fake plastic words

God is Dead, so are You, and so am I

2010-02-20T08:24:00.003+08:00

It's that time of your life, when the most familiar constant becomes a vague, distant mirage. Unwelcome variables come crashing on to your fragile bones, teasing you, mocking you, questioning you. And you ask yourself, "What is the purpose to all this?". This perpetual tides of synonymous past crises is here yet again, and so goes the vicious cycle of this sad little thing we call life.

If karma does exist, is this mine? Or would the inevitable, eventual fall from grace be the grand total accumulation of all those past original sins? What would be of death then? What would it be of me now. Lying here on the cold floor, staring into space on the 11th hour, wondering and dreaming of the not so distant future and how many more fuck ups it has in store.

It's that time of your life, when the cynic turns to a realist. Questions upon questions upon impossible questions come screaming at you, teasing you, mocking you, questioning you. To which there is no plausible answer, and you ask yourself, "What is the purpose to all this?". The creatures of habit that we are keep falling onto the monotony of life, and so goes the vicious cycle of this sad little thing we call life.

If God exists, why do babies die? Why is there so much sadness and suffering that blankets the world? Why must life be a never ending test, where the rules change everytime and all else is out of our control? Why are there incurable diseases, natural calamities, extreme poverty and war? Why do you let our bodies bleed dry and our souls cry an infinite river?

Click

2009-10-30T17:50:00.000+08:00

www.danialradzmi.com

no shit // 090409

2009-04-08T22:33:00.003+08:00

Apparently,

I've downloaded 250gig worth of data for the past 9 days.

Can you say,

OMFGWTFF?

Okay time to sleep kthxbai.

recent jibes // 160309

2009-03-16T01:28:00.002+08:00

It was not too long ago that I remember feeling self-conscious. "I thought I was being as Dylanesque as I could impossibly be", or so I thought. And there I was mentally murdering idiotic, shallow dickwads (or so I thought) over some recent sudden whiplashes thrown at my general direction. Fucking shot my balls off and made me think twice over what key to hit next. But that only lasted for a number of seconds. Might have been a few, might have been a few thousand. Just don't ask me to remember. My head is clouded with too many things to even rationalize whether to drink OJ or hot milo.

Lately I have been so insanely busy that half of the time I'm just sitting, frozen in time, not knowing what to do while at the same time fully acknowledging the uber long list of to-do, to-post, to-edit, to-email, ad nauseam ad infinitum. Quite stupid, I know.

defeatism or reality? // 180209

2009-02-17T23:17:00.008+08:00

Maybe part of growing up, maturing and realising the realities of life turns you into a cynic. But I say, it turns you into a realist (if you're not born to be daft, green and shallow for life). It's a pretty fucking depressing state of realization to be in, really. After going through enough shit yourself you become aware of many things that earlier you were, a) too ignorant to notice, b) too immature to understand, and c) was just plain stupid to know.

You know that going through gruelling hours of academic work (half of which you despise to death, of which you know doesn't have much real use in the real working world), making your parents work (harder than they really should) to pay for your overpriced tuition fees that increases every year (not to mention the cost of living that rises at the mercy of the ever unpredictable, almost erratically fluctuating economy), and ending up with a piece of paper that you know is only a passport to the working-class world (and of course as a major self-esteem boost for you and your parents). And you know for a fact that you didn't really learn jack shit in class to prepare yourself for the real world.

You know that the first few years of working is far from easy; financially, psychologically, emotionally, physically. It takes up a lot of your time and energy, because you need to prove yourself to the bosses that you deserve to be kept in their employment roster (plus them bonuses). You can hardly save much money because it's extremely hard to put aside money when you're beginning to know how it's like to earn your own money (and also because the overall cost of living slashes your salary by at least two thirds). You start getting credit cards because that's the easiest way for you to enjoy life (without realising that you actually cannot afford them and will only incur perpetual debts that would in all probability snowball and smack you in the face real hard in the end).

You know that you need to work extra fucking hard and at times cut corners (cheating, bribing, etc., at the expense of taking a swipe at your personal principles and moral consciousness) to get to a position that has some semblance of financial security (but you know the only constants in life are death and taxes). And you know it'll take a long time, say, 10 years to get to that position. And you know that the average employee (over 95% of Malaysia's population are employees) retires at the age of 55 years old and on an average will have savings of a few hundred thousand ringgit (but only if he or she was annoyingly diligent in keeping every single spare cent) and an EPF of RM1 million ringgit. And you know that once you added in the factors; cost of living, inflation and medical care at the age of 55 years old, that that kind of money can only realistically last you for the next 3 years.

You know that societal convention says you need to find a life partner at a certain age. By that time you'll be, say, 28 years old and probably in a position to afford a decent sized wedding and marry (hopefully for the first and last time) the person that you (presumably, because we're all blinded by love/lust/fear of being alone now aren't we) love. But because your dearest soulmate lives in Far Far Away far in that deluded pretty head of hers, she'd want a fucking grand wedding. Because, I mean, splurging on expensive stuff (nauseatingly overpriced branded items, blings, and other pretty useless things) and getting VIPs to witness the officiating of your marrige is the only way to make you feel special, no? Or it's got to be big enough that she can, for once in a lifetime, feel like a fairy tale princess (oh the joy). And it'll definitely be grand enough to set you back financially so bad that you'd probably need to get a personal loan. Thus, adding more debt to your name. Because you have no balls to say no. And it definitely won't help if there's a monster-in-law in the picture. Never mind that the money could've instead been put to better use, for example, paying for the car and house downpayment which would be a heck of a lot more sense. Who says you need money to make an occasion special and "grand"? If that's the rule you live by in life, well, all the best!

You know that raising children is possibly the toughest job you'll ever had to do. Because, I mean, you're dealing with the physical, physiological, emotional, psychological, and financial well-being of an extremely vulnerable, defenseless human being. The overall financial costs would be over the top insane. The trauma of going through the ups and downs (if ever you'll have a child like me) would be unbelievably unbearable. You know that the world is going to hell and you do your best to raise your kids to prepare them for the worst to come. And sometimes, the worst do come in the end. Sometimes children grow up to become complete screw ups, sometimes they lose intimacy with their parents and distance themselves (because they already have their own brand spanking new family), sometimes they don't turn up the way their parents hoped that they would've, sometimes you make mistakes and fuck them up for life, sometimes they become drug addicts and stabs your wife to steal her gold chain and pawn off to get some cash for a day's fix. You know, stuff like that.

You know that the planet is dying, that global warming is rearing its ugly head dramatically more so than a decade ago. You can foresee a future where the entire polar ice caps have melted, rising sea levels dramatically, freshwater would become scarce, the entire ecosystem of the world becomes completely messed up, animals habitats become disturbed and more species going extinct, the entire country of Maldives and a large part of Holland and many other major cities will go underwater, the ozone layer becomes depleted and the atmosphere gets royally fucked up, greenery (you know, the thing that gives us air to breathe) dies away one by one because there are more toxic gas and free radicals in the air than a symbiotic balance of oxygen, carbon dioxide and nitrogen to sustain life on this planet.

You know for a fact that there is enough technology, resources and financial capabilities to power the entire world using renewable energy. You know that there is enough sustainable design and technology, and that it can work. You know that at the current consumption rate, the world's oil reserve could only last, optimistically, for another 40 years. And that there are other clean, renewable energy alternatives (hydroelectric, solar, wind, wave, geothermal, etc) that collectively are much more than can power the entire planet inexhaustibly. In 2006, a geothermal energy study from MIT found that there is currently 13,000 KJ of energy in the Earth. Upon improvement of technology, over 2,000 KJ of energy would be attainable. Since the overall energy usage of the entire planet is 0.5 KJ, that figure translates to over 4,000 years of clean power. But at the same time, despite overwhelming facts and figures that point to the fact that the planet is coughing blood and that there are other viable, cleaner, cheaper alternative solutions, there are many proponents that are saying that global warming is "natural" and that it is the biggest "hoax" mankind has ever concocted. And curiously enough, most of those "experts" are from the U.S. government.

You know for a fact that you are completely powerless. That you cannot question your religious institution. That you are ruled by corrupt politicians that are driven by money and power. That you are living within a political system that is foolishly outdated and an economic system based on selfishness and greed. And you know that the current system we live in perpetuates elitism, bigotry, corruption, hatred, prejudice, poverty, hunger, and war. You know for a fact that the mainstream media is controlled by influential politicians, and that a large majority of the so-called "news" are either filtered, intentionally designed and engineered, or are just based on negative, sensational news (irregardless of the fact that they might be morally wrong to publish such stories).

You know for a fact that the entire world's economy is controlled by a handful of people from a handful of privately owned companies. That there exists a group of people, so powerful that they can topple entire governments in order to serve their own needs and to further on their agenda. That companies such as General Electric, Walmart, Exxon Mobil, Ford Motor, Daimler Chrysler, are economically more powerful than Poland, Norway, Indonesia, South Africa, Saudi Arabia, Finland, Greece, Thailand, and plenty others. And that interestingly enough, over 50 (or 29, whichever number you prefer) of the top 100 most powerful economies in the world are U.S. based privately owned companies.

You know that the economy of the world is controlled and influenced by the U.S. government, the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund and the World Trade Organization. All of which are, curiously enough, linked very strongly to the Jewish lobby of the U.S. government. And of course you know that 96% world's media corporations (Walt Disney, ABC, CBS, NBC, Time Warner Communications, New Yorker, Vogue, Mademoiselle, Glamour, Vanity Fair, Gentlemen's Quarterly, New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, Random House, Simon & Schulster, Time Inc. Books, Western Publishing, etc etc etc.) are all Jewish owned. And the West actually got pissed off when Tun Mahathir said that "the Jews rule the world by proxy". Pfft. Makan cili, terasalah pedasnya.

You know that the Federal Reserve Bank (a government entity with private components) that supplies money to the U.S. government are owned and run by Jews. That the creation and function of The Fed is an extremely suspicious and questionable matter, to say the very least. And you know of its close ties to the U.S. government, to certain highly influential politicians, to the banking cartels, and of course, to weapons development mega corporations (read: Halliburton).

You know, of course, for a fact that money rules the world. At least in today's world. Those who control money (or rather, monetary politics) controls the world. And thus, you can conclude that the world's socio-economic well-being (or demise, for that matter) is in the hands of a handful of mega corporations within the media and the banking cartels. Those mega corporations, together, are more powerful than the world's religious, political and military institutions all put together. You know that in the end of the day, the world is a business. And that in that business, you have no say, no control and no power over it.

You realise that there is only so much you can do. And on a grander scale, that is really almost next to nothing. And if you think I'm just being a nihilist, ultra-leftist, deluded, ignorant jack ass, just... well, Google-lah. The evidence is everywhere.

So, what do you do now that you're aware of all these terrible terrible lies/facts/random nonsense? Well, based on my extensively detailed research, there are a couple of doable solutions and plausible options:

1. Become a hobo, embrace frivolity, drink every day and die under a bridge.

2. Become a hippie, live by the beach, smoke weed every day, and die with a smile on your face.

The choice is in your hands. Just take it and go.

"The world is run by one million evil men, then million stupid men, and a hundred million cowards. The evil men are the power - the rich men, and the politicians, and the fanatics of religion - whose decisions rule the world. These are only one million of them, the truly evil men, in the whole world. The very rich and the very powerful, whose decisions really count. The stupid men, who number ten million, are the soldiers and policemen who enforce the rule of the evil men. They are the standing armies of twelve key countries, and the police forces of those and twenty more. In total, there are only ten million of them with any real power or consequences. They are, often brave, I'm sure, but they are stupid, too, because they give their lives and blood as mere chess pieces. Those governments always betray them or let them down or abandon them, in the long run. Nations neglets no men more shamefully than the heroes of their wars. And the hundred million cowards, they are the bureaucrats and paper shufflers and pen-pushers who permit the rule of the evil men, and look the other way. They are the head of this department, and the secretary of that committee, and the president of the other association. They are managers, and officials, and mayors, and officers of the court. They always defend themselves by saying that they are just following orders, or just doing their job, and it's nothing personal, and if they don't do it, someone else surely will. They are the hundred million cowards who know what is going on, but say nothing, while they sign the paper that puts one men before the firing squad, or condemns one million men to the slower death of a famine. This formula - the one million, the ten million, the hundred million - this is the real truth of all politics. Marx was wrong. It is not a question of classes, you see, because all the classes are in the hands of this tiny few. This set of numbers is the cause of empire and rebellion. This is the formula that has generated our civilisation for the last ten thousand years. This built the pyramids. This launched your Crusades. This put the world at war, and this formula has the power to impose peace". - A.G.

sesi istana budaya butterfingers: the aftermath // 160209

2009-02-16T20:18:00.013+08:00

Witnessing a historic showcase; the first time ever a rock band was allowed to perform at Istana Budaya, Butterfinger's farewell gig (before Emmett migrates to Canada) and the last time they played together with the full original line-up (Emmett, Loque, Kadak, Loco) while taking an indefinite hiatus, their very first unplugged showcase in their 12-year career in the indie music scene, and the very first time they played an all-out 4 sessions in 2 days showcase playing hit songs from all 6 albums. Watching one of my most favourite bands of all time belting out some of my most favourite songs (some of which I've been listening and playing on the guitar on repeat since I was 14 years old) backed up with a six-string orchestra and a percussionist (who also doubled as a ukelele player). Attending the afternoon slot, Transcendence 10-Year Anniversary, to cover for an event write-up for Junk Magazine (my first ever real article for an actual magazine). Attending the final slot of the final day, Mari Hidup Kembali, as Butterfingers' official back-up photographer for the event. Hanging out with Emmett, Loque, Kadak, Loco, and the rest of Butterfingers' crew. By just being there to witness and experience the entire episode and all the little things that transpired in that fateful weekend. The weekend that I'll remember for the rest of my life.

Fucking. Priceless.

p/s: one more thing I probably won't ever forget; the time I babysitted Isabel while Emmett was having a meeting (the fact that I'm not a big fan of kids, I think I did pretty okay).

big love to trashy tabloid media // 110209

2009-02-11T00:41:00.021+08:00

It's bad enough that the Malay race have been getting unrelenting whiplashes for the past decade or so. It's bad enough that Malays in general carry a tainted reputation dipped in controversial issues like Malay supremacy, special rights, and so many others. It's bad enough that the Malay generalised image are synonymous with laziness, narrow mindedness and several other questionable "moral values".

Now, think about this; Mangga, Hai, Harian Metro, Kosmo, Mastika, etc etc. What comes to mind? Well, what else can it be other than uncivilised, shallow, immature, degrading, morally unsound, trashy tabloid media. Far inferior to its counterparts, E-News for example, our beloved local gossip media is at least 50 years behind. Or quite possibly even more.

I flipped through a few of those aforementioned magazines and newspapers, just to check out a couple of articles they wrote about the latest craptastic news reporting on the local indie scene. And oh my god. I sat there and actually, literally, felt embarrassed. It was so fucking kampung I can't believe people actually get paid to write such trashy nonsense. And that people actually pay and bring home such literary abominations. A lowly bastard spawn of the Western gossip media, the local versions fail utterly miserably in every possible aspect. Absolutely, astonishingly, miserably.

Talking to a few friends in the local indie scene, I gathered information that in the past few years that the local indie music scene has been picking up and supported by the mainstream media so have there been a rise in tabloid reporting of complaining, bitching, and degrading of many famous indie artistes. Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those condescending idiots who support any and every local music just because it's, well, local. But, really, don't turn to a whiny Nazi child and complain, bitch, degrade, defame, spread lies and exaggerated untruths for no plausible reason about the people at the front lines that are actually doing something to contribute positively to the scene.

And that's not the best part yet. For those who aren't very tabloid media savvy, here's a pinch of the truth for you; if you don't treat the reporters like they're the Queens Of The Fucking Universe, they'll merajuk and write nasty things about you thus exposing you to a very real risk of tarnishing your image and damaging your career. If you were finger banged as a child, had acne so disgusting your bestfriends stopped talking to you, almost failed school but managed to get into a local college through either your mommy's cronies or selling your undesirable body, later miraculously passed, graduated with a certificate or a diploma, and got a job at a local tabloid media (because no other place wants you), you'd feel pretty shitty about yourself. So, what better way to boost your self-esteem and inflate some artificial ego by being a tabloid reporter and getting superstars eating out of your ass?

I mean really, how fucking low can you get? The saddest part is the fact that a very, very large majority of the tabloid reporters are Malays. The kampung tabloid media are Bumiputera owned with a large majority of Malay employees. The artistes that they write about are predominantly Malays. The people, sorry I mean morons, who fork out their hard earned cash to buy such nonsense to read (because what else would low-life scums do in their free time, no?) and later spread around useless gossips are predominantly Malays.

In short, you have narrow minded capitalist bigots writing lies to sell a flawed and immoral product to idiotic, shallow consumers who don't actually need them. And the majority of them are all Malays. And you wonder why the Malays are in such deep shit.

twentyfuckingfive // 090209

2009-02-09T20:54:00.001+08:00

1. I believe a very, very large majority of people who believe and practice religion are ignorant idiots.

2. I believe a very, very large majority of people who talk politics are ignorant idiots.

3. I am very desensitized. You can take a shit while slitting your wrists in front of me while I have a bowl of pasta and a glass of wine and I'd be completely fine.

4. I will try absolutely anything once.

5. I have Indian, Chinese, Parsi, Arab, and Acheh blood. Half of my family are staunch Muslims, the other half are mostly Christian Chinese. Most are Protestants, some are Roman Catholics. I have Caucasian relatives in England and Australia. My ancestoral lineage can be traced back to ancient Parsi, to Darius the Great. Maybe that's why I'm so fucking confused most the time.

6. I'm a semi-perfectionist, slightly obsessive compulsive and not narcissistic enough to give a damn about what people think of me.

7. I don't fancy kids much. I prefer kittens.

8. I can never make up my mind. Never. Ever.

9. I have a to-do list that I intend to complete before I die. That includes to watch Sigur Ros live, drink snake's blood, live in India, get some dreadlocks, and backpack to South America.

10. I want a fucking tattoo.

11. I cuss too much. But that's because you're a fucking douchebag. Fuck off.

12. I'm drawn towards everything degenerate in life. I love stories of despair, lost loves, broken hearts, violence, drugs, and everything in between. Because only stories such as those carry real emotions, depth and truth. Others are just plastic and plain boring. Boo.

13. Sometimes I get spontaneously annoyed at myself when I'm being Mary-Poppins-nice to people. Especially strangers.

14. I love Itallian cuisine, hate using my hands to eat and think spicy food is more torture than an actual process of mastication.

15. I wanna be Hank Moody. Dream of Californication, baby.

16. I can imagine literally anything and everything that are out-of-your-mind impossible to imagine. But I can't see myself getting married and having kids.

17. But I believe in the concept of falling in love, soulmates, and all that mushy Hollywood crap.

18. I get easily tearjerked watching sad movies. But I've never physically cried. Hmm.

19. I hate horror movies. I'm a self-confessed pussy. But I love mindfuck films. And that's because I'm an idiot.

20. One day, I want to write a book about my grandfather's life, his childhood, his family with so many Greek mythology-like drama and nonsense, his passion for gardening and fast cars, his experiences serving in the army during the Occupation, and his relationship with his former photographer turn Nazi foot soldier bestfriend who's aunt was Stalin's personal assistant, and his present day ever so fiery nihilist comments on Malaysian politics and the education system.

21. I love reading. Especially memoirs. But I forget easily. So, most of the time I'd read a book at least twice.

22. I hate celebrating my own birthday. I think it's stupid.

23. I'm a walking hard-on. I like girls. So sue me.

24. The most interesting conversation I've ever had was with a 40 year-old father of three heroin addict of over 10 years who worked as a hotel manager and owned a multinational advertising company in Maldives. It was one of the most precious friendship I've ever had.

25. I think I just wasted 30 minutes of my life doing this. Fuck. Oh, and I hate the internet.

In my defence, I did that 25 nonsense whatever-you-call-it after hours of fruitless effort, or lack there of, to find something that's actually... not a complete waste of time. For ye strangers out there, lo and behold, welcome to my world. Or head for that matter.

Goodbye Last Year, Hello 2009

2009-01-14T01:19:00.003+08:00

Jay & Along's Wedding at Putra Heights

Dahlia & Loque's Engagement at Subang Jaya

Anas & Aliah's Solemnization at Carcosa Seri Negara

New Year Eve Spin Cycle Party at Laundry Bar feat. DJ Fuzz, DJ Soya, Raysoo & Lapsap

Drop point

Weekly Saturday night sessions at The Apartment KLCC. Great food, great music, great ambience.

New Year Countdown Showcase at No Black Tie feat. Reza Salleh, Rendra Zawawi, Paolo Delfino, Jerome Kugan, Az Samad, Shanon Shah, Markiza & Peter Hassan, Zalila Lee, Sharidir & Nizam P.

Teenage Gig Fantastic, Couple's Album Launch at MCPA feat. Bunkface & Yuna

Wall climbing virginity breaking session

Coda on stage. The last day at Lepaq Performing Arts Cafe.

One Buck Short & Friends That Loves To Party at Groove Junction feat. Bunkface & Car Crash Hearts

Somewhere over the rainbow

Channel [V] shooting & interview with Bunkface

Jom Heboh Finale, Bukit Jalil

Rock The World 8, Secret Garden, Stadium Merdeka

Fly FM Campur Chart at Laundry Bar feat. Silent Scenery, Telephony Delivery & Skudap Skudip

Sigit at UOX Play, Sungei Wang rooftop

G-Strings playing at The Apartment KLCC

Ray Cheong, a regular performer at Lepaq Performing Arts Cafe

Emmett's showcase at Laundry Bar

Bumiputera Designer Association (BDA) at MIFW

Malaysian International Fashion Week 2008, The Gardens

Kontakt III at Republic Bar feat. Jasemaine Gan, Silent Keat & Deepset

Isaac Entry showcase at No Black Tie

Bunkface at Hot FM Juara Respons, Sunway Pyramid

Djabe & Steve Hackett showcase at Laundry Bar

Folk singer-songwriter Otam raps on stage with Nizam on percusisons at Acoustic & Poetry at Lepaq Performing Arts Cafe with the help of lyrics scribbled on a bunting

Award-winning film director U-Wei Haji Shaari giving a speech at the launch of "Wayang U-Wei Dalam Seni Tampak" at FINAS

With Zang Toi himself at Zang Toi Fall & Resort 2008 Charity Fashion Show at Hotel Istana

Kokokaina @ Zee Avi performing for Acoustic Raya at Lepaq Performing Arts Cafe

Our First Event; BBQ Buka Puasa at Lepaq Performing Arts Cafe

Studio trip to Taiping

Butterfingers "Kembali" Showcase at Planet Hollywood

Convocation at UIA, Gombak

Swift Events Team at Maju Junction Merdeka Treasure Hunt 2008

Maju Junction Merdeka Treasure Hunt 2008

Weekend getaway to Port Dickson

Chot Ali & Atraz at Lepaq Performing Arts Cafe

Emmett of Butterfingers

Fly FM Campur Chart at Laundry Bar feat. Bunkface, Oh Chenta Ku & Butterfingers

3QE Classic FEI World Cup

Urbanscapes at KLPAC

Young, Posh & Merry!

Molly, Co-Founder of Young, Posh & Broke

Young, Posh & Broke at Urbanscapes 2008

Eizaq's karaoke birthday dinner at Red Box, The Curve

The Return of H.

Explosions In The Sky at Ruums, Kuala Lumpur

View from the living room of our beach front villa at Four Seasons Resort, Langkawi

White water rafting at Gopeng, Perak

New Year's Celebration at Esplanade Singapore

Sesi Istana Budaya Butterfingers

2009-01-13T20:12:00.009+08:00

PENERBITAN BUTTERWORLD presents:

Sesi Istana Budaya Butterfingers

One of Malaysia’s biggest bands, Butterfingers, is inviting you to catch them in a first ever four shows back to back musical extravaganza to be held at the prestigious Dewan Lambang Sari of Istana Budaya, in January 2009.

The showcase will be the first Butterfingers full band line up since the release of their hugely acclaimed 6th studio album, KEMBALI, six months ago, and will be the last time the band will play together before they go on an indefinite hiatus.

Saturday

17/01/09

1996 - 2001 Unplugged

With guest band Bunkface

2:30pm - 4:00pm

RM 35 per entry

Saturday

17/01/09

Mari Hidup Kembali (Sessi Gitar Kapok)

Dengan band jemputan Hujan

8:30pm - 10:00pm

RM 35 per entry

Sunday

18/01/09

Transcendence 10-year Anniversary Rock Out

2:30pm - 4:00pm

RM 35 per entry

Sunday

18/01/09

Mari Hidup Kembali (Sessi Gitar Karan)

8:30pm - 10:00pm

RM 35 per entry

*Special package price of RM 120 for all four shows*

*Do note that there is a strict dress code that must be adhered upon admittance. No round neck t-shirts, slippers or torn jeans. To be safe, dress with a collared top.

Equipments Sponsored in Part by

FP Backline.com.my

Official Radio Station

Xfm

Official Jamming Studio

Pertama Music Studio

Official Event Promoter

Ready Steady Go Events

Official Street Team

Tikus Rock Community

**Buy online from www.ticket2u.biz

**Buy from the following centres:

1. Triways Travel Network, No. 20, Jln Tun Mohd Fuad, TTDI, 60000 KL, Phone: 03.7729.1044

2. Triways Omega Travel & Tours, No. 42, 2nd. Floor, Jalan 24/70A, Desa Sri Hartamas, 50480 KL, Phone: 03.2300.2933

3. Istana Budaya, Jln Tun Razak, KL, Phone: 03.4026.5558

4. Triways Travel & Tours, 328, Level 3, Suria KLCC, Phone: 03.2161.8134

5. Ticket Charge, no 29-5, Signature Office Suite, The Boulevard, Mid Valley, Lingkaran Syed Putra, Phone: 03.2241.9999

6. Ticket2u Call Centre, No 26-2, Jln Wangsa Setia 3, Wangsa Melati, Phone: 03.4149.8600

2008 has shown a level of success in the local independent music scene that has put Butterfingers on par with their more commercial counterparts. The Malaysian independent music scene has never before garnered this kind of attention and fan base, as is proof in the massive press coverage, radio airplay and television appearances local indie bands are currently achieving.

If 2008 was the year of ‘discovering’ the local independent music scene, then 2009 will be the year of cementing its arrival. We firmly believe that the last step in this journey of getting our music fully accepted is to take it off the small stage and onto the professional stage.

The showcase will be the first Butterfingers full band line up since the release of their hugely acclaimed 6th studio album, KEMBALI, six months ago, and will be the last time the band play together before they go on indefinite hiatus when vocalist Emmett leaves Malaysia to work in Canada.

During the four shows, Butterfingers will showcase their biggest hits from all their six albums, 1.2 Milligrams, Butterworth Pushful, Transcendence, Malayneum, Selamat Tinggal Dunia and their latest Kembali.

Also featured will be two opening bands that have enjoyed recent popularity and success, Hujan and Bunkface.

All featured bands have had singles climb local music charts like X-Fresh, Hitz.FM, Era.FM and even MTV Asia, and have also been chosen as Bands of the Year by magazines like KLue and ROTTW.

Both Hujan and Bunkface will open for Butterfingers on the one day only special unplugged performance on the 17th of January. The 18th of January will see Butterfingers in full swing covering a comprehensive repertoire of 12 years worth of their noteworthy hit songs.

Butterfingers along with the aforementioned bands have been integral in taking the Malaysian music industry to the next level, and together with Istana Budaya, we feel we can raise the standards even higher.

SESI ISTANA BUDAYA BUTTERFINGERS will kick start 2009 in the most musically uplifting way and we would be honoured to share this journey with you.

...................................................................................................................

Never in a million years would I have ever imagined that I'd be working with one of my most favourite band ever for their grand finale showcase at such a prestigous venue. I've been listening to them since they released their first album in 1997, and after more than 10 years of following them from the sidelines, I get to be part of the show, help out and mingle around with the band members. They were having a production meeting with Homegrown the other day at Istana Budaya. As we were waiting for our promotions meeting, I looked at Emmett, Loque, Kadak and Loco sitting across of me, and suddenly it hit me, holy fucking shit is this for real?

Aside from Butterfingers, two other major names in the local indie music scene will be featured for the unplugged shows; Bunkface and Hujan. I'll be going for all 4 electric and unplugged shows this coming weekend. Saturday afternoon under Bunkface, at night under Ready Steady Go Events (the official promoter, whom I'm working with), Sunday afternoon and night under Junk (Yes, I know, I'm a pretty damn good freeloader hooyeah!). I'll be covering the event for a one-page write up for Junk Magazine's March '09 issue. Not only am I working with them for this showcase, but I'll also be writing about the event for a major local music publication. And suddenly it hit me, holy fucking shit is this for real?

Have 11 Days Actually Passed? Shit.

2009-01-11T01:38:00.002+08:00

Busy is good.

But the severe lack of anything other than craptastic writing is far from good. I mean, aren't I supposed to love writing? Then again, I suppose that can be an exception when you spread yourself microscopically thin over such a short period of time. Not to forget the never ending crises, half of which are self-inflicted, thus rendering the ever so often generic "you're a smart boy" half-truths people sometimes throw around at me. Or not. Whatever.

It's pretty fucked up when there are really, actually, a million and one things that I can't write about here. There's an entire imaginary archive of "shit I'm not supposed to write". I mean, that's just sad. An abundance of writing material for you to laugh at me about, ponder against the glow of the screeen in the dark, cringe in complete utter disgust (think 2girls1cup, necrophillia, and tree sex), and read about the ridiculous nonsense I write (or sometimes attempt to write too hard because I'm anal retentive) and shake your head so hard you'd sprain it.

I read through my past few posts, or rather a sorry excuse of a bunch of so-called "writings". I mean, shit. I am so ashamed of myself. Was I typing with my nose? Did I had a watergun loaded with horse piss aimed at my nostrils? Am I retarded? Are you stupid?

I mean really, what the fuck am I trying to say?

Busy Bee

2008-12-14T17:13:00.004+08:00

Why I've been MIA and why my posts are getting lesser and a notch more boring:

- blogging for Laundry Bar, Republic Bar and The Apartment

- organizing events at Lepaq Performing Arts Cafe

- snapping photos for Bunkface's shows

- shopping for furniture and packing stuff to move houses

- etc and etc and etc

And those are the "big" ones, I haven't even included the tiny nonsenses in between. Not blogging often means either I'm super busy or I have terrible time management. I think both applies just as well for me. I have so many things going on now I can't even sit down for a minut to think about what to blog. And this is me forcing myself to write this completely inane post before I've to rush off.

Macam lah masalah negara kalau aku tak blog kan. Kecoh ah aku ni.

There's so many things to write about that I hope and hope and hope I'll find the time to really glue my ass on the seat and write till the next morning. Till next time.

Family Matters

2008-12-04T00:14:00.000+08:00

Two men, one American and an Indian were sitting in a bar drinking shot after shot. The Indian man said to the American, "You know my parents are forcing me to get married to this so called homely girl from a village whom I haven't even met once. We call this arranged marriage. I don't want to marry a woman whom I don't love... I told them that openly and now have a hell lot of family problems."

The American said, "Talking about love marriages... I'll tell you my story".

"I married a widow whom I deeply loved and dated for 3 years."

"After a couple of years, my father fell in love with my step-daughter and so my father became my son-in-law and I became my father's father-in-law. Legally now my daughter is my mother and my wife my grandmother."

"More problems occurred when I had a son. My son is my father's brother and so he is my uncle. Situations turned worse when my father had a son. Now my father's son i.e. my brother is my grandson."

"Ultimately, I have become my own grand father and I am my own grandson."

"And you say you have family problems?!"

"Gimme a break!"

Sundae

2008-11-30T12:55:00.000+08:00

My new favourite local act, Sundae.

Watch, listen, and prepare to be utterly mesmerized.

Spontaneous Equations at 5am

2008-11-27T01:12:00.000+08:00

She was sleeping when I called her. She woke up, and of all the fifty over songs in her playlist, Placebo's This Picture was playing. The call was exactly 13 minutes long and ended at 5.04am on 26-3-08.

Half of 26 is 13.
5 is after 4.
Half of 6 is 3.
The sum of 2 and 6 is 8.

Among those numbers there are 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8. There's no number 7. Placebo's This Picture is the 7th song in my playlist that's currently playing. I called her for the first time after we made the deal to not contact each other at 1.42am. There's no number 3. In the "13 minutes, 5.04am, 26-3-08", number 3 appears twice. So altogether there are 3 number 3s. Yuna's Dan Sebenarnya, the song I'm listening to now as I'm typing this out, is the 3rd song in my playlist. The sum of 1, 4 and 2 is 7. The number 7 is the missing number in "13 minutes, 5.04am, 26-3-08" and Placebo's This Picture is the 7th song in my playlist.

I buzzed Bing online and he's watching Numbers on AXN.

Hmm.

Quote Me A Sonnet

2008-11-26T00:47:00.002+08:00

Two People and A Couch

2008-11-25T15:05:00.000+08:00

He asked me, "Would you like to go and see a clinical psychologist?"

I took a long pause... Dreaming of swimming in a rainbow pool of Prozac, Xanax, Valium, Zoloft, Lithium, Tramadol, Erimin, Subuxone, Stilnox, Nitrazepam, Lorazepam, and some sugar and spice. I thought about staring at the know-it-all doctor, reading every nuance of his poorly engineered body language. I thought about reading the script of what he'd say at least 2 minutes before it spits out of his mouth. I thought about the sky high fees he'd charge per hour, and imagined what I could buy with a few hundred Ringgit every hour. I thought about walking off at the end of the fruitless session and telling him, "Go to the wet market downtown, score yourself a tube, lose your mind, crawl through a breakdown, and then you're qualified to come talk to me".

After the longest silence, I said,

"Well... I think that wouldn't help much".

Lonely Letters

2008-11-24T23:27:00.001+08:00

I miss reading.

An Ode to Everyone

2008-11-23T01:49:00.001+08:00

"Hell is other people" - Sartre

Your Momma

2008-11-22T09:56:00.001+08:00

Kadang-kadang mulut aku memang macam sial. Perkataan seperti fuck, fucking, fucker, motherfucker, takkan terlepas dari vocabulary aku. Bila aku melatah, hampir tiap-tiap kali aku akan tercakap,

"Eh mak kau babi"

Kalau tak pun,

"Eh mak kau puki"

Kalau tak pun,

"Eh mak kau cibai"

Aku dah basuh mulut berjuta kali, tapi tak berkesan jugak. Mungkin aku kena jampi?

But don't take it personally, I have nothing against your mother. Especially if she's hot.

Time of Your Life

2008-11-19T23:28:00.010+08:00

My brother just completed secondary school and was scouting for colleges to enroll in. So, before anyone jumped the gun, I talked to both my parents and my brother to consider taking a year off and not rush into college. I felt that it was the best thing he could possibly do at that time to grow as a person. Because going for classes, handing in assignments and sitting for exam doesn't do that for you.

I've noticed through experience that the majority of college students lack the maturity and exposure to truly survive and thrive in school. It's odd really, seeing seemingly adult students not wearing uniforms but reflecting the image and way of thinking that of a secondary school kid. I thought to myself that something has got to be wrong somewhere when there is such an alarming number of cases like these. Isn't it odd when you know that so many of your friends and friends of friends have absolutely no idea what they're doing and where they're heading to? That most of them have no clue as to what they want out of life?

The root of the problem stems from the educational system, upbringing and culture. Our system teaches us to memorize facts, not think. Our system tells us what to do, not question why. Our system spoon feeds us, not to be proactive. And as a result the factories of substance-less so-called educational institutions of lacklustre quality produces clueless robots. How else do you explain the high unemployment rate among fresh graduates? How else do you explain the lack of human capital? How else do you explain highly skilled workers exporting their talents and trades overseas?

All these questions do not need any answer. It's been lying bare naked on the ground unnoticed and unquestioned for far too long. Queries need to be poked at to seek solutions to this pathetic epidemic. Changing a system that has been set in stone for decades is a pretty daunting task, to say the least. But there is always a way out, through, and over the problem. Which brings me back to the dialogue I had with my parents and my brother; to take a year off.

I remember how school was like. It was a safe, comfortable and fun environment. Despite being a curious reader of everything under the sun, I wasn't aware of anything much aside from that cocoon called adolescence. What you know or read or listen about is of no comparison to what you go through and learn and experience. College and university on the other hand is an entirely new, independent and free terrain. In that place we get to meet people from all walks of life and we're exposed to many, many more things, in the most general sense of the word. There is just such a big disparity of experiences between secondary school and university. Diving head first without adequate preparation can be pretty disastrous.

Which is exactly why one too many students struggle during their college and university years. Simply because they didn't bridge that gap. It was a leap too soon, too rash, and too hasty. Taking time off gives an opportunity for those pimpled-face kids to put one foot in the real world, experience new things, meet new people, learn and be exposed to things they never thought even existed. Even a number of Ivy League universities in the States, including Yale, have proposed to give prospective students one year off before they enroll in their first year.

There's that time, that once in a lifetime chance, for them to do whatever the hell they feel like doing. Work, volunteer, travel, anything is possible. It's a time that they can afford to make mistakes, and learn from it themselves without getting an hour long lecture from the parental unit, without getting detention, without others telling and instructing them what's the right thing to do. It would be the first time in their lives that they experience what it feels like to be an adult, to be your very own person.

The world being as competitive as it is propels parents to push their kids through education as fast as possible and graduate as quick as possible with as many As as possible so they can kick start their career at as young of an age as possible. There's too many that have and are partaking in this ridiculous rat race to which the majority of the herd losses their way half of the time and the winners end up being a very vague (and sometimes pure lucky) minority. Which begs the question; has that always been the formula to success? If you say yes, I strongly suggest you slap yourself and forget whatever you've read because clueless robots suck.

If doing what's "normal" proves to be a path to success, then we would still be a non-Federated land under the imperial rule of the British, Islam would have never made it as a recognised religion, and we'd be at least a few hundred years behind because countless of other would've-been creators, innovators, revolutionaries, movers and shakers didn't take that road less taken, didn't thought outside of the box, and didn't go against the grain of order.

Mission Not So Impossible

2008-11-17T21:04:00.000+08:00

A few years ago, some friends and I went downtown for a class assignment. On the way back we planned to get some DVDs to go back home and watch. We passed by a street vendor and decided to browse through. After what seemed like an hour or so, we got a bunch of stuff. Including porn. So we went home and put on the first CD. We waited and waited, and a guy come on screen. So, okay, and we waited some more. And another guy appeared. "Oh a menage a trois!", we thought. Complete oblivious fools we were, and we waited and waited like patient Buddhist monks. And suddenly, the both of them got naked and went into the bathtub. By then the rest of my friends shrieked like a bunch of high school girls and yelled in perfect unison "Shit! Gay porn!". So apparently those uber expensive "special" DVDs were fake after all. Fucking wankers.

I was pissed, to say the least. But, thankfully, I got his number. Instead of calling and screaming every profanity known to man, I waited till the next day. I went out, bought a DiGi prepaid number, added the DVD vendor's number to Friends & Family, and begun texting him.

After a few weeks of texting no less than 20-30 text messages of excerps from Bible verses, he messaged me back. "Gua cari lu punya keluarga gua bunuh semua! Pukimak lu! Lu ingat gua siapa!". And I continued on with more messages. One day, instead of getting a dial tone, I got a "The number you have dialed is not in service". Mission accomplished.

Last week, I got into an accident. Long story short, a massive trailer "bumped" into my car. On purpose. After exchanging some public theatrical display of middle fingers, we pulled over and I took down his plate number and phone number. I was having a bad week and that incident just completely fucking blew everything out of the water. But this time around I won't trouble myself like the last time with the "accidental" gay porn incident. I'll get others to do the work for me.

I'll create a profile and copy paste on a number of well-known transexual escort sites and gay dating pages. I'm also planning to go on mIRC and spread the number around a few very well-known gay channels. It's so easy to find a fuck there I shit you not. I'm thinking about about keeping that number, so in future whenever I fill out forms or in any case I need to give out my number, I'll use that number. Hence, more spamming.

Expect a lot of texts and calls from horny strangers looking for some cock. If that lorry driver happens to be single, gay and horny, he better thank me later in hell. If not, well, hopefully when I ring in a couple of months time I'd get a "Nombor yang anda dail tiada dalam perkhidmatan".

Acoustic & Poetry at Lepaq

2008-11-14T04:18:00.006+08:00

For the first time, Lepaq Performance Arts Cafe will be hosting Acoustic & Poetry @ Lepaq a unique showcase featuring acoustic music and poetry reading! This is a must watch for music and poetry lovers alike. And if you've never been to a show like this, why not make this the first time? New experiences are always refreshing and rejuvenating. There's always a chance for pleasant surprises. And yes, this Saturday night will be full of 'em.

Poets that will be gracing the stage tomorrow night are Dizzy & The, Adam Kasturi, Wani Ardy, Ashraf Ishak, Nafisah Nadirah and Zara Ismail.

Hope to see all of you there this coming Saturday night!

Of Vague Perceptions

2008-11-12T02:07:00.005+08:00

How convenient it is to sit on the other side of the fence and pass judgement on a matter when you are completely oblivious about the fact that you don't fully comprehend the situation objectively, logically, rationally. Like a cat deciphering a conversation between two persons. Like a blind man painting a picture of the sunset. Like a schizophrenic talking about quantum physics. Like a book writing it's own fictional story.

Electric Angeland

2008-11-11T02:22:00.000+08:00

Shai (1985-2008)

2008-11-09T01:58:00.004+08:00

Rest well, my friend.

Would You Like to Blackmail Me?

2008-11-04T23:44:00.000+08:00

There's a picture of me half naked covered in whipped cream. Another picture of me wearing nothing but a girl's hot pants. And another one of me half naked in a towel and my underwear on my head. And a mugshot of my bare ass bending over. All of which are not in my possession. Cun gila!

Yoga is Evil

2008-11-02T15:19:00.003+08:00

"The National Fatwa Council will come out with a ruling on yoga exercise on Friday"

I get that Yoga is an important philosophical and spiritual component in Buddhism and Hinduism. And I get that Islam rejects worshiping idols and statues, and that most Hindu statues depicts their gods in a state of Yogic meditation (sitting crossed legs, with both hands rested on each knee). So, I suppose, that's the rationale behind National Fatwa Council's move to ban Muslims from practicing Yoga. It all boils down to the practice of Yoga's close links to the two religions. I mean, anything non-Muslim is pure evil right? Even though Buddhism is the only religion in the history of mankind to have never exercised violence in the name of religion, they're still pure evil. Right?

"When those involved take them as trends, such cultures can lead to a serious crime according to Syariah law and this can destroy the family institution", said Datuk Wan Mohamad Sheikh Abdul Aziz.

I have to agree with him. There is no doubt that practicing Yoga, sitting crossed legged like a Hindu god, stretching arms and legs, and controlling your breathing, will lead you astray from the teachings of Islam, castrate yourself from your family and the rest of Muslim brothers and sisters, and eventually shake the very foundations of Islam. Mimicking any action that is similar to anything other than Islam can "lead to a serious crime". It is also quite "trendy" to take up an activity such as Yoga, therefore this "cult" has a potential to convince Muslims to deviate from the teachings of Islam. Yes, stretching limbs and breathing can actually be that seductive, powerful and evil.

I would like to propose to the National Fatwa Council to include in a few more in their what-to-ban-next-because-we-ain't-got-shit-to-do list. These additions might help feed their boredom, those poor old foggies.

The Council should take these into account as well,

- Television
- Internet
- Non-Islamic clothing
- Magazines
- Music performances
- Cinemas
- Non-Islamic books
- Close relationships to non-Muslims
- Intimate conversations with non-Muslims
- and many, many, many, many, many, many more.

There are just too many things that are plaguing the Muslim community. The evil Western culture has infiltrated into the minds and souls of our young ones through mediums such as the Internet, television, magazines, and concerts. Even if you're an Ustaz or Ustazah with a vast knowledge of Islam and having an iman as tough as diamonds, demonic activities such as Yoga can still lead you astray and ultimately send you to Hell for all eternity.

Islamic councils worldwide must join forces and erase all these terrible, terrible demons (e.g. technology). We must save ourselves and our souls. For the sake of our family and fellow Muslim brothers and sisters.

And the only way that we can ever flourish and eventually book a one-way ticket to Heaven is to nuke our asses back to the 4th century BC. Where our only form of amusement is juggling rocks, riding camels and peeing in the river. There won't be television nor the Internet to tarnish our beliefs. There won't be any dangerous activities to lead us astray.

Especially, Yoga.

p/s: Remember kids, if we ever become evil, it is never our fault, but always someone or something else's fault. Especially the kafirs.

Revisited: Escapism

2008-10-31T22:07:00.002+08:00

We were sitting by the lake. I was listening to him talk about his past life, regrets and hopes for the future. He was playing some Bob Marley on the ragged old guitar. I sang along with his raspy voice and crisp strumming. At the middle of Redemption Song, he stopped. And he started to tell me a story,

"Dulu aku selalu busk dekat Central Market. Tiap-tiap hari kau akan nampak aku dekat main entrance, dekat Annexe, dekat dengan pasar, merata-rata. Dengan rambut aku sampai pinggang, gian macam nak mati, dengan tak mandi berminggu, busking pon pasal cari duit nak hisap fit. Orang ingat aku gila.

Tapi dia orang tak pikir. Orang gila mana boleh main Bob Marley. Robert Johnson. Pink Floyd. Black Sabbath masa zaman awal diaorang. Led Zep. Manusia memang bodoh kadang-kadang kalau kau nak tau. Anyway.

Kalau kau nak tahu, masa kau kecik dulu aku pernah duduk Europe. Banyak tahun jugak lah. Masa tu dalam 80an. Aku ada lah kerja sambilan situ-sini. Nak support my dream of being a professional musician. Lepas tu, satu hari, I just decided to leave. Aku pon dah lupa kenapa, tapi bottomline, aku ciao keluar dari Malaysia. Aku jual segala benda yang aku ada. Segalanya lah. Dengan satu backpack, aku dengan awek aku masa tu beli sepasang one way ticket to Europe.

Masa mula-mula tu memang syiok. Tinggal kat hostel murah, minum beer murah, jalan sana jalan sini. Lepas tu duit mula kurang. Sampai satu hari habis lesap semuanya.

Masa tu lah aku mula busking untuk cari duit. Europe memang banyak buskers. Banyak gila beb! Aku buat kawan dengan buskers dekat sana, lepas tu aku belajar lah dari diaorang sikit sebanyak. Dari situ aku travel and busk all over Europe. Amsterdam, Paris, Milan, Bordeaux, Berlin, Rome, Barcelona, fuck man everywhere!

Macam-macam aku dah experience kat sana. Seronok memang seronok, tapi kadang-kadang tu susah jugak. There were nights aku dengan awek aku terpaksa tidur dekat tepi jalan. By the riverbanks. Dekat taman. Tumpang tidur dalam brothels. Merempat sini sana. Bila duit sempit makan tak penting, asalkan ada beer! Anyway.

Lepas entah berapa tahun aku tak ingat kau jangan tanya aku, baru aku balik Malaysia. Masa tu lah orang start busking. Believe it or not, aku lah one of the first buskers kat KL. I shit you not bro. Kau tanya lah kawan baik aku tu, Amy Search. Dulu dia pon busker. Dalam bilik. Hahaha!

Dah gelap ni. Maghrib pon nak dekat. Jom pegi surau dulu."

Last Week was Funny

2008-10-29T00:48:00.003+08:00

- Buddha Bar has a song that if you listen closely, you can hear the guy saying with complete intoxicated whisper, "kote... phun... kote... phul", again and again and again and again.

- There's also another song that's mixed with a traditional Malay song. I thought that was pretty cool.

- Please go to http://www.failblog.org. If not, you really do fail.

- A couple of Zuzu's photos appeared on http://www.koleksiawek.blogspot.com. At first I thought it was one of those sleazy sexmelayu sites, but it wasn't all that bad. The author even credited me for the photos.

- A's facebook status: "Human beings in general are nice... but I need to smile more often". B replied to the status saying, "Anjing". And A replied back, "You wanker. Cakap benda positif tak boleh. Aku harap kau cirit lagi malam ni. Keluar pacat".

- One of my most favourite, over-used teka teki; Why did the dinosaurs went extinct? And, the answer is, jeng jeng jeng, because Ultraman killed them all! Hm. Eh, laugh lah. Funny okay.

- And here's some more,

I have very amusing friends.

A car decided to "stop by" for a teh tarik at The Attap (formerly Uncle Don).

Dimanakah Bahasa Ibunda Kita?

2008-10-28T01:15:00.004+08:00

Sometimes, I feel ashamed that I think and write in ~~English~~.

Sara Aziz (1988-2008)

2008-10-26T13:29:00.006+08:00

I came across some stories about her online.

It's a shame that I never got the chance to get to know her personally. Although I do remember adding her on flickr and we did correspond a little bit there, a long time ago. I can see now that we do have several mutual friends. What a small, small world. Coincidentally, she's also doing architecture and we also have a mutual passion, photography. What a loss, to someone so talented, so young. But of course, things like these are never a complete loss, partly thanks to the internet.

I can see now why I personally find it hard to escape the net. In Sara Aziz's story, the websites only now act as a shrine, a place where her passion and herself is now immortalized not only in virtual memory but also as a place that strangers like me are made aware of her existence. It saddens me so much that someone like her had to leave this world so early, so tragically.

Perusing through her pages I can feel that she's a person that is passionate, full of energy and above all, hopeful. Rarely do I come across a photographer's work, especially someone still fresh and new in the field, that is able to convey so much emotion into a photograph. Be it animate or inanimate. I added her on flickr because I thought she had so much potential, and I did admire her modest collection of work then, and all the more now. It's odd that I don't remember her from last year's Rantai. I only found out that she exhibited her work there after browsing through her blog just now.

I've lost a number of friends and family myself. And although I never got to know Sara on a personal level, but I do feel a loss. I do feel saddened. And I feel, in some level, the pain that her family and friends are going through. It's the most difficult thing in the world to lose someone you love. How terrible it must feel.

Sara, thank you for sharing yourself. If not because of this thing called the world wide web, I wouldn't have known you even existed. Your life and your passions will never be wasted. It is now forever immortalized, in virtual memory, and in the memory of family, friends and countless of random strangers.

Al-Fatihah.

Sara Aziz's Blog

Sara Aziz's Flickr

Sara Aziz's Fotopages

Sara Aziz's Deviantart

Technorati Links to Sara Aziz

Post-Acoustic Raya

2008-10-21T17:35:00.004+08:00

Rashdan Harith

Wani Ardy

Anis (from Sundae)

Zee Avi (formerly known as Kokokaina)

Hanis Arifin

Cupcakes by Karl Hilton.

And I'm the unofficial penulis event details atas billboard.

This banner was done during the Buka Puasa event on 27th Sept. Warms my heart seeing this photo again :)

I can't believe I haven't signed on this yet. Kept of nyanyuk-ing.

The first group to arrive. Thank you so much for your support. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to your event :( Next time round I will I promise. I love you guys!

Inilah dia gambar orang buat kerja last minute dengan penuh gaya atas stage.

It's a modest sized place, but trust me, we have big things in store :)

"Beauty and the Beast" - Sam's very own words, not mine!

Remaja zaman sekarang... Ish ish ish. *geleng kepala*

Ray, Azrul, Zee, some hot chick, Alda, his girlfriend.

Farhan from Voce. A new up-and-coming acapella group.

Part of the crowd, almost maxed out at Lepaq and spilling onto the streets.

Zee + Zara = BFF.

I had one of the best Saturday nights of my life. It was much, much less tiring than the previous event, but it was so much better in so many ways. The line-up was superb, the performances were full of energy, the organization was less kelam kabut, the crowd was great, and we got many feedbacks from friends, performers and random guests that they had a great time. It's an amazing feeling to have accomplished what we have in such a short span of time.

It warms my heart seeing young, talented musicians being able to do what they love and having people appreciate them. Even if the number of crowd is rather modest, but, baby steps. What matters most is that we are doing something to help them, and in a way, to help to the local independent music scene to survive and grow further. People need to know that there are places like Lepaq Cafe and that there are actually many very, very talented musicians out there.

The only reason I'm doing all of this is out of faith and passion. It's an amazing feeling to know that you're part of a bigger picture, of a bigger and important cause. That even though all you're doing are mere ripples, but you are doing something. To make a difference, to progress, to help others.

Music have always been my passion. All the more music by my own countrymen. This truly is a dream come true. Even if this is only going to be a two, three, or merely several times affair. But it will surely stay with me for all time. This is a truly special time for me. The people I've met and the experiences I've gone through in this short frame of time have been nothing short of amazing.

Here's to, hopefully, better things to come. :)

Hari Bintang Jatuh

2008-10-19T04:32:00.001+08:00

ACOUSTIC PERFORMANCES

Para Senandung

Azmyl Yunor / Ana Raffali / Apple Juice

Bintang Batu / Captain G / From Cadillac To Geisha

Joshua Foong / Liyana Fizi / Rashdan Harith

Ray & Ash / Rendra Zawawi / Rina S.

The Fridays / The Siblings

POETRY RECITALS

Pencengkam Jiwa

Ashraf Ishak / Dianne Dayanna / Fynn Jamal

Nona Cici Suleiman / Shaira Amira

Wak Dol / Zahiril Adzim

VIDEO SCREENINGS

Penglipur Lara

A collage of "Ke Hadapan Bintang Jatuh" confessions finally revealed.

VISUAL EXHIBITION

Penghenti Masa

Independent photographers and artists confessing through their works.

SATURDAY MARKET

Pasar Sabtu

Everything under one roof. The best reason to spend your duit raya!

ADMISSION: RM10

Wani Ardy's Hari Bintang Jatuh is the official exhibition of a compilation of works from her brainchild, Mission Confession: Ke Hadapan Bintang Jatuh. I could safely say that this project is in some ways similar to Post Secret, but with a unique twist. Just so you know, this project is the first of its kind in Malaysia. To get to know more about Ke Hadapan Bintang Jatuh, click here.

For more information:

Contact numbers:
012-9072507 (Jasmin Ghazalli)
013-2243644 (Kerr Abdullah)

Email:
kehadapanbintangjatuh@gmail.com

Websites:
http://www.myspace.com/waniardy
http://kehadapanbintangjatuh.blogspot.com

Also,

I will be participating in the photography exhibition (under my usual alias, Daniel Shinzu) and will also open a booth selling secondhand items like books, CDs, clothes, and a million other random nonsense. I'll also be tag-teaming with Not Frumpy, who will be selling an awesome, unique range of clothing items! Do visit their site for a sneak peak.

Hope to see all of you there!

Acoustic Raya Showcase at Lepaq Cafe

2008-10-10T00:48:00.005+08:00

Lepaq Performing Arts Cafe is hosting an acoustic showcase especially for this month's Aidilfitri celebrations. Lepaq Cafe believes that our modestly sized venue is no hindrace to hold an acoustic gig with a line up as long as a mini Rock The World concert.

Starting from 6.00pm till late, over 20 performers will grace the stage and knock your pants off. With a rojak variety of singer songwriters, bands, a few songbirds and an acapella group, it would surely be an unforgettable night at Lepaq Cafe.

We will be selling our super finger licking good lemang and rendang. Come with an empty stomach and fill it up with our specially homemade Raya food! We only get to have lemang and rendang for a month in a year. Before this month ends, make the most out of it!

Kokokaina will be performing at Acoustic Raya @ Lepaq!

Also, Rendra Zawawi and Izzy Mohamed will be selling their EPs there! Be sure to bring some spare cash ;)

Acoustic Raya @ Lepaq is proudly supported by Don't Panic Malaysia.

Yuna

2008-10-08T01:37:00.017+08:00

Here's to better things to come for Yuna. She truly is a rare breed. If you ever got to know her, you'd find that who she is as a person and her music is one and the same thing. Honest and pure in every way possible. You don't find that kind of quality much in music these days.

Come on over to KLPAC this Sunday 13th October at 3pm. Last I heard there's only about less than 100 tickets available. RM25 entrance fees includes cover charge and one copy of Yuna EP. Opening acts by Otam and Sundae. Both are must, must watch performers. So what are you waiting for? Beg, borrow, steal some dough and head over to Indicine this coming Sunday!

This video was shot last year at Zouk's Terrace Bar during Raw on Stage for Live & Loud. That night was officially the first time I saw her perform live and the first time we met after disappearing from each other's radar for more than a year. It was quite a night.

Dan Sebenarnya at Raw on Stage, Terrace Bar, Zouk. December 2007:

Deeper Conversation at Layar Tanchap, Shah Alam. January 2008:

Eventide and in the Morning (Revisited)

2008-10-01T00:48:00.000+08:00

I can still vividly remember hearing the takbir Raya for the first time. I was a few years old back then when we were still living in Taman Putra. It was very early in the morning, just as the sun was rising, at an unusual time for me to be up. Wandering around the house half awake and groggy, I heard a faint sound coming from the outside.

Out of curiosity, I walked to the locked front door to peer outside and inspect what that sound was and where was it coming from. I looked around and saw people with white jubah, baju melayu, and white telekung walking towards the nearby mosque. I clutched the cold grills with both hands, with complete childlike wonder, peering further into that faint, mysterious sound.

And then it came. Floating frighteningly, rapidly, soothingly through the peaceful still morning air. The serene music sent tiny ripples throughout my body. A million goosebumps erupted on my skin and sent a sudden shiver down my spine. That was how I felt the first time in my life that I heard the takbir Raya. Years and years have since passed, and it still gives me that same feeling from that morning in Taman Putra. That sensation that resonates and uplifts me like nothing else. A sense of peace and melancholic serenity.

I've never heard of any sound, any song, any music, more beautiful than that. And I know I'll never hear anything else that will sound any more beautiful than that.

(I've posted this before, but I think this is a more appropriate time for this post)

Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri to all of you.

Hope you'll have a spectacular time getting fat on ketupat and rendang.

I know I will.

"Ornament your Eid celebrations with the Taqbir" - Prophet Muhammad S.A.W.

Warkah

2008-09-27T02:51:00.001+08:00

Takkan lagi aku menunggu

Kau hadir di dalam mimpi-mimpiku

Puasku mengharapkan dirimu

Seperti mereka yang punya cinta

Diriku tanpa dirimu kau tempuhi penuh bahagia

Diriku mahu kau tahu

Pedih ini kau tak terasa

Warkahku mengharapkan dirimu

Seperti yang aku kenali dulu

Setiaku menantikan dirimu

Seperti setianya terhadap diriku

Tapiku melepaskan mu

Melangkah namun tak berdaya

Terusku terus menunggu

Cinta yang takkan pernah ada...

Lailatulqadar

2008-09-25T02:51:00.000+08:00

"On the night of the Lailatulqadar, the Archangel Gabriel leads a group of angels and sweeps down the Earth. They would scour the lands and whisper prayers to every living Muslim brothers and sisters. The Archangel Gabriel has 100 wings, but two of which he only opens once every year during the Holy Night. And on the Holy Night of the Lailatulqadar, the angel Gabriel would spread his two sacred wings so wide that it covers the Earth from East to West."

The taklim Subuh was read in Bahasa, of course. It was difficult trying to remember what was said on that early morning. I can only vaguely remember the story. The sun was rising, the air was cold, quiet, calm. Everyone was half asleep, including me. I can't recall from which Hadith was the story taken from. But I do remember that it is one of the very few that really struck and stuck with me.

Buka Puasa BBQ at Lepaq Cafe

2008-09-21T17:20:00.014+08:00

It's not always that you can have an all-you-can-eat buka puasa BBQ buffet while listening to live music, no? Well, if you have RM20+ (that's only like 2 RM10 prepaid topups) and a bit of time to spare before packing off to balik kampung, do drop by Lepaq Cafe at Desa Hartamas this coming Saturday on the 27th September from 6.30pm to 10.30pm!

(for a sneak preview of how the place looks and feels like, click here.)

There will be acoustic performances by Radzlan, Arabella, Hanis & Friends, Voce (acapella), Miss Daya, Chot Ali and the Bandbin (formerly of Bau, must see!) and Captain G. And special guest performances by Ray Cheong, Rendra Zawawi and many more! Plus, the event will be covered by TV3's Remaja and sponsored by Don't Panic Malaysia! For those who have RSVP-ed confirmed there will be door gifts waiting for you on that day.

For you Facebookers, do check out the event page at Jom Berbuka & berBBQ @ Lepaq Cafe. If you don't have a Facebook account, contact Zara (016-2366617/017-3024840) or Atraz (019-3136915). Come on come all! Bring your friends, family, pets, anybody and everybody!

p/s: here is Ray Cheong playing John Mayer's Gravity, a must see, enjoy!

Mrs and Mrs Ronson

2008-09-18T23:02:00.002+08:00

(taken from celebritysmackblog.com)

They look like the happiest, most unlikely match I've ever seen. This is one thing I love about celebrity gossips; the norms they live by in Hollywood seems so otherworldly and flat out insane to the rest of us. This might just be one of the few news these days that really caught my attention. Mrs Mean Girls with a female DJ. Bisexual scandal? I can accept that. But marriage? Hot damn.

There's hardly any faith in celebrity marriages to actually last. That goes without saying. But I think that "norm" in tempestuous and often fleeting celebrity marriages is becoming a norm among regular Joes like the rest of us. With divorce rates getting ever so higher each year, it does seem like a worrying trend. Maybe going gay is the way. Is it that hard to find love these days?

I sure hope it's an obsolete truth, not an absolute one.

Remember Remember the 16th of September

2008-09-14T05:15:00.015+08:00

Surely I'm not the only one anxiously waiting for 16th September. Or 20th September for that matter. Or am I?

Since Dato Seri Anwar Ibrahim returned to politics, I must say, things have been rather... entertaining. In the most scariest way possible. It begun, I believe, from the BERSIH rally last year. Then came the HINDRAF rally. We all know what happened on both days. Peaceful protesters armed with nothing more than a yellow t-shirt, banners and their voices met with police with full riot gear, tear gas and chemical laced water cannons. Both by which were covered extensively by local and foreign media. Attracting attention from prominent international medias like CNN, BBC, and Al-Jazeera to name a few.

The next milestone, and a milestone it was, happened on 8th March 2008. Fastforward to a few decades, you might flip Utusan Malaysia one day and find a short write up on that day under the column of Hari Ini Dalam Sejarah. Since the historic year of 1969, Barisan Nasional has never conceded it's 2/3 majority votes. The Opposition parties managed to capture over 37% of the majority votes, which translates to capturing 82 out of 222 parliamentary seats. To add salt on a bad enough wound, 5 out of 31 states was won over by the Opposition parties. It was, for lack of a better word, unprecedented.

To say Barisan Nasional faired terribly would be an extreme understatement. In the previous 2004 election, Pak Lah headed UMNO (who we all know to be the de facto ruler of Barisan Nasional thus the de facto ruler of the country) together with MCA, MIC, DAP, Gerakan, PPP, PBB, LDP and other parties from Sabah and Sarawak, and literally bulldozed through the elections to win a historic popular votes of over 90%. They won over 64% of majority votes by securing 198 out of 219 parliamentary seats.

When you compare both results from 2004 and 2008, it is even more evident how huge of a gap it really is. In that span of 4 years, Pak Lah and Barisan Nasional as a whole somehow managed to piss off the rakyat well enough to lose over 58 seats, 400,000 popular votes, 5 states and decreased the popular votes percentage from 90% to a mere 50.4%. So, can things get any worse than that? Well, of course it can. And of course it did.

On the 25th of May 2008, Domestic Trade and Consumer Affairs Minister Datuk Shahrir Ahmad announced that there will not be any fuel price hike. Twenty million sighs of relief. About one week after that, Datuk Shahrir Ahmad then said that they government plans to raise the price of fuel in August. Twenty million cusses and swears and collective shouts of "Macam sial!" and "Haram jadah!" and "Tiu!" and "Punani!" and, well, you get the picture. And then comes my favourite part. On the very next day, our beloved Prime Minister Dato Seri Abdullah Badawi cooly announces that the price of petrol will be increased to RM2.70 per litre as of midnight. Tadaa! Complete pandemonium.

With the price of oil rising, pardon me, skyrocketing, all prices of consumer goods took a turn for the worse. In such a short period of time, the overall cost of living shot up like never before. The construction industry was hit worst when the price of concerete and steel went over the roof, with the price of steel increased to over 100%. In addition, the government announced that electricity tariffs will be revised on the 1st of July. It was probably a typo on their part because they meant to say "rised" not "revised".

People started to protest, through the web and on the streets, albeit in small numbers (there were also protesters protesting against protesting during that time, which I found amusing to no end). The reverberation can be heard through mamak stalls to cubicles to classrooms and to sidewalks. As a response, the government agreed to a debate on July 15th between Dato' Shabery Cheek and Dato' Seri Anwar Ibrahim over the current oil price increase issue. Millions of people saw the live debate and we can all objectively judge that, with all due respect, Dato' Shabery Cheek got served by Dato' Seri Anwar Ibrahim. So, that didn't pan out too well for the government.

And then Raja Petra wrote an article on Malaysia Today claiming that the Deputy Prime Minister Dato' Seri Najib Razak was involved with the murder of Altantuya. And then Raja Petra got arrested, for the gazillioth time. And then Dato' Seri Najib went to Masjid Jamek to swear that he has never met nor had anything to do with Altantatuya. And then came the sodomy case against Dato' Seri Anwar. And then he went to the Turkish Embassy to sought shelter and protection. And then he said otherwise, "Oh it was only a friendly visit,". And then came the whole DNA fiasco, the police asking for it but he refused to give any sample for fear that it might be tampered with. And then Pak Lah said the DNA they obtained from him during the 1998 trial expired (well I wonder how DNA from dinosaurs who died hundreds of thousands of years ago manages to be extracted). And then Saiful Bukhari Azlan went to the mosque to swear that he really did got fudgepacked. And then later that same imam who conducted his swearing made a public statement that such swearing is not legal in Islam and that he had in fact been forced by his superiors to do it.

By that time, I burnt all my newspapers and ran to the toilet and profusely vomitted blood from over consumption of all those nauseating nonsense politics smeared all over the news. And I can't even begin talking about independent online news and amatuer political scientist wannabe blogs. It was all getting a tad bit too entertaining for me. But of course, I'm a sucker for sensational stories and followed on anyway. Nauseating, vomitting blood and all.

There were too much crap going on at that time with too many different parties going berserk, pointing fingers and shifting blame to different sides that I'm not going to bother much on the insane amount of conflicting details in between.

The most recent case involving Dato' Ahmad Ismail making racist statements, I believe, is one of the main highlights in today's local political circus. I find his actions too abhorrent to call him Dato', so I'm just going to call him Ahmad. His apparent arrogance and refusal to use any measure of common sense speaks volumes of his character. What he did was callous, irresponsible, extremely disrespectful, and downright stupid. In fact, his statements was so stupid that I can bet my pants that Dato' Seri Anwar threw him a bag of cash to say what he said. The only defense he can possibly use can be found in the claim that whatever that was said was mentioned in the context of history. Well, even that is hardly any defense because clearly he got his historical facts wrong.

Even if he really was quoting history, what is he trying to say? Is it because the fact that your great-great-great-grandparents were immigrants makes you an immigrant too, thus rendering you less special than the oh-so-special Malays? Despite the fact that you arrived in Malaysia through the womb of your mother in a local hospital, say Hospital Assunta in Petaling Jaya, and your birth certificate says you are a Malaysian citizen. Despite the fact that during pre-Merdeka days many other non-Malays also fought for independence and contributed to the well-being of our country. Despite the fact that Chinese people make up to over 30% of the population but commands over 60% of the country's economic chart. Or maybe he was just trying to tell your dead great-great-great-grandparents to get out of Malaysia? Or maybe he was telling everyone including himself to get out of the country? Because according to historical and anthropological facts, our ancestors were all immigrants.

Is he deliberately trying to incite racial conflicts and consequently spark another May 13? His actions at a time like this, all the more with showcause letters thrown to The Sun, Sin Chew Daily and Suara Keadilan and arrests under ISA of Raja Petra, Teresa Kok and the Sin Chew Reporter Tan Hoong Cheng really does cast an eeriely familiar image to Operasi Lalang. After deeply insulting and pissing off over 8 million Chinese people, who most of which have stopped supporting Barisan Nasional and reverted to the other side (as the recent 2008 General Elections did prove), wouldn't this be the time to cool the waters and do everything possible to repair the damage done? Wouldn't arresting an extremely famous and influential blogger (who have loyal followers from all races, with a sizable chunk of Chinese supporters), a popular Chinese MP, and a Chinese reporter from a Chinese daily, would ultimately piss them (and not to mention countless other people from various races as well) to no end a million times more? It could only be either stupidity at its supreme best or a political ploy. I vote the latter.

So, could Ahmad's inflammatory statements, showcause letters and detentions under ISA be small embers that the government is fanning, with hopes that it will invariably fire up racial clashes? If you remember, recently there was a statement released by the head of police that they will take action against those that will threaten the stability of the country. Well, if that ever happens, Pak Lah could easily declare a state of emergency, deploy the troops and stop Sept 16/20th to ever happen, and in doing so seize complete control over the country. For one that will be diverting attention away from all the recent political fiasco and take the limelight away from Dato' Seri Anwar Ibrahim. Also, how else do you take control over millions of people who oppose you? You don't use mere words, you use guns. And naturally the political rhetorics, false promises and brainwashing would come later. History, tragically at times, does repeat itself. If the worse does happen this time, let it be without blood.

And what about the 40 MPs who got sent to Taiwan literally days before 16th September to study agriculture? Isn't it such a convinient time? Why now instead of last month or rather last year? Interestingly enough, the number of MPs who got sent there almost equals the number of MPs that Dato' Seri Anwar said will cross over to Pakatan Rakyat come 16th September. At the same time, 4 representatives from Pakatan Rakyat was also sent there to study agriculture. Oh I'm sorry, I meant to say "study", not study. The best part is both parties from the Barisan Nasional and Pakatan Rakyat are staying at the same hotel. The timing of it all, and the surface facts, doesn't it all smell a little too fishy? Even Homer Simpson can sniff it from a mile away.

In between all that, we hear news that Tan Sri Muhyiddin Yasin, Tengku Razaleigh, Tan Sri Sanusi Junid, and a few others had a private meeting with Tun Mahathir to persuade the former prime minister to return to UMNO. They are hoping that Tun Mahathir's voice would be heard, to revive UMNO, unite the Malays, and persuade Pak Lah to step down. There is also talks that Tun Mahathir will be supporting Tengku Razaleigh who is planning to contest the UMNO Presidency seat soon. There is also news that Dato' Mukhriz Mahathir will be contesting the seat for UMNO Youth Leader. Tan Sri Muhyiddin has already pissed off Pak Lah by saying that he should rethink the much discussed 2010 leadership change plans. Not to mention numerous other UMNO members from the grassroots level to way up in the Cabinet calling for Pak Lah's resignation. With so much internal conflicts within UMNO, it's all too obvious that things in UMNO are really shaking up. This might just be UMNO, and Barisan Nasional's, weakest and most unstable time ever in history.

Everything that have transpired since BERSIH rally to today and taking it all into consideration, I don't blame Dato' Seri Anwar for rushing to snatch the prime minister seat. This is the best time for him to do so. Not that I support his cause in any way, by the way. It is all too obvious that he is power crazy, that he is doing everything and anything it takes to become the next Prime Minister. If not, why the rush? Why not settle in, do some good, prove yourself, show concrete results, and then contest for the next General Elections? Political talk and rhetorics can only last for so long. He has a tendency to talk differently on different matters of different political ideologies with different races of people who have different political inclination. If you want to refute that claim, talk to those who has attended all of his campaign talks. Better yet, those who has seen him talk at 3-4 various locations in a single day. If you can't find one, go and get his talks on CD or DVD. There's more than enough proof there. That in itself screams of hypocrisy and manipulation.

Not to mention when he boldly claimed that over 40 MPs have signed papers and agreed to crossover. You don't need to be a genius to see the word "bribery" stamped all over it. Everyone knows all too well how corrupted this country is, from the private sector to the government. And we all know that the most corrupted of all is in the arena of politics. It would not make any sense for a politician to make such a drastic move without being given any substantial monetary gains. Think about it. Even someone as charming and manipulative as Dato' Seri Anwar cannot in any way persuade those MPs to cross over by just moving his lips. His overseas bank accounts has to also move. Now, in today's day and age, in a country called Malaysia that is rife with corruption, how else do you convince 40 politicians to betray their own party and join an opposition party without a single cent involved? Well, say, RM50 million each to jump ship? In the end of the day, everyone has a price. And the scariest thing about corruption is that it works so well.

That's kacang putih for Dato' Seri Anwar, since over RM3 billion just recently came in from the United States from several private parties to fund his political goals. Not to mention billions of dollars of his own money, most of which are placed in offshore accounts. That piece of 3 billion dollar news is of no surprise seeing how close he has always been to the United States. He gets headline news like no other Malaysian politician. He has been interviewed, given talks and speeches, countless more times than any other local politician. Even his Permatang Pauh victory was a headline feature on CNN, as well as few other major international medias. Better yet, you can even skip all that and look at his close ties to Paul Wolfowitz. His name is synonymous with IMF, Neoconservatism, George Bush, War on Iraq, and Israel. So, go figure.

Dato' Seri Anwar Ibrahim is most definitely not the "cleanest" man nor politician for that matter. Since his days as Minister of Finance, he has managed to cash in billions worth of projects for himself and his cronies. There are lots of facts to this claim, if only you'd look closer. For starters, take a closer look at Agro Bank. And do I even need to begin talking about the 1998 currency crisis and how he supported IMF and tried persuading Tun Mahathir to borrow money from them to solve the country's woes? You don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure that out.

There's a lot of boring economic facts in it which I couldn't be bothered to get into (just Google it you lazy mofo). Just look on the surface, even if you happen to be a bit daft, just look at our neighbouring countries who accepted IMF and look at those who did not and just fended off on their own in their own ways. Though of course to be objective you need a closer look at their economic strength and financial reserves. But trust me, you'll arrive at the same conclusion. That, yes, IMF would've been a catastrophic idea. And there you had Dato' Seri Anwar who happens to be the Finance Minister who happens to be close friends to the United States who happens to be the one running the show for IMF. Suspicious much?

There's a lot more that I can say about him and Parti Keadilan Rakyat. But it's already time for sahur and I should be getting to bed soon. So I'll save this political bashings for next time then. If you notice, I'm hardly biased and I don't believe in discrimination. I don't just bash one side, dua-dua pun aku hentam. What does Shakira's hips and truth have in common? Jeng jeng jeng. They both don't lie.

To be continued later at a not-so-ungodly time.

Disclaimer: I am a supporter of no other party other than my own. In my room, a disco ball, some Electrohouse, a pole and you. E-mail me, baby.

Of Late Morning Conversations on Love and Insanity

2008-09-13T01:20:00.000+08:00

We were talking about love and relationships in general. She was telling me of her dilemmas, and I was complaining of my current laments. In between all that, I wondered to myself, why is it that I always tend to gravitate towards eccentric and seemingly insane characters. People who clearly have monumental flaws, the kind that most would usually, understandably avoid. My realm of attraction towards oddities doesn't just end at people but extends to all things inanimate. Be it music, books, films. Anything at all.

So I asked her, "What's your take on it?". And she said,

"i guess i like grit. maybe it's because i'm an aggressive person... or that i'm afraid of gentility because it makes me nervous and vulnerable. people can say the right things and then not mean them... but when you're bad, who tries to be bad on purpose? that's when they're real. that's what you have to overcome about a person, their flaws. i guess i like knowing what i'm up against. i like challenges. because i'm used to seeing the good in people, liking them for it... if you can stand a person, be attracted to them when they're flawed then you have little to worry about. the good things about them are good already".

I've had some of the most compelling conversations with her. And this might just be one of those moments that I'll always, always remember. Or at the very least try the hardest to remember. What she said was spot on. Her explanation over that seemingly complex topic was profoundly simple. I liked hearing it, in part, because I too believe the same.

I have always believed that you can never truly and unconditionally love someone until they have hurt you. You will never know someone if you haven't witnessed them in their worst element. You will never be truly happy if you have never sunk to the lowest depths. Emotionally, physically, psychologically and spiritually.

Just as Nietzsche said, "There is some madness in love, but there is some reason in madness".

Burn the Blue Eyes

2008-09-11T03:12:00.002+08:00

How could such a simple song played by two girls with just a harp, a kazoo and a children's toy sound so effortlessly amazing. The words are barely comprehensible. The lyrics are absolutely bizarre. The music screams of melancholy. Their almost-falsetto, raspy voice weave such carefree yet superbly serene Daedalian sounds.

When you throw all of those eclectic mixture of seemingly unconventional nonsensical elements together...

How could it not leave you completely dumbstruck with unutterable emotions.

How could it not stir whirlpools of blood, rushing through your tired veins.

How could it not raise your hair like thorns on a rose.

How could it not silent your inner turmoils.

How could it not titillate your fragile spine.

How could it not move you to paradise,

even for a fleeting moment.

How could it not tie your heartstrings together in such convoluted beauty,

in the most captivating manner possible.

But...

Isn't it odd that someone could feel so much pain and anguish over something so profoundly beautiful. That he would listen to the very song that would literally choke him with invisible tears. His heart cries blood, imagining what might have been, what have transpired, and the frightening thought of an uncertain future.

With trembling fingers, he types these all too familiar words of misery. Trying so hard to let out those trapped emotions onto this superficial public space for the world to witness, with hopes that expressing in complete honest nakedness that these cries could somehow miraculously silent his dysphoria. He tries, and tries, and tries, to find solace in this song that inflames bittersweet memories of her. The lovely melody of the harp, those almost-falsetto raspy voice, plays on repeat for what seems like an eternity.

And eternity it is, because in life some wounds just refuse to heal. Our tangible skin would wither away to ashes, but the intangible pain remains. Completely defiant against time, it remains. As it is yesterday, as it is now, as it is tomorrow, ad infinitum, ad nauseam.

With trembling fingers, he types these ever so familiar words of misery. Because misery is a butterfly. He tries, so hard, to convince himself that within this wretched cocoon that something better might blossom in time to come. It's dreary outside, but come tomorrow the sun will slowly but surely chase away the darkness. Maybe it will be a pleasant morning, with a slight cool drizzle of sweet acid rain, and maybe after which a rainbow might appear and colour the sky pastel.

With trembling fingers, he types these foolish words, and tries to not black out again and in process burn the cigarette on his fingers, yet again. We do foolish things in the name of love. But we do even more stupendously foolish nonsense in the name of sorrow. Being stupid for the sake of being stupid is stupid enough. But being stupid because of someone else would render the word 'stupid' completely inane, because a word for such profound stupidity doesn't even exist in the dictionary.

With trembling fingers, he types, "I am such a fool".

Shoot Shoot Bang Bang

2008-09-08T21:50:00.004+08:00

Your silence has spoken volumes.

Your inaction has pushed me near the edge.

Your absence has left a crease on the pillow from the night before,

the night that you never came at all.

There is no need for you to pull the trigger. I know how it helps you that the cold steel is resting on my temple, instead of yours. You are merely shifting the blame, irregardless of what you have and have not done. There could be a thousand and one reasons; pride, fear, self-righteousness, ignorance, confusion. But, in the end of the day, none of it really matters.

There is no need for blood, sweat and tears to be spilled. I have already been hanging from this noose, far longer than you know. From far before you would even realise that maybe you do care, and maybe you should do something about it. From far before you would even flinch the slightest bit, to break this silence. To pull me away from this ledge.

You should've come over, because it's not too late.

(But then again, even if you do give a flying fuck, when will it be too late?)

Muted Memories

2008-09-01T02:39:00.005+08:00

There were too many ridiculous incidences, too many insane scenarios, too many people involved, and far too much conflicting emotions. It was a rather stupendously memorable night, for better and worse. I wish I could talk about last night. But it's almost impossible to write about something that I cannot entirely comprehend.

"As we float from the shore
Into the light
Into the unknown
Like thousands of lanterns
Glowing with grace
In glorious silence
Descending through space"

Two Worlds

2008-08-21T18:03:00.003+08:00

I'm Supposed to be Cutting Cardboards but I Can't Breathe

2008-08-20T00:15:00.004+08:00

I was just thinking. And I realised that I didn't do anything significant on 080808. I didn't even notice the day passing, much less remember anything worthy to take note of. It was supposed to be the day of all days, especially if I'm Chinese. Well, I'm sort of quarter Chinese, so I should be at least a quarter bit excited, no? But I completely forgot about it. I would've done wonders. Decades later I'd sit my grandsons down and tell them what a magnificent day 080808 was, and all the amazing things I did that day. But of course, I'll have to erase this shameful post before they learn how to read (not to mention find a girl, fall in love, marry, knock her up, etc, before I start putting names on my imaginary grandkids).

Well. For the fact that I'm writing this 12 days too late says it all. The truth is that I have much more important things to do. I am far too busy, tired, drained, devastated, in perpetual gloom, bored, and lazy, that I can't think of anything else to write about other than this completely useless post.

I want a tattoo.

Oh Crap, Oh Yeah Baby, Hot Damn!

2008-08-13T20:12:00.019+08:00

If only I didn't cut my hair and kept my overgrown curling locks, I would've been a few hundred bucks richer. The casting agency hasn't called me for the longest time, can you blame me?

If only I don't have classes on this Friday morning, and the pre-arranged afternoon drive down to Port Dickson, I would've been a few hundred bucks richer. The casting agency hasn't called me for the longest time, can you blame me?

If only I still have my overgrown curling locks, skip class on Friday and just drive down to Port Dickson later at night, I would've had gotten enough dough to get my (sort of dream) Tamron lens that I've been dying to get for the longest time. Or at the very least some extra much needed camera gadgets.

Tuhan tak sayang aku ke?

Sedih okay?

Sedih.

On a separate note, freelancing photo jobs have been falling on my lap for the past couple of weeks. Crazy, overloaded college assignments aside, August till mid September (and maybe God willing October and December as well) might just be the busiest times for me ever. And I can't even begin to talk about dozens of amazing upcoming events that I'm dying to go for. Butterfingers Kembali showcase is top in the list, naturally.

Tuhan sayang aku kot.

Happy okay?

Happy.

But then again, at least half of my upcoming assignments, events and jobs are clashing like mad. How to manage lah? I'm already more fickle than I should be. Even choosing one job (studies aside) will be a major, major undertaking. If I missed any of the upcoming events this month and the next, I will surely die, from self-strangulation. Plus, I'm still waiting for Envy Magazine to come back to me with confirmation of articles to be submitted for their upcoming issues. And there's way plenty more other nonsense that I can't recall from the top of my head now.

So, apakah conclusion nya?

Tuhan sayang aku ke tak ni?

Mungkin tak. Sebab aku manusia yang amat jahil. Tapi, aku rasa aku orang yang agak baik juga. Walaupun aku hampir tak pernah sembahyang 5 kali sehari, sembahyang Jumaat pun tak ingat bila kali terakhir pergi, puasa pon tunggang-langgang, dan lain-lain lagi perkara haram yang aku selalu sangat buat. Tapi macam mana pula dengan benda-benda baik yang mendatangkan banyak pahala yang aku dah banyak sangat buat?

Maybe God is telling me:

1. "You've been a bad, bad boy, so I'm gonna screw you up nicely"
2. "You've been a (relatively) good boy, so I'll give you some perks"
3. "Qadaq dan Qadar, paham-paham saja lah"

Bak kata pepatah P. Ramlee, "Cobaan".

Without You

2008-08-05T23:55:00.011+08:00

Your fingertips across my skin
The palm trees swaying in the wind
Images

You sang me Spanish lullabies
The sweetest sadness in your eyes
Clever trick

I never want to see you unhappy
I thought you'd want the same for me

We walked along a crowded street
You took my hand and danced with me
Images

And when you left you kissed my lips
You told me you'd never ever forget these images, no

I never want to see you unhappy
I thought you'd want the same for me

I cannot go to the ocean
I cannot drive the streets at night
I cannot wake up in the morning
Without you on my mind
So you're gone and I'm haunted
And I bet you are just fine
Did I make it that easy
To walk right in and out of my life?

Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
I should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do

What Do You Mean You're Getting Married?

2008-08-01T01:14:00.003+08:00

There are a number of latest trends that I can think of from the top of my head; indie music at clubs, Paddle Pop-ish sakit mata nu rave, Bahasa Malaysia, blogging, *cough* DSLRs *cough*, DIY clothing labels, anything Agyness wears, and last but not least, early marriages.

At first I thought I was just blowing up minuscule statistics into dinosaur proportions. But after years of hearing "Wei aku kahwin hujung tahun", "Did you know they're getting hitched already?", "I tunang lagi 2 bulan", "Oh fuck she's pregnant", and many many more, I've come to the premature conclusion that yes, early marriage is the in-thing now. Not because it's cool, but because it's the sensible thing to do. Well, maybe it is a bit cool to be able to make sweet love with each other without worrying about getting barbecued later in the afterlife. Or having JAIS knock on your door while you're wheel barrowing. Or having to tell your dad "Oh fuck she's pregnant".

I think it's sad that marriage has become more of a convenience. A necessity in this expensively cruel world. Think about it. A fresh graduate who comes out with a diploma might get a starting pay of anywhere between RM1200-RM1800. A degree holder, about RM2000-RM2500. With a starting pay like that in that region, it's barely enough to comfortably survive. That of course taking into consideration the ever rising cost of living in KL (in an extreme case, condominiums surrounding KLCC are now priced no less than RM2000 per square feet, whereas barely 3 years ago it was in the region on RM700-800 per square feet), terrible public transportation system, messed up automobile industry, ever fluctuating global prices of oil, poor governance by the ruling party, over saturated job markets, well, I'm sure we all know the list goes on for much, much further.

Think about rent or property purchase; landed or condo, far away in No Man's Land where it's dirt cheap or nearer to town where it's convenient but too expensive? Think about transportation; unreliable but cheap local cars or pricey but a tad more reliable imported cars, drive and burn overpriced fuel or commute like sardines in shitty public transportation? Think about tax, food, utility bills, credit cards, insurance, health care. Think about savings. Think about how little cash you have left after making all the necessary payments for the month. Think about how you'll spend every month to relax; movies, retail therapy, shows, trips, etc. Most of which will be spent by swiping your beloved plastic card. Think about all the bills you need to settle, and think about your credit card bill. And if you have more than one, say three or four or more, may God bless your soul, think about your credit card bills. Bills with a capital S.

Over 90% of the population live like that. Bak kata pepatah Encik Azmyl, "Hidup sampai seratus, makan gaji".

With all that in mind, wouldn't it be easier if you lived with someone else and split the bills? Wouldn't it be that much more feasible to go by relatively comfortably with a joint income between two people? Especially if either one comes from a well-to-do family, preferably a dad who's a Tan Sri and owns half of KL. It makes complete economic sense. I don't blame girls for putting security above anything else. Especially in today's crazy dog eat dog, capitalist, chauvinist, and ever changing complex world we live in. We all need some helping hand, no? But that's just on money, albeit very briefly summarized. There is a lot of other issues but I can't be bothered to type them all out. Maybe next time.

This whole getting hitched early thing feels almost business like. Like a formulated ritual with predictable constants. Almost every single one of the people I've personally known who have gotten married or is in the process of, all follow more or less the same equation. First girlfriend, first love, first long term relationship, been together for at least 3 years, families get involved, and within the first year of graduating from university and landing their first jobs, *poof*, kahwin.

I often get lambasted by friends because whenever we hear of a mutual friend getting married I'm always the one that goes, "ZOMGWTF". I don't mean to be a killjoy and I'm far, far from jealous, because that's just ridiculously stupid. But as dreamy and aloof as I am, I do try to be realistic. Especially on a matters that is far from triffle.

I find it odd that most of the time the excuse I hear about why people get married so early is that:

1. They have been together for far too long, so alang-alang kahwin je lah kan?
2. So that they won't commit sins (personally, I think that is a mofo of an excuse)
3. Because the guy is already working, and can afford to take care of the girl

I think it's a sad thing when two people get married just because it's convenient. If that's the case, I would've gotten married years ago. And probably a few million other 20 year-olds as well. I think it's sad when people get married just to avoid from committing sins. Padahal sembahyang 5 waktu pon tak lepas. I think it's sad when people get married just because the guy can support the wife. I'm no chauvinist and neither am I a feminist, but I think far gone are the times that women can goyang kaki while men go out to the battlefields day in day out. Hello, this is the 21st century. Conveniently lupa is it?

In the end of the day, what matters most is that you make choices not for the sake of making choices. People should not get married just because they want to get married. There are those out there that are in love with the concept of marriage and raising kids. A minority, I hope. There's a fine line between wanting something and wanting someone. You marry because you want to get married to THAT person, not because you want to be in a marriage.

If and when I do find my ever elusive better half, I would marry her because I'm completely, utterly, devotedly in love with her. And because I want to spend every minute of my life with her until we're both wobbly and wrinkly. Because having conversations with her, smelling her scent, listening to her voice, and having her around completes my life.

Whoever that person is, she would be the only reason I will ever marry.

Not because it's convenient. Not because I'm poor. Not because her father is a Tan Sri and owns half of KL. Not because to avoid from committing sins. Not because I'm bored and lonely. Not because everyone else is getting married. Not because I sort of accidentally dialed for a mail order bride. And definitely, most definitely, not because it's the "in-thing" now. Because I'm already uber cool.

p/s: if you, my maybe-imaginary soulmate happen to be reading this, please e-mail me okay?

Madness is Not a Bad Word

2008-07-29T01:34:00.004+08:00

The Dark Knight could possibly be the new Blade Runner. Reborn in a much more intricately weaved picture of the ever so bleak anti-hero plot. Complex, riveting and intelligently portrayed. This might just be Christopher Nolan's finest hour. I'm sure most would agree that Memento was probably his best work, but let's just agree to disagree just for the duration of this meandering post.

This film challenges many known conventions that Hollywood holds dear for decades. It questions the film industry's all-too-well known big blockbuster formulas. Hero has incredible (and sometimes superhuman) abilities, beats the bad guy to a pulp, saves the city (and sometimes the entire galaxy), saves the girl, kisses her under the oh-so-artificial purple sunset and lives happily ever after. It has been pretty damn nauseating watching different films with such similar plots. You only need to watch the first 20-30 minutes to be able to mentally carve out the entire plot of the movie, including the part where the hero and heroine do tongue Olympics like there's no tomorrow.

What I like most about the film is that it shows the entire spectrum of Batman's fictional story in it's truest form. It shows the reality of the film, the comic, the underlying narratives. There's no sunshine and rainbows, no dodging bullets, no impossibly drop dead gorgeous heroine, and no crazy escapes from certain death scenarios ala Ethan Hunt.

The Joker was obviously the focal point of the film, accidental or not. Although the movie is about Batman, Gotham's dark knight, The Joker somehow managed to effortlessly outshine Batman by a mile. No doubt I do personally find Batman's character endearing and rather interesting. Elements of duality and dichotomy in it's character is extremely strong. Complete polar opposites when brought together creates a very strong attracting force, and that's exactly why Batman, and other superhero characters, have managed to attract legions of frenzied fans like gravity. Apart from the fancy gadgets and tight leather suits, of course.

But The Joker was really something else. In Heath Ledger's own words, he said that The Joker was a "psychopathic, mass murdering, schizophrenic with zero empathy". Well, we all have come across such characters in other films before. But what Heath brought to the film was truly unique. Just like how Johnny Depp brought life to Captain Jack Sparrow, so did Heath in playing the role of The Joker.

What I find interesting is the genius behind the madman's character. In the film, he was always a few steps ahead of the entire mafia, the police force, and even the almost infallible Batman. He masterminded the entire plot to shake the very foundation of Gotham's soul, and succeeded. He was completely out of his mind, but the measure of his intelligence, fearlessness and flawless execution was beyond doubt. It's usually the first assumption that crazy people are, well, just crazy. But insanity is far from being one-dimensional. The multitudes of creative possibilities that arises from the condition, or disease if you may, are unquestionable.

The eccentrics, the lunatics, the schizos, the manic depressed, the drug addicts, are a broken lot. But in between those cracks lies a silver lining that most are completely oblivious and unaware of. Even in the most wretched of broken things. Madness is the reverse of reason, and what is opposite of what we perceive as normal, scares us. It is only human to fear what we don't understand. But despite all that, and despite one of my most favourite dead person Michel Foucault's very convincing criticisms on the romanticism of madness, I believe there is some concrete truth behind the silver lining of insanity and chaos. History never lies, and it has shown that our world have been shaped by men who did extraordinary things, who thought outside of the box, who took the road less taken, who said and did things that were widely believed to be unconventional (at their own respective times in history).

But of course, I'm talking in the most general sense of the word. The "insanity" that I speak of here, does not mean that such a person is a "psychopathic, mass murdering, schizophrenic with zero empathy". What I mean is that a person who is deemed to be "insane" is simply someone who embodies one or more characteristics that is against societal conventions. It is a strong word, no doubt. But it's merely a word nonetheless. A composition of letters. An idea.

I have always strongly believed in the idea of duality. Without either half, life and existence as we know it will cease to prevail. Nothing will make sense without the intertwining of opposites. Everything is relative. What little I understand from Einstein's General Theory of Relativity is that everything needs something to be compared to in order for it to be measured, calculated, weighed, and understood. Everything needs an opposite for it to work. An atom without an electron will not work. A married couple of two chatterboxes will not work. The cold hard steel pistons in your car will not work without slick, slippery grease. That Hugo Boss jacket won't come crawling to you without pushing for overtime at work.

"For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction", wrote you-know-who centuries ago. I know there's a paradox behind that law, but scrap that and just think about it on the surface. It explains this whole duality nonsense in the simplest way possible. Newton's Third Law of Motion doesn't need to only apply on motion between objects (again, scrap the maths), but on the motion of life. The formula speaks of the movement between order and chaos, good and evil, life and death. The application of the law is far reaching, extending beyond the realm of science and into places that even mathematical equations can't fully explain in its entirety. I have an easy example. Think of karma; if you do wrong to someone, you will get it back. Bitch slapped right across your face, in this life or the next.

Without one, what will be the other? And more importantly, what will "be"? Will we ever know what is light if there is no darkness? Will we ever appreciate life if there is no death? Will we ever truly feel love if there is no suffering? Will we treasure something truly beautiful if nothing before it is ugly? Will we find our soulmate if we have never met all the wrong ones? Will we ever know what is real if we have never dreamt? Will we ever have faith if we have never lost it?

And of everything We have created pairs, that you may remember (the Grace of Allah).

- Surah Adh-Dhariyat, verse 49

“If my devils were to leave me, I am afraid my angels will take flight as well”
– Rainer Maria Rilke

When Something Appears, Another One Will Tragically Disappear

2008-07-26T02:30:00.007+08:00

My dad woke me up too early and handed me a new Guess watch this morning. Barely awake and yawning to no end, I strapped it on and fell asleep again.

Later that afternoon, I went around Bangsar to run some errands, do some shopping, and eat some food. Round and round I went, gleefully doing imaginary skips in my head, strutting down the mall in front of glossy windows with that ever seductive word SALE spanked everywhere, with plastic bags of new clothes (gasp!) hanging down my girlishly skinny wrists.

We went for one last round of window shopping, since the previous trips left me almost broke. Almost, but enough for next week I'm sure. Shoes shoes shoes here I come! Anyway. I drove back home, went upstairs and said hi to my parents who coolly said to me, "This is not our house anymore. We're moving to a new one in a few months time". I see.

So, I proceeded to my room, unloaded the bags, and realised that something's missing. I ran back to the car and threw everything out, short of stripping the entire car bare. Seats, steering wheel, carpets, and yes, even the cup holders. After a good sweaty 20 minutes of pillaging the car, I gave up. That was it. I lost it. My fucking favourite watch. The old one that I swapped to give way for the new one my dad gave me. I must have left it at any one of the three shops, at least.

Morning, I get a new watch. Afternoon, I lose my old watch. Both are of the same brand and both in the same colour. What are the odds?

7.35pm

2008-07-24T00:03:00.000+08:00

To Keep A Long Story Short

2008-07-22T12:05:00.008+08:00

Of polka dotted horses jumping over rainbow poles, great food and the beautiful Nurul.

(3Q Classic hosts the South East Asian League World Cup event, and its Equestrian Promotion’s Triple Crown of Show Jumping and Dressage)

I bumped into a friend at 3Q's equestrian event. I just found out then that she was riding for Malaysia. Surprise, surprise. The dressage was boring, I didn't really understand that part of the event much. The riders and their horses were just circling around the arena. Nothing spectacular really. The show jumping was a lot of fun. They had 3 stages or levels or whatever else you call it, and raised the bar each time. I think it went up to over 1.5m. When you're up on a horse, believe me that's pretty damn high. Two riders got thrown off their horses, where one of them had to be sent to the hospital for a broken thigh. Night time rolled in and the "party" started. They had fantastic BBQ food, karaoke and an open dance floor. Nurul (Ajai's ex, the songbird) was there. She is absolutely drop dead beautiful in real life. Among all the local celebrities I've met she might just be the nicest, warmest, most down to earth personality yet. She did a few impromptu numbers during the karaoke and man can she sing.

Of uber expensive t-shirts, man in mini skirt and hot MILFs.

(Zang Toi New York Fall & Resort Collections 2008 at Hotel Istana)

Zang Toi's charity fashion show was fun. It was held in the Grand Mahkota Ballroom at Hotel Istana. We were completely out of place, for sure. The invites wrote "Formal", but there I was in a tucked out shirt, corduroy pants and white sneakers. I saw a few notable models and some goodlooking MILFs. Hoo yeah. We were walking around, looking through Zang Toi's new line, and there he was, the man himself, coming out of the press conference wearing a black baby tee and a black leather mini skirt. How often do you see a sane, 5' 5" Chinese man, wearing a leather mini skirt in public and get away with it? Zainal Abidin was the guest performer that night, and sang a few numbers. One of them was his most famous song, Hijau. He was surprisingly pretty good. Later on after the show we met Zainal Abidin and Zang Toi to snap some photos.

Of an impromptu rendezvous, white washed cafe and shitty ventilation.

(Oh My God That's What I Call Music #2 at Cloth & Clef featuring Laila's Lounge, Telebury, the Stoned Revivals and Rashdan Harith)

Cloth & Clef was just around the corner so we decided to stop by and check out that night's event. The place looks like a Palate Pallete wannabe. The line up was good, but the Stoned Revivals played a tad too long I think. We were waiting for Telebury, but decided to bail out early since it was getting so hot and stuffy because the place was cramped up with so many people and the ventilation was utter shit. I'll think twice if ever there's another event there again.

Of pretentious wannabes, great music and wasted nights.

(Twilight Action Girl at The Loft, Zouk)

I think it's been at least a few years since I've been to TAG. I was in the neighbourhood, since the hotel is only walking distance from Zouk, so I thought what the hell. Bumped into a friend there, as always. The music was good. Though I was entertained more by the crowd than TAG itself. I don't know if they're pretentious, trying too hard or both. Thank god it was only a minority, but there were still some sore sights. I saw at least 7-8 people with almost identical black & white horizontal stripped tops in a crowd of about 30 plus people. See, that is what happens when people try too hard to look unique and artsy and all of them congregate at the same spot on the same night every week. Idiots. That night I got completely sloshed. And that was probably only the third time in my life I've ever gotten completely smashed. Funny thing was that I didn't get any hangovers the day after. Hmm.

Of over-budgeted events, Taiwanese rappers and Flo Rida.

(Hennesy Artistry presenting Flo Rida, DJ Latin Prince, Machi and Pop Shuvit with visuals by VJ Callen)

Last weekend's Hennesy Artistry was crazy awesome. The set up was completely mind blowing. I felt as though I was at an international event somewhere overseas. They must have spent at least millions (I heard from the grapevines it was a little over RM1.5 million) on the whole event; artists, visuals, stage, free flow drinks, etc. I'm not a big fan of any of the performers that night but I thought since the invites were free, why not? Among the line up that night, I enjoyed Machi the most. No doubt they were a bit pop-ish, but entertaining nonetheless. DJ LP was crap. Flo Rida was great. We managed to climb up the tiny podium right smack in the middle, barely a few feet away from the stage. What a view that was. If only I had that same spot at Sunburst when Incubus performed. Now that would've been insane.

Of late mornings.

My holidays are coming to an end. Thank god for that. Long holidays drive me crazy. I don't really feel like writing (explains why I sound so bleedingly boring). But I just had to, for remembrance sake. There's a lot of other things that happened in between, but none that I can recall now from the top of my head. It's probably written in pieces of paper or my notebook, somewhere in my room.

Oh well.

Anwar vs Shabery Debate

2008-07-16T00:06:00.018+08:00

I have to take my hat off to Dato' Seri Anwar Ibrahim.

His showmanship on tonight's Agenda Daily "Hari Ini Bentuk Kerajaan Esok Turun Harga Minyak" Debate at Balai Budaya Tun Syed Nasir, Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka was truly a work of art. He outperformed Dato' Shabery Cheek by a mile. We all know of his world-class oratory skills, and they were on full force tonight.

But that is all just surface, of course. On closer analysis, you will find that Dato' Seri Anwar used a lot of useless arguments. He has a knack of using powerful rhetorics and sensitive sentiments. Words such as "fitnah", "membantu orang miskin", "membantu nelayan", "ekonomi merosot", "rakyat merana", and many many more, were thrown in every rebuttal with reckless abandon. But of course, it wasn't just reckless, it was all part of his grand political plans. He used simple statements sprinkled with sensitive sentiments and repeated it many times to drive home his rhetorics. Anyone with half a brain who listened would've believed him to the death.

PKR's biggest weakness has always been the failure to get Malay votes. It doesn't help that Dato' Seri Anwar is close friends with Paul Wolfowitz, the former Secretary of Defense (read: Zionist, chief architect behind the War on Iraq/War on Islam) and former President of the World Bank (read: IMF). That definitely doesn't pan well with Malay Muslims. Middle class non-Bumiputeras are their largest and strongest supporters, rallying behind PKR's call for a non-sectarian, Malaysian Malaysia. Post-Mahathir times saw the masses supporting Pak Lah to the end, with almost a clean sweep during the 11th Malaysian General Election in 2004. The Malays were generally contented with Pak Lah and the ruling government at that time. PKR did not manage to sway the Malay votes in their favour. Fast forward to today, a few years of mismanagement and poor implementation of promised policies and changes by Pak Lah saw an unprecedented swing of votes. The urban middle class Malays have uttered their disappointments with the current government by voting against it. PKR, PAS and DAP walked away with a surprisingly large chunk of votes.

And then came the oil price increase. Barely months after the ruling coalition, Barisan Nasional, suffered huge losses in the recent elections. Again, the rakyat as a whole are grumbling, complaining, criticising, cussing at the 40% increase in petrol prices. Such an unpopular policy is bound to create noise and anger among the rakyat, be it Bumiputera or non-Bumiputera alike. Again, a quiet sway of votes are cast against the government, against Barisan Nasional. And then came the sodomy allegations against Dato' Seri Anwar Ibrahim. That, obviously, worked in his favour. Again, reminiscence of 1999, whispers of government conspiracy theories and invinsible pats on his back accompanied by sighs of "kesiaaaan dia kena aniaya, kena fitnah, kena seksa".

I believe that those events leading up to the debate has worked in his favour. The elections, petrol price increase, the sodomy case, to name a few, have all elevated his position that much more. And tonight's debate on national TV was exactly the kind of stage he needed. To throw around rhetorics, play with sensitive sentiments and tug at the hearts of the rakyat, particularly the middle and lower income grouped Malays. He understands the Malay psyche well enough to know how to toy around and manipulate it to serve his own political goals. You can see that the way he moves on the stage overwhelms the words that comes out of his mouth. His showmanship overshadows the measly facts he occasionally throws around.

If you ever studied the human body language, you would have noticed how effectively he uses that skill. Every great orator knows how to play the crowd. How to manipulate the viewers into believing in something, even though it is not based on concrete facts. The facial expression, hand expressions, intonation of voice, all play a crucial role in influencing the audience.

And if you noticed, when the both shook hands Dato' Seri Anwar's hand was placed above Dato' Shabery Cheek's, a stance of dominance. The person who wants to gain that extra psychological advantage, to exert his power, will always place his hands above the recipient's. Next time you see Pak Lah on TV, notice how his hand is always on the lower end, marking the sign of a weaker character. We all know how nice and soft he is, and that is one physical proof of his malleable characteristic.

I personally think the debate was a bad idea. In the name of democracy, freedom of speech and transparency, it was a good and important step. No doubt about it. But if you were to take a step back and analyze the current and recent political climate objectively, you'd know it wasn't a wise move by the ruling government to go ahead with the debate. Tonight was exactly the kind of stage that Dato' Seri Anwar wanted, and needed. He didn't need to take it to the streets. He didn't need yet another sodomy case. He didn't need his blog, and those thousands of other PKR supporter (or anti-BN, anti-UMNO, anti-Pak Lah) blogs. All he needed was a slot on national TV, in one of the most anticipated programs in media history, to take a stand and deliver yet another one of his infamous political speeches.

No doubt the debate was about the oil price, but he meandered so much with political talk I swear that the moderator was paid money to keep mum when he deviated from the topic. More than once, to say the least. Dato' Shabery Cheek did very well to hold his own. His closing statements, in particular, was very strong and hit home a clear, firm message to the masses. Though I do think that although it was all backed up by facts he shouldn't have personally attacked Dato' Seri Anwar too much, that was a mistake. But overall, his rebuttals were based on cold hard facts and his statements were crystal clear, free from emotional and political sentiments.

At the end of the debate, we were trapped in the building for awhile. The reporters went berserk. They were fighting and arguing against each other, pushing and shoving the crowd, throwing punches and kicks at the security guards, yelling at the cops. It was a mad house. Right outside of Dewan Bahasa the streets spilled with PKR's supporters, closely watched by police in full riot gear. I was kind of hoping for a riot to break out, just for amusement sake. But of course at the same time I hope it wouldn't, that would just be crazy.

It was a rather enjoyable night. Not as entertaining as the kedai kopi scenarios at the Parliament, but enjoyable nonetheless.

So Where was I?

2008-07-13T23:57:00.008+08:00

I've been staring at this space for awhile now, long enough that I will not divulge such useless information that'll potentially embarrass myself.

The past couple of weeks or so have been comfortably busy for me. Not too little, not too much. I have so much to write I'm sure I'd forget at least half of it after typing out the first few sentences. It brings me great shame to say that it has happened before. No kidding.

I bought an overpriced notebook to jot down details that I might forget. Daily going ons, random phrases, one liners, conversations, names and numbers, quotes from books, and everything else. But what's the use of that when I constantly forget that I have a notebook to begin with? Well, at least I have something pretty and 'intellectual' looking lying around in my room to make me feel 'smart' and sort of 'responsible', no?

Today is my Irritable Day. Almost every other thing has irritated me on at least one occasion today. Those cinema copy DVDs my dad bought (few months earlier he bought a Blu-Ray player, go figure), shitty cigarettes, cold lasagna, driving, being forced to watch Hellboy 2 for the second time, my camera, the internet, my hair, the weather, well, should I go on?

I'm already starting to scratch that constellation of semi-invinsible micropimples on my forehead. If you knew me at all, you'd know that's a bad sign. And if I were to be holding up that sign, it'll say Back the Fuck Off, Fuckwad. And that's me being polite. Kind of.

I think I should stop here.

I'll be Bach soon.

Wallflower

2008-07-07T19:00:00.006+08:00

Ember

2008-07-05T03:46:00.012+08:00

Urbanscapes: Addendum

2008-07-03T16:38:00.007+08:00

I had a fucking blast at Urbanscapes!

I was there since morning helping out my friends set up Young Posh & Broke's booth at Threadzoo. None of us had ever done this before, so everything was pretty damn haphazard. We brought along a printer and laptop to print the remainder of our In Case of Emergency freebies. But it ran out of paper halfway. Doink. We arranged and rearranged the tables, clothes hanger, shoe rack, and everything once every 20-30 minutes from noon till mid-day. Again, doink.

Although the event officially started at noon, people started to slowly come in around 11ish. We were terrible salespeople to say the least. Half of the time the girls were preparing unfinished In Case of Emergency freebies. The guys were just hanging out at the back, complaining of the heat, the expensive beer, and bathing our faces with ice cubes. Some of us would disappear every now and then, to get more drinks, check out other booths, snap pictures and god knows what else.

Despite all that, Young Posh & Broke was a real crowd puller. It was raining strangers on our booth from mid-day all the way into the afternoon. Artsy fartsy wannabes, punk rock kids, tudung-clad girls, aunties and uncles, and some local band members and celebrities came to check out and buy our stuff. Our booth was the loudest, thanks to Molly. It wouldn't have been the same without her really. Young Posh & Broke was the only booth that gave away freebies; old-school candies, bubbles, lighters and condoms. Random feedback later said people found them useful. Ehem. I bet. We were pleasantly surprised that the In Case of Emergency freebie tags were a hit!

All in all, we did pretty damn well. Considering the fact that Molly and Farah came up with the idea barely a couple of weeks before Urbanscapes and thought "Eh jom jual", and that half of our cap's printing came out a disaster hence forcing them to improvise and fix all of them by hand through sleepless nights, it all worked out in the end. Young Posh & Broke started out as a joke on Facebook. Molly created a group on Facebook and invited friends to join, just for the hell of it. And now, suddenly, it's a clothing label.

There are plans set in motion. With potential projects in the future, in KL and probably some place else as well, and buckets full of new ideas. There are offers to supply more trucker caps and orders all the way from Sydney have been placed. There'll also be a men's clothing line, mainly t-shirts. We have our very own domain, and hopefully will be up and running soon. It's amazing how many people are helping out Young Posh & Broke. Thanks a bunch to Brick, Opy, Zulie, Kim, Amer, Alia B, Deanna Ibrahim, Wei Chien, and others (you know who you are). Envy Magazine has also been one of our earliest silent supporters. Warms our hearts to no end, really.

We closed Young Posh & Broke's booth late in the afternoon, since almost all our stuff were sold (particularly the trucker caps) and decided to call it a day. I went on later to join some friends to enjoy the rest of the day. I didn't manage to catch the acts I wanted to see, particularly Paolo Delfino, Otam and Kokaina (the Acoustic Livehouse was crazy packed). I missed out on the screenings, I was dying to see Flower in My Pocket and Ciplak. I walked around to check out the photography and art exhibitions; They Art Studio, Creative United Movement, Lost Generation Art Space, Wondermilk, 24-Hour KL, etc.

They were also other things I missed out on. KL Poetry Slam (by Dram Projects & WordForward), Rather Peculiar Theatre, Air Con (by Shanon Shah, presented by Instant Café Theatre’s FIRSTWoRKS). Though I did manage to watch a teeny weeny bit of a play, but I'm not sure which one. I remember a large man prancing around in a baju kurung. There were also shorts, experimental and music videos curated by KLue, Cinejam and Hello Motion. I got to watch a bit of Pure Vibracion and Bittersweet. I passed by a crowd going nuts singing along and jumping and moshing around to Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit. I'm not sure who was spinning at that time. Lap Sap or maybe Twilight Action Girl?

The Threadzoo was pure madness. Some friends of mine set up shop there too, Ladyesah, Not Frumpy and Button My Buttons There was a non-stop flow of sweaty wide-eyed people in that scorching hot tent. It was nice to see a lot of enthusiastic fashionistas, girl and guys and all those in between, shopping like nobody's business, indirectly helping and supporting the burgeoning local indie fashion scene. The Marketplace also included stalls by Tongue In Chic, Bijou Bazaar, The Threads Zoo, Kraftgrafik x Lapsap REMIX Junkyard, British Council, Angkatan Baju Malaya and more. There was also a last minute mini photography exhibition done by Futuna and helped out by her boyfriend, Xumb. Her prints are fucking amazing, I kid you not.

There were some fair share of unavoidable dramas that day. Most of which I'm not even going to bother to write about. It was yet another day full of encounters with my past. I still find it amusingly odd that all of my exes were there. I spent half of the day with one ex, the other half with another one. Had a brief drama session with one. And I think I saw another one of my ex somewhere in the crowd. Occasions like these have been happening once too often. How strange. We stayed back for the last act of the day, Bass Agents. I had so much fun my cap, t-shirt, pants, underwear, socks, shoes and everything were drenched in sweat!

But of course, I can't close this entry without talking about the best part of the day. I was with Zara and my bestfriend, lying on the grass watching Bittersweet. There was this adorable little kid, with chubby cheeks and big round eyes, loitering about near us. He was running in circles headbanging to the beat of the music. Stumbled and rolled around the grass, then sat up, still headbanging. He crawled around and picked up an empty beer can. I smacked it out of his hands, and he just laughed. He crawled around again, and picked up a cigarette bud. By that time his mother (or so I think), came and picked him off. He was so adorable, doing the most unchildlike nonsense. Which makes me wonder, are those signs of an excitingly bleak future for this cute innocent kid? Full of sex, drugs and rock and roll. As of now, he is officially the coolest kid ever.

Urbanscapes '08

2008-07-01T01:25:00.006+08:00

Recycling is the New Black

2008-06-27T03:07:00.002+08:00

I was spring cleaning my room last week. Underneath piles of rubbish and beneath my dusty bed I found stacks of papers from past college notes to poetry print outs, old sketchbooks, post-its, forgotten books, scratched CDs and 90s cassettes, incense burners, faded receipts and movie stubs, snacks, worn out clothes, pieces of architecture models, empty paper bags and various paintings. And it suddenly struck me. I remember now.

Few years ago, as I was cleaning up my room, I threw away my Monet painting.

What a fucking idiot.

Of Irony

2008-06-24T20:39:00.011+08:00

Isn't it ironic that those things that gives you so much pleasure and joy; pancakes and ice-cream and candy and unprotected sex and nicotine and alcohol and marijuana and ecstasy and cocaine and heroin, would inevitably kill you in the end.

Isn't it ironic how religion professes peace, love and tolerance, but yet have been the symbolic axiom and the backseat driver behind many of history's longest, bloodiest and most violent wars.

Isn't ironic that there are some part-time activists and bedroom tree-huggers who rant and write about current environmental issues plaguing the planet, that buy only unprocessed food and refrain from using plastic bags and polystyrene boxes, that participate in online petitions and street demonstrations, but yet consume their fair share of nicotine fixes, frequent clubs and guzzle down alcohol, and travel in automobiles churning carbon monoxide into the atmosphere.

Isn't ironic how there are some bands that write fiery far-left politically charged lyrics, cite Che Guevara and Bob Marley as their primary influences, throw profanities against the capitalist system and advocate for social and economic reform, but yet sell t-shirts that were made from China in sweatshop factories, sell albums that contribute to the very economic system they oppose of, and quietly fall into like minded and similar voices that tirelessly attempt to stand out and appear unique.

Isn't it ironic that the first human beings in history begun life, prospered and lived in Africa some 150,000 years ago, but yet today that very "Mother of All People" continent consists of some of the most technologically backward countries in the world, witnesses dozens of violent civil wars under the rule of tyrants and dictators, and houses some of the poorest, sickest, and most helpless people on Earth.

Isn't it ironic that oil, with its massive contribution to society in the form of fuel for automobiles and boats and aircrafts, daily consumer products, fuel for processing metal that builds today's magnificent skyscrapers, trade and export deals that churns billions of dollars in profit for oil producing countries, financially benefits hundreds of oil and gas companies that gives jobs and livelihoods to thousands of employees, but yet is one of the main contributors to today's alarming exponential rise in environmental pollution of catastrophic proportions, seen as one of the primary catalysts for many cold wars (amongst Arab states) and invasions (Iraq and Kuwait, US and Iraq, etc), that have gave birth to countless of conspiracy theories (9/11 claimed to have been planned and carried out by the CIA and the US government as an excuse to invade Iraq for oil), and have caused the deaths of thousands upon thousands of innocent men, women, children, and helpless elderly people.

Isn't it ironic how Socialist and Communist political and economic systems of the past collapsed despite the fact that they were theoretically sound, honourable, altruistic, ideal and fair, but yet the very system that survives today, Capitalism, is the only one that is in tandem with human nature, but yet we have seen more wealthy people get richer and the under privileged become ever so poorer, whereby the number of people affected poverty, famine and slavery have increased more than ever before in history.

Isn't it ironic that parents tell their children to go to school, get good grades, become an engineer or a doctor or a lawyer, find a good wife and make cute chubby babies, to follow rules and bow to societal expectations, but yet it is evident that the movers and shakers of history that have influenced and shaped our world for the better have all been mavericks that have gone against the grain of order.

Isn't it sad that for all these sad, catastrophic oxymorons of today's time, all I could do right now is to write about it here and have a sip of grape juice with a sardine sandwich while listening to Ratatat.

Paradiso, Literary

2008-06-21T13:56:00.001+08:00

In my world, this is heaven.

Gemini Baby

2008-06-19T02:33:00.004+08:00

18th June, 9.09am:

I slept the shallowest of sleeps. I retired to bed much too late and rose much too early. I had a strange, strange dream. My cats, an ex-girlfriend and I was in it. I dreamed that Dylan, Sid and Jonsi died. She knelt on their graveyard, her face dripping with sorrow, and sat there silently. She turned, suddenly, and looked at me long and hard. I couldn't tell what she was trying to tell me with that cold, solemn stare. I had already died by then. Time was of no essence. Every scene was juxtaposed without any beginning nor ending. The mise en scene was confusing. But I remember the bits and pieces. And I remember that it was strange.

19th June, 12:45am:

As of 4.30pm today, decades ago, I came into the world in complete silence with one eye shut and feet as long as my thighs. I did not yelp a single cry. For a brief moment, my parents went berserk thinking I was a half blind, mute, semi-disfigured baby with alien legs. Thankfully, that was just a temporary joke God played on them. For whatever reason, remains a cosmic mystery. Probably for all eternity.

Fast forward to today, I am a healthy, cynical dreamer with no definite plans for world domination. Yet. There is just too much to type out the story of my life. Too much have gone by, and there is too little time and much too large of an ego (to not come off as being a tad too narcissistic) to realistically write about one's autobiography in a single page.

"My body is my temple", they say. Though I don't know if that's the case for me. I wish it was otherwise, but that's just useless wishful thinking. Over the years, my mind, body and soul have been riddled with bullets of shitty diet, haphazard hangat-hangat taik ayam workouts, infinite amounts of sins, cigarettes, and general substance abuse. As a result? I have a memory of a goldfish, fitness of a 12 year-old, guilts of a Protestant gay priest, and a perfect pair of charcoal lungs.

My only consolation lies in my firm belief that mistakes are what we're made of. I'd rather go through a life of rollercoaster than to cruise through life mechanically and monotonously with hardly any memorable bittersweet moments of stupidity and disaster. I've had a difficult, yet colourful life. And I'm thankful for that.

I'm thankful for all the memories, good and bad. For the people, friends and foes and lovers and family, that have came and gone and stubbornly stayed. For all the wrong things that I have done to others, and others unto me. For all my mistakes, stupidity and immaturity in the past. For every single one of my failures. For every single gray day and hopeless moments of utter defeat. For all the memories, and that I still have a decently semi-working one to remember them all.

I'm thankful that I'm still breathing today. 'Cause y'know, I kinda like living. More so now than ever before. And I think there's still a lot of good I can do for myself and others; friends and family and strangers. I think so. Lets just hope that's not yet another wishful thinking.

"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than to be absolutely boring" - Marilyn Monroe.

19th June, 2:20am:

I watched Nosferatu halfway. It's an insult to the film to doze in and out of sleep, so I decided to lay it off till tomorrow. I hate sleeping.

'Cause I try and I try and I try

2008-06-18T19:07:00.010+08:00

Listening to: DJ Shadow - Midnight in a Perfect World

We went for a few rounds of pick up games the other night. Got handed some nice thrashing by the local Chinese boys. I'm standing firm on my excuse that I haven't played basketball for the longest time, hence, the thrashing. We were hanging by the sidelines having a smoke when Jambu Boy asked me,

Jambu Boy: Dude, kenapa six packs kau senget sebelah?
Me: Sebab aku cacat.
Setan-tapi-kerja-TV9-bahagian-Agama Boy: Direct jawab. (sambil tersengih sinis)

I've been working out (almost) everyday to achieve a body sculpted like the guys on Men's Health. It's a long shot, I know. But worth trying nonetheless. Miracles do happen, y'know. Exercising does make me feel good. Though that's not nearly the point. Even though my stick thin frame might never look good on a men's underwear catalogue, for me, asal syok sendiri sudah. Personal satisfaction, baby.

A Couch Potato of Epic Proportions

2008-06-17T00:25:00.007+08:00

The sleeve says:

"Rainer Werner Fassbinder's controversial, fifteen-hour-plus Berlin Alexanderplatz, based on Alfred Döblin's great modernist novel, was the crowning achievement of a prolific director who, at age thirty-four, had already made forty films. Fassbinder’s immersive epic, restored in 2006 and now available on DVD in this country for the first time, follows the hulking, childlike ex-convict Franz Biberkopf (Günter Lamprecht) as he attempts to "become an honest soul" amid the corrosive urban landscape of Weimar-era Germany. With equal parts cynicism and humanity, Fassbinder details a mammoth portrait of a common man struggling to survive in a viciously uncommon time."

The story:

"Based on Alfred Döblin's influential and prescient epic novel about the waning days of the Weimar Republic, Berlin Alexanderplatz traces the fall of Franz Biberkopf, an urban Everyman, as he attempts to make his way through a society compromised by unemployment, violence, anomie, and promises of social order proclaimed by conflicting political parties. Fassbinder not only adapted Döblin's complex narrative for the screen but also composed an original two-hour epilogue in which Biberkopf travels through a turbulent dreamscape emerging from his and Germany's experiences." - MoMa.org

I've always had a thing for European films, both classics and contemporary. Strange thing is I've never really fancied epic films much. I'm patient and I can wait, but I prefer the fast forward button more. Which begs the question, why this 15-hour film? The truth is, I have absolutely no idea. I just want to. I just feel like it. One thing's for sure, I'll need to hide the remote. Far, far away from arms reach.

I foresee saying to myself, sometime in the not so distant future perhaps, "Aha. There goes 15 hours of my life".

Serenity Prayer for the Pseudo Masses

2008-06-13T02:50:00.004+08:00

There is probably nothing in the world that I loathe more than stupidity and ignorance. Handling each at a time is difficult enough. But what makes it even more stupendously difficult is that both comes in a package. You can't be stupid but not ignorant and you can't possibly be ignorant and not stupid. Can you dig it? Of course you can. You're not stupid. Or are you?

I think the problem stems from a number of disturbing, unresolved swept-under-the-carpet issues in our society. By this I don't mean the whole rainbow spectrum of our glorious multi-cultural society, I mean us. Orang Melayu. According to my birth certificate, I am a Malay. But technically, I'm not a Malay by blood. I am Indian, Chinese, Indonesian, Arab, Persian, and a whole lot more that I'd need to wake my parents up to tell me because I can't remember the rest. My memory eats itself up almost instantaneously. Anyway, moving along before I forget what to write next.

Well, we have this idiotic rule that in this country it is impossible to be Malay and not Muslim, and be a Muslim and not be a Malay. In other words, lets say the 6' 2" redhead George Swanson from Ireland converts to Islam, Encik George bin Abdullah automatically becomes a Malay. White ass, freckles and all, till death do us part, Malay. No other country in the world has a rule like that stamped for all eternity in their Federal Constitution. The thing is, what I find funny is that there is no such thing as a Malay race to begin with. Don't diss me for such a foul, blasphemous statement. Blame the anthropologists. They said so.

According to those "experts", our ancestors migration can be traced from Southern China during the Ming Dynasty roughly 6,000 years ago. You can find traces of migration from Vietnam and Cambodia to present day Kelantan. On top of that there is also migration from Southern Thailand into that state. The Minangkabaus, as we all know, are descendants of Alexander the Great and a West Indian princess. If you think I'm joking go read up your Sejarah Malaysia textbook. And if I'm right, go slap yourself and say sorry to your parents for skipping all those Sejarah classes during school.

And of course we all know that Johorians' ancestors were originally Bugis. The Bugis predominantly live on Sulawesi, but interestingly enough, they're not even Indonesians to begin with. Neither do they fall into the same group as the migrating Southern Chinese of 6,000 years ago nor the Australo Melanesian group from Africa. The Bugis are a cross-breed between the Mongolian Chinese and the wandering Arab Pirates (to all those loyal members of the anti-Johorian club, now you have a scientific fact from an anthropological viewpoint to explain your sweet hatred for Johorians). The nephew of Daeng Kemboja was appointed the first Sultan of Selangor. That makes the entire Selangor Sultanate part Arab, part Chinese.

(Oh and remember the infamous princess Hang Li Poh that married a Sultan of Malacca? Fiction. Go get busy, do some research and you won't find a "Hang" in the list of princesses during the Ming Dynasty.)

If you go back in time, there was a 2,000 year-old Hindu empire in Kedah called Langkasuka. Predating both Borrobudur and Angkor Wat. The name Kedah originated from Hindi and Sanskit words, "Kadar" and "Kidara", which means "fertile land for rice cultivation". You can find plenty of Indian influences in our so-called very Malay culture today. The terms "Sultan" and "Raja" was adopted from Indian culture. The pelamin at weddings and the snake amulet that the Sultans wear today are photostat copies of Indian tradition.

(On a separate note, it's funny that we call ourselves Bumiputeras and the rest as, well, migrants. Well aren't you forgetting something? We are all migrants, idiot. Kau tu pendatang, aku pon pendatang, bangang. Amik kau kan dah rhyme)

And also, Parameswara wasn't the first Sultan in our ridiculously short history. The first one came 1,500 years ago. Can you dig that? Of course you can. You're not stupid. Anyway, carrying on. There is also a whole set of arguments pertaining the very definition of the word "Malay". But that'll turn this nonsense post into a thesis wannabe. Maybe another day for that impossibly crazy endeavour.

So, in short. We, the Malays, are a very new race. We are infants, children in the eyes of the world, in this 6,000 years of recorded history on this 4 billion year-old earth. It's been a long time since the Mesopotamians till today's Information Age. And in a larger context of world history, the Malays have just merely begun. Post-1969 National Economic Plan was crafted with that in mind, that the Malays, the Bumiputeras, needed help. We don't have the knowledge and experience of other older cultures such as the Chinese and the Indians. We're still learning and we need help. But unfortunately, many years later, it backfired. But that's a whole other different story. Worthy of another thesis wannabe, another sorry attempt at sounding clever. Maybe another day.

It took me awhile to realise why is it that the mat sallehs, of the same age, seemed to be far more matured, experienced and exposed in almost every aspect of life. I have family scattered all around the world, but the closest ones is an Englishman an a few Australians. I've come to learn much about our differences from them. Interacting, observing, listening. And I remember feeling so stupid and ignorant. The disparity was so nauseating I could've puked on myself out of sheer self-loathing.

(Don't fret, I've met my fair share of beautifully flawed mat sallehs. Shallow, boring, complete raving idiots. Half of them can't even spell correctly in their own mother tongue.)

Generalisations are horrible. Of course they are, all generalisations are horrible. But in most cases, they are unfortunately true. It's just that most people disregard and push them aside just because they're unpleasant and politically incorrect. Of course you can argue that there are exceptions, anomalies, etc. Well hello, that's what generalisations are, you genius. A "general" viewpoint. Nothing is perfect, just so you know.

You can blame our "stupidity and ignorance" to a thousand things. Terrible education system, bad governance, being an infant pseudo race, whatever. The future might seem bleak. But I'm sure there's a way out of it. There always is. When a door slams shut and breaks your nose, a window magically opens. And maybe if the door was cheap PVC, it'll crack, and you'll find a way to pry it open. When an obstacle hinders your progress, you can either jump over it or just bulldoze through the damn thing. Or maybe both at the same time if you happen to hail from Krypton. In that case, God bless you.

We are an eclectically mixed up race of borrowed blood and borrowed cultures. I don't find anything wrong in that, nor do I have any problem with it at all. There is hardly any originality in today's world anyway, so why bother fighting a losing battle? The problem is that we are afraid of admitting the truth. For whatever stupid, stupid reasons.

We are sick and dying, and we need help. We've been drugged with complacency and childish tendencies. We are drunk with over indulgence and unnecessary pampering. We need a fucking 12-step program. We need to admit that there is a problem, seek help, engage in self-examination, make amends, help ourselves and our fellow brothers and sisters. We have to do something before our beloved pseudo ABC campur race takes a backseat and one day be something worthy of being forgotten.

This is my way of doing something, anything. With this ridiculously expensive computer I bought with daddy's money, I type out my shamelessly borrowed thoughts and borrowed unoriginal ideas and borrowed cold hard facts, hit enter, and send it warping at light speed to cyberspace with the godsend help of TMNet Streamyx, the world's most screwed up and completely unreliable internet service provider. Through sheer chance or perhaps magic, it appeared on your screen. With hopes that it maybe, just maybe, cause a twitch. A prick. A hard on. An epiphany. A ripple. Something. Anything. This is my plea. To stop being stupid. To stop being ignorant. And fucking wake up.

"God grant me the serenity, to accept the things I can't change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference" - Serenity Prayer, NA.

p/s: I originally wanted to write a dedication to a few "stupid and ignorant" acquaintances who have been irritating the wits out of me, albeit from afar. But irritating, nonetheless. So basically that original intention was lost after the second paragraph. I think I meandered a bit. Just a little bit. A teeny weeny bit.

The Paradox of Our Time

2008-06-11T23:02:00.005+08:00

"The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings, but shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints; we spend more, but have less; we buy more, but enjoy it less.

We have bigger houses and smaller families; more conveniences, but less time; we have more degrees, but less sense; more knowledge, but less judgment; more experts, but more problems; more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get angry too quickly, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too seldom, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We've learned how to make a living, but not a life; we've added years to life, not life to years.

We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor. We've conquered outer space, but not inner space; we've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul; we've split the atom, but not our prejudice.

We write more, but learn less; we plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait; we have higher incomes, but lower morals; we have more food, but less appeasement; we build more computers to hold more information to produce more copies than ever, but have less communication; we've become long on quantity, but short on quality.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion; tall men, and short character; steep profits, and shallow relationships. These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare; more leisure, but less fun; more kinds of food, but less nutrition.

These are days of two incomes, but more divorce; of fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throw away morality, one-night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer to quiet to kill.

It is a time when there is much in the show window and nothing in the stockroom; a time when technology has brought this letter to you, and a time when you can choose to either share this insight, or to just hit delete."

- Dr Bob Moorehead

The Girl in the White Dress

2008-06-08T23:46:00.004+08:00

What can be more alluring that her warm sweet smile carved by such sweet sultry succulent lips wrapped around her soft porcelain face. Her braces twinkles just as her eyes sparkles so adorably. Her silky, jet black, bobcat hair she wears bounces on every careful rhythmic step.

Like a cup of moist chocolate mousse. Soft, tender and melts ever so gently in your mouth. It melts onto your tongue, flowing gently through your body, and into your heart of hearts.

She walked up to me, smiling widely, and politely asked in completely disastrous broken English, "Some tea or coffee you like having? Very nice very warm, on the house no pay you are guest".

I asked for some coffee instead. She walked away, presumably to get my "very nice very warm, on the house no pay you are guest" coffee. But after a good 20 minutes I figured she must've forgotten all about it.

Idiot.

Your Country is Stupid

2008-06-06T03:01:00.002+08:00

Giovanna is an idiot.

Even Antonio, her fellow Itallian, can't stand her. Fira wants to punch her face in and Ina wants to kick her out of the house.

I've a feeling Giovanna is an Aries. Stubborn, argumentative, strong willed, and somewhat entertaining. She can be funny sometimes, but most of the time she's just plain nasty. She's a selfish demanding diva who does whatever the hell she wants whenever she wants without care nor regard for anyone around her. Apparently simple courtesy doesn't exist in her dictionary. Though among all of her utmost "admirable" qualities, the biggest one is definitely her inability to respond to common sense. How do you deal with someone who constantly complains about everything under the sun and insults your country, people, weather, food, architecture, culture, traditions and religion? How do possibly argue with a Roman Catholic who says things like "Nobody in Italy reads the Bible, it's only there for show". Even Zakir Naik would eventually give up arguing with her. Ahmadeedat? He'd just stab her to death with blunt chopsticks.

Honestly, I love dealing with difficult characters. I enjoy the conflict and the endless debates. People like Giovanna are like old, grumpy, sexually abused Persian cats. Nothing in the world can possibly please them. They're almost never not angry. They're picky and demanding. They hiss at you when they don't get what they want. They're zenophobic. They live alone and eventually, probably, die alone.

But of course, it's not easy being an unattractive sexually repressed 30 year-old mat salleh female in a local government university. Especially when you go to class wearing a white singlet with no bra on.

Tip: If you don't want to die a lonely old spinster (with no cats, because they hate you so much they'd drown themselves in the washing machine), try not to be a hard headed nihilist cynic who complains about everything because you're too perfect. Also, when you're doing your Masters don't major in Stupidity. It really doesn't help when you're ugly, stupid and hateful. Definitely not a winning combo.

Phoenix

2008-06-05T03:55:00.012+08:00

Happy birthday my dear budak kecik, semi-stranger, and now, imaginary ex-girlfriend.

I remember you once asked me, "Am I strong?". I knew fully well how you were feeling at that time, and the rational thing to do would be to utter words of optimism, of encouragement. Positive cliches, albeit overused, are true. To a certain extent. But sometimes we need to hear the truth. Without rose-tinted glasses, without lacing words with sweet hypnotic perfume. Sometimes we need to know things as it really is. And there will be times that we'll need exactly that.

But that doesn't necessarily mean it's a bad thing. It really isn't. The truth is difficult. Having to face reality is difficult. Life, being the way it is, is composed of constants and variables. I believe that the "truth", in the most general sense of the word, is a variable. I may have done bad things in the past, I cannot change the truth in that. But because of what I had to endure, I learned that I can change that "truth" today so that I will not repeat the same mistakes tomorrow.

I replied back to you, "You are not strong". Because as of that particular moment, you were not. We all have moments like that. And it is also one of those infinite number of variables in life that we all just have to deal with. Even at the most trying of times, you can change that. When? How? Well, that is all up to you.

It is written that life is fated and predestined, but never forget that God gave us free will for a reason. And it is our duty, whoever we are, whatever our beliefs are, to utilise it to our very best. To search for that constant in life, whatever it may be. In hopes that it will give us something strong, something concrete, a constant truth if you may, to hold on to dear life and enjoy the ride for better or worse, in sickness and in health, in death and in dreams.

You may not be strong today. But isn't it true that we need to be weak to be strong? That we need to learn to walk before we run. That to be able to climb a thousand stairs we need to take that first step. It is only natural to fall and falter every once in awhile. Sometimes we trip over a small boulder, sometimes we fall into bottomless pits of despair and hopelessness. But isn't that just the other half of the yin and yang of life? The other duality. The central idea and concept in life, in Islam. There is the beginning and the end, good and evil, weak and strong, male and female, black and white, life and death.

I've never believed that the other half of life's duality to be something bad nor should we fear it. Darkness is not darkness in itself, rather it is merely an absence of light. It is just a necessary evil. And necessary evils are, of course, a necessity. For a good reason.

Fix your variables. Find your constant. And believe in yourself. Nothing in the world can stop you from finding what you want.

I hope you will one day see the light in yourself. Because believe me, I see it in you.

"Is it true that some of our strength comes from suffering? That suffering hardships makes us stronger? That those of us who have never known a real hardship, and true suffering, cannot have the same strength as others, who have suffered much? And if that is true, does that not mean that your argument is the same thing as saying that we have to be weak to suffer, and we have to suffer to be strong, so we have to be weak to be strong?" - K.

Those Were the Moments

2008-06-04T23:43:00.000+08:00

We were having a smoke at the basement carpark. In that purple haze, we were catching up, talking and laughing about everything under the sun. Of our past stupid adventures, girl troubles, how much our homes have changed, the shitty weather, our cats.

I passed him the joint, and he said, "Bro, I hope we'll be friends for life".

My heart smiled, and I whispered to myself, "Me too. Me too".

Two Minutes and Much, Much More

2008-06-03T18:44:00.000+08:00

You can see it in their eyes. Their hopes, fears, insecurities, and the abundance of masks they try to hide themselves in. Their past, present, future. Some people carry it in their eyes their lies and truths. You can sense where they've been before, their pain and anguish, and the changes that transpired later that made them the people they are today. That fiery passion, that blind determination, that peace of mind, that sincerity.

I saw that in her. She's a person twice my age with an energy of someone twice as young. She carried something in her eyes. I remember seeing her past, present, future. Her past was painful, difficult, it was full of emptiness and turmoil. Her present is a monumental sigh of relief, happiness and a peace of mind. Her future is full of unbreakable hopes.

But what really struck me was her sincerity. She carried such an honest, innocent heart. So much warmth, so much compassion. But at the same time with the maturity and realist of an experienced woman who have gone through enough in her lifetime to know how to keep her feet planted firmly on the ground without letting her ideals turn to aloof wonders and float about with careless childish abandon.

She turned to my mom and said, "You have a powerful son".

And one of the last things she said to me was, "I can see it in you. I believe. You can move the world".

Thank you. For your honesty. For your encouragement. For your hopes. For sharing your life with me for those brief two minutes. But believe me, you gave me so much more.

The First Day

2008-06-02T01:16:00.000+08:00

I got a call from Fareed one day. A friend of his needed some help. The kind of help I can't allow myself to get involved in anymore. He refused to tell me for whom it was for, so yeah, I got the hint. I politely declined and hung up.

That day I was in the city for a seminar. I sat through the first day with as much enthusiasm as a 12 year-old listening to a microeconomics lecture. I chomped down sour sweets and took frequent cigarette breaks to keep myself from falling asleep. The second day came and I thought to myself, "No way in hell I'm gonna force myself to sit through this again". I refuse to waste my time in something I'm not even remotely interested in to begin with. I got dropped off at a nearby hotel, strolled to the adjacent train station and bought a one way ticket to the nearest shopping mall for lunch.

After a shitty meal at that dodgy mall, I took a walk outside and lit a cigarette. I watched the ebb and flow of the city street. A colourful charade of people and cars, stray felines and zombie-like dogs. School kids in virginal white uniforms and 12 year-old wannabe punks loitering around and about. And then I saw a familiar figure. He waved from afar.

It was Omar. "Holy fucking shit!", I screamed aloud. We shooked hands and hugged like a stupid sappy Jejak Kasih reunion of two long lost brothers. I haven't seen him for the longest time, thinking all this while that he must've gone back to Saudi Arabia. We weren't very close, but we did have some pretty damn good memories. The best ones were those times listening to him rap to Tupac in the wee hours of the morning while I helplessly try to catch up. He raps like a motherfucker. As a matter of fact, that was the first thing he said to me when we met eons ago, "What's up motherfucker". He was on medication, so I excused his ridiculous rudeness.

He was a joy to have around. With his thick American accent, he spoke as fast as a runaway freight train. Severely bi-polar at one point, Omar had frequent outbursts. My first encounter with his occasional explosions of rage was when we first met. After introducing myself, I sat in midway through one of his infamously annoying monologues. Omar was talking about Gaddafi, calling him a traitor to the Arab world and a fledging cocksucker, steadily increasing the tone of his voice and inserting every profanity known to man, he started talking about homosexuality and describing in articulate detail of the various ways that gays, lesbians and trannys will burn in hell. At that point he was fuming red like his head was on the verge of exploding, rocking back and forth trying to calm himself down. He paused midway, popped in a pill, and continued rocking back and forth. I liked him since then on.

"What the fuck are you doing here!", I said. We caught up and he updated me on his whereabouts these days. I found out later that, apparently, Fareed's "secret friend" who asked for the "favour" was not that much of a secret after all. That friend was Omar himself, who happened to be our mutual friend. What a ridiculously freaky coincidence. I get a call from an old friend (how he got my number, beats me), whom I haven't heard for the longest time, asking for a ridiculous favour on behalf of another friend, who turns out to be an old friend of mine, someone I've completely lost touch with for a long time, whom I coincidentally would bump into at a place downtown (where I hardly if ever go to begin with). In a cruel twist of fate, I met the last person I'd ever want to meet again.

We took the monorail back to his place. I knew that his parents are filthy rich and could easily afford that affluent apartment, but I also knew that his family has cut him off financially. I asked him about the place, and everything he owned from new clothes to the latest PS2, brand spanking new stereo system, Astro, everything. This bi-polar, rap machine, junkie also happens to be a genius mathematician. He went up to Genting and won shitloads of money (think 21). Twice in a span of a few days. The casino banned him and escorted him out together with his winnings. He came down, bought a place in KL and finished every dime on PS2 games, drugs, booze and hookers.

I bought him lunch and spent the day at his place. We had nonsense conversations. Half of the time I sat quietly listening to him rap, in between verses telling me about his life in Malaysia, past sexual conquests, and hopes for a better future. The evening rolled in, darkening the smoke filled room. It was time to go home. I promised him I'll come by the next day and took a long walk back to the hotel.

Omar called me the next day. After a dozen or so missed calls, he sent me a text message. "Kau mana motherfucking orang gila". That was the last time I ever heard from him. The following week, he took the first flight out back to Saudi Arabia.

"All the best motherfucker".

Eventide and In the Morning

2008-06-01T22:20:00.000+08:00

I can still vividly remember hearing the takbir Raya for the first time. I was a few years old back then when we were still living in Taman Putra. It was early in the morning, just as the sun was rising, at an unusual time for me to be up. Wandering around the house bored and groggy, I heard a faint sound coming from the outside.

Out of curiosity, I walked to the locked front door to peer outside and inspect what that sound was and where was it coming from. I looked around and saw people with white jubah and baju melayu walking towards the nearby mosque. I clutched the cold grills with both hands, with complete childlike wonder, peering further to that faint, mysterious sound.

And then it came. Floating frighteningly, rapidly, soothingly through the peaceful still morning air. The serene music sent tiny ripples throughout my body. A million goosebumps erupted on my skin and sent a sudden shiver down my spine. That was how I felt the first time in my life that I heard the takbir Raya. Years and years have since passed, and it still gives me that same feeling from that morning in Taman Putra. That sensation that resonates and uplifts me like nothing else. A sense of peace and melancholic serenity.

I've never heard of any sound, any song, any music, more beautiful than that. And I know I'll never hear anything else that will sound any more beautiful than that.

Escape to Nowhere

2008-05-31T16:46:00.006+08:00

I love writing here.

I can write and talk about anything I want. I can be whoever I want to be, whoever I can and can't be. I can play games, confuse and twist your thoughts. I have the power to put assumptions and unnecessary speculations in your head. I will allow you to judge me, my words, but of course, I will have the last laugh. Because all that you can possibly achieve with such a meek self-righteous crusade is to judge a mirror, your very own reflection.

I have the freedom to write complete utter nonsense, speak of lies and half-truths. Sometimes I write about my own real, actual, true experiences, thoughts and frustrations. But, of course, that's not always the case. There would always be a lie, or two, or more, behind every story. There would always be an abstract, hidden meaning behind even the simplest sentence. There would always be some doublespeaks, dichotomies, oxymorons.

We are all liars. And in here, I intend to be nobody but myself and everyone at the same time. What's the use of pretending we're all perfect angels without flaws and fears? That we don't have skeletons in the closet. That are always happy. Why are we so afraid of telling the truth? Of what we think, of what we feel, of our fears and frustrations. Why are we so afraid to open up and seem vulnerable? Why are we so afraid of being judged? Why does what other people think or say matter so much?

But then again, I do contradict myself. Even now.

In here, it's like I'm having conversations with a stranger, a friend, an enemy, a lover, a cat, and with anyone and everyone and no one at the same time. I can talk about myself and not have to worry that I'd make my friends nauseated with my self-indulging stories. This is a place I can come to and hide when the world outside starts to scare me.

In here, I'm free.

Last Beach

2008-05-31T02:09:00.002+08:00

Fluffy white clouds. Clear blue sky. Calm crystal clear blue waters. Powder white sands. Towering coconut trees swaying. Evergreen grass. Couples strolling barefooted down the beach. Kids frolicking in the waters. Jet skis zooming to and fro. Yachts silently sailing by. Lamb's Gabriel playing. Beautiful women tanning under the scorching bright sun. Soft silent winds.

I'll see you next year.

Press Stop, Rewind, Erase

2008-05-30T06:36:00.004+08:00

My heart broke to a million pieces when I finally realised that I've lost you. You may never understand this. No one will ever understand this. I may never be able to comprehend the gravity of my mistakes. Because it's all too much to bear, for me to even begin to rationalise such... incredibly catastrophic events. I'm falling in between the cracks. And you're not there. And you may never come back. I should've come over, but it may already be too late.

You're the tear that will hang inside my soul forever.
You have always been.
You will always be.

I'm not the person you thought I was.
I'm not someone you deserve.
You're not the person I deserve.
Because I'm not the person you thought I was.

Is This Goodbye?

2008-05-29T05:53:00.009+08:00

I've realized now, the long hard painful way, that she's the Sawyer in my imaginary TV series. That sometimes you have to do the wrong thing before you know what's the right thing to do. I've made so many mistakes in the past, so many things that I've regretted. It's only a matter of time that karma will come around, grab me, pull me down, beat every ounce of my sinful fibers, and force me to learn the hard, hard way. But it has always been that way, hasn't it?

I do believe that things happen for a reason, that there is no such thing as a coincidence. I believe that behind every storm, every disaster, every mistake, there's a silver lining. Life has a way of teaching you lessons. And it's funny how life will teach you those lessons again and again, until you'll get it right. When I think about it, sometimes, where is the silver lining behind the "right" lessons? Where is the silver lining behind the "wrong" lessons learnt? Is there really an absolute right or wrong?

It is stated that whatever happens, for better or worse, there's a hikmah hidden in between the lines. I'm not a big believer in fatalism, but sometimes certain events that have transpired in the past had made me think otherwise. Some people cruise through life in a fairly comfortable and secure way. While others, some, go through life in random zig zag, unpredictable, and in a fashionably catastrophic manner.

I really do wonder. Can some mistakes ever be undone? Can it ever be reversed? Can we ever start over, amend things, make things better? Can we ever put a band-aid over it and move on? Or maybe, some people are just fated to go through life the hard way. For reasons perhaps we will never truly understand. Sometimes I do see a bright future ahead of me, doing the things I love, the things I've always dreamt of doing, having my family close with me, and all the people I love around me.

But sometimes, just sometimes, I envision my future to be the complete opposite of that. That perhaps I'm doomed for an eternity of difficulties, pain and merciless sorrow. Not to sound like Dostoevsky extracting paragraphs from Notes from the Underground, but, it really is not as bleak as it sounds. This is not self-pity, nor it is a complete surrender to pessimism.

This is reality. No matter how hard we try, we don't always get what we want. I'm bracing myself for more "karmic" moments that sooner or later I'll have to pay for. I've climbed out of my fair share of rock bottoms. But I've a feeling there's one more, just one more, that will be the toughest that I'll ever have to go through.

Til then, I'll just take one day at a time.
Just one day at a time.
One day at a time.

Walk the Line, This Thin Red Line

2008-05-28T12:56:00.001+08:00

Drying up in conversation,
You will be the one who cannot talk
All your insides fall to pieces,
You just sit there wishing you could still make love
They're the ones who'll hate you
When you think you've got the world all sussed out
They're the ones who'll spit at you,
You will be the one screaming out
Don't leave me high, don't leave me dry
It's the best thing that you ever had,
The best thing that you ever, ever had
The best thing you ever had has gone away

Or maybe I'm just being selfish?
But really, with everything else that's going on, there's only so much I can take.
Everyone has their breaking point.
And I think I'm this close to reaching mine.

p/s: if you think this is about you, it is not. but really, how would you really tell if it's about you to begin with? would you even know the "you" i'm taking about? you'd have absolutely no idea. take this as a riddle for you, whoever you are, whoever you think you are, and think about it long and hard, until you break to a million pieces, just like how I did, over and over and over and over again.

Or, maybe, I'm just being selfish?

Fullstop

2008-05-27T01:53:00.001+08:00

I have a million things to write about.
As soon as the clouds in my head begins to clear, I'll begin writing.
Sometimes even ranting about everything and nothing gets tiring after awhile.
It''s time to start writing.
And I will, soon enough.

Simplification of Complications

2008-05-24T15:55:00.001+08:00

I don't want you anymore. Not you. Nor you. And definitely not you. Not any of you. Can't you just leave me alone?

Await Rescue

2008-05-24T13:01:00.002+08:00

Today I trashed half my room, broke the cupboard and cut my knuckles and elbows. There's some left over blood on the table and keyboard. I was thinking about crashing my car on the way back home, and strangely enough, it happened. I floored, oversteered, and jumped over the curb. There was smoke everywhere. The car wouldn't lock. The lights wouldn't switch off. I took a slow slumbering walk back home accompanied by some Pall Malls. On the way back I was thinking about finishing up the cupboard with my dad's golf club. I feel like destroying something.

Never Sever

2008-05-21T23:29:00.001+08:00

Are you saying something,
or are saying nothing at all?

Am I imagining too much,
or is there something to it?

Am I someone to you,
or am I just someone else?

Today is the first morning I woke up in a long time,
but not yet a pure morning.

In these stormy weather,
I hope I will never sever.

Don't ever sever,
because without you I'm nothing.