Know Now

To feel selfish, to be selfish, and to be venerated and revered by fools who choose to surround, choose to respect, to be kind, a friend.

There will never come a time when she awakes from her dazed enchantment to realise that it is, after all, not worth her while. She has had too many past disillusionments to be letting go of this one gleaming, shiny piece of what is seemingly to her, beauty.

Rooting to this spot, saying yes and no, because no one, not even her, can impose force, it is already proven and known.

What might be unforeseen, is that the other side dabbles in human behavior as well. Not like that will pose as a predicament, seeing that true love is slightly or approximately 6400 kilometres or a phone call away. Not a problem.

Unassuming Sam

Not much is known about Sam. They think they know him.

He spends his day at work, enjoying cheap perks such as the occasional hot babe of the day award, which, we shall assume, is judged, rated, and ranked in that little space in between his ears and at the back of his eye balls. The rankings change as each day goes by. Or so we assume. Sam retires from work at the end of the day and retreats to a small dinner and then the confines of his humid room. End of yet another mediocrity. Which beckons for the next. And the next. Or so we assume.

Simplicity.
Brevity.
Sam.

Until one fateful day. That fateful day. A flurry of emotions. Chitchat torrents. Warm, cosy silence. Suddenly he felt that maybe, they're letting him in. They're letting him belong. He feels belonged.

Perhaps not much is known to Sam.

RIP Yasmin Ahmad

This post is written with pure dedication and tribute to the one who has deeply moved and inspired me throughout my teenage years with all the touching PETRONAS Merdeka, Chinese New Year, Raya, and Deepavali Ads - some which made my eyes well up with tears - and her words and ideals. The director of Sepet and other great Malaysian movies (Rabun, Gubra, etc.) - a liberal Malaysian, consistent with the Malaysian spirit and theme in efforts of uniting Malaysia in all her works surpassing that of a film maker or producer. One of the few Malaysians whom I look up to.

1958 - 2009

How much tragedy can one contain? In about a month we witnessed the death of Michael Jackson, Walter Cronkite, etc; the Jakarta bombings, not to forget the Swine Flu pandemic, and now, Yasmin Ahmad.

Today isn't a good day at all. Disappointments liberally strewn and to think that she passed while I was probably driving home alone on the Federal Highway thinking of how pathetic my life is after losing 4 rounds at pool, multiple rounds at Bishi Bashi, failing to redeem my Clinique goodie bags, missing out on grabbing tickets to Public Enemies, forsaking dinner and the money that I paid cause the food was shite, and chugging beer alone to replace missing Bubba. And upon reaching home and switching on the PC while contemplating on appearing offline on both MSN and Facebook so as to avoid 'publicly' appearing as a loser for being home, alone on a Saturday night, this news.

I had to blog about this. I just had to. Prose and cohesiveness aside. Inferiority aside.

I am sad, and I mourn, not only for the fact that Malaysia has lost such an important figure who plays a role in its film and advertising industry, but also for her efforts in encouraging by showing and eventually embedding in us what Bangsa Malaysia means. Forgive me for sounding a tad foolish but I have always wanted to meet her in person. This is how much she means to me though my existence might not be known to her. RIP.

Of such colloquial deluge

So two nights ago I was lying in bed reading the latest book I've managed to get my hands and eyes on and my mind too when I totally snoozed in the midst of the part where the judge was so irritated by Bose and I was deeply ensconced in the notion of how beautiful Desai's writing is though it does get boring but I know it's boring to me only because I have to read it ever so slowly to let the imagery sink in and I never believed in speed reading anyway to begin with and so this brings us back to two nights ago when I abruptly fell into that abysmal stupor and left the lights open and the rest was all only known to the unconscious mind and then that dream started out as a dream I could still remember vividly about that pool among the trees in the crimson setting of the setting sun as those airborne rainbow-like droplets gracefully but hurriedly left his fingertips and landed onto the surface forming alphabets to my name oh such amorous expressions can only be dreamt and thats what dreams are for but unmistakeably the dream stretched itself out into a nightmare about her always lurking in the backdrop assuming the role of utter jealousy and come to think of it it was her whom I've never even talked to but despised from afar during those high school days only because I have always known that she's a slart so anyway she was there lurking again during a merrily-lit sophisticated dinner that of profound postures and bows and plushness and she had the CHEEK to come up and take my wine glass on the table which had sparkly water and not luscious wine in it and said something along the lines of "look at me" in hopes of me looking up at her but I didn't and she went on and splashed the contents at me anyway and I was so pissed I bet I was sleep-cursing with furrowed eyebrows yes the one I always seem to have on but most of the time it's not irritation but just basal structure so yes before she was about to leave after that atrocity I grabbed her by her arm and gave her a piece of my mind before that hamagad slap to her disgustingly pustular face and I woke up at 5 in such anger that I immediately told myself off about how waking up angry is not the way to go so I went back to sleep and resumed the day only to fall asleep relatively early again the next night and this time I woke up at 4 and my eyes were WIDE OPEN in the dark and although there weren't any dreams this time but I couldn't help but to wonder why I keep waking up at those odd hours and it pissed me off that the alarm clock gets to take a holiday and didn't serve its purpose in waking me up and allowing me to push the snooze button you know how much pleasure one gets from pushing the snooze button argh so irritated!

So yeah, can anybody explain this trouble sleeping scenario dilemma to me?

Stop Shoot

Did you fall in love with these videos like I did? ♥

2sen

Just make sure that you're feeling good! very soon, it'll be over, you'll be free!

The "underdogs" rarely get credit, BUT, you are the only one that can defend the rationale behind it all.

You'll be fineeee sweetness. Just make sure you keep your head on straight and if you need to vent or talk, call an amigo :)

If you feel they're raping you of your creativity, do as much as you can and take a break, then come back to it.
But don't give up
Keep at it, keep working at it and better yet don't lose any motivation you have.

Remember you've spent 3 years or more working your butt off in uni learning about this so put it to some practical use. Comprende?

I can sense the passion you have in this field, if not you wouldn't be complaining about it. But just if you need to let off some steam just do it.

aint nobawdy gawna judge

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Such words. Deeply appreciated. Thankies coco.

I have yet to play a game of chess with myself. Assuming the role of one opponent as I detach myself from the other for each turn. It'll be nais.

Now, how about making music from raindrops?

Spoilers and revelations

Ignoring the latest heartbreak ever to mar my already broken life, I shall ramble about the little nothings that didn't fail to perk it up. All of us have one or two...or three or more.

This has been innocently sitting at bookstores, successfully begging for my attention, for I was not attracted to any of its companions, as though I am meant to read it.

I devoured it in two nights (Oh what am I going to do now, run to the bookstore again?) and although I have yet to form any concrete review about it, I have to admit - it was a brilliantly crafted read. Trust the Man Bookers yo, I am officially in love with Pi and Balram. I enjoy the twistedness of it all, for happy endings never quite satisfy me, I must confess. Never a dull page. Though reviewers may compare it to matters of a grander societal/economic/blahblah magnitude, all this book to me was just this: I love the cynicism and how hate and love is, ironically, basal in everything. That is true though many of us fail to come to terms with it. It tells of hard-earned (ha!) success and proves again how fortune does favour the brave. This munna doesn't give a damn about being a badass. Kill your employer and condemn all your family and maybe you might just end up like the white tiger. I imagined-understood in this little space in between my ears that this chandelier fanatic also owes his success to what may seem - to me - like his epiphanies and observations. Philosophies? I admire him for that. And his wit, oh his wit is what I'd like to own! Letters to Mr. Jiabao. Daring (thus sardonic) ones. If only...

Life is peculiar as such. Sometimes I wonder if it is all luck and fate entwined. There are those who strive like this Balram here but never succeeded. But we all know that's lazy talk.

I don't.

Have a good day and omg it's only Tuesday...but then again what do I have to look forward to in the weekends? She who is seemingly suffering from mid-life crisis? What a fucking joke.

Austie Swan

Her fingers flowed with grace and unerring ease as she worked that chestnut of a grand. Tsatsa, of all people.
'Austie Swan,' she said.
I remember those intricate wordings etched onto that facade almost perfectly in gold.
'The best there is. Crunchy yet delicate. Come duet with me and see what I mean.'

Duets. It has been so long since a duet. Two pairs of hands synchronized in a way of cosmic understanding. I have yet to fathom that. But it sounded all the more magical and perhaps it is matters like this that do not require much understanding. Oh the gladness and smiles. Do we have to know everything to live this life? Do we need meaning? Do we need this clear conscience as guidance? What is guidance anyway and why do we bestow so much faith in guidance? Some might say God and religion but I do not want to digress...

Is it even right to voice this out in public? I don't know. I don't know much anymore to begin with. For all I know is that I'm just desperately grasping for something in the dark, still, after all these years. This morning came at me quite like a bucket of cold water splashed onto the face of a sleeper. Unprovoked. Innocent. Intrusive..offensive.

Forcing me to open my eyes and...wake up. Perhaps, actions need be taken to save one's self from all this injustice that is uncalled for. Being aware of the hardships and risks that follow only makes it all the more painful. But they say fortune favours the brave so let me get paid. I did not expect those hurtful words to be hurled at me from such a figure that is popularly tantamount to that of benevolence and unconditional love. My life thus far may be pockmarked with potholes but bear in mind, you were the biggest of them all. Need I say more?

July-ly-ly

Helloooo it's Friday!

Heh. Working has transformed me into an eager, thankful person as the weekend approaches. And given me less dark circles and more fat. meh.

Drove to work in the company of Jamiroquai today and it was nothing at all but pleasant. Anyhoo, without much further ado, since I have nothing much to say today and I do not want to speak too soon about the things I would want to say, check out these photos shot at the Bahamas. I'm intrigued by the feelings that are stirred in me as I look at them. It makes me dream beautiful things.

More here by Elena Kalis.

Also and btw, Koop is awesome baybeee!

Finaly, I knew this song is worth any happy amazing video. Loves.

Have a pleasant day ya'll.
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