stuff.

... and my video is abstract-based, dammit!!! I like watching movies like Virgin Suicides and Not One Less and all those slow movies people deem boring! But mine is like, worse, lol. Haih. My fault for being overambitious and cramping too many scenes into 5 minutes.

But justifying my movie won't make a lot people like it so... like LC said, if it's bad, just treat it like a lesson; it's a risk I took and failed. Oh well, yea, lesson learnt, and will NOT make abtract films. Ever again. I should tweak the video a wee bit more, but can't be bothered. Am much more lax this sem, last sem I was working my ass off nonstop to get a handful of A's but this sem? More to enjoying this short college life. Ergh, was a total bitch + anal retentive person last sem.

BTW, just kidding about giving up on a type of film. I'm just grumpy, sleepy and sad. Gimme candy.

Here's my finished AND presented work for two of my classes (we had to do postcards, front and back, based on a quote, lyric, etc). Some, not all.

Like a phoenix you rise from the ashes - Vienna Teng Eric's Song

How can a bird that is born for joy, sit in a cage and sing? - William Blake The Schoolboy

I'm not suffering from insanity; I enjoy every minute of it.
(and yes, this is me, with drag-queen elements. the other 'model' is kezia, my friend-> top postcards)

All the pictures inside are taken by me in a combined two hours walk around my neighbourhood. The pics were pretty dull, BUT Photoshop = Magic.

Enough procrastinating, for am getting really lazy. Awaiting the 4 months of hols with the eagerness of an excited child... but I think it'll really be boring hor. Maybe I'll take up a hobby. Or two.

Back to my animation and chugging chinese tea.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Ardent pursuer

the smell of stale rice permeating the air of your life. The case of opening a door and the same smell bursts out, whooshing over the space between your fingers, between each strand of hair and it fills, fills your nostrils, seeping into every cell in your body and its murky tendrils creep toward towards your brain.

Overwhelms, nauseates.


My ardent pursuer.

When I speak, you turn your back, whistling to the wall.

When you speak, you even expect the friggion' dusts to listen to your shit.

This bubble of acid that you supplied don't hold long, it drips, with absolute potential.

Keep your insults to yourself. I'm tired of smiling while you pull the chair from beneath me.

Everytime I see you, every single wrong done to me, it swirls in confusion and merges like layers into You were the teacher who hurled words like daggers right in my face. You were the one who pushed me down and ran away skipping and laughing. You were the one who stroked her hand after you struck her down. You were the one smiling smugly expecting your verbal shit to be worshiped.

Goddammit, I'm not Dalai Lama.

Hold back, don't breathe. The stars are strolling onto the platform. my heart on the stage and my mind in the back. I gave way to the current boss. It's all there is, folks, before curtain call, but this heart is a doll and the mind, a puppeteer. Prim, proper heart, coated with the shell of the mind, wanting to burst but hold, hold back. Don't panic. Don't fear. Don't rage.

Don't breathe.