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!