Happy New Year.
A bit obsolete by now but who s stoppin me.
To all that i havent seen or heard from in yonks, i extend this late 07 wish to you.
To friends, wherever you guys were on the eve of 31st, hope y’all had a blast.
To close pals, i missed all of yas and i thought of y all fo sure.
I miss getting online yo. Now im just waitin fo the right time.
WTF? I cant read my blogs yo. Gotta do a bloody CSI on this one.
I ve always thought that, despite shortcomings, flaws and all the crap
that surrounds my being, all in all, at the end of the day, i can still
say that im an ok person. Yeah im very aware that im not all that
embodies perfection, and yeah im so completely ok with that fact. After
all nothing is. With that thought in mind, ive always believed that all
througout, from preschool days up till collage, ive been pretty much an
anverage kid. likable, friendly, fun and all that ra ra ras…(stop me
now if you think im wiping my own ass and loving it).
The happy childhood thoughts were shot down with a mighty shotgun when
mom came to me one fine day and told me.."Did you know, you were not
wanted in that preschool you went to?" Picture all the ‘lovely’
memories i had crashing down in a tidal wave of false truths. Im still
recovering from the trauma.
So. Apparently my grade teacher then, spoke to my mother behind my back
( but then again she might as well be spelling everything out for me
and i still wouldnt understand right..? heh) and specifacally told her
that i didnt have the right attitude for the school.
ooooooooohhh….what a danger i was to the other kids. yeah so i was a
little bit of a bully. someones got to be to toughen up the meeks,
agree? no? too bad.
anyways, yes, i was not made for the school. fancy that. no it wasnt
some high rep overpriced kindergarten that stuffs you in a fancy
uniform that make you act like twats. it was just an ordinary
house-next-door kinda preschool, with silly drawings all over the wall,
and recess with your own packed lunch. who the hecks’ NOT made for that
kinda school? you tell me.
So i asked mom, what ‘d you do then? she said she prayed. and she
prayed a lot. did i get kicked out of school? No, she said. i somehow
survived. phew. thats a relief. i was beginning to think that all those
memories and pictures of my past didnt exist. so? what happened? she
said it got her really really worried. She didnt know what to make out
of me anymore. and i was only what? 6? give me a damn break! my
sensibilities were doubted even before it had a chance to develop. poor
me. hm. i think ive just done a psychosis on myself and found the
answer to all my problems. ha ha. ok whatever. back to the story.
I didnt have the right attitude. okay. let me TRY and defend myself,
the opposition being…no one. first of all, were the other kids
somehow born with the innate talent to differenciate good and bad
behaviour? if so then why the hell were they sent to school in the
first place? if thats not the right question at hand, then were they
(the teachers) indirectly blaming my parents (whom are lovely people
might i add) for my disapproving 6 year old behaviour? (if they were,
they are a bunch of low lifes motherfuckers who dont deserve kids of
thier own and i condemn them to eternal hell on earth as well as
hereafter). What the hell were my parents paying them for then right?
To just sit thier ass and play watchdog for half the day? I dont think
so.
Secondly, lets say i admit i had an attitude problem. Isnt that thier
department in helping my parents handle the situation? Instead of just
complaining to them…no..make that Whining…instead of whining back
to them, why couldnt they rectify my attitude and show me the gadamn
light right? Bunch of Pussies. Goes to show how much training and
education they got to handle six year olds. I mean..COME ON. They made
me sound like i was a variable candidate to go out there into the world
and destroy it.
Lastly, again, lets say i do admit that ive an attitude problem…whats
the worst that can happen? what kind of damage can a six year old do to
herself and the other kids around her? Honestly, the worst thing i
remembered doing, was yell shut up at this gangly tall indian boy who
then cried to the grade teacher about it and in return she made the
whole entire class yell shut up back at me. is that the way to teach a
kid a lesson? maybe. cos i dont wake up everyday hating myself, or try
kill a sheep everytime i see one. but i think thats thanks to my mental
power. thats besides the point. anyway, i got my punishment did i not?
i swear..sometimes i think they simply just hate my guts cos i had one.
maybe i was too much for them to handle cos i was acting a little more
than a six year old. hm. (am i wiping my ass and loving it again?
hahaha…)
The conclusion to it all is that my mom came through with me through
her determination to make me right, wherever i was wrong. which is what
parents do, HELLO. and she came out of it proud and strong. and for her
to say to me herself that i am her pride and joy, is great enough yo.
and thank God she didnt listen to that dumb bitch grade school teacher.
can you imagine how a mother feels, to hear something like that about
her kid? I hope grade schools are a td more advance now for the sake of
my own kids man. Or ill have to resort to opening one up myself and
show them gradeschool teachers how its done…HAH take that Mrs Gee!
you moronic wimp.
The other conclusion is, people should give people a chance. Especially
to the little people. They dont know any better. And thats why theyre
littler. Its the bigger people’s job to show them the right-a-way. The
idea is to have the right kind of big people to lead. And thus, thats
what schools are for, Mrs Gee, you nitwit. I hate you by the way.
So i may sound a little worked up over the whole deal. After all its in
the past right. And your past made you what you are today right. Should
i thank the nitwit? Sure, why not. Thank You Nitwit. But i’ll never
forgive you for the near breakdown that you might have caused my mother
and father. And the near possibility of turning me into a potential
people hater. At that note, i’d like to say, thank God for Primary
School. Cos it was primary school that flushed away all those bitter
beginnings. Phew.
Hey, i really did do a psychosis onto myself. Im healed! hahaha…..
Peace.
I should just mind my own damn business. I mean…its not like it
affects me in any real way. But heck it irritates the crap out of me.
In fact its irritating the crap out of me for the fact that after yonks
of not blogging, i chose to blog about it now. However, i do have a
point to ponder, and it is after all my blog space. So be it.
I was told last week its Siti’s nikah day today. Im trying hard to
resist the temptation of rolling my eyes again everytime her name is
mentioned, even by me. Lets see. What other Siti-related inputs have
there been since the whole shebang of her soon to be union with the
Misai Man (yuck)….ah yes…the live telecast by various networks from
Indonesia who are willing to pay through thier nose mouths and ear
lobes…uhm..well thats all the exposure i allow myself to handle when
it comes to this ridiculous phenomenon. Ah whatever.
Once upon a time, she was famous for being a singer. Once upon a time
only her fans care. Once upon a time, i never cared. Now i cant help
but care. Because there goes what we know of the appreciation of the
arts. Celebrity hype culture of today takes it all away, churns it in
its ugly mouth and spit it out. Its
no more just about the arts and science of music/theatre. Its thier
lives as well. Its not high pop culture anymore. Its insignificant
trash culture. Hollywood makes a great big brother example (duh). What
was that saying they keep repeating in the industry? bad publisity is
better than no publisity. huh. yeah. no shit sherlocks. thats great for
the "stars" and "superstars" of today. for now. but what about the
future individuals and thier perception of real talent, tradtitional vs
pop culture and its worth, and making a living out of it? and what of
thier values when pinned to that ideal? I predict the deterioration of
the industry. And the deterioration in the appreciation of the craft.
Maybe im just worrying for nothing. Maybe there is a good that ll come
out of it. Maybe im just turning into a traditionalist. Maybe im just
sick of the whole thing.Maybe i should just get back to work now.
But i should just as well mind my own damn business. huh.
MutantDickMania. hahahahaha. WTF? Is there really an audience for that one?
Was clearing out my inbox in hotmail and as usual, the junks are
somehow trash like that. how the F did it get there anyways eh? i know
its all to do with links and shiet but man, someone should really get
down to the technical details and tell me one day. we ll make a date
out of it.
Well anyway. Good morning good morning.
Somehow or rather, my phone alarm went off at 7.45 this morn when i
know for a fact that i set it at 7. who knows the mystery to that one.
when i got in the car, aaaaaaaall the way to work my timing was
completely off course. i could as well be sailing on sand. i was
stopping at all traffic ligths i never had to stop at. i was looking
at parts of the city that i never wouldve given two hoots about. have
you ever noticed how red orange and yellow the flowers really look in
the morning? its like Ronald Macs’ world if he was from Asia. Ok i m
crapping.
Okay anyway, timing was off. for one second one thought crossed. damn
it. the day is going to suck. cos everything is tipping on the wrong
end. cos everything is different. had i left the house at 7.30 like
always, id be speed cruising through this red light right now. change.
we always see it as a bad thing dont we?
but you know what? i got in at precisely 9.14 astro time which is great
cos at 9.16 id be considered late. usually…no no. lately, i get in at
either 9.20 (thats 10 bucks off my pay) or 9.45 ( and thats a bloody 20
bucks off).
instead of getting into my own world after making the usual morning
coffee, i paused for a short morning chat with two of the guys here.
turned out to be one delightful conversation i havent had in decades.
in between the the two guys, i managed to slip in a couple of remarks
to this cute secretary called Joey. that trailed on to couple of cute
lil jokes with her. and then that went on to me finding out that she s
a mother of two. she looks like she just graduated from uni. pretty
amazing, the fairer sex. we rawk yo.
well you catch my drift here right? you know where im going with this
one. lets not forget the flowers at the early morning jam.
sometimes change is not good. sometimes change is Great.
yea yea yea…im in a good mood. shoot me.
the little help i got from the thing that shall not be named this
morning doesnt hurt either (cough cough
ahem..cough..oooohdamngoodsh*t..heheh).
ps: ey..it was a short thin one la aight. i dont need much nowadays.
kay then. one last thing. did anyone notice how inspiring the sky looked today?
its lunch time. i go down to the 5th floor for my daily after lunch
dessert of fruits from the fruits stall. usually, its tapau lunch, then
tapau fruits. but sometimes i bring lunch from home. so today, its just
fruits.
i line up like any other sane person would do when you see a que. i pick my choice from the aneka buah yang ada. then i wait.
out of the great blue, comes a rush of "hens" (i use hens, because its
more polite, than the word that i rather use) going,
"nyoknyeknyoknyeknyoknyek..". next thing you know two of them are
talking thier way to the front of the que with no regard whatsoever to
the sane people who s been there first. typical.
i look at them attempting to give The Stare, with the hopes that the
neuron in that thick head of thiers whould finally work. no such
friggin luck.
fine. its just fruits anyway. no use losing anything over fruits.
but then, life is so full of surprises. the que -cutters began
sondol-ing thier hefty arses not realizing that the spot just aint big
enough for the overlaod of fats on thier rears. they begin to annoy the
shit out of me. they begin to annoy the shit out of every other
womenfolk there who sense the same idiocy that is being witnessed.
THEN, taking thier Godforsaken sweet time, they take thier pick, and
have the nerve to ask the rest of the hens that DIDNT cut the que, "ko
nak buah apa, pah? aku pilih yang comel punya untuk ko.."
i could do so many things at that point.
one: say, "eh cik kak, buta ka apa?"
two: say, "tak reti beratur ke??"
three: say, "WOI! PUNDEK BETUL! BERATUR LAH!"
four: cut thier "que" and buat pekak.
five: snatch thier fruits right out of thier hands, give it a good throw, and proceed to waiting, pretending nothing happened.
six: snatch thier fruits right out of thier hands, give it a good
throw, making sure it hit someone in the head. and when that
unfortunate head turns to my direction, i point to the hens.
i perservered. for i, am no hen. so what did i do?
i bite my tounge. and let it slide.
ten minutes later, im upstairs enjoying my lunch, the hen episode
forgotten. later on, i feast on my fruits, and my my, arent they much
sweeter today.
urgh. i feel like such a lame ass, sitting here at my cubicle, writing
blog after meaningless blog, cruising the net like a bored teenager,
surf-sneaking in the middle of computer class. hate it. hate hate hate
it.
please dont think im slacking off work cos im not. please dont think im
not taking the initiative to find work cos there isnt any. please.
everyone around me is so immersed in thier tasks. frowns seem to frame
every forehead here. the best part is, my pc is the only one here with
the world wide web. so. its pretty obvious that when im consistently
typing and clicking away, im NOT really doing anything that is remotely
important that contributes to the companys’ name. AND, they aaaaaalllll
knows it.
to top it off, somehow, i seem to think that its okay for me to put all
this up in multiply, and then select "Everyone". at least theres a
little spirit left there. sheeeeeeesh.
issues issues. if only they grew on hair. then i could just chop all my
hair off and walk out of the hairsaloon, as light as a fairys’ ass.
but no. there s no such thing as a fairys’ ass. just like theres no
such thing as issues growing on hair. what the eff man. oh ..and
suddenly im saying eff instead of Fuck.
aaahahahahaaa…
help me. im going insane.
pheh
the nerve. you pour your soul. your spell it out a by b by c..and
still, silence is your answer. thats the shit part with expectations.
once again, i fell into that trap. and i have to swallow my own friggin
words. what the friggin fuck.
why why why. why do i torture myself. if only there s a button that you
can just click "off". if only that thing called feelings is chalk on
the blackboard that you can just wipe off with a spit on the palm. if
only if only. bleagh. *fedup*
vent alita, vent. well yesserrie, here i am venting muthafucka.
tap tap, there it goes.
clap clap, go on, burn in the shadows.
what the hell am i pissin on here man?
WHAT?
oh .. hey…there it is.
its just my back aching like an apple trapped in a fucking twisted piece of metal.
mention architecture, and generally, people would go.."oooh.."
mention architect, the same general people would go.." waaaa…"
well..that used to be me. after about 4 months of exposure to the world
of plans, CAD artists and building appreciation, im a little wiser.
well. ok. not wiser. i can do more than "oooh.." and "waaaa..". its
like going back to the days when i used to wonder how the heck they
send SMS’s from one phone to another way on the other side of town. all
that text. in a mobile phone. yes, i was that clueless.
much to my own amazement, thier job is pretty bland. i mean, yeah…its
so cool that they somehow twist and turn thier wrists around, and Walla!..instead
of a rabbit, they pull an entire building out of the hat. things are
just more magical when you dont see them. but really, the botom line
here is, its just plans after plans after plans. and then, after all
that, its more plans.
i used to imagine that the work process consisted of more variations…
and was somewhat more…artsy. maybe it is, in its own architectural
context, like coming up with a design for a building. but in the naked
eye of an obsever, its just plain tedious. which is probably why they
are paid so damn much. and they probably deserve more.
where am i going with this? actually, i dont know. i was having my
after-lunch-ciggie break at the stairwell while browsing through an
interior design magazine when i thought of my thoughts. and it landed
on this pebble garden in one of the magazine pages. and i thought,
there you have it. the zen of today. a dead garden. that probably costs
more than a semi detatched house in taman tun. nice.
then my thoughts (boy they sure are active today) went on to how my
eyes are opening wider as the days pass, to how design is taking over
everything in this world. and yet, we (Malaysia) still cant concieve
something thats Incredibly Original, something that can truly, at the
bottom of our hearts, make us go, "hey, thats a fuckin Malaysian
original aight!".
and then (bear with me) it
went to this firm. ONE of the biggest name in Malaysian architecture.
youd think that being that, its because they came up with something
truly great. but alas, here in Malaysia, you can be ‘one of’ many
things, for a great many reasons. sometimes its valid. sometimes its
stupid. no, the reason for this firms’ name isnt stupid. nor is it
valid. its just a misconception of why it is a big, or rather, a known
name, in the architecture world. dont get me worng though. there are
great minds here. with great ideas. sad thing is, thats where it ends
most of the time. as ideas. why? lets just say its due to external
factors that couldnt be helped. its a bloody crying shame.
finally, i thought of my present job with this firm, and how the enigma
of the whole industry is slowly unfolding right before my squinting
eyes. then i got my answer. not that there really was a question to
begin with. but yeah…its not all fairies and lepricons after all.
just a bigger version of making a cake. that takes a longer time to
bake. and instead of using weighing scales, they use computer
softwares.
ah well. the evolution of this mind continues.
I love you… I love you… I love you
Baby I love you
You are my life
My happiest moments weren’t complete
If you weren’t by my side
You’re my relation
In connection to the sun
With you next to me
There’s no darkness I can’t overcome
You are my raindrop
I am the seed
With you and God, who’s my sunlight
I bloom and grow so beautifully
Baby, I’m so proud
So proud to be your girl
You make the confusion
Go all away
From this cold and mixed up world
I am in love with you
You set me free
I can’t do this thing
Called life without you here with me
Cause I’m Dangerously In Love with you
I’ll never leave
Just keep lovin’ me
The way I love you loving me
And I know you love me
Love me for who I am
Cause years before I became who I am
Baby you were my man
I know it ain’t easy
Easy loving me
I appreciate the love and dedication
From you to me
Later on in my destiny
I see myself having your child
I see myself being your wife
And I see my whole future in your eyes
Thought of all my love for you
sometimes make me wanna cry
Realize all my blessings
I’m grateful
To have you by my side
Every time I see your face
My heart smiles
Every time it feels so good
It hurts sometimes
Created in this world
To love and to hold
To feel
To breathe
To love you
Dangerously in love
Can’t do this thing
I love you , I love you, I love you
I’ll never leave
Just keep on loving me
I’m in love with you
I can not do
I cannot do anything without you in my life
Holding me, kissing me, loving me
Dangerously
I love you
Dangerously in love
