It was almost New York

It was almost, almost New York. People, lights, dances, music and the waiters.

The waiters. You bloody idiots, you had to wear a black and white attire like me, eh?

And I could only applaud on your appetizer, cream of mushroom soup.

But I could gladly say apart from the food... SA and SAS Prom 2010 wasn't so bad. It wasn't glorious until I wished it would happen again (unless it repeated itself in a desirable condition) but it wasn't so horrible until I thought it was a total waste of time.

It was good, though it could have been better.

The mushroom soup and the prom itself.

But I had a good time. Albeit some... inconsistencies and distortions. But that's a story for another time, when I'm ready.

Right now... The Golden Apple, New York. Where? The majestic 6-star hotel of Kuala Lumpur, One World Hotel. They could have served better chow.

The event started late. The general message was everyone had to be in front of the Topaz ballroom exactly at 7.00pm, and no later than 7.45pm or the doors will be closed. But we started at 8.00pm. Pfft, Malaysian timing.

Daniella Sya and Christian Neil Capes were the MCs for the prom. Daniella was okay, but seriously, Christian needed lessons on how to pronounce names. Just because you're half-Singaporean, doesn't mean you have to act like you're from Europe, mate. Nevertheless, they hosted the prom well enough and steered clear of being complete lame-joking deadbeats.

To be honest, the highlight of the prom (other than spending time with your dear friends, awww) was the performances. The rock band which made their music out of the clash of drums and careless strumming was just ear-sickening. Khairul's band, the House Bunnies (house band, what up) were excellent, my congratulations to them for raising their street cred. The other bands were kinda cool too. There was a three-man band with three acoustic guitars playing slow songs for *cough* couples.

My date, everyone, was the ever-lovely Nabeela. Yes, I think she was the only girl who wore a tudung to prom. But she was still pretty.

''Radical, Bob, she looks like Cinderella.'' says Khairul.

''Yeap, Cinderella just converted to Islam, dude.'' was my reply.

The dances were errr... kinda enjoyable I guess. Adrian and Tharini dragged Nabeela and I on the dance floor. Soon we were joined by Maddie and her date, Drakie. We swapped dance partners for a few minutes, Drakie and me.

Man, was that weird AND awkward.

The night continued on with games and photos and so on. When the clock struck 12, the prom ended. Good thing too, coz the now-Muslim Cinderella had to go back. Goodbyes and hugs were exchanged and I already felt some sort of weight pulling my heart down. I wasn't going to see half of the people there in a long time. I wondered if I would remember them when years pass.

Then I mentally slapped myself as I packed my gear. Of course I will.

The Golden Apple, New York was a moderate success folks, and we all sorta enjoyed it. Below are the photo albums on Facebook.

Is It New York??!!
Prom 2010 - The Golden Apple, New York

Thanks for reading folks!

I have something to tell you

The lights were dimmed. The music was loud, but soft. Soothing lyrics flowed from the speakers.

It was on.

Her hand rested on your shoulder, while the other gripped your own in a fashion. Your own hand was on her right hip. Feet sliding effortlessly on the dance floor to the steady rhythm of the music.

You looked into her eyes, and she looked back. Her face in surrounded by a curtain of hair, which reflected the very little laser lights dancing around in your dance with her.

You gulped. Gulped very hard. Then you spoke;

''Uhm... I have something to tell you.''

Blood rushed to your face, and you felt your cheeks grow warm. Heck, she had the same reaction.

''Yes?'' was her timid reply.

...

Silence.

...

And then...

''Uhm... your heel is on my foot.''

PROM WAS AWESOME! FULL REPORT COMING SOON!!!

Hey, You

A lil thank you to the lovely Ms. Madeleine Teh; yes, I am awesome. Take it, sis.

Okay, so what do we have? Ah yes... prom.

So. After... what, a week? A week of getting ready for this gig, decorations, buying ink, fiddling around with strips of aluminium foil... and so on. Hey, it was cool coz Maddie was there, yeah. She even offered her place as the decor's base of operations.

It was like a philharmonic concert there, folks, the brother practices the piano for hours. I got the Nutcracker and other musical pieces replaying in my head all the time now. Wickeddddd.

I watched Tron: Legacy a few days ago. It was awesome, and amazingly awesome. I'm watching the original Tron now. I gotta say... in T:L, the discs battles are waaaaaaayyy better. In Tron... it looked like they were playing catch with glowing Frisbee discs which could slice you. In T:L, these discs could still cut you, but it would cut you in slo-mo.

Yeah. Just like that. Ouch.

But the light cycle scenes in the original are more intense, no doubt. Ah, just watch it folks! Truly a must see this jolly Christmas season!

I have my suit. I have my camera. I have my printer (it's Sarah's actually) and I'm all set to go. Tomorrow morning I'm off to One World hotel, to check out the place for prom one last time. Then maybe register for driving lessons.

Yes, I already went for the theory talk for 5 hours... but haven't paid or registered yet. Whoops.

The talk was nuts. And bull. And balls. What the hell.

Almost there, Madeleine. Almost. Then you can enjoy your holidays. We all can enjoy our holidays.

Merry Christmas and a happy new year to everyone! See ya, folks!

And here we go...

Hey guys! SPM just finished last Wednesday. Well, not for those who are taking extra subjects (moi) but the hard ones (Biology, Physics, Sejarah) practically the mean ones...

They.

Are.

Over.

And so begins the waiting. The three-month anxiety, covered by layers of extreme enjoy-yourselves time, after spending one year or more being hooked to chains of your desk, flirt with your boyfriends and girlfriends (more text messages and calls, oh god, the phone companies are gonna have a field day) and so much more. Well, there are those excited ones starting early in college. Good luck to y'all, coz you know, you make us March-intake goers look lifeless as we just stare at television and poke people on Facebook all day loooooooooooooooooooong.

Naw, seriously. Good luck! Short three week holiday, tho. Heh.

Yes, I am one of those March-intake fellows. I've considered of taking January intake, but looking at the calendar a few times... I just spent the whole year studying (yes, I played class clown in Form 4) and after a break I jump back into studies? Naaaaaah. My Trials results were qualified for a few applications like the one in The One Academy (I've had my eye on Advertising and Graphic Designing for quite some time before I was interested in law) but I was thinking I'd be rushing into things. Why not nature take its course?

I now have three months of... what the hell, I should've taken that application. Damn it!

...
...
...

Just my lil joke, folks. No, I have an internship with The Star for a period of three months starting in January. Yeah, my parents insisted I give journalism a try. I think they disagree (silently) with my decision to enter the field of lawyers, ever since that case of the mutilated cosmetics queen. And why do people make jokes about lawyers?

From How I Met Your Mother;
Marshall: You've just been lawyered.
Barney: Lawsuit-up!!

Lawyers do make a lot of money.

Yes, yes, I heard you say, ''dirty money''.

I'll work with the Attorney-General Chambers, and maybe go for the position of Chief Justice... when I'm 50 or so. Hey, what's wrong with dreaming, right??

But now, ladies and gentlemen, my attention is one one thing... a very anticipated event. Yes, that's what I'm talking about.

Prom. Yeah, Sri Aman and Samad's Prom, themed after New York, New York! Or something, I forgot the whole title thingy on Facebook.

Yes, about prom. There have been certain... distortion in the sound waves of peace. (!) I'm sorry, Physics paper was kinda infectious, it jumps off your cerebellum and into your... (!) whoops, was that a Biology fun fact?

Anyway, prom!

Some people... (the ones who aren't coming) are pissed about it. (Let it be known as Group Some People 1)

Some people... (the ones who organised it) are pissed too, coz the other some people were pissed about it. (Group Some People 2)

I am obliged to pick a group (the second one, sorry, I'm part of the committee) but I won't. Because I like to be a team player and voice out the err... distortions in the sound waves of peace. Man, I'm good.

The prom, without doubt, is flawed. Why? Yes, plausible reasons, so and so, but still, flawed. The group of Some People 1 is right to be angry, prom is an audacious event! Memories are to be created there, friends' company to be enjoyed, precious moments to be looked upon and adored in the future! Perfection is of the utmost importance, and never to be done halfway! Bagai melepaskan batuk di tangga... (!) what the heck, sorry folks. BM paper's over. Sorry. Point is, people who organise prom (Group Some People 2) should have worked harder on it. How dare they. This is prom! Not a half-assed school project for extra-credit!!!

But Group Some People 1. When voicing out, be gentle. Violence or foul-mouthing is never the way. You'll just make the organisers feel bad about it and utterly demoralised. And the prom itself will end in a much more disastrous manner. Alright, the prom has holes, too many holes to be patched up and sewed on to achieve satisfaction, but you have to remember. Group Some People 2 is composed of humans. Very talented humans who want nothing more than the same thing you want: a good time with dear friends for the very last time. They work hard too, as much as we all worked for SPM. Give some credit, if not the smallest piece of gratitude.

There are faults on both sides. Maybe the other weighs more than the next. But there's democracy. Look at Malaysia!

...
...
...

Sorry, bad example. What I mean to say is, criticise if you must! But be gentle! We will work hard for New York, New York to be a memorable event, not just a party with suits and dresses.

And it's still not too late. Do come, those who are not coming. We promise you'll have an enjoyable time.

Till next time, folks!

Broken Pieces

I know SPM is just a few dying days away.

I know I should be studying full time.

But sometimes, I take a break, and stop, and stare into space.

Into nothingness.

I take a moment to look into the past.

I take a moment to look at the broken pieces.

I then remember what made them broken in the first place.

Foolishness.

Good luck for SPM, all.

Smile and Die

I rarely find anything worth blogging about, don't I? Ashes to Flames is basically about feelings, girls, mindless rambling, feelings, girls... and feelings. I mentioned feelings, didn't I? Yes, feelings.

2010 has been different to me. Well, every year is, but then... 2010 felt significantly different. I learned about how complex feelings can be, the depth of feelings, their ever-changing chemistry between people and just how very tiring they can be to normal teenagers like you and me. Sometimes borderline suffering.

I've discovered of how to actually like a person.

Discovered rejection (indirectly, mind you.), and how bloody hell painful it was.

That spike, blasted spike from the pits of the underworld, a piece of Hades' own black soul, just puncturing your heart like a buttering knife slicing a bun...

You get over it.

Weak. Hurt. Bloody. Teared up. You get over it. (yeah, you do.)

I'm alive, aren't I?

So like the opening scenes from Halo: Reach, you pick up your assault rifle after a long day and just walk up that hill to get a face full of sunshine... the new horizon!

And you just see another bloody day coming your way. Horizon's there, but it's dark red and screaming at you. Sure, birds fly and the sun shines, but the heat gets to you, and that deja vu from the previous battle stirs up your insides.

You get ready your gun, but you know, once it's over, it's gonna start all over again. The same hill, the same anticipation for a happy ending... but a different horizon with a new kind of horror. Sometimes you wish you were just dead, and heck with all this.

It's just not worth it.

Or maybe you're detached from all of it? Hide in the shadows, and strike from within the shadows. Like the lone hero from Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, you have nothing to lose and you just work it all until the end. No one's waiting for you once you're done, so just end it all with a jab of that hidden blade.

No one knows, no one cares.

I can't say much. What I have locked in my mind can compromise everything I care for. But I do wish someone can unlock them. Anybody willing to do an extraction from my dreams like Dominic Cobb from Inception?

Then you'll get to see my dreams. Dark, blank, empty and meaningless. Yet under that seemingly plain blanket a sea of storms pulses, sucking in everything that gives me peace and serenity.

I try to make people happy. I try, I really do. And in the end, I get shot in the heart. But I don't care. As long as that person is happy... what can I do?

Smile and die.

xD

*This post has nothing whatsoever to do with anyone real, fiction, or even dead. Not related to anyone. No. Not really.*

*Maybe one.*

Guys in Suits and Girls in Dresses

You know, funny things happen when you wake up from bed one day, crave for a sandwich, look around the kitchen and realise there's no bread, then remember you're supposed to feed the cats because it's half past noon, do a head count for your cats and make sure they don't run off to some neighbour's lawn and get hit by a 4WD--

I'm getting ahead of myself here.

Anyway, back to the bread. After all the chores (that I remembered by far) were done, I went to the 7-11 to get some bread.

For my sandwich.

And because I was to stock up on bread that week. Actually, last week.

So. I entered 7-11, gave the store cashier a hearty wink, and strode around doing business (collect the bread). After carefully reviewing the contents of a chocolate bar and a fizzy drink, with the loaf of bread in my hand, I walked to the counter...

...when this happened.



Yes. Yes. It was like that and more!


And more! (I couldn't remember the third one's face)


Why are all these smokin' hot, ''gun'' (note the inverted commas)-wielding, sexy scorchers inside a small little 7-11in a suburban neighbourhood and I'm just standing there with a ''I'm a Virgin'' t-shirt and banana shorts??

Even the dumb cashier dropped his jaw (I bet his pants too, but I couldn't see because he was behind the counter) and stopped playing his PSP.

I did not know what was happening. Probably a teen gang heading for a friends' wedding? Lost and stopped for a can of soda? I looked outside, expecting to see a Lexus Rexton with a sandy-haired guy and a roguish grin behind the wheel, calling out, ''Come on, girls, we're gonna be late for the wedding!''

Instead I saw a roughly-eight-year-old boy, in the passenger seat, poking his head out the window and half-shouting, ''Kakak, hurry up! Aunty Cei Cei's (I think it was Cei Cei) birthday laaaa!''

And it was a Toyota Wish.

Girl Number Two, which I'd like to nickname the Black Mamba of the East was at the magazine rack. What a fine rack it was. I always picked up my issue of Gempak! there, so I proceeded as so.

She was reading a magazine with a close up of a man in a suit on the cover. My thoughts went to the legendary Barney Stinson of How I Met Your Mother.


I sniggered unconsciously. And the Black Mamba of the East caught me!

''What's so funny?'' she asked, her voice striking the still air and interrupting the God of War sound effects in the cashier's PSP (obviously three un-Earthly beauties did not seem to bother him for long as Kratos's, the front man of God of War, bare chest and abs splattered in monster blood were far more interesting for him).

She talked. To me! I choked. Regained myself. And spoke with careful care.

''Eh... guy in a suit. Funny.''

*loud groan from audience*

What did you expect me to do?

''Hey, dollface, my house just a couple blocks away. What say you and your friends?''

The Black Mamba of the East laughed, and put the magazine away.

''I like guys in suits.'' and she winked. She winked. The Black Mamba of the East winked at me.

And she left. With Girl Number One aka Vienna Jackpot and Girl Number Three aka Faceless Rack and that lucky, lucky, lucky eight-year-old boy, off to Aunt Cei Cei's birthday party, in that white Toyota Wish.

I think she gave a glance at my banana shorts.

I paid for my stuff and left.

Black Mamba of the East... I will find you. One day.

And wink back at you!

Thanks, folks.

This is not a dream sequence. Some elements were obviously exaggerated ( Girl in a bikini walk in a suburban 7-11) but the core of the story is true. There were three hot girls. One of them said ''I like men in suits'' to me. And the wink. And the glance. Well, maybe not the glance. Do not judge me.

Break Free! *RENGEKI!*

I will feel better when I post this up. I am so stressed right now. My results weren't bad, but I'm not happy with them. And that's just Trials. Teachers were sympathetic, and passed me on a couple of subjects.

I so do not need pity. What I need is bloody strength. And the guts to be truthful to myself. To her. To everyone I know.

I will kill SPM ( meaning, just pass it with flying colours ), go to college. Finish studies, and start anew.

I do not want to be grounded. Lemme go free. Gimme my WINGS! Ever heard of the Wings of Liberty? That's what I want!

That's what I need.

And I want love.

And since I'm at it, I won't mind world peace, too.

I'm gonna break free of this, and no, I'm not breaking into a High School Musical number!

No, no, no!

Can I go ''Na, na, na'' instead? Gerard Way kicks ass, and that ass is Zac Efron's.

EFF YOU, STRESS-MITES, IMMA GONNA COUNTERATTACK YOUR MENTAL ATTACKS ON MY BROKEN SOUL!

I need my guitar, so, ciao, folks.

I'm gonna start a comic soon. Check my FB page in a couple of weeks. What's it about? Imagine Scott Pilgrim feat. Green Day in a Malaysian high school setting.

Story of a Hoodie Girl

A quick one before I scoot off to a film festival at the PKNS Tower in PJ with my photographer bud Daniel...

I was on the way home from tuition today. Bloody tiring it was, and it was blistering hot. I've always had the LRT as my mode of transportation. I passed through the terminal with my Touch 'N' Go card, waited, got on, got off and walked home. Never paid attention in the in-betweens, especially in the coach.

But heck, today was different.

A girl with a striped hoodie walked by and took the opposite seat of mine. The caption on her hoodie shirt caught my eye, ''Forget it. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow's a mystery.'' Yeah, cliched, but it got me thinking of my own problems with girls lately. And I stared.

Hair tied back with a bang, just a allowing a strand of hair falling over her face. Lovely brown eyes behind a square-rimmed thin spectacles, and the cutest nose you've ever seen. She was texting a friend at that time, probably, because she had her phone out, and smiled the tiniest of smiles.

It was... just too distracting, that smile.

And she caught me staring. I quickly looked down and pulled out my own phone.

The whole way to my stop we kept stealing glances at each other, always avoiding direct contact. I'm probably imagining the exchange of glances. She did catch me staring at her.

I wanted to say hi. I really did. I wanted to comment on her hoodie shirt.

But I didn't. Got scared. Just got off my stop without a word.

I'm gonna ride the same LRT line next Saturday. See if I can catch her again.

That lil thing you do -- lying -- I can bloody well see it!

I woke up late today. Usually my time's at 5.00am but I got around at 6.15am. Of course, after a quick shower and that treasure hunt for my under-- I mean neck tie, I started the walk from home to school carrying around 15 SPBT textbooks which I was supposed to return (yes, I'm missing two textbooks; don't blame me, I'm only human!).

Then this happened.

''Dude, your class (5C) has its book-returning session tomorrow. Today is 5B's turn.''

See, no one actually told me that.

Well, that out of the way, it turned out to be quite an interesting day. No class, some noobs had their Accounts exams, free period all day. Class-hopping joy, what fun.

''Uh can we borrow Bob for a moment?''

''Sure,'' *raises eyebrow in a very suggestive way* ''what for?''

Ah, and there was that little fight in which I got roped into; some relationship crisis. I didn't ask to be a part of it, I never wanted to, but fate's just mean sometimes, and before you know it, the boyfriend wants to pull my guts out through my nostrils and the girlfriend wants me to be her output for tears.
I was nice, too nice, like someone pointed out, and went along with it.
And this is the part where it got cool. I mean, really cool. Really cool. Let me try that in Italic and Bold. Really cool. Well, in my opinion anyway.

''Is he mad?''

''No, he's not!'' *eyes looking down, nodding while saying otherwise, raised voice pitch*

''You're lying.''

''Look, he is not mad and I am not lying!'' *repitition of statement* ''Look, I thought you wanted to help me!'' *changes subject, classic deflection*

''If you're lying to me, I can't do squat. I need to know what exactly happened.''

*sighs* ''Okay... this--''

Whoa, spoilers there, and there's that confidentiality agreement. I helped the girl out, but she was trying to cheat me by trying to cut me from the whole truth. I got everything out in the end, using that simple technique of just looking into the face. Face-reading, a deception expert would call it.

Deception expert is a real occupation. The science of FACS (Facial Action Coding System) is applied here. Discovered by Dr. Paul Ekman in 1970s, the good doctor theorised that every face that showed emotion, any particular emotion, joy, hate, contempt, surprise; all of these emotions had their own specific features formed by the facial muscles, and it's the same for all humans. Yes, it's universal. If Obama and Clinton had something to hide, they'd have the same look on their faces, eyebrows joined together, upper eyelids raised while lower eyelids tensioned and the muscles around the mouth tightened. The look of fear of that secret to be found out.

Spawned a TV-series too. Season 3 up this October.


I'm not saying I'm as good as that bloke up there, or any of those scientists. But I love learning the technique. True scientist say this is BS, since psychology plays a large part in FACS and psychology has been acknowledged as ''soft science''.

I'd like to think I saved someone's relationship today. But since I did play a part in destabilising that relationship somewhere in the past, I'm too ashamed to say it out loud.

There's another technique in detecting a lie, that is by body movement. The scientists call it ''gestural emblems''. A gestural emblem is something the body does involuntarily because of the loss of synch between mind and body when the person lies. This lost synchronisation however can be overcome if the person is a pathological liar, someone who has full control over his muscles, thus disallowing any involuntary movement.

An example of a gestural emblem is the defensive posture. When a person lies, and the lie is opposed by the listener, the liar will go into a stance called the defensive posture, crossed arms, chest in and usually followed by a few steps back. These movements show the need to reinforce the lie, withdraw and defend. We have President Obama for a demonstration.

Though we can say Obama is just being defensive in this picture; I mean, it is a talk with the opposition.

The involuntary muscle movement on the face is harder to catch, according to deception expert Dr. Ekman since usually the liars are betrayed by their emotions within a 1/5 of a second. A hidden smile, a look of contempt, a flash of fear, or the dilation of the pupils. A quick and sharp eye can catch these looks.

FACS is a lovely thing, don't you think? We really should appreciate Dr. Ekman's work. A deception expert is on my list of careers now.

In the end, emotions betray lies. Philosophic, eh?

The Post-trials One

Ey. This should've been done by Friday, but I was busy. Or lazy. Whichever you prefer, really.

First thing, though. Hui Jan, this won't be about FACS (Facial Action Coding System) no, but something else.

Not really a good start there, isn't it? Well, I'm not sure myself, so let's just call this post the Post-trials One, since everyone seems to be happy about the ''post-'' in the word ''Post-trials''.

Now this blog... I set it up a year or so ago, so I could write about stuff. Type, sorry. Express myself, you know? Being a teenager and all, and expressing yourself verbally in your house doesn't actually help a lot. I mean, your 9-year-old sister can't help you if you're suffering from internal conflict of which even you can't describe specifically yourself, can she?

Thus, the purpose of this blog. Well, it's helped me. I can just bloody well post anything I want here, and no one would care. Well, some people care, but I don't really care about them not caring, or caring otherwise.

I'm on a rant here, I have no idea what I'm saying.

I'm relieved, as most people are, because SPM trials just went through. Can't wait for the results *nervous flinch*.

Lots of stuff happened this past few months. Time as a carefree teenager runs out while that looming 12-gauge pump-action shotgun of responsibility just smirks at you from that corner turn; the same corner turn in which someday you're gonna turn around. You get older, wiser. Well, some, dumber.

Experience adds up over the years, but things never change. That's what they say. But really now?

Never?

Well, I'd say never say never, mate.

I just did say never in that sentence which proposes to avoid usage of the word ''never''. A big loophole in that philosophy, eh? I wonder which idiot came up with that.

I bet you're totally confused now. What the hell am I talking about here exactly?

Well, that's your answer. I'm confused. Emotionally, my mentality and my sense of the future is very, very, screwed up right now. I know what to do. Yes, I know what steps I'll be taking once everything is done during this high-school time. Afterwards and forward, yes, I have the vague outlook of what choices I'll be making.

But I am confused. Because, really, nothing's ever clear is it? Well, no worries, though. I'm gonna find out.

Care to join me?

What Happens Next?

Hey, folks. This is probably the last post before I stay off the Net for two weeks for SPM trials. Need to get this do-hickey off my chest.

Everyone, and I mean everyone has been thinking of what to do after SPM. College, work, and so on. I haven't been thinking much, thanks to my immaturity, and really have been living in the moment. Too much, I would say.

It was these couple of last months that I began to grind on my thoughts of what to do when SPM wraps up and I have the results in my hands.

Before this, I've wanted to take Law. Law sounded good, works good, and pays good as well. It was really all talk with lawyers, because these blood-sucking leeches knew how to play around with words and facts, manipulating people's mind. The truth's still the truth, but if one really mastered Law, he can change the way people look at the truth.

KDU offered a good course. Bachelor's Degree of Law, 2 years in Malaysia and one more in UK, an example of one of the programs.

But there's been a definite increase in people majoring in Law. And because of that, most of them are unemployed. Sure, I'd like a Bachelor's Degree of Law, but if I can't work and earn, what was the frickin' point?

My cousin, who had a degree in Pharmacy and recently returned from Bali in Indonesia, suggested that I take Radiography. Radiography was in the medical field, but it didn't require the course-takers to be excellent in Biology or Chemistry, and it was all memory work. Memorise how the X-ray, CAT scan and MRI machines work and learn to read the results through the medical images.

But I wasn't actually a fan of working in hospitals. Sitting behind a machine and checking a man's insides were a bit lame for me, even if you can boast that you know how to operate an X-ray machine.

So, for now, I've decided on the two-year-six-months Creative Media Design course at KDU. Creative Media Design offers the same basics like Illustration in One Academy, though more computer-software oriented than hand-made. Plus, I can concentrate on improving my skills in photography since it's a subject. I'm still considering for Law, and I even might continue for Law after I have my Creative Media Design diploma. Which probably meant that I'll be done studying in 6-8 years.

My Dad wants me to continue the cycle of the family tradition and take Mass Communications and become a journalist. ''You can become anything if you major in journalism-- it's the jack of all trades!'' says my Dad.

But no. Journalism is something both my parents have done. I want to make a new path for myself. And let's face it. Journalism is the freedom to express through literature. I'd be joining politics in a few years. And that's the last thing I want to do.

Even my class teacher says I'm destined to become a politician.

Well, no. A lawyer-photographer I will become (either one) and a hard-boiled one at that.

See ya folks. Wish me luck for them dreaded test papers.

Dedicated to the late Bunny, Madeleine's Pet Rabbit.

Hi, folks. Sorry for the very late update. I've been sick, then busy, then sick again, and busy yet again, then Raya celebrations were around the corner and I just didn't have enough time.

But I think I have enough time for this.

I was at the train station today. On my way home to KL. When I boarded the train, I got an SMS.

The day turned slightly bleak when I read that message.

Madeleine's pet rabbit, Bunny, died today.

I met Bunny for the first time, at Madeleine's Chinese New Year open house, last year. Cute lil rabbit she was, and I regret that I didn't have my DSLR that time to take a picture of her. She hurt her leg at that time, so she was limping. But Bunny was an adorable little fluffy... well, bunny.

I met her a few more times over this year, and even petted her a bit. If she didn't have that limp, she would've been jumping a lot around Madeleine's house. But she was determined, one night, when she hopped delicately into Madeleine's lowered hands.

Madeleine loved Bunny. She still does. Bunny's been around for eight years, and the photos of her with that rabbit really could move a heartless guy's heart like mine.

It's never easy losing a pet. My cat Lilo died in a car accident a year back. I didn't cry; I even made measly jokes about it at school. But I really did mourn her loss when I'm alone, knowing she'll never brush past my ankles anymore.

Miss ya, Lilo.

The bond between a pet and its owner, something like Madeleine and Bunny, it's not something to be lightly taken of. ''So what, she could get another one,'' Sure. But not all rabbits are the same. Not all pets are the same. One's just special for that one person, and that's what makes the love even... stronger; unique.

I'm sorry for your loss, Madeleine. I really am. Bunny was a great rabbit. She's gone now, but she'll remain as a wonderful memory for us all.

Bunny knows you loved her, Madeleine. She wouldn't blame you because you weren't there when she passed. And knowing you cared and loved her for eight years made it easy for her to pass on. You love her, and she knows that, even though she's gone now. As much as you love her, that's how much she loves you back. That's the most important thing right now.

Bunny, I'm sorry I couldn't get to know you closer. I would've love to have you pose for my DSLR. And for you to meet my cat, Shiro. You would've been the best of friends.

We all miss you. Madeleine the most. Rest in peace, Bunny.

The Emotional Spectrum!

Hi, people! I've been saving up this post for quite a while. It's an intriguing one; not sure if anyone's going to agree with it.

But hey, if I write a blog that's supposed to please everyone that comes across it, I should work for the government.

I was joking, ISA agents. Really. I love our Prime Minister.

Anyway... my topic for today: the Emotional Spectrum.

Oh, I just love topics about emotions, don't I? I am so gay. Not like Edward or Jacob, though, no matter how immortal or how hairy they are, respectively.

So! Recently, I've read this comic book (while I should've been studying) from the DC comics print, a crossover event which involves all the legendary superheroes coming together for a spectacular team-up against a horde of evil enemies (oh, the cliche) entitled Blackest Night.

Blackest Night was an interesting read, praise-worthy artwork and suspense-filled storyline. I'm not going to give this comic book a review, no, we leave that to the critics. No, I want to elaborate on a plot key that was mentioned in the comic.

Very fictional in some cases, but somehow it reflects upon the reality of our daily mundane lives, which is why modern comic books nowadays are so believable.

The plot key: the emotional spectrum!

Now, a brief description of the emotional colour spectrum and how it fits into the story. Screw spoiler alerts, this comic was out for a while. Our story begins when the dead begin to rise thanks to black rings which suddenly fall from the sky. These rings have like an automatic pilot system and seek any dead fellow's ring finger. Once the ring is placed, the dead dude rises, and begins killing the living, via tearing out their hearts and then eating them. This allows the other black rings to wear themselves on the recently deceased, and we have more ring-powered zombies, and the numbers increase, world wide. These dead fellows are known as the Black Lantern Corps.

There are seven other Lantern Corps, and like the Black LC, they have a specific colour which defines their emotion. Black, is of course for the dead. There's the Green Lantern Corps, and the ring-bearers are bona-fide will-powered beings. Will is their strength. Next, we have the Blue Lantern Corps, and they empower hope into other people in times of despair. Needless to say, hope is their greatest weapon. We then have the Indigo Tribe, powered by their feel of compassion. And at the end of one side of the emotional spectrum is the Star Sapphires, and their power is the violet-themed love. Now, we move to the negative side of the spectrum. On the right of the green power of Will is the yellow light of fear. These folks instill fear in other people, so that's their thing. And then we have avarice, greedy beings which use rings powered by orange greed. And on the end, opposite of love, is the red rage of the crimson-coloured anger-management-issues punks, which are so brutal, if they have their hearts ripped out, it won't matter because their Red Lantern rings serve as their new heart to pump all that rage tainted blood.


From the left we have the emotions of Love (violet), Compassion (indigo), Hope (blue), Will (green), Fear (yellow), Avarice (orange), and Rage (red). The Emotional Spectrum of colours.

If you don't notice it, the emotional spectrum is like a meter, which of course varies in your emotions, each of them different with their own colour. Just imagine a needle pointing to either of those rings. It goes without saying, that the emotion of will is the most balanced of all, as it resides right in the middle. Yes, love is a good emotion, but it strays too far from to the left, thus never achieving equilibrium. Compassion's nice too, and so is hope, but none of these matter if you don't have the will for action.

Oh, I'm loving the colour of green.

On the right side of the emotional spectrum, we have the more negative effects of emotions. Fear? Fear is good, shows that you're human and you are afraid of something, but too much fear and no willpower at all, you'll succumb. Ah. Avarice, or greed. Need I mention more? And there's rage! Never a good emotion, even if the situation demands it. I tell you, those Red Lantern freaks in the comic cough up their own blood to drown their enemies. That's just gruesome.

Just another meaningless post. Next to Hui Jan's two Ramadhan-dedicated blogposts (I feel so guilty, and I'm the one fasting here) this post just sucks.

But I had to post it up anyway. Tell me readers. Which Lantern Corps do you belong in?

*Amirul Shakir is in a relationship*

Before you get all ''WHOA~ really?'', no, I am not in a relationship. I'm merely picturing what would happen on Facebook if I were in one, and decided to update my status as so.

So the topic today... a common one I would think, if you stuck around long enough reading my blog; it's about the boy-girl relationship.

Now there are two kinds of the usual boy-girl relationships.

Number One, as friends.

Oh, nice to meet you.

Second one, I think is normal as the first, as lovers.

Take my hand, and I'll take yours... *fluttering butterflies*

Of course, there are others such as brothers and sisters, cousins and whatnot, but today we're gonna focus on these two rather common ones.

Readers, I honestly tell you that I prefer the first one. Yes, you can have one girlfriend at a time, but when it comes to girl-friends (not lovers, no) you can have as much as you can. No attachments, just joking, laughing, smile-sharing people, helping one another out in times of distress. This is the preferable one, especially in dangerous times of high school. When you got friends of the opposite sex, you know you're metro-sexual. So, don't pal around in the same species; go out there and spread some love. (The love of friendship, I mean.)

The second one. Ah. These are dangerous waters, dear readers. If you taken an alternate road on the branch of friends and aiming to be ''more than friends'' you've arrived in the dating-relationship zone. Two people, have the same feelings for each other (what they really feel is entirely another different matter) and decide to stick together to see what happens. Some are successful and continue throughout their lives, while some... well, just ugly. Not being a pessimist here, but ugly boyfriend-girlfriend relationship outcomes are like the signature trademark of high school monkey love.

The basis for the second one is a crush. You start out with a crush, and if you have the guts, you can continue as so and achieve the lovers' status. But this also requires the right time, the right place and most important of all, the right feeling. Of both parties, mind you. You can't add a positive and a negative, you'll get a negative. But if you add a positive with a positive or a negative with a negative... you'll get a positive!

(+) + (+) = (+)
(-) + (-) = (+)

Oh, I love relating these topics with Maths and science. It just makes them tough academic subjects funnier than what our teachers intend it to be.

Oh. One more thing. I'm currently within the first choice, having girls as friends. No idea about the second one. And to you dolts who think I'm with Madeleine Teh, please don't think so. Both of us are in the first type of boy-girl relationship, though it's much crazier. I think I might be something of a gay best friend (yikes). But I have to admit, the ''fling'' with Hui Jan and Jacie prove to be much more crazier than all the other girls I've met.

Like Sean Ding said, ''wah, from Maddie to Jacie to Hui Jan. You certainly are the player this Puasa month,''

Dude. Prepare for a flying kick tomorrow. I did get lighter this past week, you know.

An eye for an eye makes the world go blind...

This is going to be a very serious post. I'll try to be a bit humorous in it, but I doubt I can.

Now, it's the month of Ramadhan, is it not? Time for patience-testing and willpower, and so on.

There's the buka puasa time every evening at 7.30+. It's supposed to be family time, where everyone sits around the table, waiting for the time to come in to break the day-long fast. Then when it's time, we say our prayers and eat, as a family.

I... don't like it. I'd rather eat alone. It's not that I don't appreciate my dad, mom, the sisters and the 13-year-long-in-service maid, but I hate it when we discuss an issue.

Then I see how nasty my family can become.

Today we discussed about Osama bin Laden and his family in Mecca, because my parents just came back from there. Mecca's economy is being ruled by the Laden family, even in Osama's disappearance, due to his wanted status. His family has done a lot of stuff for the people of Mecca. Hosting free buka puasas, donating to local mosques and such.

I respect that much of the Laden family; and Osama as well. But what he did during the 9/11 attacks were too much.

Please just forgive what my mom said.

''The Laden family is taking orders from Osama himself, the States just don't know it. A lot of good he did for the Muslims. I don't blame him for the 9/11 attacks.''

I was shocked. Thousands of people died in those attacks, sons lost their fathers, husbands lost their wives, lovers lost their beloved, and my mom said Osama was right in doing so.

I countered, as politely as possible,

''People are still people. You don't just chuck out a life like that. And we're talking countless of lives here.''

Before my mom could reply, my maid jumped in from the other side of the dinner table.

''Don't judge him on what he did. People may say what they want about Osama bin Laden, but he's still a hero for us (Muslims).''

Screw what she said, I never liked her anyway. I shot,

''Even after all those people died? INNOCENT people? There's blood on his hands! Killing innocents is what Muslims are against as well!''

Dinner turned into a debate when my mom pointed her finger at me and hissed,

''Very well, then how about the people in Gaza? How many innocents died there? Israel, supported by the people of the States, ravaged their homeland, burned their crops, destroyed their houses and murdered their children in cold blood! Osama bin Laden demolished a few buildings while Israel, backed up by the oh-so-just USA raped an entire nation! Amirul, please don't justify on what the Israelis and Americans did, because what Laden did was fair compensation.''

My dad was sighing and at that time I knew I should stop. But not without the final comeback was uttered then I left the table.

''See, mom, the problem with an eye for an eye is, in the end, everyone goes blind.''

I'm so sorry if I don't have that semangat jihad. People are still people. Taking lives just to settle scores is not humane at all.

Mom, I hope your inhumanity was just because of the stress of fasting.

And screw you, maid, I don't care about you.

The 5th Annual Cultural Night

7th of August was the night! The night of all nights (apart from prom, but hey, we don't know anything about that yet,). Readers, it was the 10th Petaling Scout Troop's annual Cultural Night!

For the past few weeks, it had been tiring work, getting permission letters, planning plans for the event, firewood-collecting, and the impressionable decor-art, but in the end, we had everything done before the CN itself.

Okay, to be frank, the starting was a bit slow. After serving the food, people were getting bored. However, performances like Xin You's unorthodox Justin-Bieber-remixed-Baby, made the crowd laugh, and the senior Scout girls' Malaysian dance (thank Tharini for that) scored some strong applaud from the audience.

But the tipping factor was the Dikir Barat. It really got people hyped, and we even had the audience joining us!

That Dikir Barat really works for all events. It even worked during Kem Integrasi.

Anyway, the event was a success, and it was the last of the 2009/2010 COH's duties. From that night on, all the tasks were bestowed upon Chu Szi Wei and his COH of 2010/2011. Good luck, dude!

Below are some pictures. Thanks for reading!

the firelighting part! my thanks to Daniel RS!


Tarian Malaysia, Tharini's proteges!


Dikir Barat, anyone?

''Heartbeat''

Hello. Not a bad day today, despite the week of increasing insanity. Got my Biology exam results, and the marks weren't bad at all.

Highest in class (psst, A-).

First time, you know. Last exam I got a C+. Well, nothing to brag about. But still, I can be happy can't I?

That's surely redemption enough for all those classes I purposely missed.

Anyway.

Today there was a small competition; a poem recital thingy. Teacher informed me last week, but I accidentally (or secara sengaja since I groaned audibly when she told me) forgot about it and didn't come up with any poems at all.

The recital was right after school, at 2.45pm. I remembered about it at 2.00pm.

If you think coming up with a poem is easy, think again. I squeezed my brain of all its juice trying to come with a theme.

Joy, sorrow, food, love, suicidal or politics?

And I just came up something which was dark, but had love as the central theme. Call me mushy, but this got me second place. Not bad at all!

It's called, as the title suggests, ''Heartbeat''.

The stillness and the cold
The frights of which I could not bear
A frustrated and frosted soul
Waiting for non-existent warmth
The light that will never reach me

I need a heartbeat
A surge of oxygenated blood
And let it liberate me from darkness!
Always overwhelming and undermining
The darkness in all our hearts

Let break the glass of illusion!
Unleash pride and glory
And set aside doubt and hatred
And love will be found
Everlasting and ever-binding, love

Love, wings that let the heart soar
Love, a rose that blooms in the heart
Love, an eclipse of the soul

Let love be, and love be a heartbeat.

Note: I was half-asleep when I wrote this. Don't blame me if it's too depressing. I just wanted to get back to sleep.

I'm actually quite proud of it. I mean, second place is better than third place!

And yes, the oxygenated blood was a reference of my Biology marks. Hehe.

Thanks for visiting, and I sincerely apologise for my ego on this post. Bye!

Flamethrowing Final Ride

Well, folks. It's been another crazy week. As SPM Trials closes in, the level of madness in school just increases until you want to bang your head on the nearest metal pole (which I have tried, quite satisfying effect).

I almost lost my certificates, due to parents' intervention in my after-school affairs. Lost my nerve, popped a vein, went into cardiac arrest a couple of times, but I got through. Not alone, no. Got some help from some admirable friends.

Thanks, fellas.

Everything's on borderline fine now, and I have one more event that I need to go through before I put everything, and I mean everything, down.

The 10th Petaling Troop Scouts 5th Annual Cultural Night.

Ooh, I went to the 4th Annual CN, and it was really a fascinating evening. Everything was done by the seniors of 2008/2009, with some minor help from the juniors. Towering gadgets, classy art-by-hand banners, the fiery firelighting gig, and the original performances.

This year, it was the seniors of 2009/2010 turn to orchestrate the event. We're picking up pace in preparing the entire show which will be on the 7th of August.

That's 4 days before the fasting month starts, and 3 days before my Prefect step-down ceremony.

Everything is slowly wrapping up for the Form 5s, eh?

Before you know it, an official SPM question paper will be shoved under our noses by those grim-faced Exam guards.

Bloody SPM-shivers.

Right. I'm not sure whether this is a happy or a sad post. Happy because I'm finally leaving teenage immaturity or sad because I'm stepping out of high school and into the real world?

Oh, those questions never bothered me before.

Always me and my beloved DSLR.

Gah, enough of that! I'm going to enjoy these last two weeks, no one can stop me, I think I deserve it before I submit into chains of revision-slavery, and since I'm in charge of firelighting in Cultural Night, I'm going to make the whole event flammable, so flammable that a miniscule surge of static electricity can cause the detonation of a hydrogen bomb!

Like Amy Holland says it...
~ She's on fire! ~

We'll poke that storm in the eye

I haven't been involved in anything.

I don't have a right to say anything either.

That storm, yeah, that one.

I was lucky because I had my umbrella.

I'm grateful but I watch in sorrow as some of my pals wade through those dangerous waters.

Into the eye of that bloody storm.

Today, one of them said, ''No, I don't think it'll end. It'll only get worse.''

I respectfully disagree, bespectacled midget.

(I do hope I was as vague as I was insulting in that one.)

Yes, that storm will keep going. For the worse. Okay, that part I agree. But it'll never end?

No, no, no.

It will end. It will. You just have to hang on. Shut your ears, close your eyes, and just feel the rain on your face. Let people say what they want to say, it'll die away. But don't you die along with it.

All those lies, half-baked truths, misconceptions and chaos theories are bringing you down.

You're strong, stronger than that. What, half-baked cheese gonna make you sick now?

And if it does bring you down, push you to tears, destroys your well-being... just remember.

You're not alone. You never were, anyway.

I'll be there, he'll be there, she'll be there, everyone will be there and we'll grab your frail hand and pull you out from all that hate and greed and nonsense crap and we'll screw that storm, right in its bloody evil eye.

Hang on, hang on. It'll be over soon, and you'll have a beautiful sunrise and well-deserved peace.

Patience, midget.

What's Her Name Again?

Thought I ran into you down on the street
Then it turned out to only be a dream
I made a point to burn all of the photographs
She went away and I took a different path

I remember the face but I can't recall her name
Now I wonder how whatsername has been.

Seems she disappeared without a trace
Did she ever marry ol' whatsisface?
I made a point to burn all the photographs
She went away and I took a different path

I remember the face but I can't recall her name
Now I wonder how whatsername has been.

Remember, whatever
It seems like forever ago
Remember, whatever
It seems like forever ago

The regrets,
All useless in my head
She's in my head,
I must confess

The regrets,
All useless in my head
She's in my head
So long ago.

And in the darkest night
If my memory serves me right
I'll never turn back time
Forgetting you, but not the time!

---
Well, since everyone else can post up lyrics, why can't I? And there's more to this song than its music. The lyrics just hit you. You know of those songs that you think are written and fleshed out just specially for you?

Well, Whatsername is the song for me.

Special thanks for Green Day for being around and introducing this song to the world.

The Eternal Rose

Hey, hey, hey. Do you guys remember my old blog? Yeah, the pinky-pink one, one that I had to decorate with Barbies because I lost a bet to a certain She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?

Well, do you remember the story I typed out, The Gallant Rose?

I have a new one. It's not a follow-up of the story, no, but rather a spiritual succession to the last one. And yes, it does involve a rose. Thus the title of this blog post.

Tell me what you think, eh? Will The Eternal Rose be better than The Gallant Rose?

This one is dedicated to the fantasy-novel nuts. Read on!

-----The Eternal Rose-----

No one knows how it all truly began. It was a ludicrous illusion, a manifestation of the impaired, a dream.

But everyone knew it was all because of a rose. It was a crimson rose, red as the blood that flows through your veins. Its beauty was of a passionate carving, the hands that made it of excellent craftsmanship. The scent that it puffed out was the smell of agonising lust, dazing those who sniffed it with momentary euphoria.

Down it came from the heavens, answering a little girl's call. Divine spirits blessed the flower as it touched the girl's homeland. Within seconds, just like the flower itself, the land bloomed of green meadows filled with insects, rivers with splashing fishes and frogs, and the sky boasted its blue and the sun's blazing sunlight.

The people of the land, and the girl, called the miracle flower the Eternal Rose.

And for a while, there was joy.

But like every tale of joy, there always must be a small piece of evil.

Evil manifested itself in the form of a black, hideous dragon, its scaly skin as tough as the hide of a mammoth, and its ivory fangs and claws sharp enough to rip out metal. And just like the flower, the dragon came from a wish.

A deformed wish.

The dragon was envious of the Eternal Rose, and hated it with every fibre of its body. So down it swooped onto the Spot of Birth, the place where the Rose was planted, and yanked it out of the ground, with its mighty lashing tail.

The meadows died. Insects shrivelled and entered death. The fishes and frogs danced no more in the polluted river. The skies turned dark and sinister thunder-bearing clouds obscured the sun.

The black dragon laughed, and laughed, as the people cried of their destroyed homeland. It flew away, flexing its wings and causing hurricanes. The leaves of the trees were swept away with tears of despair.

In his dark lair, the dragon prepared for the destruction of the Eternal Rose. Its death will signify the dominance of evil in this realm of reality, something which the black dragon desired most.

And along came a knight in shining armour.

The knight was fully armoured, from head to toe. In his hand hand was a broadsword, its hilt encrusted with precious stones. Symbols of magic and divine spirits were carved onto the sword, and the lights danced upon them.

The black dragon roared, and a great battle began.

The knight struck and struck, but the dragon shimmied and sideswiped, avoiding the edge. Once the dragon opened its mouth and a fireball erupted from its throat. The knight stood his ground and a shield was handled, deflecting the fiery death attack.

The dragon then brought its mace-like tail onto the knight. Again, the shield was used to parry, but the knight was unfortunate this time.

The mace hit his visor, and the knight's face was revealed.

It was not a he, but a she.

It was the little girl who had wished for the Eternal Rose from the divine spirits when her dream was melded into reality.

The black dragon was shocked, and stood dumbfounded, exposing his heart while all this time he guarded it well.

And the knight thrust the blade forward.

The grounds shook, and the lair's ceiling crumbled to bits at the dragon's roar of pain, the sword sticking out of his chest. Blood flowed from the wound, and all the dragon could hear in his last moments was the sound of his fading heartbeat.

The knight took the Eternal Rose, freed the sword, and escaped the lair, as it collapsed, forming the Tomb of the Black Dragon, a perversion of history.

The girl, now without her armour, but plain normal clothes, carefully planted the Eternal Rose in the Spot of Birth.

Cheers erupted, and the beauty which the black dragon stole was returned to the land. Joy, happiness and love, it was all that mattered to the little girl as she whispered to the Eternal Rose.

''I thank thee, Eternal Rose of the heavens.''

------

Hope you readers enjoyed it! Thanks for visiting!

The Best RM1 of My Life

Hey folks. Thought I'd be different today, and try out center-spacing and the Arial font for this post.

Anyway.

So, how many of you has been hit by a car? *leave your comments in the chatbox at the side there, hehe*

Okay, I'm guessing a few readers out there are answering, 'Once, I think.' 'Uhh, not a car, but a truck.' 'Hmm.... does a bicycle count?'

Well, not to make a big deal about it, but I got hit by a car today. Yeah, a gay-blue (cyan, if I'm not mistaken) Proton Saga. Alright, so it's not something to whoop about (though I daresay it's on a higher standard than being hit by a bicycle). And no worries, I wasn't hurt at all.

I bet Ishaq just went 'Aww, dang!' on that one.

No, no. The real reason I wanted to blog about this lil accident of mine was because of the story behind it. Some people might find it idiotic, ridiculous, and quite possibly reckless. But hell, it was as funny as the time Bala exposed his underwear in the Chemistry lab while cleaning the blackboard.

*psst, the colour was grey. Look out, girls.*

So! It was a sunny day, wind was blowing, bird were chirping, and I could hear all the happy voices from the old folks' home across the street (''Nurse, why does my napkin smell funny?'' ''Sir, that's your underwear.'') I was walking home, back from 7-11 with a paper in my hand and I was looking forward to getting home because Iron Man was on HBO HD later that time.

Maybe it was fate, maybe it was a sending, I don't know, when I realised a crisp one Ringgit note on the bitumen-laid ground.

Common sense would have left it alone. Bob Shakir's sense, however, was a different thing.

Though there was money on the ground, I took the necessary procedure of crossing the road, just like what it said in the big book of scouting. Look left, look right, and then look both ways again. And Amirul Shakir went and crossed the road.

I should have just crossed and snatched the money from the road.

But no. Either it was stupidity or common sense, I stayed in the middle of the road and checked to see if the bill was the real deal. Well, I thought the road was empty.

I thought wrong, because five seconds later, a speeding Saga burst from a junction and headed my way. Of course, I didn't see it. I was busy examining the Agong's face on the bill. The driver of the Saga didn't bother to honk before he hit me either.

Have no fear, folks, because I was lucky.

The driver did see me nanoseconds before he hit me and slammed on the breaks. However, thanks to inertia, which in turn is supported by Mr. Ng, our school physics teacher (good teacher, *ehem*) it didn't stop the car's bumper from hitting my right shin.

There was that instant impact and shock, which was nothing actually, but I did like throw myself over the car's hood. And when the car stopped, the honk blaring as the Saga driver pressed his hand on the honk everlastingly, the pain came.

But it was nothing much. I was on my butt seconds later. The driver frantically climbed out.

I thought I was gonna get the usual ''You idiot! Who told you to stand in the middle of the road like a flag pole (do flag poles stand in the middle of the road?) like an idiot?? Who's gonna pay for the dent--''

Yeah, that's what I thought, when this old, bespectacled Chinese guy who looked incredibly like Mr. Ng except for the head full of white-grey hair came out of the Saga. Again, an illusion of an angry driver popped into my head, but this time, in Mr. Ng's image. ''Itulah, stand in the middle of the road. Berdosa tau, nanti mati pergi neraka--''

But instead.

Saga Driver: OH MY GOD!! ARE YOU OKAY?!

Me: Yeah, I'm not hurt bad...

Saga Driver: YOU SURE?! DO YOU NEED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL?!? OH MY GOD!!

Me: No, I'm pretty sure I'm okay... just a small scratch is all...

Saga Driver: WHERE DO YOU LIVE?! DO YOU NEED A RIDE HOME?! OH MY GOD!!

Me: Oh, it's okay, I just live right over there--

Saga Driver: COME!! I TAKE YOU THERE!! OH MY GOD!!

And despite the multiple 'No's that came out of my mouth, I was dragged into the Saga, while the driver kept exclaiming ''OH MY GOD!!'' over and over.

So I got home. Thanked the fellow. I think he said, ''You're welcome, I'm so sorry, OH MY GOD!!''. He was a cool guy. Panicked a bit, but at least he didn't mind the dent in the bumper that I caused.

I didn't tell my parents about it. Nah, they'll worry. I checked and I'm pretty sure it's just a swelling on my shin. By the time I typed this out, the swelling's gone down. The pain's still there, and I limp a bit, but it should be gone by Tuesday. Just in time for football in PJK.

And in the end, there's that crisp, off-the-road, accident-inducing, worthy, lucky, fateful, destiny-locked, RM1 in my wallet.

Really, the best buck of my life.

Thanks for visiting!

The Atomic Gang War: Sometimes, People are Stupid

I am so gonna get killed for putting this up. Some might call me hypocritical.

But, I do have freedom of speech. So members of any current gang wars in any particular schools; screw you.

I might be exaggerating when I say gang war, but when I look at it, it certainly does look like a gang war.

Two sides, two armies, two conflicting interests, and the climatic showdown which usually ends up in tears. And no, not tears of victory. There's also the occasional third party which reinforces the rules of the environment, which is the no violence rule, but usually they get ignored. In this case, the prefects.

So, readers, let's begin the psycho-analysis for these meaningless gang wars!

It usually begins with one group, society, an entity, one might call it. Now, like the bonds of solid matter, the chains that holds the society together are tight. But like Chemistry as well, external forces can eliminate those bonds, no matter how strong they are.

So an outside force says hello to this entity, and like all then-perfect relationships, atoms within the society form cracks, and finally break off from each other.

And now we have two atoms of the same entity. Usually one will be stronger than the other, and the stronger one will be dominant.

Eventually, the much weaker atom will soon disintergrate into nothingness, due to the stronger atom's heavy pounding, who, in its own course, rallied other atoms to its own personal cause.

You follow? No? Oh well.

Once upon a time, there were two best friends. Now, these two were the best of best friends and nothing could break them apart. Or so they thought. One day, someone with high sex appeal came over and said hi. One thing led to another, and there was a fight.

Soon, there were armies, and the two sides fought for eternities and scorched the earth. In the end, no one could tell that the particular battlefield they fought on had once been the birthplace of a beautiful friendship.

No, I'm not indicating anyone. I've heard too much, I've seen too much, and I could guess what will happen next.

But I won't take sides. That would be stupid. Nor would I join the third party to uphold the authority's rules and regulations.

All I'm saying... is that all of you are being stupid. I'm sorry, I know, there are faults and wrongs somewhere, and there might be only one guilty party, but honestly, it takes two to start a war. Three to make it chaotic.

There's also the idiots signing up for it. What the heck, you morons?! WHY do you want to stand out there and watch it? You think it's a frickin' free show? You want to cheer on for them? You fools like feeding off people's despair?!

You like seeing people cry?!

I understand the ones who felt the need to stand up for the friends, especially for the weaker atom. Being good friends are what you are. But the ones who just walk by and then suddenly go... '' Ooh! I wanna join! I'll take that side!'' Eff off, you stupid, stupid, idiotic, dumbfucks.

If you want to participate, how about you relay the truth, the exact truth, to everyone who doesn't know. Let those clueless ones know that's it's a big misunderstanding, words were said, hearts were broken, but it's on its way to be healed.

It's all just a misunderstanding. People said this, people said that, and something happened. But just know it'll be okay; don't worry about it.

C'mon la. Does a feud have to continue until one of the other falls down? Does the other end have to die of defeat and forever be silenced, then everything will be all right? Where's the good old-fashioned ethics of friendship and trust?

Is sorry so hard to be said? To be meant? To repair something that's damaged, and that damaged object was something you use to treasure. Now, you throw it away like a bottle of bad coke.

How about forgive and forget? You'd forgo that for search and destroy, I'd say.

We have to learn that people make mistakes, and that's inevitable. Sometimes that's just a test for us, to see if we can forgive ourselves, others, and say sorry to those we hurt.

I've said enough, I think. Wouldn't help anyone anyway.

I hope everything will end in a good way.

No more tears, please.

The Last of the Malaysian Girls

You have no idea of how many hours I stared at this blank box, thinking of something to type about. Seriously. So many things happened these past few days, yet I've no inclination to elaborate about those events, except that they were quite uncomfortable.

Enough of that, now! So instead of brainstorming for another couple of years, I've decided to blog about these girls. No, they're not the Last of the Malaysian Girls, but they're certainly brilliant, funny and pretty, and no, the last part wasn't bullshit. Well. Maybe for Hui Jan. I'm JOKING!

And please excuse the title, I'm so hooked up on Green Day's the Last of the American Girls. Have you seen the music video? Oh, you should. Finger-pointing-explosive melody, that one.

So, readers, let's begin with Girl Number One!

Hui Jan / Jan / Boss (as I call her)

Yes, that's Hui Jan. Don't mess with her fellas; she's the Discipline Officer I in our school, and man, she packs a mean can of whoop-ass. Her smile is as nasty as her roar. Ha-ha, I'm joking. No, Hui Jan is actually a cool girl. She's one of the few girls I know who shares my liking towards Green Day. Though she loves these punk-rockers from the marijuana-induced band, she's also smart. Damn smart. If you read her blog, you know she's an avid player of Scrabble. Have you seen her play? I did. I play Scrabble too, and thought I was good at it. That's until I saw Hui Jan play... my playing skills were like child's play compared to Hui Jan's. She plays like a Titan from Greek mythology. No, it's not exaggeration, you fools! Another thing about her, you can see the fine line that divides Hui Jan into funny mode and serious mode. She's ferocious and mean when time demands it, and she's understanding and kind when the situation is light. You have to respect someone with that rare ability. I can't be serious. I'm too immature. Thumbs up, Boss!

All right, let's move on to Girl Number Two!

Jacie Tan Cheng Hwee / Slit-Eyed Japanese Girl (she looked like one during Citrawarna, with all that spiky hair. Mind you, they were really spikes with the amount of gel that was used.)

She's the girl on the left, readers. One word before I begin about her; crazy. Don't get me wrong; it's the fun and good type of crazy! She gets even crazier when she's with her crew! Don't get me started on her group of friends. But you can't be angry about that! I mean, yeah, they once hijacked my DSLR; got pretty pissed about that, but then I laughed when I saw the pictures they took. Do you wanna be angry when you see a picture of girls posing their butts in front of the camera? Fully clothed, I repeat, fully clothed. I laughed until my lungs collapsed, and then deleted the picture. I'm pretty sure my mom wouldn't be happy with that kind of picture in my DSLR. Yeah, that's Jacie. Crazy reader too. Right now she's going on and on about a book called Fire and seduced (I wonder if this is the proper term) Xin You to read it. He loved it too, and he said it was about the girls (that's understandable) and the humour in Fire that makes it a good book. She's as fun as she's crazy, and among all these girls, she makes me laugh the hardest. Though I never really admitted that to her. She's the kind of girl who can raise your spirits too. When you're feeling down, this girl will slap you and say, ''Buck the f*ck up, idiot!'' Well, she never actually did that, but the energy's there. That's what I think of you, Jacie. Awesome and another thumbs up!

Hello, here's Girl Number Three!

Yap Ee Leng / Mada / ''T'' (her favourite letter on MSN)

One of my best buds. That's Ee Leng, and yeah, she's cool. No, no, not ''cool'', but cool. Note the Italic usage. Yeah, and whenever I'm blur on Chinese culture, she sits down with me and explains about that particular matter. De facto points. She's like my own Wikipedia. I'm a fan of anime, and this girl is too! There was a time when we used to swap stories and once, both of us got hooked on this show, Code Geass. Have you finish watching it yet, Ee Leng? She also introduced to me the fantastic sea-plant, the abalone. Before that, I thought abalone was some sort of fish. And I still am shocked such a small plant costs a lot. Ee Leng's a great listener as well, and with the next girl I'm about to type about, they're the best pair of pals that's around. We really need to go to an anime exhibit sometime, Mada. Don't worry, tickets are on me! And of course, you get a thumbs up!

Ehem. Step up, Girl Number Four.

Madeleine / Maddie / Mad / Mom (she really does act like it, sometimes)

Last girl, but of course, not the least! That's Maddie Tsl, and boy, she's hot! Fellas (boys, esp) she's available. Wooh! Anyway, this girl is like my sister. Really. Sometimes my mom. ''You look like a drug dealer with that hoodie!'' ''But I like hoodies, Mo-- I mean, Mad!'' ''We need to get you new clothes.'' In the end, she bought me a ''I'm a Virgin'' T-shirt for my birthday. When teamed up with Ee Leng, like I said before, they're the best at looking out for me. They even forced me to have my own birthday party! Not that I resent it, gosh, I loved it! Being another of my best buddies, she's awesome at art. A couple of days she's been working off her-- erm, let's just say energy-- to finish her batik for her arts project. She says it's not proper and looks off, but heck, me and Ee Leng said it looks awesome. Stylish. Ee Leng even admitted that it looked like a fashionable mango, but then again, she was hungry at that time. Like Ee Leng too, Maddie is a good listener. Gives good advice as well. That's why sometimes I call her ''Onee-Chan!'' which is Japanese for ''Big Sister''! Though without doubt, I am bigger than her. Great Big Sister though. And that certainly earns her a thumbs up!

So. These are but the few of the girls in my life. There are others, and one more I'd like to type about, but I'm gonna leave that to rest. Quit raising eyebrows, I know what you're thinking. If you don't, just nod as if you do.

I have to repeat myself that these girls are brilliant, funny and pretty. Yes, Hui Jan included. Excellent friends, what a person like me would hope for. If you're raising your eyebrows again, I do have guys as friends also. But I'm gonna save that for another post.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is truly the Last of the Malaysian Girls!

She puts her make-up on
Like graffiti on the walls of the heartland
She's got a little book
Of conspiracies right in her hand
She is paranoid
Endangered species, heading into extinction
She is one of a kind
She's the Last of the American-- err, I mean-- Malaysian Girls!

Thanks for visiting, folks!