Filler: Strength...

Strength can be a difficult thing to measure. It's the hardest to quantify.

Does persistence and perseverance seem to an observer as a virtue, or seen as just plain stubbornness?

Where does the line between bravery and stupidity lie? Is standing up for a complete stranger, an act of courage or an annoying habit of 'busy-body'ness?

If strength is continuous optimism, is pessimism an escape, or a realistic view on life?

And does expressing things on a blog such as this, a sign of openness, or a sad attempt to make a mark in the real world?

No one can be exactly sure, since the world is full of steel like self-justification and unavoidable barrage of criticism from so many different colors of the spectrum.

Do you consider yourself strong? Honestly believe that you have enough willpower to last you a lifetime? If you genuinely do, then you can consider yourself lucky...

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The blog is open again

My previous attempt was a pile of bull. So, this is my second attempt to get it running again. Facebook as been taking too much of my time that I've been ignoring most of the blogs I maintained.

I allow myself moments of absolute laziness. But each streak has to end. I'm going to dedicate my free time in utilizing my mixer and my Bamboo in these couple of weeks.

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Starting to blog again... An attempt of course...

Thought of writing and making this my personal blog. More of an online journal of sort. Thus, making it by invitation.

Will write more later. Trying to figure out who to send invitations though? hahaha... oh well. The inner circle first I guess.

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Tears of a true gentlemen

Almost cried watching this. Tread on soldier, tread on. 

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Watch this you toads! SF Glory!

In the spirit of the new-realeased SF4. I present to you, the coolest SF movie remaking eva!

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A Gentle Cut Throat Reminder for Myself

1. Never trust salesmen. 

2. Never spend on something by impulse. Think and then Buy. When in doubt think some more. 

3. Always but something from a authorized seller. "It's cheaper here than in the store" line is a bunch of crap. 

4. If there is a time limit on the offer and it translates to"Buy Now! or regret", you better walk away. 

5. Buying from recommendation is encouraged. Use the internet. 

6. Constantly have a mental check on where your phone, keys and wallet are. 

7. Never try to answer the phone when actively playing a sport. Tennis for example. 

In nutshell, stop being a gullible piece of meat. This month has been bad. Sigh...

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Wrong Prescription

Place: A random bathroom in some random building

Time: Some random time at night

It felt like my nostrils were burning. It was excruciating. It wasn't the pleasant campfire warmth, more of a napalm scalding pain that seem to eat away at my flesh. It didn't help that I could feel the burning sensation creep down to my throat and spread through my lungs like raging wild fire. I flinched so hard, I almost bit my tongue off. Good thing I didn't....

It seemed like moments ago when I felt chilled to the bone. My sweat dribbling down my face, cold sweat. Imaginary sweat. No way I could sweat and be so cold in the same time. But somehow I did. My hands were shaking like a Parkinson inflicted madman, I clumsily took out a long green cylinder. Its shape a surface, slick and smooth. Nothing like my state of mind. I struggle to grasp and twist it open. A wisp of my own definition of heaven filled the air in the room....

"You should lay off that thing", Mash's stern voice seemed to echo in my head. "Prolong use will kill you". I've gone through a whole lot of shit, I doubt anything like a shot would kill me. "Yeah, yeah, I'll tone it down alright, just get of my back OK", the usual rebuttal, followed by the turn, and the walk. "Please, just listen to me....". Couldn't really hear her jabbering. I was already half way through the door. "I don't want you to turn in to a.... ". Bam! the slam of the door muffled the last remaining words.

Did I mentioned that it burned? So much that I felt like pulling out my lungs and dipping them in ice water. Not that a bucket of ice water would be easy to come by, nor are a pair of detachable lungs as a matter of fact....

Viktroll was a mans best friend. Easy to come by, strong on effect and cheaper than the other shit you find on the streets. Side effects might vary. Dried throat, oral irritation, double vision, slight spinal discomfort, depression, aggression, irregular heart beat, massive hallucination, hyper-tension, psychotic/suicidal tendencies and of course my favorite, an extreme high like no other. Impatient, I wedge the cylinder up my nose (I thought I heard a 'click' when I did), and inhaled. It felted like a breeze, and the effects unsatisfactory. I inhaled deeper. Nothing. Deeper. Nothing. Deeper.... then suddenly it came like a gust of wind. A tsunami of pleasure. It was as though all my senses lit up and exploded. And explosions are never good....

Searing. How about we refer it as searing? Let's go with searing. It's a much more suitable word to express the unexplainable pain. Searing of the flesh. I could swear I could smell my own lungs sizzle. I topple, my own body convulses over the pain. My head knocks on the floor. I see blood. But I don't notice the pain. How could you feel pain with so much searing? The blood trickles and pours....

Call somebody. Anybody. Help. I need help. My brain's last call of desperation. My hands scramble for my mobile. It obeying my will was a pleasant surprise. My fingers fiddle the buttons, my vision doing a bad job of assisting, hazy as mist. My head feels fuzzy. No, not the warm kind. The soapy kind with bubbles flowing out of my ears. I press the call button, drag my arm closer to my ear. And hope....

"Geeeee..... I'm so sorry. The Juice isn't here right now. hihihi. Probably doing something like shopping, or chitty chattering or maybe doing my hair or my nails or both. Busy busy busy. Either way, call back ya... chowwww"

I cough out blood while spurting out a gurgling laugh. Just my luck. My sister. Last thing I'll hear is her giggling. Blood and saliva ooze out of the spaces between my teeth and the corners of my smile. The cylinder clasp tightly in my hand. Even in near death, my body does not want to let go. Things start to get dark. I lose all consciousness, all feeling. Except the damn searing. It burns. Mash's word kept ringing in my head over and over again. "Junkie".

Blogging off....

New Year A'hoy!

Yes, people! 2009 in here. Sorry for the late greetings, but this new year has been exciting, and busy as well. Well here I am, back blogging.

So where do we start... hmm...

Oh yeah, I salute and dedicate a vigorous wave to year 2008. It was one of the most challenging years of my life. It was filled with spit in the face-down in the dirt-c'mon go ahead step on me periods. A lot of bumps, a few ravines, but somehow I made it across. Not unscathed though, but I do feel a sense of pride knowing I managed to pull myself out of one of my low points in my life.

Of course people tend to remember the bad, but 2008 was mix bag of good stuff as well. Partings with friends and loved ones was indeed difficult, but then you discover how valuable friendship is. You learn to keep the ones close, closer.

The biggest lesson for 2008 of course goes to the old favorite, "family responsibilities". Discovering a new role as I came home was a wake up call on how far I've journeyed through life.

To the end of 2008, I was greeted with with an excellent new job, a boost of confidence, new colorful people to call friends, and warm seasoned ones. Not forgetting, a wonderful encounter . So I'm spiteful at some things, and grateful for others. No regrets I guess, happy to come out smiling.

What will 2009 bring? Good times or bad? I'm pretty sure a mixture of both. I do enjoy dwelling in pessimism, but I can't help to think that 2009 will be a better 2008. So, I allow myself a bit of idealistic optimism.

Resolutions? Nothings specific I guess. I'll keep on doing what I'm doing and hopefully do it with more effort and enthusiasm. Of course I'll be keeping an eye on my health and continue to remind myself that the number 30 is right around the corner.

That's it chumps. All the best for this year. Hello 2009!

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Bila Besar Nanti Nak Jadik Apa?

Call me old, but I have this bad habit of asking the same questions when I first interact with children. I like to call it adult-to-kid-small-talk. The questions usually range from the basic "Nama apa?", "Umur berapa?" to the slightly deeper "Sekarang belajar darjah berapa?". Recently however, I've started to add a few sophisticated questions in to my repertoire of adult-to-kid-small-talk. One of them being the infamous "Bila besar nanti nak jadik apa?".

A few months ago I had the opportunity to join a Charity Club to a visit to a special school for blind children in JB. The school which doubled as a dormitory housed probably around 60 students from pre-schoolers to high school students. The program lasted for 2 days and around 40 students from UTM were there to entertain and motivate the children.

During my period there, I was amazed at how these children behaved despite their disability. I would hold my breath every time I saw students run along the narrow corridors, expecting them to bump in to something or fall when they instead maneuvered skillfully around poles and skipped across stairs as though they could see with each confident step. I was equally amazed on how cheerful the students were, how their condition did nothing to pull them back from enjoying life and the experiences that came hand in hand with them. I guess these are the benefits of being children.

Unfortunately though, I am cursed as an adult. I was left pondering and wondering about the children's future. Every time I looked at their cheerful faces, I couldn't help but wonder the adversities they might and would probably face. Excuse my pessimism, but what idealistic future could sustain these special children? A future that would allow them the same opportunities every other children has and provide them with success equaled to their efforts. I realized with a bad taste in mouth, that the world was far from being ideal. And I wasn't the only one. I could see a number of the facilitators break, their heads bowed slightly, hiding the tears filling up in their eyes.

The program ended with smiles and laughter of course. A few teary outbursts occurred due to the separation but was quickly dried up by the anticipation of promises to yet again meet. Hugs and shakes were exchanged with a mixture of both love and respect from both sides. I would like to believe that we somehow made an impact even though slight on these children's lives. Wishful thinking perhaps, but one can hope.

I wish the best for these children and hope that their futures hold a much more easier path than the one my hampered realistic mind could limitly imagine. Call me weak, but I just didn't have the strength to ask them, "Bila besar nanti nak jadik apa?".

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Pak Daud

Recently I've been trying to routinely have breakfast every morning. Like they say, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. However, I'm not graced with breakfast at the house table every morning, so I take the alternative and stop by a local Malay restaurant for my usual roti telur and teh tarik.

While eating, my thoughts drifted (thoughts tend to drift when you're eating alone) on my childhood visits to Pak Daud, known for his delicious roti canai. Or that is how I remember it to be. Those were the times when mamaks didn't dot the entire geographical landscape. It was small shop close to school, where some kids with spare school money would go to hang out and get their roti canai fix. I was one of them. You couldn't really call me a regular since the meager allowance provided by my generous father didn't really allow frequent visits. However, the few visits I had were very pleasant and the memories of how good a simple roti canai could be kinda got cemented in my memory. Until now, I haven't had the opportunity to taste a roti canai to even rival Pak Daud's, but again, probably I did but the whole experience of saving up for roti canai in those days probably made me appreciate those particular visits even more. At that age, it was like a rare peek in to adulthood. Eating at a restaurant of your choice (my parents have never been there) and paying for your own food made me feel like a miniature adult.

These days kids probably prefer and are able to afford stuff like mcDonalds and try to avoid eating roti canai with their precious allowance. Times have changed I guess, and will continue to do so. I continue munching on my roti telur, losing my appetite half way through. Pushing it aside, I started to proceed to the counter to pay for my food when I found myself wondering, "what ever happened to Pak Daud?".


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Raya Adha Wishes

Happy Raya for those celebrating it. Hopefully you'll be either along side family or friends with enough food stuffed in you to last for weeks.

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Spoon Boy

Spoon boy: Do not try and bend the spoon. That's impossible. Instead... only try to realize the truth.
Neo: What truth?
Spoon boy: There is no spoon.
Neo: There is no spoon?
Spoon boy: Then you'll see, that it is not the spoon that bends, it is only yourself.

Never thought Spoon boy could be so enlightening... Can't wait to meet Fork girl.

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Cat Conversations (or I would like to think so...)

I enjoy talking to my cat. My dad thinks I'm crazy, but Comel does respond when I talk to her. While most would deem her responses as generic mixtures of different meow tones, the timing of her responses are amazingly accurate. So, I'd like to believe in my head that she does try her best to communicate. An example of our conversation this morning.

Me : Comel, I'm going off OK.
Comel: Meow. (I'm a Huuungrryy.)
Me : But you just finished a whole tin of tuna!
Comel: Meeow... (Well, I'm a growing cat...)
Me : You know the Dr. told you to watch your diet.
Comel: Meowrrr! (The Dr. can go and suck my paw!)
Me : I'm going to work. Chew on the rug if you're hungry.
Comel: Meurghh. (Whatevaaaa ugly man.)

She's cute like that.


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Warm Socks

You know what kinda sucks in the morning. Not being able to find a clean pair of socks. I was tempted again not to wear socks to work but thought otherwise, since words like discomfort, odor and foot disease kept nudging me in the head.

Out of options and desperate, I did the ultimate taboo and gathered the courage to rummage through my fathers wardrobe cabinet. Usually I wouldn't have the balls to do so, my father being very picky about people disturbing his stuff and all. But since he was away with my mom honeymooning at some distant land, he probably wouldn't even notice (Hell would ensue if he did of course).

Finding a pair of comfy Grey ones, I put them on and was hit with the realization that I haven't worn any of my father's clothes since my days in primary school. I remember every time he'd be off out-stationed, I'd go and rummage through his clothes looking for something to wear. Don't really know why, but I kinda enjoyed the feeling of his big clothes over me, the ends dragging on the floor when I walked around. The fabric felt comfortable and had my father's familiar scent, and was probably why I liked it so much. It wasn't long before my brother would do the same, and we'd end up being a pair of legless torsos skimming across our house parquet floor.

A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped me and made me realized how much we kinda missed our father when he was away. Probing further in to the memory, hoping to rekindle something more, a sudden chill jolted me. I suddenly recalled that my father didn't appreciate the idea of his favorite clothes being dirty, stretched and torn when he got back. The aftermath was usually not pretty. Feeling a lump in my throat, I swallowed and reminded myself to wash and put the socks back nicely as they were before he comes back.

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Rin', Mesmerizing Shakuhachi

Rin is a musical group that I came across when looking for modern hybrids of traditional Japanese folk music. The music they produce aren't a lot, but they compensate with extremely enjoyable to listen tracks. The Shakuhachi is a traditional Japanese flute which is very prominent in Rin''s music.

Here is one they are most known for: Sakura Sakura
Go ahead have a listen.

I suggest you listen while sipping a cup of hot green tea. Good for those stressful moments at work.

If you want to know more about the group here is a wiki about them in detail.

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