In the Midst of Looking and Quitting

The Grey Area In The Head

2011-09-03T06:54:00.003+08:00

Bro. Am I busy? Sure does.

You can tell it’s true by the total lack of posting here. It’s not that I don’t care but if I can’t give any positive insights on anything that I perceive on, I don’t see the necessity to write it here. I don’t enjoy giving people negative vibes. It’s like assuring people that I’ll give them the potion they needed but give them something worse eventually. You wouldn’t want that. Neither do I.

I’ve been thinking. Always dangerous, I know. I have a couple of projects or should I say ideas/proposals that I’m wondering where to put. I think being with the right people is important. It requires determination, perseverance and that little bit of luck. I learnt something from ‘Sudin’, a character that I acted in the drama series, ‘Balik Sekolah’. Sure, I don’t want to be him. Not in a million years. But I learnt from ‘him’ the perseverance factor that I’ve been lacking of. It’s always nice when I get to learn something from the character that I’ve acted on. It builds me up, one way or another. But, say, what if someone is tearing you down so that he can builds oneself up? I don’t quite understand why it must be so. Do you?

Say, I often don’t admit my sleepless nights ever since my father went away. When I have, I invariably experience a weird kind of happiness from the other person, a “fuh, she was wrong after all!” and it’s worse that that coz some people do desperate, bad, mean, horrible and hateful things to bury their insecurities.

Because of that, I don’t share easily. I don’t trust easily. I’ve been told I’m laid back, quite confident and friendly, I tend to let things flow. It’s not that I don’t have my opinions and insecurities – enough that I wonder how I hide them well enough to be considered laid back, confident, even.

After years of fighting others’ insecurities, like a disease, I try hard not to let my insecurity run my life. I’ve seen the horrible effect it has on ordinarily nice people. It’s sad to see them in such state. It’s like a demon inside, insidious and hateful. A cancer that destroys kindness. And it’s catching. I’d say money is not the root of all evil. Insecurity is the root of all evil. Coz what people do when reminded of their insecurities?

Everybody together now and shout: They go all righteous on your ass. :)

But we need insecurity. Because the big thing we don’t admit, the secret many of us do desperate, bad, mean, horrible and hateful things to hide, is that insecurities are supposed to plague us. Without insecurity to balance out our natural survivalist egos, we would be assholes. Oh… well, we just got to accept it. Just don’t let it run our life.

Some said religion is the root of all evil. Come on people. People would always find another excuse to fight. True, some people wield religion like a weapon. But a gun doesn’t pull its own trigger and you can kill with a cooking knife. These same people seem to need rules and boundaries to hem others in, to keep themselves feeling safe.

I’m not much for rules and boundaries. And I’ve said before, my faith makes me a better person. It reminds me of the simple lessons of common decency. I’ll be quiet when one points their insecurity. Quietly praying for them.

Eid Mubarak to you.

Reversing The Banausic

2011-03-08T05:11:00.003+08:00

Banausic
1. Merely mechanical; “a sensitive, self-conscious creature... in sad revolt against uncongenially banausic employment”
2. Of or relating to a mechanic.
3. Ordinarily or not refined

Nearly perfect. It's always heartening to find a good word. My favorite is when the word has multiple definitions and all of them fit; all of them contribute to your current need. Banausic doesn't quite work that way, but it seems to be how things are going for now. Nothing is excellent. It's just... going. Routine.

I'm rather at a still point, I suspect. Nothing bad in particular has happened; I'm just set on coast. Work is good, soccer is average, smoke is decreasing by the days and I'm working out again (running that is).

It's not all deliriousness, of course. I haven't been out in awhile, and no one seems to want to go(or maybe it is me who don’t). The swollen gum decided to join in the fun with tonsillitis, migraine and flu bug last weekend. It could be that I'm still feeling low from my own three weeks of sickness that seems to be dragging on. My voice is still not completely there, but I'm able to sing along with the music on MTV(badly) and I answer the phone more often than not.

I've rearranged the books on my shelf. I'm catching up (again) on the bank statements. I've written a pretty good short story lately which stretched my own social and writing mores (the one piece that doesn't seem to raise my ire at my own inability.) I bought a few good books to read. I bought new stuffs for the house and I'm getting a fresh coat of white paint on all the trim in my house--a much needed, yet significant, expensive undertaking. But still... I'm obviously needing to organize or shake things up, because that petty shit isn't working.

I think it's that life is set on a roller coaster while I'm shifting through still shots.

It's because of the work, of course, though I haven't paid nearly enough dues to feel this way. I haven't received any recent major rejections; I haven't been scoffed or derided. Not sure on the back though. I'm writing, every day. But right now cleaning the house looks fun in comparison. Everything I do is shit. All my past work seems to be shit, as well--rife with stupid mistakes and missed opportunities.

I realize it's as simple as perception slanted by temperament. Why else would one day I love my work and the next hate it so? But the real question that nags is which slant is correct? Is the mirror right or is my perception correct? In other words, if it truly is shit, then why proceed? (Well, I know I would continue to do what I do--that'd be like stopping the tides) But I could give up on "the dream" I suppose. I wouldn't submit happily, but it's not as if IT is all I've got in my life. I'm extremely fortunate by any standard. The best mom, two great sisters(still enjoying in Dubai), good buddies, blah blah blah...

Only, I can't. I can't feature a future without it, or actually many, in print. I suspect this is when the tough get going?

And so, this is why I'm so still. So eh. Over damn work.

I’m reversing the banausic. Still. With still shots hanging over my head and one shot to the night sky. Happy reading.

Raise Your Glass

2011-02-04T06:31:00.003+08:00

I suppose I should write something this week. As one of my readers pointed it out, I think many a time before I write. True. In fact, I’d love to write almost daily. I just need to get rid of the biasness of certain topics that I’m clinging on due to the world I’m hearing or mix with. That’s the difficult part. I don’t want to write when I’m angry. Negative energy. Or I assume that a certain topic is that and that. Uh…uh… no thanks.

When one gets angry or annoyed or you know what… one tends to blurt it out all the words or actions of what may have or not caused it… as if the whole world is against him. Sometimes it comes out pretty ok but most of the times, it turns out bad enough to get the avalanche, which will come soon after. And so I skip. I’d drain my mind with work or soccer and laughter. Laughter is one hell of a medicine. I have a bunch of friends who crack me up every time we meet up. “It’s the simple life!” one may assume… but at times, assuming can be negative as well.

I assume it’s ok to assume that something good/positive for a person. I think that’s fine but to assume something bad about someone with baseless words or actions or “ I heard that from someone”… come on. Go on and do something else. Maybe try reading books. Fiction or non-fiction. Biography or autobiography. Or blogs. Whatever. You know when you start to read and you’ll get the kick out of it, you’ll want more. You’ll get connected with the writer somehow. And as the writer for this blog, topics/agendas here are important to me as a writer and of the little world I've created. It's my discovery tool.

“You want your reader to go along the discovery process with you. “

That one compliment, while it felt good, of course, led me to an important truth as a writer. I can always write something negative here. OH.. heck no, I can say it verbally instead of writing but that’s not helping. We humans have many annoying traits, not the least of which is our heartlessness when it comes to someone else's. One thing we loooove to do is to critique others or their work. It gives us a thrill to find mistakes. (See? I'm good enough to at least find them. Of course there's always that niggling thought--See? I made that mistake, too. Fuck.)

But what we aren’t often doing is pointing out the good bits. Finding the good in others’ and ourselves is as important as finding the fuck-ups. So if you are wrong in all the right ways, raise your glass. To all my underdogs, we will never be, never be anything but loud. Yes I quote this from Pink but unlike Pink, raise your glass not for me but for your own good. Let’s do it loud but with integrity. Happy Holidays. ☺

The Long Road

2010-12-31T03:11:00.004+08:00

"Can I wait for so long?
I cannot say
Oh, the precious moments...
Cannot stay
It's not like winds have fallen...
I cannot say
Without you something's missing...
I cannot say
Oh, the hands of dawn in his heart
And their face is falling down
Down, down, down...
I have wished for so long...
Now I wish for you again
Will I walk the long road?
I cannot say."
- Eddie Vedder

And so, 2010 is going. Every year, we'll always wish the upcoming year will be better. But at times, 'better' doesn't necessarily make us happy. Better in work. Better in health. Better in $$. Better in learning our mistakes. Better in appreciating our family and friends more. To be better in the society. Better as an individual. Better as a person.

So let us be better in within ourselves first and look forward to the year with a 'happy' heart! :)

The Bridge

2010-11-15T17:19:00.004+08:00

“The mind is the heartbeat of your actions.” Anonymous

Someone once told me that there used to be a bridge where people jumped off, which is another way to go.

It takes four seconds...

One…

Two…

Three…

Four…

...to hit the water. All the survivors (though they think the death rate is much higher) report that they really wanted to die when they had two feet on the bridge, but as soon as they were airborne they really wanted to live. You've got to hit the water feet first, at a slight angle. You won't be ok for sure. But you might... emphasis on might... live.

At 180-220 feet above the water, the bridge is a good place to kill yourself dead. Every two weeks or so somebody tried it, dropping 75 miles an hour for four seconds without a parachute, a life vest, or a seat belt, to die of blunt injuries four seconds later.

I've never much understood suicide. Oh sure, things are bad, and sometimes, or maybe always, the person is sick at heart and in the head. Never had a suicidal thought though.

I've always thought that killing, whether yourself or somebody else, was for crazy people. To me, convictions aren't about just guilt, they're about how sick one was. It's been convenient for me to maintain an assumption of insanity in order to put words to a complicated phenomenon. But now some things are leading me away from that theory. Maybe those of us who do not kill are the ones who are insane. Perhaps we're all death machines, in one way or another. After all, from our first breath of life, we put a foot on the rode to death.

I have read stories about death. There’s one where I realized a prime character died, greatly affecting the well-being and success of the main character. Actually, at the start of the story, the main character ‘kills’ someone. He thinks it will solve his problems. It ends up just setting those problems loose to do real damage.

The easy part is getting the reaction of the protagonist: shock, or if he's hardened, like the main character, he can mostly take it in stride. A few deaths have touched him during his journey, and I've noticed that he's become quite the old softy as the book progresses. By the time he runs across his dead ‘soldiers’ stacked in front of him, he's pretty shaken up.

More difficult to treat are the antagonists. Why do they do what they do? Why do they kill? To them killing is a means to an end, sure. But what do they want? Power? Revenge? Are they so consumed by hatred or rage that it has surpassed their humanness? Yeah. Sure. Easy to write. Difficult to comprehend. Kinda like killing=insanity. But who among us has been so threatened, so jealous, that we'd kill somebody? No one that I know.

So, me? I'd kill in self defence. I'd fight back if someone entered my home or threatened my family, and if they ended up dead, then they're dead. I've always wondered if I might kill someone, accidently, of course. But I won't commit suicide. If there's a note, I didn't write it. If there's a gun in my hand, I didn't put it in my mouth.

But I do understand that four seconds. I've jumped off that bridge before. I'm midair right now, in fact, and I know I'm going down, what with gravity and all. The seconds are ticking by, and though I had to jump again, I'm just not sure when or how I'm gonna land.

Hopefully feet first, at a slight angle.

Happy reading.

As If the Details Are Not Enough…

2010-10-21T05:09:00.004+08:00

“There are only two types of problems in this world. One is from God. To see whether we are up for the challenges ahead. The other is by us. We create those problems. Let’s try to minimise it then.” - Anonymous

I was looking at my schedule and then it struck me. I’m getting bored already. I’ve just started and I can sense the routine ahead of me. And I really don’t know how I’m gonna feel when I start to get familiar with it.

When you're really familiar with something, tiny differences render exponential results. Because there is something about routine that makes life feel completely pointless. It's like carrying around a brick of shit tied to a leash everywhere you go. It can't walk, you gotta drag it, it smells bad, sometimes you back up and step on it, and at the end of the day you look at your piece of shit and think, "Why am I carrying this around?". There is no point. And so do I feel with routine.

I lived everyday the same as the last, I am excited by nothing. Surprised by nothing. I'm merely living for the variables, the details that change from day to day, which are fleeting and equal nothing in the grande scheme of things.

But then it occured to me that I had it wrong, or mostly wrong. What does the grande scheme of things matter?

People in general are terrible at seeing the big picture. We live in a linear society, where the average person moves from detail to detail in order to see any piece of this infinite puzzle. Yet when it comes to finding meaning, people want the big picture. So we dream of big electrons in the sky and dudes with beards sitting on clouds playing chess, and I wonder, were the details not enough??

For some reason, I thought at the age of seven I should remember that moment and never forget. I remember playing in a pool of mud and having deep thoughts. I was contemplating God way back then. Whatever conclusions I came to then still shape who I am now. At the age of eight, I couldn't figure out the idea of God not having a beginning and an end when everything else around me does, including myself. I had a discussion about that with another friend who was about eight as well. Do most eight year olds talk about this stuff?

Twenty years on, I guess I figure it out. I guess few truly know what it means to stop and smell the roses. Fuck it, feel them too. Take a pedal, stick it in your mouth and chew on it. Rub them on your face. It's something different. My point is, finding meaning in life is hard, it takes skill to be happy.

One thing I have learned is that regardless of what our faults are, whether sexually, emotionally, financially, physically, or being self-righteous; we are on the same playing field with God. We all need him. That is the biggest gripe I have of being identified as a Muslim. People are naturally skeptical. I don't blame them.

I guess as things unfold as I explain my life day by day or perhaps every other blog entry by every other entry, the readers will be able to best determine if there is any difference in my life and theirs, and if they think it has anything to do with God. ;)

Interlude: For A Better New Day

2010-09-19T06:55:00.005+08:00

When you stay up for a day or two straight, the days begin to meld into one another. Not having awakening as a key to when the next day is, all you have to go by is your preconcieved notions of dawn. When it gets light out, there. That's the new day.

My friend and I invented a less confusing system than the "midnight as beginning of the new day" one currently in place by our damn Earth's rotation around the sun. See, the beginning to each new day is relative to each individual. When you wake up is when the new day has begun, not at midnight. Because who goes to sleep before midnight anymore? Maybe there is but it gets to me when you talk to someone after midnight about doing something tomorrow, and they get all smart-ass on you and say "You mean today ha ha ha ha ha". Nope. Not anymore. Tomorrow begins when you awake. And in the aforementioned case of staying up all night, the new day will officially begin at 6:00 AM, as this is around when the sun rises. Only the smart-aleck who feel the need to meticulously argue about stupid inane details will find this new system difficult. But we don't like talking to those people anyway, now do we?

One more thing. Why is it that it's a penny for your thoughts, but if one desires to put forth their opinion it is referred to as their two cents? The price doubles based on who wants the opinion to be given? Sounds like a scam to me. But, again, we don't want to talk about those things either, do we?

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to not sleeping. Gotta run. Good night.

Dawning Exposure

2010-07-22T05:56:00.006+08:00

I'm having a little trouble writing right now. I wish I could come up with some interesting excuse as to why. Oh yeah, I’m a little bored and I can’t sleep. Random thoughts about certain topics makes me go on and on writing till I think it’s distracting for people to read it and thus I need to press the delete button. Very distracting. Yep.

Hmm…. Let me think. Still thinking. Ok, got it. Here’s one for the road. The least metaphoric way that I could conjure of at this time of the day.

I’ve been thinking about Plato's forms lately. The idea that every thing that we see in our lives is an imperfect representation of some ideal thing and that somewhere in the universe there exists the perfect thing got me thinking': What would the perfect table be like?

Think about it: Tables serve their purpose well enough in their imperfect phase. You put stuff on it. Sometimes you eat off of it. That's it. The perfect table would likely not have a single scratch or dent or loose leg. It wouldn't get stained if something spilled on it. Most of the tables I’ve seen and used day to day are quite messy because I'm lazy and set shit on it. The perfect table would never be messy. Or would it? The table itself is not involved with the stuff that's on it. In a perfect WORLD, the table would never be messy, however it is simply the table itself that is messy. Would you even notice if it was a perfect table? I don't think about tables as much as this blog might make it seem, so I may be typing on the perfect table right now and not even realize it. This particular table has some scratches and dents and minor little ticks and whatnot, so this couldn't be it, but that's beside the point. If the perfect table were here on Earth somewhere, we probably wouldn't even know it. People ignore tables for the most part. The perfect table wouldn't be particularly impressive. No one would stop and realize "That table is perfect!" and meant it literally perfect!

The human mind could probably not comprehend the perfect table. Perfection is something we cannot understand because everything we come into contact with is imperfect. Plus, who wants the perfect table? Imperfect tables serve their purpose; having a perfect table would just be like having fine china that you never want to use. Or maybe since I can't comprehend the perfect table, if I were to experience it in all its glory, I would be in awe and finally realize what it means to be a table and the table-oriented part of my life would be complete.

In closing, sit with this question: Can you define "table"?

Fire Wind Water Earth

2010-06-11T04:27:00.004+08:00

I’ve been out of sorts since I wrote my last post so pardon me for not updating this blog of mine. It’s been hard these past six weeks or so and I’m not going to lie about it. Devastated. That’s the word. I’ve learnt to accept it (I’m trying my very best! ☺)since and now the sweetest memories keep playing in my head. There’s a lot of things in my head where I’d love to share… for this mind keeps working and working that I’m unable to even sleep properly but I’ll just leave it on my book of thoughts for now. Oh yes, I do have a book just for my thoughts.

I just got to write. Write anything that I see or hear that I can reflect on. That doesn’t mean I write everything I see or hear every day. Oh no. What I do is to self edit myself what I’ve seen or hear and just pick out the small little ‘grey area’, which we normally miss out. Try it. It’s pretty tedious and boring at first but when you can connect it to your life, the satisfaction I can’t even express it through words.

I have this feeling that everyone who reads this blog knows me better than people I've actually met. Good friends of mine know me pretty well because I open up to them and basically do a live-action verbal version of this blog in real time in front of them. But there are lots of people who I talk to for a day at most and then move on, and realize they now hold this impression of me, which may or may not be accurate. As I often tend to do, I could branch off into some bullshit self-questioning "Who am I?" hoopla, but I think I'll save that for later. I may not fully understand my person, but I understand better than some I meet day to day. This is mainly because I cannot really translate my personality to other people beyond simply being. On top of that, why should I?

However, this blog is pure "self". That's what's here: Me. And I'm less inhibited here because this is text, who gives a shit. I've met very few of you people, and those that I have are already friends of mine and I have a comfort level already to express myself. It's not even a comfort issue, per se, because I'm pretty comfortable in front of people, but more so the fact that there are many facets of myself that can get lost in a false first impression. I don't want to give myself away completely, or even at all to most people. Maybe. Maybe I do only tell you what I want you to hear and believe me, the same goes to you.

As for the title, the four ‘words ‘ are all up above. Digress it. ;)

For I Wish And Pretend

2010-04-28T03:28:00.003+08:00

“And it seems like yesterday it was just a dream…” B.o.B

It was not since mid March that I last wrote in this little box. It is no longer March; in fact, April is ending soon. This little box begs for letters to be in it… and I often don't comply with its wishes. It must be something incredibly exciting and resplendent to occupy my time such that I do not update this oft-abandoned blog, right? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.

I intend not to use this space simply to complain about the various things that have surfaced in my life recently. No, blogs are in no way intended to be used for petty bitching and empty negativity. No. So don't think of this particular entry as me being biased towards the melancholy. I simply need to express that which is currently troubling my gentle soul so as to prepare myself for better sailing ahead.

I guess I’m just worried sick. I have like things that constantly project themselves from my eyes and mind; they're kind of basically in command now. I recalled my mum was saying that yesterday was my late sister’s birthday. My late sister would have been 29 yesterday. I didn’t get the chance to see her and thus, I don’t have an image of her on my mind. And so, I wish and pretend. I pretend she is quite tall. Curly long hair. Big eyes with smile that just soften one’s heart in an instant. I pretend she would be the ideal elder sister. Someone that could inspire my two younger sisters and me. A role model. Huh. It’s easy to pretend something which we will never know but when we instill these thoughts to our mind, it gives the good vibes to one’s mind.

I don’t want to hope. Hope is something we humans will just cling on to the word. Like literally. And so, let me just wish and pretend things will be better in the next few days or weeks or so. For my dad and my family. For his health have not been the best at these tough times. For I miss his longing smile and his usual “high five” with my youngest sister. For I miss seeing his usual antics to ‘irritate’ my younger sister. For I miss his constant ranting whenever man utd play badly. For I miss his laughter when mum gets over excited and shout enthusiastically watching soccer. And for all that and more, I wish to see all that back. Perhaps, if my elder sister is still alive, she could handle this better than I am.

For now, let me just wish and pretend.

Rage Within A Word

2010-03-15T05:56:00.003+08:00

Conformity. What a controversial word. Let's look it up shall we?

con•form•i•ty Audio pronunciation of "conformity" ( P ) Pronunciation Key (kn-fôrm-t)
n. pl. con•form•i•ties

1. Similarity in form or character; agreement: I acted in conformity with my principles.
2. Action or behavior in correspondence with socially accepted standards, conventions, rules, or laws: conformity to university regulations.

There ain't a damn thing wrong with conforming, just know when you're doing it at least. It's the whole, once you know the rules you can break them sort of thing. So you can be cliche, as long as you apologize for it. Where the hell am I going with all this? I better stop here. heh.

On Petrol and Chlorine

2010-02-23T04:11:00.006+08:00

“Don’t go and play with the kids at the playground. They are ********.”

“We are *********. We don’t mix with those people.”

“Excuse me but I’m *********. I can’t be here!”

How someone looks, as opposed to what someone truly is, seems to be the card that lets them act in accordance with certain cultural idiosyncrasies.

As it turns out, race has nothing to do with blood and everything to do with aesthetic. Yet, rightly so – it’s the same blood across the board, right? But once upon a time there were a bunch of people living in Africa. The sun was hot and their skin got dark. Simple. Race is just the effect, both internal and external, a certain environment has on a certain group of people. There's a reason chinese have slits for eyes. Then our brain, which is very adept at picking up on patterns and grouping them, picks up on these differences so that everybody who looks a certain way is classified as being a certain race. Yet, take the eurasians who doesn't quite look the part and all of the sudden, a wrench has been thrown in the whole system. Holy shit what do we do? How should he act? It just goes to show how race is a blurred line to begin with.

In reality, race doesn't even exist. It cannot be tested for in the lab. And race in its most applicable form is semantics at the very most. In all technically, if more european and chinese came together and had enough children, they could be classified as a race. Not eurasians. Maybe eurochin. Maybe not.

The thing is I just don't agree with the way certain people tend to emphasize on race. What’s there to brag about of your race? Race is not something to be proud of, culture is. Being proud of one's own race is like saying, "hey I look different than you, go me!" And race is not to be confused with culture. Race has nothing to do with culture, they just understandably go together many times. As far as someone representing for his or her own culture, well, then it becomes a matter of how long one wants to perpetuate the imaginary lines that divide the human race for the sake of staying true to his or her own heritage. I'm looking at you, people. Can you please stop accusing people for being loud just because of their colour? Can you please stop looking down on people just because of their race? Can you please stop being so proud of your race?

The world may not be colour blind but it should be. And I don't mean that in some sort of idealistic sense, because I don't like that kind of pansy talk. I mean it in a genetic sense. I've often felt that many times, people are too quick to turn this planet into poetry; applying symbols to things and stopping at that, when reality rigidly unfolds to far greater depths. Yet it’s hard to find words to rhyme with "quantum" and "neutrino". Race is just another example of how people all too often stop digging when confronted by symbolism and appearance. And I know all this sounds like some sort of sec school rant on appearance vs. reality, but you know what… give me back my squeaky voice, give me back my pimples. We're all humans here.

Random Thought

2010-01-26T13:50:00.002+08:00

To not question is to doubt - by not questioning, you are in acknowledgment that if you did question, a contradictory answer that is not pleasing may be found and therefore, doubt by not questioning in the first place.

Mirror's Eyes

2010-01-16T04:38:00.003+08:00

I suppose one of our biggest fear would be dying alone, as if dying weren't bad enough. Just a little recognition would be nice. A little mourning. I don't think I'm the first one to imagine what my own funeral would be like. I'd be watching in from above, listening to what kind words people have to say about me, everyone weeping uncontrollably, even the little babies would be crying, or maybe they just wanted their pacifier.

But I wonder how many of those people in the crowd would have truly understood me. It is such a liberating form of recognition; to be understood. To know another sees more than just a part, is drawn in by more than just some appealling mannerisms, or looks, even if they can't relate to it or understand the whys. I hope it’s going to be a great weekend, an excellent weekend, but hanging in between, my moments of pointless flirting and unintelligability was a thought. Just give me a nice setting, a cigarette box, some coffee, and someone to connect with sitting across from me. I’d be content with that.

We wouldn't need to be talking about profound things, by all means flirt a little, leave your brain at the door and don't look back. But I love the feeling I get when in the presence of someone I see eye to eye with. There is so much unspoken understanding and mutual acknowledgement. I'll crack a smile when carefully selected words hint at some grand understanding, as if precisely behind these symbols, tangled in some abstract mess where words serve no justice, a beautiful connection between two people lies.

I'm starting to hate this post because I'm basically saying that despite all my friends and all the fun I have, there's a part of me that just wants someone to connect with, and even more, to call my own. That doesn't sounds right. Maybe I'm just trying to find some closure to my past. Or perharps, we all just want to find closure to our past? As one points out, “The past is a reminder for us to be better in the future.”

For a start, maybe I’ll just smile. Smile like I mean it...

Note From The Past

2010-01-03T02:42:00.004+08:00

When I lie where shades of darkness

Shall no more assail my eyes

As the rain made lamentation

Or the whistling wind sighs

How will the world fare whose wonder

Was that the very proof of me?

Memory fades, must be remembered

Sure it perishes as it can be.

When will my dust surrenders

Confused, blurred with confession till dusk

May these loved and loving faces

Get collaborated and drained in a task

Let rust harvest vast places

Soil the fool’s joy entwined

And as the happy embryos traces

Appreciate the joy once mine.

In every hour without night

Seal their minds in deadly slumber

For their lies swell till delight

Oh pardon me should my words be blunder

And so I’ve paid my utmost blessing

Where all things lived with praise

Events in the past year had been passing

For I pray this year I shall lead with grace.

Crack The Liar's Smile

2009-12-12T03:44:00.003+08:00

Have I ever mentioned that I'm quite good at lying? I'm also pretty well accomplished at sniffing out a lie too. Sure, eye twitches and all that shit are helpful. But most people are better liars than that, so I'll give you some helpful hints to help you.

If someone goes on and on, they are trying to cover or embellish previous lies. Embellishment is one of the great mistakes that liars make. If it sounds too good or too bad to be true, then it isn't. Stumbling over descriptors can indicate a lie. If they interrupt you to say something, but then hesitate in the middle of it, they're probably lying by omission after processing what you didn't get to say. If it comes out too fast or too slow, they're probably lying. You know, you have to pay attention to the rhythm of speech. Most people do what I call "shave" lying, which means that they lie by just a hair, which, like that other thing you all like to be shaved, trims down the truth into something more appealing.

I'm also interested in eyes and people looking and watching and staring and gazing. I always have to self edit myself to where people are looking. I usually turn it into descriptors of what they are looking at; that they are looking at them is understood, right? But in rough drafts people are shooting each other meaningful glances, or studying the night sky or focusing on their knees and the like all the time. It's annoying. But then, that's what editing is for, and I guess it's how I see through their eyes. I'm good at that too, which is why I'm good at seeing lies. In addition to being observant, I'm empathetic. I feel your pain, man. Not that I care, but I feel it. And I don't often show that side of me to others. But empathy is why I write about at my posts looking at stuff all the time. You can't buy that shit, it just has to come to you.Free things are the greatest things in life: yeah, love and empathy and all that. Sure, go with it. And then there's the greatest free thing of all: writing, and reading what I've written. That's why I'm lucky, coz I love write and it's all free. Books cost, internet costs, the newspaper costs, reading anything at all costs something; except when I read my own stuff, it's free.

Of course this latest post was disappointing. First of all, you can’t learnt much from this post. Secondly, it's missing that element, that "ah ha" moment. Something is not right. Oh well, it will come. It's not bothering me. Much.

Can you tell I'm lying? :)

Information Technology

2009-11-24T02:45:00.004+08:00

Currently we live in what is widely referred to as the “Information Age.” People manipulate and control information continually, even so that some groups are equated with information. Information is their business and that business creates power.

Say, for example, you had a secret that someone was having an affair. What is the difference between telling that person’s spouse or a stranger on the street? There is a difference, of course. The stranger has the knowledge, but not the power. Say the stranger subsequently meets someone in a bar and tells that person about the affair. The listener is the spouse of the adulterer, and the conversation gets them to thinking...Suddenly the stranger has become very powerful, without even knowing it.The lines between knowledge and power are blurred and dynamic. Information equals power in our world today. But at what point does information become power? And at what point does said power gain a dangerous influence over the information?

Imagine someone who has intelligence; knowledge, but only holds it; does not act on it. Is it possible for that person to remain powerless?

Word For Pout

2009-11-11T03:42:00.005+08:00

dis·con·nect: A lack of connection; a disparity.

Ah, it's just a conflict, you say. It's a philosopher's fancy-schmancy term for a conflict.

But a disconnect is more subtle than a conflict. A conflict names itself; puts itself out there for all to see. It's noisy and disruptive. A conflict refuses to be ignored.

A disconnect is the shade, the simulacrum, the soul and fetus of a conflict. It craves anonymity. It's a murky thing: lingering at the heart of what eats on us at night.

In Times Like These...

2009-10-27T03:03:00.015+08:00

Today is my birthday. 27 years of seeing the beauty of the world. 324 months of hearing the wonders of sound and voices. 9855 days of breathing. Goodness me, sometimes we do take this things lightly. Some say I am still young. Some say I am already old. Whatever it is, I pray to God how thankful I am to be alive and to still be able to use my five senses. Hmm.. five senses.

I have seen, through my eyes, the good and the bad images of people and places in this world. I have heard, through my ears, from the serenity of voices to the crying voices of people in this world. I have touched, through my hands, both the beautiful and rotten things people lay on my hands in this world. I have smelled, through my nose, both pleasant and unpleasant things that I have came across in this world. I have tasted, through my mouth, from the wonders to the disgusting things that I can put my mouth to in this world.

And I asked myself, "Have I put all that to good use?"

It's hard to say coz we humans, will and always make mistakes. Time and time again we will make mistakes. Time and time again we will ask for forgiveness. Time and time again we will promise ourselves to repent. And... the cycle starts again.

Its fair enough to say that whenever tragedy strucks, we will reflect on ourselves first. What can we do? What can we learn? What can we contribute? What can we do....in times like these?

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Taken from Foo Fighters' "Times Like These"

I am a one way motorway

I'm the one that drives away

then follows you back home

I am a street light shining

I'm a wild light blinding bright burning off alone

It's times like these you learn to live again

It's times like these you give and give again

It's times like these you learn to love again

It's times like these time and time again

I am a new day rising

I'm a brand new sky to hang the stars upon tonight

I am a little divided

do I stay or run away

and leave it all behind?

It's times like these you learn to live again

it's times like these you give and give again

it's times like these you learn to love again

it's times like these time and time again

After reading the above, we started to think. Think. And think. That's the other thing that I forgot to say thankful to God. For giving us the beautiful mind to think. For whenever we want to use any of our five senses, we can think before we do it. For it's the mind that operates the five senses. The beautiful mind. A gift from God.

Shut Your Eyes, There Are No Lies...

2009-10-19T16:46:00.008+08:00

Lately, I was thinking about how every person you will ever know will disappoint you. People will make bad decisions. They can be so stupid(that includes me as well). They can get so involved in themselves they don't have anything left over. People will hurt your feelings, not meet your expectations or disappoint you. At times, a person will not be thoughtful. Over and over again, each person we know does something that we won't like. Over and over again, we make bad friends or keep old baggage around. Over and over again, we will continue to make new friends or lovers.

No matter how long they are around, something will happen not to your liking.Yet we will always allow opportunity in our life and we don't want to shut down everything because of past experiences. Sometimes we take a step away from entertaining certain relationships to develop in our life for a while but eventually, time heals wounds and we will be ready to try again. Often times we try again only to come up short again.

Then, I realised… that’s the beauty of life. There can never be perfect. Perfect is mend for fairytales. But individually, it is others that dissapoint you will help us to grow, to learn and to enjoy life to a fuller extent. Pain will surely come again with a different face at some point in life. And it will temporarily make any joy in life less full. But once we move on, the joy rebounds to the fullness it once was and we are glad for it.

This world we are living is not perfect and same goes to people. One of my best friends ever asked me before, “What attracts me to a lady?” I honestly didn’t like to answer questions like that. I probably just reply some cheeky answers.

She ended her message with “How about true beauty?” I didn’t reply.

I,myself, would be hard pressed to name the unique thing about me that makes me beautiful. I think that is part of the deal- someone has to discover it in us. Someday someone will discover that a guy likes to lay outside in the rain fully dressed just to let everything wash away. That will be beautiful. Someday a guy will see a lady dancing when she thinks no one is looking and she will become another dimension of beautiful. I am sure, maybe you, will get caught doing a good deed soon and someone will be completely smitten with you.

The beauty we have isn't what the weighing machine reads, what product label is on the jar or in our clothes, the shoes we wear or the size of our, ahem, adulthood. It is about who we naturally are inside, the way we were made.

When we can be who we were made to be, that is when the true beauty shines through.

Tuesday Food For Thought

2009-10-13T06:05:00.006+08:00

People tend to notice things first and foremost if they correlate to the things they think about, and it is very common for the things people think about to fascinate them. It is also common for people to assume the things that fascinate them are the same things that fascinate others, which in turn leads people to believe that others notice the same things they do. Follow?

See, I'm obsessed with various people's thinking, because in general they're just so... bad at it. It's easy to make mistakes because we tend to form opinions based on reactions, as opposed to, ooh I don't know, thinking first and then forming conclusions later? For example, this is what always gets me. We live in a world where, for example, a malay was heard saying, “Eh dok, lu asal sak?” and some other people heard that and saying how mat/minah he or she is. But this is what we do, we make sweeping generalizings about the things people stand for to make things nice and tidy and hate that thing. The truth of the matter is we all just think differently. Liberals have a different way of thinking than conservatives, and even though conservatives can be annoying at times, they still have some valid things to say. But it's so much more soothing to the ego to think that our intellectual strengths define what intelligence is, while others are just good in certain areas. This is actually quite profound, I guess you could say, because we all think this and it's precisely what keeps us from appreciating others.

It's only natural, though, to want to hear things that fall within the context of our pre-existing base of knowledge. We like to deal with the fringe of what is known and unknown. If I pointed out that the sky is blue, nobody would care, because everyone knows that. If I started reading from Einstein's journal of mathematical equations, nobody would care, because none of it would make sense. The only way for me to get anyone's pulse going, is to speak on the fringe of what is known and unknown, to expand the parameters of what people know. But people think they know alot so its hard to find someone willing to hear it. I think it's a beautiful thing when you find two people who are completely willing to learn from each other. Pretentiousness is a bitch though, ain't it? Once you think you have all the answers you’ll stop looking for them. I guess its only natural that we tend to believe our personal experiences make us wiser, while the experiences of others make them bias. I'll wrap things up though.

It's a naive reality we live in, when three-fourths of our thoughts are wasted on meaningless trivial things, and the other one-fourth wasted on telling ourselves how smart we are - you really wonder if what we tell ourselves is true. If you ask me, we're just good at what we're good at. Smart is too broad of a word. But let us all go ahead and keep thinking we're geniuses. After all, we are the ones who dictate the reality of our own thoughts, and who wants to question the thoughts that make us feel better? ;-)

Fallen with Grace

2009-10-08T04:57:00.008+08:00

"My mind is big when I look at you and talk to you." -- Anonymous

I've spent a lot of my free time with my close friends. We’ve known each other well and a few of us known each other since we were six years old. We’ve grown so fast and become adults in no time. And as we look to the past when we were kids, we were immortal. I mean, I felt immortal.

I duly observed stay-home mommies and aunties tend to talk about "lots of togetherness" - a catch phrase for "the kids are on my nerves." But as I look at kids, my small cousins and my friends’ kids, they aren't really on my nerves. I mean, true, I don’t have a family of my own yet. How would I know? But to look at them right through their eyes, sometimes I wish being a kid back. I used to dream a lot. As kids, we were allowed to dream as far as we can coz we didn’t really know how big the obstacles lying ahead of us. And yes, of course, being mischievous and always know that my loving parents are behind my back no matter how bad I am back then. Oh, I had my moments. And to look at them(kids) now in general, even though the giving is mostly mine, they don't wear on me. They build me up.

I think any kid would say the above about their parents. We make them feel big. It's our job. But I say that about them. If I have my family of my own in future, and I can create a human being then what's so great about the endeavour of writing a book, which I have been wanting to do lately? My mind feels big when I look at kids, and their heart, and their confidence.

This evening, as I was about to play soccer with my friends, I was in a lift with a probably three-year-old cute little girl holding a balloon with her mum. Her face looked gloomy, possibly, disappointed by her balloon. The helium had gone to wherever helium goes to die, and the balloon lay limp on the lift floor, the string fallen in perfect loops. I expected tears –coz I got a sneaky suspicion that she will look even more adorable when she cry-but she gave a smile instead to her mum and said, “I’ll lift it up and it will stay up.”

I smiled at her reply and wanted to say, "No, you know they only last a day or so..."

But I wisely stopped myself. After all, I'd just read this wonderful essay by someone:

"The progress of man is based on disbelief of the commonly accepted."

Who am I to say that she won't find the cure for cancer or the common cold? Maybe she'll discover and name the thing that binds us to each other and to the world. Or maybe her life will be filled with ordinary, wonderful things like marrying someone she loves, having kids, and liking her job. But she surely can't and won't do much of anything if I dissuade her from testing the most basic of rules.

A teacher I once knew worked with students who thought that the only possible means to financial success were through the more common practice of selling and taking drugs and being in a secret society. He used to tell them one important thing.

"You have to know what the rules are in order to break them." (Hardly original, I know, but cliches are cliche for a reason.)

There's always been a raging war between convention and the use of our intelligence. He actually meant to encourage their unconventionality in order to bolster that use. And it often worked too. I know, coz I was one of his students.

I got a reminder today, a million thanks to my caring parents for spending their time talking with me. It's a simple thing, but something I'd forgotten. God is in the details, but grace comes from recognizing which ones need to be questioned. Look at everything and think how it can be deconstructed and then rebuilt into something bigger.The balloon fell today, but who am I to say that it will fall tomorrow?

(This post was taken and edited from my defunct blog.)

Monday Food For Thought

2009-10-05T19:45:00.002+08:00

Have you ever known anyone who constantly, compulsively seeks attention from an outward source? Who always speaks in definitives; aye, beyond definitives but into infinitives? Who must always be the expert in every known malady, situation, and opportunity? Someone who interrupts tales of woe to report their own dire tales of more devastating woe? Who cannot be told anything new? Who, when not receiving attention, uses past instances of attention to seek it? Have you ever known anyone who seems to be a fathomless well of the worst and the best of everything which the human race is guilty or capable?

These people are best taken in small doses, followed by cleansing, blessed loneliness.

F1 2009 - No Doubt about it...They Rock!!!!

2009-10-02T03:33:00.009+08:00

F1 Rocks 2009

Last Friday, my friends and I went to the F1 Rocks and watched No Doubt performed and gosh... they still kick ass! The band played their old and new hits and oh yes... we enjoyed ourselves!

Entering the F1 Rocks... Noticed that we were all dry but later after the show....

Opening with 1995's Spiderwebs, the band was tight and amped, decked out in white and hopping and bopping around. Gwen Stefani, in particular, was top notch! I thought after she became a solo starlet and a fashion designer and a celebrity mom, she mellowed down but oh boy, I was wrong! The platinum-topped singer pulled off the princess heels and put on the old tank tops and gave a stellar performance, together with rest of the band.

Gwen: Left us wanting for more...

Fueled by mohawked drummer Adrian Young, and backed by extra horns and keyboards, they spent 70 ska-strong minutes uncorking chart-toppers: Sunday Morning, Hey Baby, Don't Speak and etc. We enjoyed the performance that we continued singing No Doubt hits in the car on the way back home... satisfied of course!

Exiting the F1 Rocks, we were all drenched but happy!

Then on Sunday, I did watch the F1 race. It was an experience as well and I truly enjoyed the weekend and to top it off, I took a pic with Travis' frontman, Fran Healy. One wonders what will happen if I get to take a pic with Gwen Stefani! ;)

Welcome!! :)

2009-10-01T16:42:00.006+08:00

First of all, thank you people for the time to browse thru my blog. With the help of my cousin (Thank u Dee Dee!), I managed to set up this blog and hopefully, it can be a place for me to share my thoughts and upcoming events. Do get a copy of Manja Oct issue yah! Hope its not too late to wish everyone Selamat Hari Raya!!!