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!

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...
...

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!

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.

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.

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! ~

The Prologue

A couple of hours before Puan Maha's farewell party. To those who are clueless, Puan Maha is my school's discipline teacher. And the prefectorial board teacher advisor.

And to those clueless people, yes, I am a prefect. Unbelievable eh?

I was chatting with an old friend the other day. And when I told her I was on the right side of the law (sort of) as opposed to my days in Perak, she went;

'That's amazing! I mean, you used to diss them!'

To which I happily replied...

'Well, if you can't beat em, join em!''

Which all brings back memories of my days as a newbie in the very, very different SMK Sultan Abdul Samad. For one, the prefects are quite... how to say.... brutal face first. Well, prefects at my old school were brutal too, but somehow SMK Sultan Abdul Samad's prefects are more like organized-brutal.

''If the student has touched or in any way assaulted you, you may punch him in the face OR kick him in the balls. Executing both counter-attacks may result in your suspension from the Prefectorial Board.''

Well, they don't have that in the rule book, but if they did, I'd be pretty happy. But more or less, it's like that.

So the real question is... how did I come from hating prefects... to love being one of them? Was it the suit? The power? The less-restricting leash of school rules we have on us? (personally, I like the uniform. Blazers are hot. Hot, I tell you.)

What could I say? I signed up when they were recruiting newbies for a joke. For a joke. And then I saw the whole structure of the prefects. The way they were intergrated into the school, the amount of just power they exert on the students and the automatic image you receive from school faculty by just being a prefect. And I was starstruck.

So I worked my ass off as a junior recruit. Wasn't easy. But it was worth it.

Then after almost year serving under the lawkeepers' organisation, I saw the grittier, darker and more seclusive nature of the prefects. The way you have to turn and twist and that almost impossible-to-resist itch to join in school politics. That image you received of being a golden role model... you have to uphold it because anyone could break it down even after a small misstep.

But hey, no one said being a prefect was easy. And everyone who knows me will know how I deal with such stuff. Joke around the situation. Student enraged and wants to beat your ass after school? No problem. ''Can we reschedule? I got prefects meeting.'' Superior blaming you for doing something wrong? ''Sorry, I'll try harder next time. By the way, I saw how you *insert an embarassing incident in which your superior was involved* and I'd like to help you with it...''

That's how I deal with it and though it has some minor setbacks in the past, I've gotten through it with sheer-- no, not willpower, but rather wit power.

I've been a prefect for almost two years now. Tiring, yes. Looking forward to retirement? Yes. Not going to miss prefectship? No. I am going to miss it. Yes, sounds lame, but being a prefect has made me a better person. And look how much friends in law enforcement I've made.

It's farewell to Puan Maha and retirement for the Form 5 prefects in a few more weeks. Bye for now!

Bobby Blues

Sorry. I dunno why I said that. So sudden, so out of the blue. So... well, not to say spontaneous. But then again I don't know who to say sorry to.

I got nothing to blog about, actually. And this is sure as hell not a retarded version of Blues' Clues, so no worries.

I've never actually believed in the blues. I mean, what? ''Hey man, what's up?'' ''Oh hi, oh nothing much, just feeling blue,'' ''what the f*ck, is that some sort of disease?''

Oh, ignorant me.

Yeah, once I knew what the blues were, I didn't believe crap out of it. It's not actually feeling sad, and it's not actually feeling like those emo-goths, but the blues were kind of a stand-alone term.

Well, now that I've been infected with such, I came to believe it. I dunno why. There I was, eating a cracker, and whoosh, it came down like rain on me. And the annoying thing is I don't know why I'm feeling so damn blue.

Funny thing is blue is a different meaning with the Brits. ''Oh, feeling blue,'' ''Oh my god, you watch pornography, you bloody fool!'' Oh yeah, I love the way they talk. OK, I'm not gonna go deeper on porno in the UK.

Then I have those self-analysis kind of tests, you know. Asking myself questions in my head. It's like your very own psychiatrist within your consciousness. ''How are we today?'' ''Oh good, good. Can't wait for our session to begin.'' ''Oh and by the way, you left the toilet seat open, Mom's not gonna be happy about that.''

Gosh, what's wrong with me? Lame jokes, man. Lame!

Ehem. Anyway. Started with one question: anything bothering you?

Why, yes.

Do you know why?

No, and if I do, I won't be here talking to myself.

Do you have the smallest of clues of why you are experiencing the blues?

Erm. Sort of. But not sure.

And why so?

Because this is the part where you come in and tell me if I'm right or wrong.

Ah. Care to elaborate your suspicions first?

Well... I think it's girls. But I dunno if that's believable. I mean, I've never had trouble with 'em before...

Until now.

Right. Until now.

Precisely.

So what now?

See, this is why self-psychiatric help is free. Because it only helps you identify the problem. The rest... well, the rest is up to you, dear fellow.

Okay. That was really helpful. Really. But why do you talk with a British accent?

I'm gonna spare details. What goes on in my mind is possibly very disturbing for some. So I've been having those kind of sessions with myself almost everyday. And it ends up with the same thing.

Don't you get it, man? GIRLS! Good grief, get a hold of yourself and do SOMETHING about it!

Well, I was pretty smart to know that it didn't mean I had to go online and check those kind of websites...

So what was it? What was my problem with girls? I don't hate them. No, I admire them. Especially the hot ones. If I weren't lazy, I'd include a picture of me jiggling my eyebrow in a most suggestive way right here.

I don't think they hate me. Do they? I get along fine with them. Always kept my dirty jokes in line with them. Maybe some girls harbor some hatred towards me in a spiritual way? And my spiritual antenna is picking up the backlash of that hate while they hide it behind their faces.

Because let's face it, when girls say something, they mean something else different entirely. It's not like guys. When they say something, they actually mean that. I know you've probably heard of it, but let's just hit that refresh button on the window toolbar...

Guy: I'm gonna watch football.
Real meaning: I'm gonna watch football.

Girl: I prefer to shop at Versace's than Levi's...
Real meaning: Screw Levi's. I wanna shop at Versace's. NOW.

But one thing about girls, well they know how to break someone down gently. While guys can be extremely blunt and hurt someone's feelings, girls can do it gently. I admit girls can do that.

Why the heck am I getting off topic?

Wait. I don't have a topic to begin with anyway.

Maybe I'm being paranoid. I am quite paranoid. But that doesn't justify this, this... blue feeling. Gah.

The conclusion I can come up with from this meaningless rant... after several pointless hours of thinking and more hours of more pointless thinking... when I could've done the dishes, send my prefect blazer to the dry-clean shop or put down the toilet seat...

It all spirals out of control and all down onto my own messed up feelings which I'm relating in a this somehow-very-gay post. I can imagine Ishaq saying, ''Talking about feelings now, are we? Nice. Very gay. Very you.'' Well, just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon...

Is it because of the girl I like? I mean... I've liked her for a long time already. I dated with this hot chick from Perak to get over her. And it didn't actually work out. Broke off after a month. Maybe because long-distance-relationships don't work and because when I'm with that girl, I keep thinking of another face. Boy, Perak girl must hate my guts now.

I'm sorry Perak girl. I won't say your name to protect your interests. I don't want your friends going like, ''Oh, so that's your loser of an ex-boyfriend. Girl, you suck. Why pick a prick like him?''

And to protect my interests too. I don't want your big-bodied brother (I shit you not on that)
coming to my doorstep on a sunny Sunday afternoon with a crowbar and a gang of angry Mexican cholos carrying around Uzi submachine guns.

Anyway, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to use you as a smokescreen, that was so of an asshole of me. I don't think you can stop hating my guts, but just know I am sincerely sorry about it. KL guys ain't that reliable, you know... not actually boyfriend material.

And to that girl I like... well, you'd probably hate my guts too if you knew I was liking you. You're a great girl and I was lucky to know you. No, I'm not gonna reveal names here. That would destroy me somehow and though this girl doesn't have connections with Mexican cholos, I'd really like to bury this one with me.

I really hope I can somehow forget it and move on. And goodness help me, get these blues off me. Get the f... never mind. See ya.