Wednesday, May 31, 2006


My head is swarming with migraine as I type this. But there's too many bloody things running around in my aching brain cells crying to be release out and will disappear into thin air as soon as the door open. My body is red and hot from sun burn though I would prefer to refer myself as a fresh sun-baked miss Kelly just like the pathetic RM1.60 hot bun from oven that has people lining up for it for the sake of it.

I had a long weekend being a free private "tour guide" to some relatives. Not going to elaborate much beside the fact that these few days I've been a shopping companion that's piling up a few extra pounds that's happily claiming its residence from eating non stop with them and to update, bicycle ride under the unbelievably blazing hot 1 p.m. sun and an unqualified swimming instructor in a 1.2 meter pool in a 6 star rated resort where it takes a bloody 10 minutes to walk from the pool to the fucking resort room. It wouldn't be that bad if I wasn't alone walking back to the blardy room in my bathing suit wrapped in a towel while dripping water all the way with a bad eye sight that can hardly see a damn thing without my contacts or glasses.

Yes, I'm swearing again. In fact, I swear damn lot today. Just that I'm the only one who can hear myself muttering quietly and not look like a self talking maniac. It wouldn't look very nice swearing in front of a innocent 11 year old who never stop asking questions and a 13 year old who's trying damn hard to be cool by tagging along dear old K'ly jie jie. And I'm being a typical nice big old sister pampering these kids. Yes, I treat my little cousins really nice even though they drive me up the wall filling my ears constantly with complaints of Very Boring and Very Hot and Yada Yada what ever they can creatively come out with twenty four hours a day. Just enough amount to make me tease them that even old folks home wouldn't accept non stop nagging kids like them. And surprisingly, that shut them up. How sweet. For a couple of minutes, that's it. -.-

Call us lucky or unlucky, the fucking room had electricity problem earlier as this rarely happen at a damn international travel destination swarming with foreign tourists that smiles to you where ever there see you. Unlike those local freaks spending a nice promotion price harvest get-away here who not only didn't show their supposedly pearly white teeth but had a black sulky frowning mask on as if the damn pool is their private property and we're intruders trespassing their pool.

I should be hippy after having some hilarious time and instead writing a rather feisty post but I'm fucking sleepy, my body is hot and the itching is slowly emerging underneath this already tanned skin that's now reddish. Yes, those bloody protective layer of mine are starting to peel or nicely said, moulting process revealing a new softer and fairer skin beneath it.? How nice would that be.? How "thick" would I be.?

I've fall asleep studying.
I've fall asleep reading.
I've fall asleep writing.
I've fall asleep watching TV.
I've fall asleep in the car.
I'm gonna fall asleep typing soon.

Friday, May 26, 2006

My fair lady.?

I wanted badly to post an entry. Yet I don't know why there's this urge to do so when I have no idea at all what to write. I have bits and pieces in my little brain cell. Just haven't got the motivation nor inspiration to complete the puzzle.

Somehow it reflects our life. When the road you're traveling got so bumpy and difficult that you felt like your whole body are slowly shattering into pieces, hardly capable of continuing your journey, you can't help but wish you were never born. Is it so real then.? The thinking of how bad your life is, how terrible it is. The question of why does this always happens to me.? That life is so unfair.?

Is life ever fair then.? How can you ask for life to be fair.? Is life never fair.? I guess its hard to tell. Majority of people always complain about how life's so unfair that it ruined their life badly. From another point of view, its rather pathetic. Where were you when life's fair.? Too busy pursuing the fairness and vandalizing it while conveniently forgetting everything else.? More like you were too busy throwing the fairness you've obtained and when it's finished, there goes the little song again, Oh, life is so unfair.!

I personally think it's just not quite so right.

The definition of whether life is fair or not, stands differently for each person. Is my life fair then.? What can I say. I do not know. I don't even know what exactly fulfill the lifeisfair or lifeissounfair thingy. There's isn't any definite answer to it. Rather peculiar isn't it.? But hardly anything to curb it.?

I would have to say, fair or not fair, it depends on how you view it or take it yourself. Beauty lies within the eyes of the beholder.? I say, not only beauty, almost everything else is.

I once read a John Grisham, The Last Juror, somehow revealed the inner side of the panel of juries in a court case, and in this paperback, the case involved was rape and murder. Some juries sympathize the fact that he's a first time offender with no previous records, and do not deserve a death penalty despite the fact he raped the lady in front of her own kid before stabbing her to death and hence voted for the life imprisonment sentence. While, the rest of the juries has no doubt at all to send him to hell for good. As someone outside who's just reading the story, do you think he deserve life imprisonment or death penalty.? Or perhaps, something else.?

Some might think death penalty is way too harsh and life imprisonment shall serve him all right. Spending the rest of his life in the penitentiary with more than the time he needs in a cell to think back what he's done. In other words, every one deserves a chance to turn over a new leaf no matter how rotten they was once. Do you call that fair.? But perhaps, if you knew the so called life imprisonment simply meant ten years without parole.? And after that on good behaviours and a little luck, you can be release after all.? Is that fair then.? I seriously don't know.

I really haven't the slightest idea of the exact definition of life imprisonment in certain countries on how their law works. I'm just quoting from the book. Cheers. =))

Thursday, May 25, 2006

Green Mile

I dreamt of you.
I dreamt you were walking in the dark, and so was I.
And we found each other. We found each other in the dark.

The Green Mile - Stephen King


Wednesday, May 24, 2006

I'm deep.?

I remember back in secondary school, I usually chose to write narrative pieces like stories than factual essays during exams. I always take myself as someone who's hard to write with a serious tone with loads of sophisticated and emphatic vocabulary. I prefer simple descriptive stories, especially those that can touch your heart with a blend of word or two. But I usually get disappointed whenever I get my paper back. Most of the time, I'm a little over confident and assumed I did not bad but it always return with no special remarks and what I thought was good enough, actually wasn't. Was it my usual egoism telling me inside that I deserve a better mark or what went wrong with my essay.? Being a realist, I can always predict my own results. Knowing deep down how did I performed. The song sings a different tune when it comes to English essays, I never got what I thought I would most of the time. I thought I wrote a nice piece of heart warming story with nice narrations and descriptive genre, but it always come back with the same range of marks.

We usually swap and read each other's writings. I was always the one asking to read a friend's one and in return, they would read yours back. It just fascinates me so much, what did they write that gets higher marks than I did. I was indeed envious of their work, but I was hungrier for techniques to write a better piece than worrying that others are doing much better than I was. I do get jealous, but I was too busy pissing myself off and self-criticizing my silly writings than drooling over their works. Was I being a perfectionist.? I wasn't afraid of losing, but I was afraid of being not good enough for myself. There are time when simple English and vocabulary can spin out a nice interesting piece of original story that simply capture the heart of the reader and in this case, the teacher. But then, the only one I wanted to impress out of my writings was me myself, not the teacher. You don't have to impress her, nor others. Back then, you wrote because it was your homework, not because you want to, but you have to. (considering the fact that you are gonna hand it up and trust me with an English teacher like her, you better do.) And I chose to write it in a way that I like. Someone once told me to enjoy writing fictions as much as you can, for once you step foot into tertiary education, you'll be so sick of writing factual and current issues. And that person was damn right, I honestly can't remember when was the last time I sat down and really wrote a story. (Especially when you're stuck in form 6, current issues essays never ends.)

I'm not much of a story teller, I couldn't write a heart pumping high adrenaline piece with an orgasmic plot to keep you reading non stop. I can only write slow narratives type with a dialogue or two. Mostly about simple relationships or incidents that happens around us everyday that we usually missed out most of the time. Both of my classmates that sat next to me back then was always my victims. I shove them our homework every time to read and probe them for comments. One always said that if I wrote something similar or even better, I would melt the SPM examiner's heart especially if she's a lady. Deep down, I was thinking is that enough to blind the examiner of my hand writing that resembles a 9 year old and my inescapable grammar mistakes.? While the other one is always so noble with her comments, saying its nice but always with the same thing, simple story. Can't blame her can I.? She writes what you call simple tiny bits and pieces all joint up together forming a rather creative and interesting puzzle.

Thinking back, it occurs to me what I write is more towards thinking thingy. Not story type though written as a story. The thing about story telling is that you write to tell a story. If you write something you thought was beautiful but your readers hardly approves it, where does the problem lies actually.? Readers, do they want a direct story that they don't have to think much but just read boldly, or people who don't only reads, but analyze and really give a thought of what you wrote.? I wouldn't consider what I used to wrote as deep, but a dear friend said from the way I blog makes me sound like someone who's above 25 years old and pretty deep that I'm like an aging person.!

Should I be afraid of getting old.? Why should I.? I'm not alone. After all, who doesn't.?

Monday, May 22, 2006

I'm not running out of titles. =P

The fucking thing about living in our pathetic Boleh land is that we have to live up with extremely idiotic civil servants that works with the speed of snails at those counters that are lined up with tones of people working their asses off all the time every bloody day waiting impatiently at these unbearable ridiculous working etiquette that unquestionably monopolized the government working counters...

They're the self acclaimed royalty of the local working world since they're always guaranteed with a pay check with extra benefits with hardly a fat chance of getting their asses fired. Unless of course lightning strikes and you're freaking unlucky being caught for digging too much under the desk's cabinet until you could no longer cover the damn hole where all the extra allowance are obviously but blindly leaking from.

Common citizens like me unfortunately require their pathetic counter services once a while and wonder how could they possibly possess a working speed which is highly compatible and comparable to certain natural creatures that possess the same moving speed.? How on earth do these so called civilized Homo sapiens living in a competitive materialistic world can actually match up to the speed of a normal tortoise that takes hours to finish walking up a short line.? I have to declare the fact that I admire the tortoise so much more than these slugs working idiots for these tortoises are slow because they are born like that and not equipped with two long walking limbs that has a functioning brain that these crooked idiots decides to put it in a hibernating mode majority of the time. Hell, they might not even know how to utilize a functioning brain even though they have one. Well, you can't hardly blame these bloody nincompoops since like the tortoise, they're just born like that. They're the first class platinum coated idiots citizens who are spoon fed by the government ever since they crawl out from their mom's womb just because their aborigines identity are engraved in their blood. They're practically already the protected endangered species even before they actually step foot in this world thanks to their ancestors and our highly overrated aborigines that runs the country and also not forgetting the totally useless biased royal family that's also taking an enormous part in drinking the tax payers blood and sweat. Though, we still have to thank them in return because of these fortunately, majority of the aborigines especially the civil servant idiots, stays pretty stationary in self improvement and brain evolution due to our country's brilliant system in lavishing them with extra this and that while covering their asses and shits twenty four hours a day supporting and supervising them to success all the time. Leaving us, the third class citizens and below that fights for survival here with no other choice but to work ten times harder just to prove we're better or at least almost equal to them. Just what a wonderful fucking degree of inequality fair world we live in.

And can you just please teach me how to sincerely yell at the top of my lungs that I'm so fucking proud to be a Malaysian accompanied by the never ending chanting of Boleh Boleh Boleh.? Oh yes, there's always the food that compromises the arrogant and unproductive cheering.

Shorter than a Short One. =P

When I suffered from blogger's block, I complained. Cursed. Sworn. There are times of getting stuck half way through a previously thought to be inspired piece of entry OR dear old blogspot suddenly decided to went berserk and your long and patiently typed entry just disappeared into thin air followed by swearing some magic incantations hoping to bring it back. But oddly, there are also time when you typed a ten foot long entry that you wanted to write about so much and you go on typing and typing but erase right away the moment you finish it. This is something that happens to me a lot. I would just wiped off an entire entry I was cracking my head off to write it down earlier and the second I read it after I'm done, I'll kiss it goodbye. Why.? I seriously don't know. Do you.?

Sunday, May 21, 2006

Short one.

The ugliness of certain facts or everyday things that we come across is somehow inevitable for us to accept or not. It's not something that we can tolerate nor negotiate but just take a step backwards and accept the unfortunate fate that bestowed. Sadly, it's not something that's within our reach for us to control nor to alter. Whether you like it or not, you still have to accept the damn bloody fact that's already there. It's not like you can push it away and say NO. You'll be lucky enough to have time to be introduce to certain unpleasant or uninvited fate that unfortunately decided to rain on our own silly heads. It's not an option for us to choose which to accept and which not to. There's no other alternative available for us at all. But to take all in. Willingly or not. Happily or not. That's life. Even though there are certain facts or happenings that are not necessary to accept, it's unavoidable. You just have to. Time can never turn back and everyone knew that. But then, we still ponder at it all the time don't we.? Dreaming and wishing hopefully and blindly that some wave of a magic wand might miraculously turn the clock backwards, but deep down we always knew, it won't. It would never will. After all, it's not called dreaming for no reason. What that's happened already can never be reversed back and be wiped off like the writings in a blackboard. It just can't.

Sometimes, I wonder is it the same as the necessity of living.? Really, its not necessary being born or alive, but its also not something you can decide for your own. Of course, we can always quit our life whenever we wish to, but we can never decide or choose to be born or conceived or not, can't we.? Not that I'm complaining about my own existence, its just something I came across suddenly. Nevertheless, a new born and new life is always so beautiful to be witnessed upon and is quite a miracle itself. But then, is life a necessity.? I don't think so. It's just a nice tiny piece of our dear old mother nature.

Just a piece of my two cents worth. =)

Friday, May 19, 2006

You're Too Busy

You're too busy being busy that you forgot you're already busy.

You're too busy thinking whether you can make it or not and forgetting whether you should make it or not.

You're too busy taking orders that you forgot your own orders.

You're too busy doing what you're doing and forgot what you should do.

You're too busy doing what you need to do and forgot what you want to do.

You're too busy listening to other's that you forgot to listen to yourself.

You're too busy being the everyday-you that you forgot who are you.

You're too busy helping people and didn't realise you need help yourself.

You're too busy being sad that you forget how to be happy.

You're too busy worrying for others that you forgot to worry about yourself.

You're too busy thinking about what's best for others and forgot what's best for you.

You're too busy earning money and forgot to spend them.

You're too busy learning but never realise you never learn to take a break.

You're too busy wasting your life that you didn't realise you're already a complete waste.

You're too busy spending money that you didn't realise you haven't any left.

You're too busy complaining what you don't have that you forgot what you already have.

You're too busy asking for more and forgetting you already have more than you need.

You're too busy envying others and didn't realise others are envying you.

You're too busy taking and didn't realise you never give.

You're too busy being someone else you're not and never realise you're lost in yourself.

You're too busy getting pretty and forgot you're already gorgeous.

You're too busy being perfect that you didn't realise that's already imperfect.

You're too busy slimming down that you forgot you're already underweight.

You're too busy being free that you never realise you weren't free after all.

You're too busy being responsible that you forgot your actual responsibilities.

You're too busy being in front of the line that you forgot you've reached the finish line.

You're too busy trying to be the best that you didn't realise there's no one else left.

You're too busy dreaming that you forgot the real world.

You're too busy being hypocrite that you forgot how to be real.

You're too busy lying all the time you forgot how to tell the truth.

You're too busy remembering the bad ones and forgot all the good ones.

You're too busy picking at people you forgot your giant weakness.

You're too busy being angry and forgot how to forgive.

You're too busy complaining with how life is so unfair that you forgot when it's fair.

You're too busy being right that you didn't realise you're wrong.

You're too busy moaning that you forgot how to thank.

You're too busy sulking that you forgot how to smile.

You're too busy being old and forgot how to be young.

You're too busy being an adult you forgot how to have fun.

You're too busy reading typing this and forgot you've repeated them. =)


Tuesday, May 16, 2006

14 May 2005

I was sound asleep in my beloved bed. Far away in my dreamland when I heard some alarm ringing followed by some extremely loud BANGs. I was annoyed. It was 2 something in the morning. What sort of idiot display fireworks at this hour.? I did not bother to wake up. Then, someone was knocking at my door frantically. I answered the door, extremely paranoid. I have a Saturday class and was to wake at 5.40 am. It was mum. She said in a hurried but small voice that there was gun shots and sounds of a car driving away in a hurried pact. I was shocked. Freaked. My naive mind never once did registered that those impossibly loud impact was gun shots.

This happened exactly a year ago, right after the black unlucky Thirteenth the Friday, a double murder occurred right outside my house. No, I'm not kidding. It happen on the early morning of an unfaithful Saturday of 14 May 2005. Two person were murdered inside their cars separately right at the road facing and beside my front gate. My house happens to be a corner house where the side is a road and right at the turning corner, there's where the Mercedes-Benz was. With the driver's seat window shattered into pieces and a dead middle age woman inside with her brains blew off. Another local Perodua car was outside my gate, few steps away from the dumpster, where the front window has a huge hole which was the bullet entry hole to the car and a dead young man.

I remember earlier i was peeping in my bathroom and saw the Mercs with the lights on. And also a ZOOMING sound of a car. From the sound of it, assumptions were made that this car that was speeding away WAS the murderer. The odd thing was, the car did return and left again. The speeding sound was heard more than once. I couldn't remember much. I only found out about the other car when i was in my parent's room.

Pretty soon, another car came. The woman's daughter and son in law. The lady was crying and screaming. I was still upstairs. We only went outside after the police came. There were there for a few hours. The ambulance came, but did nothing since both were clearly dead. The authorities were just waiting for the Forensics to get here and start their work. The black car was here too. The undertaker.

Both victim's family was all over the place. The scene was horrible. I can actually see both of the victims. Corpses. Only their side which the door is open and can be seen. The police talk to the neighbours, including dad. Oddly, neighbours which could probably see the whole thing happened, at the side of the road, none of them came out. My car porch blocked our view, and I have to say we're very fortunate that we couldn't see much because of that.

I only return to bed around 5. After the bodies were carried away into the black car. Somehow after such traumatic shock, I was still interested in the way the forensics carried out their investigations. Taking pictures, asking people, etc. YES, I saw the entire process of it and NO carrying dead bodies doesn't disgust me that much and that explains my love for CSI.

The police's car was parked right outside my gate. Right underneath the dumpster was also the location of the religious ritual performed the day after. Both victims family actually brought someone to performed it. I'm a Christian and haven't the slightest idea what was those chantings and joss sticks or this and that for. A classmate said it was for to "guide" the victim's soul away and stuff and stuff.

The funny thing was when this was all over the paper including the TV news, I have people calling and texting me from no where. People I haven't heard from for a very long time. All hungry for details of what exactly happen. Actually, they're more interested if I've seen what actually happened. More like, did I saw who did it.?

I'm more than thankful that I don't. I didn't even saw the car which speed away. Rumors and news were spreading like fire in this area. At those periods, shops in this area are all talking about the same bloody thing. A trip to the coffee shop and you could be provided with more than you can imagine.

And the police did came to question us after all. A couple of days after the incident. I was like, what the heck.? It happened on the wee hours of a Saturday morning and they only go fishing for information on Thursday.? Any one smart and daring enough to commit a double murder in a Chinese living area with regular patrol cars clearly has the brain to get away as soon as possible and who knows is already in LALA land by that time.

It's been a year now. No one is arrested yet. Case is obviously in hibernating mode. I'm not enclosing much here about what I've heard or knew about the case or the victims. I just don't think its that appropriate to talk about it here and I just wanted to post about the murder since it just marks the one year anniversary. If you really want to know, I can fill in the blanks for you.

I wonder did the victim's families did anything on the anniversary of it.? I wasn't here and I'm pretty glad of it.

My first time.

I laid my virgin hands at it. Being a first timer, I was extremely inexperienced. I was never taught. I've only learned from viewing others since I was young. Others showing "live" demonstration to the innocent me. I knew perfectly well how it's done. How it works. But not the little details that actually promise something good. How to secure a nice and enjoyable one. I haven't the slightest idea how to show my affections to my companions with my naive mind in playing this little game. All I knew was, I was summoned to play this little game. Fortunately, my companions were having a great time, for luck was with me, the fresh duck with a pair of clean untouched hands that virginity was stripped off at that instance like the fresh baked bread from oven. This was apparently what attracted them so much. For they're in the game since they could even remember. I was an A class amateur, the newly caught fish and they're more than glad to guide me through it. Or so called prepared me for my future encounters with this little game. But, I was doing a good job entertaining them even though I was clearly a joke to them. They awarded me once a while. I was thrilled. I was being taken seriously. At least a little. Sufficient enough to keep me going on pleasing them. It was even better when I reached it on my own. But that wasn't the climax of it. The orgasmic feelings came when all 3 of them are laughing or smiling non stop at my courageous but foolish attempts that they obviously enjoyed most. Yes, it was me against three of them at one time. Pretty much for an amateur.? Well, it started with me and only two of them. The last one join in after the first round where they both recommended him to join us since I wasn't that bad for a new kid in the block. Plus, they were at least 4 audiences watching all the time. Keeping an eye at this little girl ditching her precious innocence at a table full of saturated experience players. Yes, it was performed at a four legged square table where each players was at one side. It was a brilliant choice. I'm more than happy to let them laid their experienced hands at my untouched one. Guiding and helping me. For I'm bound to come across more of these little games in the future.

Are you curious.? Who are those 3 lucky ones.? Take a look. I'm more than happy and proud to show you my first three players.


I was indeed laying my virgin hands at playing mahjong MYSELF for the first time ever. The empty chair was my seat. I took this picture when it was my turn to ZUK MONG at a rather difficult angle that explains the not so nice picture. The one at my right is my dear 80 year old granny。 The one across is my 79 year old grand aunt, granny's sister. And the last one on the left is my 69 year old uncle. Imagine, I'm barely 20 and I'm playing mahjong with three persons that adds up to almost to 230 years old.!! I wasn't even merely a 10 percent of them!! Hahaha...

All three of them enjoy mahjong very much. And being at their age, this style we're playing are the simple and fast one called 跑马仔. Where not much mahjong brilliant intelligence are needed. And that also explains why I'm playing...HAHA....

I was indeed the joke. But I wasn't feeling ashamed or embarrassed at all. It was pretty enjoyable. All of us was constantly laughing non stop. Even the 4 audiences as I mentioned earlier who are actually playing at the next table take turns to watch us and couldn't help it but go crazy along with us. The entire process was ridiculously humorous where granny and I took turns for accidentally making creative stunts that reaches the high level of entertaining. Hahaha.

One more thing, we knew granny love playing mahjong so much. Her cravings for it was so deep that when she's sitting there, she forgot totally about her coughing, headaches or any others old people sickness and most importantly, LOO TRIPS.!! She could just sit there facing those 13 tiles whole day and only went to the toilet once or twice. And she admitted loudly that normally, it was once or twice an hour when she releases the urging liquid filling her bladder all the time. Granny's fond of mahjong is also another reason why I'm playing along as I'm obviously the odd one out because they were short of one "kaki" at first before uncle came. And since I was such a success in accidentally creating mahjong mistake, I was to stay and continue entertaining playing along with them.

What can I say.? But that I had a great time playing with elderly people. =) Perhaps some might think I must be a loser or a geek to spend so many hours entertaining 3 senior citizens. ( We started before 12 pm till 10 pm and only stopping for meals). But then, it's not always you had such opportunity where you can hear GENUINE and PURE laughters coming deep down from a sum of almost 230 years lived.

Good night.

Friday, May 12, 2006


I'm stuck again.

Blogger's block is haunting me ...Fark...(I'm trying not to swear so much so spare me with the word substitution). Had a whole brain full of writing a piece about Lies but somehow these little ideas or so called inspiration just decided to disappeared suddenly or my blogging mentality suddenly shut down cos I'm freaking tired.

Nevermind. A close girl friend highly recommended THIS by the way. I think it's over-rated but just post it up anyway. And if you didn't smile after its over, join the minority club. =)

Leaving for Sandakan at 6am later for a long weekend. Celebrating dear granmama's 80th birthday which falls on Mother's Day too.


Monday, May 08, 2006

To be or not to be.

Life is a learning journey that only ends when our time is up. Even when you left, you're the only one who stopped learning, but others could actually even learn from your departure. Whether we like it or not, we have to accept the fact that we're growing old, learning more and more as time goes by.

You will never stop discovering things, new or old. In the sense of acceptance, its up to the person how they want to take it. Of course, if its something fairly respectable, common or just plain regular stuff, its never hard to take it in. But things are different when its something you have to wrecked your brain off or smack it really hard that whether you like it or not, you still have to accept it. Why.?

There's many things in this planet that's beyond our reach. It became an invariable option that whether you like it or not, plays an important part in our life. Take time for an instance. Whether you like it or not, its only 24 hours a day and you just have to do your best to maximize the utilization with what you're given. Because it's not something within your area to accept or not to because there's just nothing you can do about it. Of course, you can just keep shaking your head and turn a blind eye towards it but you knew yourself that it's not gonna last. It's only a temporary solution. Sooner or later, you still have to accept it. The hard way or the easy one.

When it comes to life's many decision that we make all the time, when something happened in between, you just have to take it. Willingly or not, it won't change just because you don't like it. Prevention is what experienced people advice you to do. In order to protect you from getting any possible mental or physical injury in the future. More like they don't want you to feel sorry for something you wanted badly to do because deep down they knew for sure in the future, they know you would regret. And they knew if they didn't, it will pains them so much to think that they could actually have prevented that from happening.

Can you put the blame on them.? From stopping you.? After all, they're doing it for your own good. They have the best interest of you in their heart. But sometimes, what they think its best for you doesn't necessarily mean it is. Even though most of the time, they're right, you can't help but think the fact that, that's life's nature. Its from mistakes you learn. If you never go for it, you won't know what you've missed or might missed.

Preparation and consultations from experienced people are nonetheless the best foundation for no matter what you intend to do in the near future, but that could be also the reason that stopped you from learning something you want but never did. You're too busy taking orders that you forgot to take your own orders. You're too busy listening and doing what you're suppose to do and forgot what you WANT to do.

Human act on freewill. Some chose to follow the more secure, bright road that you can see till the end for it will guarantee a steady road trip where for sure you won't tripped. But then, some still chose the bumpy road that's has some dark parts you have to brave yourself through. Why.? Perhaps they're seeking for something even better than the secure one can promise.? Even though it isn't that clear compare to the other one, you'll never know what's waiting for you down the blurry road if you never took it. But then, you still have to be prepared for the foreseen and unforeseen circumstances down the road. They could turn out to be better than what the other road promise or they could also be much worse too. But than, inside you, you know that no matter how it turns out, you know for sure you'll never regret. Because you finally feed the curiosity and question marks beneath you. For if you never took the road, how would you know? If it's a good one, congratulations. If it's not, its another lesson bought, though most probably at a harsher expense. At least, you did try and you don't have to live with it for the rest of your life wondering what was there actually.

This simply reminds me of Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken.

By the way, do you know Haagen-Dazs is extremely addictive.? =)

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Win, Lose or Draw

Remember the scene in The Fast and Furious, right after the street race, Paul Walker was laughing his head off even though he lost to Vin Diesel.? With his I don't know what accent, he said

"I almost got you"....(Smirk Smirk)

Vin Diesel looked at him, puzzled. With stack of cash in his hands pointing toward Paul Walker, he said...

"You almost got me.?" (Laughs) "Winning is winning..." ( Loud cheers from crowd)

So is winning really winning.? I guess it could be. Take a tennis match for an example. Two highly ranked players competing for a Grand Slam title. Protecting their serving point everytime. Its a common scene when players like Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal fighting damn hard for every serving point. These sort of matches takes ages to finish because they deuced again and again. Its like you lost a tiny point, the opponent score a point. And you could just missed your break point or set point or match point or even championship point. Worse if you really LOST the whole match you've been struggling for the past few hours just because of one teenie weenie unforced error or perhaps a GORGEOUS winner by the opponent. But then, there's nothing or who to be blamed. Competition is always like that. It's the actual truth that no matter what, you still have to accept. Perhaps if you were the winner, you wouldn't feel the effect that much even though you just won by the difference of a micromini centimeter where your ball strikes "On the line". The point is, you did WIN after all. And winning closely simply signifies the fact that what a fantastic match you've had.

What if you lost? Would you be raging beneath because you were almost equal with the opponent but you still lost.? Guess ALMOST is just not good enough to secure a winning putt. Because whether you like it or not, the fact remains that you DID lost. Or perhaps you could just accept the fact generously that,

"Oh well I lost. At least it wasn't such a tremendous defend and I can just improve and win play better next time"

I guess you can always say that. But what if there is no next time.?

Will you be stamping your feet to the ground angrily just like other three year old for not getting the ice cream they were asking begging for.? The old saying of appreciating what you have now and always strive for the best, is of course always ringing in your ears everytime when you're battling terribly. But then, how many times did it applies? That you actually APPLIED it?

So, does winning or losing really counts that much.? Perhaps in a match it is, but when it comes to certain battles, I personally don't think there's any definite answer to it. In fact, sometimes I think the win-lose thingy is much too highly overrated and looked upon by the pathetic audience that its no longer significant. There's the bunch that's called the "kiasu" lads that's the so called perfectionist and the "I can't lose or I'll die" thingy that sometimes you can't help it but feel that to them, winning is a life necessity. The way it's emphasized somehow makes you think that if they lost in gaining a project or name for something, they'll fly jump down from the next 20 stories building they can find. Of course, setting a goal and achieving it is indeed a very positive and encouraging character. But the way I see it, it's totally biased that it's no longer a surviving tactic in this materialistic world. But rather deviated that it's either you win or you'll die. Just like in the "Battle Royale". Where winning doesn't secure the victory meaning anymore but survival and that doesn't makes you feel better even if you did won. It just plain old everyday thing. Seems like life's not only fragile now, but so much less valued that it's taken as a token of gambling matter. Perhaps you can say its a better boost so you can always be at the top and tried your best and never regret if or in case you didn't succeed. But then, at this point, what exactly is winning.? Its such a sad thing when you don't feel victorious at all right after winning a life threatening battle, but just felt slightly relieved for one more day as there's more to come the very next day, moment.

Hmmm, intended to write about tennis and badminton matches earlier and end up with this. Guess the recent loss of Malaysia to Denmark in the Thomas Cup semifinal really didn't inspired that much in writing about it. Cheers.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Craving for chocolate ice cream terribly.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

North Country

This entry was written and posted earlier in another blog of mine ,My story, your movie. But I'm closing down that blog soon, so perhaps you've already read it. Will be posting the comments along too.

She was married to an abusive husband who beats the hell out of her all the time. With two kids to support, he was the sole bread winner and therefore tolerated with all those beatings. She only had one child with this bastard husband, if only you can still call him your husband that's it. No one knows who fathered her first child. She was raped at the age of either 16 or 17 by her high school teacher in a Saturday detention class. Apparently the teacher caught her making out with another kid when these two lads sneaked out of his class one unfaithful day...

Can you still call that person your teacher when he raped you.? Can you still call your friend a friend when he saw you being raped and did nothing but RAN AWAY.? (Worse, if you were seeing each other)

She left her husband and seek help from her parents. Were they any help.? Not much, but not little. With the help of a friend, she found a job in the Iron Mine. In USA, Iron Mine only started accepting female workers in the mid seventies. And this movie was set in the late eighties where the ratio of male and female workers in the mine was thirty to one. Can you imagine such scene.?

The story or shall I say the movie involves scenes where these female workers were not only bullied by their co-workers who not only obviously outnumbered them, but practically cover the whole damn mine. Is this the reason for all those woman discrimination and sexual harassments cases that happens not only everyday but all the time there.? The movie was based or you can say inspired by a true story where these incidents were made so real its sickening. Apparently be it you're a bitch, a sweetie or a I-don't-give-damn female worker there, they still get on to your knees.....

If luck is with you, you'll get a fake plastic penis in your lunch box right on top of your ham and cheese sandwich and apple. If you're not so lucky, you'll get semens on your towel in your locker or your ass being grabbed by loads of filthy old men trying desperately to get into your panties. If you're really unlucky, all hell break loose when you're in the portable toilet cubicle and like Mr. Humpty-dumpty you fall down together with the cubicle after a round of pushing by those unbelievable co-workers of yours outside. Did I mention, the cubicle is usually full with faeces that all come tumbling out after your unfaithful fall. Or perhaps a little wall decoration drama where faeces suddenly became a form of decorative wall paper in the ladies locker room.? Or being labeled as a whore in front of the whole world just because you turn down some of your men co-workers to have some fun.? (So called pathetic fun)

You're wondering why do these women want to be so mentally and physically tortured by working in such unpleasant environment.? Aren't they just seeking problems for themselves by working there.? You think these women should just stay at home and cook and do the laundry.? What makes you think they want to get extremely dirty everyday and worried about being raped the next minute or being harassed or god knows what else.? I do not know what these women think back in the eighties. But from the movie, you can tell that they all do it for the same reason. The handsome pay the iron mine is offering due to the risk of working in a dangerous plant. And all these women need these money very much. Mostly because they have their own family to support and do not want to depends their lives with MEN. Guess you can't blame why are women getting more independent as the world grows older....

Perhaps I do sound disgusting but I'm just quoting from the movie. And it is indeed a good movie (rather heavy though). Apparently the female workers has a union protecting them but it wasn't working (more like it was shadowed and push to the back when the leader got really sick) and that's when the main actress could no longer bear it and went forward in filing a law suit against all these abominable occurrence in the mine and the plant, the company. The case was to order a class in protecting female workers, their rights, their benefits, anything they ought to have, in fact what they DESERVE as they just work just as hard as others in the mine and why should they be paid less just because they're the minority.?

This movie does involve quite a number of touching scenes. You can't help yourself but pity the story within or perhaps the true story that inspired this production. It's nonetheless something more than revolving around the main actress herself, where she shows what she'd been through and what others female workers experienced in such unpleasant world. Guess no matter what you felt, no matter how close you were to these actual happenings, you wouldn't get it unless you've wore the same shoes they did. Though, its something nice to indulge in if you're ready for a nice meaningful movie. =)


Blogging spree

When I started this blog, it was just because I was too bored staying at home most of the time while waiting for Form 6 classes to start. Looking back at my old entries, especially the really early ones, I can't help but feel that my entries were rather lame, childish and totally not what I've been writing for quite a while. In the span of this 2 years in keeping my blog, its sort of something for me to trace back what I've gone through or even what I've actually wrote. There was once the thought of deleting the old entries, since it portrays a different me, a rather thoughtless person in her late teens who just love to talk about her lame days just because she's too bored with her own life that time. (Talk about self attacking, HAHAHA.) But then, if those silly parts are gone, my blog wouldn't be original then. Something will be missing. So does the meaning. Those hilarious entries are what that reminds me how much I've grown. The contrast of before and after.

Could it be its only the forces of nature working, growing as time past.? Part of life's journey that each and everyone will go through.? Or perhaps the 18 months spent in Form 6 does alter your brain effectively.? A stage where your mind accelerate so fast that you yourself wouldn't realize until you took some time off and went wandering around the old times. I seriously did not realize that until I actually went through my old entries. And find myself laughing at my own funny entries. I didn't even notice that my way of writing actually did changed or was indeed changing. Seems like I've gone a long way.

I hate it when one minute I'm typing non stop and all of a sudden I'm just stuck. FARK.

Sometimes its annoying when your brain just wouldn't stop talking to you. Silent monologue beneath you that are either frustrating or just keep your mind working when you're hands are occupied with something else...For an instance, my mind just can't stop self blogging when I do my chores. Most of the time, when I finish my house work, I would forgot what I've "blogged" earlier in my brain. Seems like some sort of precaution steps to avoid my brain from getting rusty due to this seven month break I'm having. But then, when I really try to write it down or blog about it, I just couldn't recall.

Monday, May 01, 2006

What's wrong

Mary was teaching in a remote area where her class only consist of 5 students. Everyday, as a teaching routine, she would asked the students to answer some simple mathematics question in the black board in which they've done earlier as their homework. The odd thing was, none of the students are willing to complete the task. Has she done something wrong then.? Even though there were only 5 students, it can't be possibly that not even one of them know the answer.? When she asked her students what's wrong, she was very surprised with the explanation that followed.

It happens to be that these young children has a deep understanding about each separate individual's capabilities and also respecting them. Amazingly, in such not very civilized area, these young souls understood the senselessness of the win-lose approach in merely their small class room. They knew that there's no victory nor does it mean anything if any one of them are being embarrassed or highlighted in the chalkboard. That's why they refused to compete among each other in public. Perhaps you think it sound rather ridiculous as its only an everyday thing that happens in a so called classroom of 5, but then, it conveys the message where these children are willing to learn, just not at someone else's expense. Even though it revolves around a small circle of young kids, its still the place and time where their personalities are being shape up for the upcoming future.

Would you rather be humiliated in front of your class or being educated directly from your teacher.? Even though the idea of it doesn't sound very respectful, guess its the way that work? The idea of being the joke in front of everyone is rather ugly, it either gives you a mighty boost to work harder and prove yourself worthy, or simply just makes you sink lower than you already are. But then , if you were prepared, it wouldn't be quite a scene right.? Or the arrogant you might think, why bother proving.? Me myself knowing is sufficient enough and let the results speaks for itself later.