THREE INFINITY

Sheets of Rain

2012-01-02T05:18:00.000-08:00

First time I’ve lived in a high-rise apartment. First time I’ve truly observed it raining. From way up here, you can see what it really looks like.

It comes in ‘sheets’, a smooth uniformly shifting ‘curtain’ travelling at about 80km/h (eyeballed speed, as I compared with the cars passing by). Like someone steadily pouring a bucket of water across the terrain from way up above.

There are also occasional ‘pillars’, roughly cylindrical heavenly ‘columns’ of heavier showers moving in a straight determined path, also at around 80km/h.

I could never really observe this phenomenon when I was living as a ‘bottom-dweller’. Getting wet in the rain just seemed like there were occasional ‘slaps’ of heavier rain alternating with lighter ones. Only now do I see what was really going on.

It’s hard to put into words what I really saw. It was surreal. Like infinitely tall ghosts shifting across the land. It was beautiful. Have to see it for yourself to see what I saw.

Like giant spires and grey concrete mountain blocks in the horizon underneath a huge bucket of rain

Am compelled to praise the Powers behind this. SubhanAllah. (That’s the way I’d say it, I guess.)

Yeah, I get kinda ‘spiritual’ in moments like these. Maybe I’m wired to feel that way, I don’t know. There aren’t many things in life that make me “happy” (whatever that’s supposed to mean). This kind of experience, spiritual epiphany, would be one of the very few occasions when I do feel “happy,” fulfilled. I know I do not fit the ‘stereotype’ or embodiment of a particular “group” of people, who follow a certain set of teachings, (nor am I considered one by some of their so-called members anyway, sadly?) but only God knows how I feel in moments like these.

There are many out there, many friends, who do not feel the ‘God’ element in here, and do not believe in such things anyway. Some may be put off by seeing how ‘God’ is suddenly dragged into this simple prose about rain. Some may even go as far as call people like me “ignorant,” “psychotic,” “delusional” just because I see and feel the World differently, and/or that I do not share their views on it. (Definitions of ‘psychosis’ or ‘mental disorders’ undergo paradigm shifts as well – “trends” so to speak – what it is at the moment, what it was in the past, and what it won’t be in the future.)

Some may even justify that because of this ‘lack’ of “happiness” I desperately seek out a ‘God’ to give myself the sense of fulfilment like the one I just mentioned up there. To them, this is merely the science of nature, weather, air currents, meteorology, and so on. Maybe they’re just not wired to feel spiritual, or maybe they are but just not wired to feel ‘God’. Sure, call me what you want for being wired this way, but hey this isn’t an atheist bashing session, nor am I an atheist basher. And this isn’t a preaching session either, and I’m not much of a preacher as well. (And ‘mental disorders’ is a whole different debate altogether. Some other time maybe.)

Sure my thoughts can drift. Didn’t mean for it to happen. I just wanted to talk about the rain. And how it made me feel today.

Love? Really?

2011-11-08T01:44:00.000-08:00

The age-old question: What is love? So cliché yet persistent throughout the times. Too many blog posts and articles with that title. Too many voices asking and never getting any real answers. Why bother asking in the first place?

Maybe the better question would be: Is it really ‘love’?

Just as atheists question the notion of a Supreme Being on the basis that Its existence can’t be proven, while men of Faith are absolutely sure It does on the basis of Faith itself (and the fact that you can’t disprove with absolutely certainty that It truly does not exist either), some of us like to question whether such a thing as “love” truly does exist.

In the movie Contact (based on Carl Sagan’s book), there is this one scene that stuck to me since the first time I saw it: when the priest dude asks Jodie Foster’s (atheist) character “Do you love your father?” and she answers, “Yes,” and then he asks her again to “Prove it” – whoa! That really hit me! (It got Jodie’s character dumbfounded too.)

But after years of being a ‘universal observer’ to other people’s misery (as well as my own not-so-lovely experience, especially of the after-effects, of this “love” phenomena-illusion thing) I’ve come to believe that love, in the end, is in fact food for the ego – narcissism, self-love, having someone else around to acknowledge that you exist, that you are so damn important, that you are actually “appreciated” by and bring meaning to that other person’s life thus saving your own ego – it’s all about you, you, YOU! – pathetic selfish needs to be fulfilled by creating the illusion that you are doing something for someone else, when in fact you are only serving (saving?) yourself. Lying to the self much?

Oh yes, I’ve figured it out now. And hereby present the formula:

“LOVE” = DEFENSE MECHANISM

For the selfish needs of the self and the ego…

(Don’t you just hate it when Freud is right again!)

It’s definitely not the whole unconditional-selfless-willing-to-die-for-the-other-person fantasy-escapism-myth like some crappy grenade song. Maybe those things did exist before, but now they’re just dinosaurs. Extinct. (Or dragons. Mythical.) Heck maybe never really were there in the first place – just like T-Rex never really was a “predator” to begin with, as some schools of thought have claimed to discover (scavenger theory).

So what is this feeling that you’re feeling? (Again, cliché!) Ever heard of endorphins? Hormones? Chemicals in your brain and your blood that make you feel and behave the way you do? Yeah, blame it on the hardware, buddy. And if it helps, here are a few more links that explain the chemical-(drug!)-induced illusion you think is “love”:

Is Love Just an Illusion? by Maura Kelly of Marie-Claire Magazine

Optical Illusions and the Illusion of Love by Susana Martinez-Conde and Stephen Macknik of Scientific American Magazine

Romance is an Illusion by Carl Zimmer of TIME Magazine

And for those who prefer something ‘less dire, more satire’, What Is Love and Is It Love or Limerence? by Peyton Farquhar of the blog Prattle On, Boyo

So the next time you find yourself “in love”, do not hesitate to ask yourself “Really?”

And roll your eyes in the process – it helps to clear your head.

[Propaganda corner: If you’re still stuck figuring out the WHAT part of this “love” thing, I probably shouldn’t bother to mention the WHY. Marketing, business, mega-corporations, mind-control, slavery, covert hypnotism just to name a few…]

Stupid People: Thin Line Between Entertainment and Endurance

2011-01-17T18:38:00.000-08:00

(a.k.a. “Some People Are Born Simply to Annoy You” pt II)

Stupid people: for your entertainment? Or endurance?

I have to admit, sometimes we like to keep them around (either in our social networking “friend” list, or real life – the latter being much harder to cope with in the long run) to let them make fools of themselves, you know, like circus clowns that we sometimes “need” in our lives, to fulfill our innermost sadistic desires of watching the other publicly humiliate themselves, sometimes even take part in shaming them, either directly or indirectly.

I often take the indirect path, being “mean” as I have so been labeled (or should I say “cursed”?) to be – my favourite example: fool makes (bigger) fool of herself. Clap your hands cheering on for the fool for her awesomely idiotic display of folly, encourage her to do more, make her think she’s doing something wonderful, while the rest of the world can clearly see what’s really going on there. Again, some will find this entertaining, while the rest will have to endure the torture to their moral conscience. The objective here is: the show must go on.

Exceptions are made for the douchebag. He obviously lacks the brainpower to comprehend the indirect approach or any form of outright sarcasm. The objective(s) in his case would be:
(1) to make him GET IT,
(2) to make him STOP AT ALL COSTS!!!!

STUPIDITY: Quitters never win, and winners never quit. But those who never quit AND never win are idiots. – despair.com

(See what I mean by The Thin Line Between Entertainment and Endurance?)

But after some time, the endurance part doesn’t just apply to douchebags anymore. ALL kinds and subcategories of stupid people start to get on your nerves. Testing your limits. Turning the tables on you – converting you from the sadist to the one enduring the torture – of having to put up with such stupidity – without your consent.

Stupid people seriously affect your mental/emotional health – they cause depression (yes, now you know) – when you look around you, and ask God “WHY???”
Couldn’t the World have been a much better place without them?
Why have I been cast amongst the stupid, to endure their stupidity every single day?
Why are You punishing me like this?
What did I do to deserve this torture?
Why have You forsaken me???

But (apart from the sin of questioning God’s Will in such ill and ungrateful ways) I suppose we must accept that everything has a reason – entertainment, population/power control, maintaining equilibrium in the Universe (or was that chaos?)

And then there’s anger. Pure outrage. Born out of sheer annoyance beyond our endurance limits.
“WHY ARE THEY STILL HERE?!” and worse:
“WHY ARE THEY TAKING OVER?!!!!”

It’s needless to mention how stupidity affects your cognitive skills.
Or worse… how it can be dominant hereditary trait.
To be passed down from bimbo to dumbo.

Or rather… a hereditary DISEASE.
A global pandemic.
And how it can be dangerously contagious.

God… they’re multiplying rapidly.

They’re there for your entertainment.
Then for your endurance.
And finally, your endangerment.
God forbid… your extinction.

If I MUST Explain Myself... (/ep. 2)

2010-12-14T17:20:00.000-08:00

...or why I'm so damn difficult ["Why I Have Such A Terrible Personality" ep. 2], then my zodiac profile should explain it all.

No, I'm not one of those folks desperately trying to fit into any particular/prescribed profile ---(in fact, I'm the type you can't force/mold into your image of me)--- but it's not my fault or doing that what's described in your typical Aquarius personality/profile just so HAPPENS to describe (or rather, EXPLAIN) myself perfectly.

Let these links and snippets do the narcissistic talking, since I'm feeling too lazy to yap today:

Aquarius Horoscope Personality: "...one of the most impersonal and detached, yet Aquarius has a deep care and concern for humanity... can be chaotic and unpredictable, stubborn and rebellious, cranky and perverse... a sign which can be totally dedicated to being unconventional, whilst remaining stuck in a rigid, unrecognized pattern..."

Aquarius Personality Profile: "...love conspiracy theories, speculating as to what various people might be doing behind the scenes and how this affects large groups of people... tend to come up with a variety of unusual solutions to the world’s problems, which range from brilliant innovations to crackpot schemes..."

Aquarius Personality Traits: "likes fame, themselves, privacy, eccentricity... dislikes emotion, show-offs, taken for granted, being 'pinned down'..."

Likes and Dislikes of an Aquarius Personality: "...a breakthrough species, who are trendsetters for the feminine gender..."

Aquarius Characteristics and Profile: "The Aquarius motto could be Einstein's "Great spirits have often encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds"..."

Geez... it's tiresome having to constantly explain myself when I'm not in the full-blown narcissistic mood.

Some people are born simply to ANNOY you

2010-11-24T16:57:00.000-08:00

Profanity warning
(Do I still need to warn you about this?)

Some people are born simply to annoy you. Some things exist in this Universe simply to infuriate you. Some events occur simply to anger you. And sometimes, nothing really happens, simply to ENRAGE you beyond all logic and reason.

If I had a Bowie and an Uzi in my hands right now, I'd be the most dangerous Black Ops Elite in the field. What would make me so dangerous at a time like this?
Indiscrimination.
Cold blood.
Boiling rage.

But life isn't a PlayStation® game... sadly. We cannot really go around murdering everyone and everything that pisses our sorry bloody heads off. That'd make us the plain sick fucko I'm sounding like right now. No, all we can do is write about it. Voice it out. Without acting on it.

And who, or what, am I referring to? Nothing in particular, yet everything, and anything that gets in my way in this mental state:

Wannabes.

Copycats.

Stupid people.

Retards.

Barney the purple demon paedophile who should just be blasted back into extinction.

Wannabes.

Homophobes.

Homicidal maniacs. (Oh wait, that's me!)

Trolls.

"Rashes" and other Facebook suckers.

Wannabes.

Sluts.

Whores (including PETA whores).

Religious extremists.

Miley Cyrus.

Wannabes.

Twilight.

Twilight moms who don't realize their age.

People who don't see the "DO NOT DISTURB!" sign.

Overly persuasive people.

Wannabes.

"Friends" who abuse your friendship.

Backstabbers who are asking to get their throats slit.

People who just can't leave you alone when you've specifically warned them to.

People who are asking for it.

Wannabes.

Epic failures.

Cheaters.

Noobs.

Wannabes

*NEW* [updated]

Kids. You know which ones I mean. And I'm not (just) talking about their age.

Uncivilized people who can't wait for others to get off the elevator before barging in like unherded pigs.

People who cause unnecessary traffic jams. Yes, you who have absolutely no fucking reason to slow down when the road incident doesn't fucking involve you. Don't give me the fucking excuse you think it might be someone you know. The look I caught on your painfully ugly faces showed more amusement than actual concern.

People behind you who honk at you when you're stopping at a red light. I don't need your idiotic justification that there are no cars in sight. I'm not getting my plate number recorded on CCTV for your offense.

People behind you who honk at you when you're not making the exit from the junction &/or into the roundabout. Because it's me who could be bludgeoned to death by oncoming cars if I make the wrong call. Not you.

Slow drivers on the fast lane.

Impatient maniacs on the slow lane.

Slow &/or astonishingly terrible service at an eat-in when you're still paying the 10% service charge.

People who don't read your "INFO", "Description" or "Disclaimer", and then make terribly stupid assumptions... AND THEN attempt to convince you how fucking interested they are in you. That's just plain insulting. Because they must think you're REALLY stupid to believe such bullshit when clearly they don't even bother to read about you.
Or, in the case of those trying to lash out at you... THEY must be really eager to prove to you how stupid they really are.

People who lash out at you because they think this post is specifically about them, when it's not!
Really. You're not the ONLY person on my social networking list. Don't give yourself too much credit to think you deserve such attention.
(Or maybe, it just so bothers you that I'm not even bothering with you, when you are. Awwwww.)

(In other words) attention-deficit attentionwhores.

People who don't activate brain before mouth. At all!

People who tell you to shut up on your blog/Wall.
Once again: People who either personally, by private message/e-mail, or comment function, complain about, &/or ask you to stop (or not "publicize") your OWN blog/Wall-post, where it's your every right to say what you want... and I presume this is after they enter your blog/Wall (at their own risk, as informed) to read what you wrote, and comment on it.

People who ask you to "mind your own business" after they read your blog/Wall. Again, see the irony?

But what's even worse:
People who don't even read something before commenting on it.
Or "liking" it.
(See "Stupid people.")

Did I mention wannabes?

It's a wonder how extreme anger (born out of utmost annoyance) numbs all logic and complex thought processes. I'm pretty sure there's more to this infinite list. Just can't really think of anything beyond what's bothering me at this very instant ---
anything that gets in my way.

Feel free to add your 2 cents to the list. And don't get verbally murdered in the process.

[Re]BORN

2010-10-08T20:05:00.000-07:00

(Profanity warning)
It's been a terrible shitty homicidal psychotic aggravating excruciating week. And to top it off, certain asshole douchebags have to exist on this planet to consume our oxygen and spew more shit into this pre-apocalyptic environment.

But, being me (really starting to suspect some form of bipolar disorder here)... I once again managed to slingshot my way into the opposite trajectory, coming out of this in a manic rebound, and through the magic of sublimation, ended up (re)generating some bizarre (almost schizophrenic) ideas:
"Are You For Real,
or Just Another Alice?"
[Click to follow link. Duh~]

I am not on the floor... I AM the floor

Yeah, ranting again. Put it to writing and managed to get it published as a guest post on the entertainingly informative and highly satirical blog Prattle On, Boyo. Enjoy~

Inspiration in Action

2010-08-17T22:21:00.000-07:00

Title says it all. Or maybe it should've been "Acknowledgment". Because I'm gonna be thanking a number of people here, mini-Oscar-receiving-speech style (OK I give myself too much credit, as if I've achieved something really big):

Lena Toporikova of The Colors Magazine, who inspired me to get over my fear (read: childhood incident, plagiarism, my essay stolen by so-called 'best friend' a.k.a. b*tch in disguise) and venture into publishing my works online. For free :)

Aniket Thakkar of Flash Fiction, for the lovely virtual playground he provided for aspiring writers (like moi) to experiment with their works... a place where I've published this short story of mine...

And of course, Peyton Farquhar of Prattle On, Boyo, the first domino that set this whole chain-link/reaction in motion to the point where it presently is, as well as for all those entertainingly insightful posts :)

And last but not least, my very supportive friends who constantly give me the encouragement I need to keep pushing. Aye Zee of My Eyes, you've always been there, babe. And just being there helps a lot :)

Now why am I suddenly feeling all Halle Berry J.K. Rowling today? Because I just 'published' my 'first' serial short fiction recently on Aniket's Flash Fiction blog/site (a free online flash fiction site). It's called Celestial Lessons 001: Black Hole Or Shining Star?

Keep checking back to my posts on the site for updates, or new posts on this 'series'.
(My Celestial Lessons stories are standalone flash fiction on their own, but since they involve the same characters, I guess they can be called a 'series'.)
Many heartfelt thanks to the abovenamed people who had, directly or indirectly, set the wheels of Fate in motion, to get me to 'start' writing online. (Yeah, a lot of quotation marks used. Because I've been doing this, writing thing, for quite some time, but only now have I found the courage to share them.)

So yeah, thank you, infinity :)

Just another phase… I hope

2010-07-04T23:48:00.000-07:00

This building is a trap. Or it’s just me feeling trapped in this building that looks like a trap, feels like a trap, and sometimes even smells like a trap.

The blood is getting messy.

My migraine is bursting out of the left side of my skull. Tap, tap, tapping on my left eyeball from the inside. Why won’t it just pop out of its socket and get it over with?

In the end I’ve decided, as always, that it’s best I just stay away from everyone and everything until this messy blood clears up at least. Isolation. (Temporary, I always hope.) Shut myself out. Up. Or down.

Because whenever interaction takes place in this current state, I always end up messing it up. Doing something only to find out I should be doing the other. Saying one thing only to have it thought of as meaning another. Attempting to correct myself by saying nothing more only to have them think I don’t even bother. Then finally apologizing only to find out the irreversible damage has already taken place.

That’s where logical reasoning resulting in future planning always points to the best possible measure in my case: avoid at all costs. Avoid it in the first place. Prevent it from ever taking place. Next time. Can’t fix what’s done, but always better prepared for the next time. If there is a next time, that is.

Damn this vile blood.

It’s not just blood. It’s much deeper, thicker than what it seems.

Damn this headthrob. Yes, it’s headthrob in my case. No it’s not a typo. I have no heart anyway. Not one that’s beating, not today. Not in the next 6 days probably.

I’m a walking – no, sitting – undead zombie in a tomb of a traplike building – no, it’s not a tomb – prison, yes – tombs have tenants finally resting in peace – I’m not in that state.

It’s not just the building. Foundations dig deeper towards the core.

Schedules, deadlines, forms, policies, regulations, fake smiles and handshakes to try to get something done. At least to get it right once and for all. The only ways out are through, around or the opposite direction altogether. Latter not an option. Former two have their cons and not many pros.

It’s not just the bureaucracy. The redundant unwritten holds more than one can handle.

But for now, I remain in this trap. Undead. Mechanical. Numb. Because it’s no point feeling anything – that just rubs salt to the unanaesthetized wound. (Wound??? Wow, when did that get there?) And it’s no point wasting any attention to the Devil perched on the left shoulder who’s constantly asking everyone to end it quickly, to take the “easy” way out – yeah, right! Nothing is easy. It was never easy in life. What makes you think I’d believe it’ll be easier in death, or afterwards?

But I hope I can come back from the dead like always. Maybe not entirely back to life. But hey, something is better than nothing.

ALL RIGHT DISCONNECT ALREADY!! *pulls the plug*

Why I Have Such A Terrible Personality, ep. 1

2010-06-14T02:07:00.000-07:00

The first impression leaves a lasting one. Circumstances shape the outcomes that create this first impression. And reinforcement strengthens, spreads and maintains that initial damage to your reputation from ever healing.

OK I’ll try to make this as conversational as possible. Conversational meaning, trying to be as nice as the laws of physics will allow me to be, avoiding big words as much as explanatory simplicity will allow, and being the least bitchy as much as my inhibitions can keep up with the effort.

If you were expecting a clinical neuropsychology thesis, you may redirect away from this page now before I suck you into my lowly layman story, which probably violates all the story-telling techniques and formats that English literature had taught us in school. It goes like this:

Relative W walks in. Mom serves them diabetes-inducing drinks or cholesterol-laden meals. As I casually head for the stairs to supposedly attend to some urgent business upstairs regardless of how empty my bowels are in actual fact, Relative W’s motion sensors suddenly train their spotlight on me. Busted.

“Oh by the way, T, why aren’t you working as a {insert-profession-here}?” Spotlight asks.

I sigh. Then begin my soon-to-be-routine explanation about how I finished (“wasted” would appeal to them more) those years in university and finally obtained the degree with much difficulty; how I never really had a passion for the job it was preparing me for (sounds nicer than “despise” and less future-ruining than “fell out of love with”); how I appreciated the knowledge it had provided me with (this part mostly for the politician role I occasionally need to play); and how my love/interest lies elsewhere, but couldn’t pursue it due to… circumstances at that time (sounds nicer than “I was forced into it by the ‘Superior Authority’” and “my results qualified me for it, so taking up anything else was out of the question as far as this ‘Superior Authority’ was concerned”); and finally, how I’m (hopefully) going to get to chase after my true love this time, now that the deal with the ‘Superior Authority’ was completed (I got the degree).

That’s one long explanation. Exhausting if needed repeating.

Relative W, with a dismissingly I’m-so-disappointed-you’re-such-a-failure-how-dare-you-let-down-your-Superior-Authority-like-this-after-all-that-they’ve-done-for-you frown, says, “You should’ve been a {insert-profession-here}.”

I should’ve been talking to a wall.

Another day, Relative X walks in. Superior Authority serves them the usual disease-causing provisions. I lay on the couch, looking as terrible as I do during those migraine days.

“What’s wrong with T?” Relative X asks in a rather accusing get-up-you-lazy-bum-show-some-respect-to-your-relatives kinda way, rather than a caring concerned way. Not that I’m some attention-deficit-sympathy-seeking victim-role-player anyway.

Thankfully, Mom offers, “She’s got a bad migraine. She can’t really move/talk/see/hear properly when she’s having those bad ones.”

Unconvinced, Relative X goes on, “Migraine? Oh you mean those harmless headache things?” then turns to me with their blaring loudspeaker voice (distorted perception happens during migraines to some people, in case you didn’t know that) “Come on, T, a little headache and you’re bedridden? How the heck are you supposed to be a {insert-profession-here} when a harmless little headache turns you into such a baby?”

OK. I heard that. That hand that covered my eyes twitches.

Mom detects this trigger-finger gesture. Being Superior Authority, she steps in to prevent a large-scale war, “Oh she’s not serving as a {insert-profession-here}. She’s changing to {insert-true-love’s-name-here}.”

“{insert-true-love’s-name-here}??! What do you mean {insert-true-love’s-name-here}?” Distorted Loudspeaker blares. “Why don’t you just go ahead and be a {insert-profession-here} for God’s sake?!”

Painfully I get up.

Oh look, she’s alive, that lazy bum, Relative X’s facial expression gives away.

Non-verbally forewarned by Superior Authority, I put my best effort to repeat that super-long political-diplomat explanation {scroll up to longest paragraph to find it}, though this time the edited cut is slightly shorter.

And then I figure again I should’ve been talking to a wall.

As in the local Sarawakian-Malay dialect, the saying goes: Kentut pun salah, sik kentut pun salah.
[Crudely literally translated: You’re wrong when you fart, you’re still wrong when you don’t fart. Replace gas-expulsion term with “breathe” for better effect.]

For the next 5 relatives/neighbours/family friends, the same story follows. Like a bad pointless nightmare where the same horridly meaningless event agonizingly keeps repeating itself for years on end, even though in the Realm of the Awake, the whole thing happened over a few minutes.

By the 7^th time I’m already beyond… irritated (nicer word for “pissed”).

By the 150^th time – more precisely the 150^th time for me, but only the first time for them – you can imagine how a lot of people came to believe I’m a horribly rude “emo” from the instant conclusion they derived from such a full-impact first impression.

And then the word of mouth goes around. At the same time the subsequent (past-150^th) times my reactions either get worse, unenthusiastic, flat, or totally-not-interested-hence-unfriendly-non-conversational… thus facilitating and reinforcing the belief that the word of mouth has already spread.

End of episode 1. That’s right. No intro, no proper plot development, no closing, no moral-of-the-story. An abrupt end. Probably no sequel or prequel either, but heck I’ll call it “episode 1” anyway because it’s my story, like it or not.

~My futile efforts to continuously justify my shortcomings. Maybe I should just walk away, if that was ever possible~

Silent Night

2010-06-01T10:13:00.000-07:00

Been quite some time since my last post. Will try to put bitch mode on temporary hold and adopt a more thoughtful reflective tone for this one. I said I’ll try.

Nice weather tonight... gloomy red night skies and foreboding black clouds, the calm before the storm, subtle spooky breezes giving away the slightest hints of such, like a scene from Tolkien’s dark realm of Mordor (calm version, if that ever exists), surreal, supernatural... and a treetop silhouette that looks very much like a Nazgûl just outside my bedroom window. Ahh, these are nights that resonate with my current mood.

I’m sure you’re quite aware by now exactly what sort of mood/mode I’m in at this time of the month.

The calm before the storm. The unsettling unrest brewing in silence.

Another PMS-inspired post.

All I need now is a big fiery eye to watch over me and/or send me not-so-secret messages through dreams.

The night is cooler than others before it. (But it’s still a freakin 29°C!)

The clouds are shifting. A dark army of cumulonimbus approaches from the northwest. The Nazgûl silhouette sways lightly, as if bending forward to take a closer look at me, through my open window. Solid black shadow against a starless red night sky.

Man, I can almost hear it whisper: “We are watching...”

The recent odd behaviour of Mother Nature – continuous extreme heat, agitating humidity in the dusty air, no rain for weeks, spontaneous lightning discharges from relatively clear skies on scorching sunny days – toys with my seasonally-deranged mind, that indeed a dark force is at work. (Or the Elves are slacking off again.) And by tonight, they will unleash their brewing army, like a mad torrent of Orcs and Wraiths, to scourge these lands with the very element it lacks and needs.

(Great. First the heat wave and drought. Then... a flood. A freakin FLOOD! Just what this place needs. Ironic, isn’t it?)

It’s quite strange, more like a wonder, how this silent night coincides with and reflects my own current physiological state. The apparent calm – with its brewing menace, until it becomes uncontainable – before the blood purge. The ticking time-bomb. The bitch becoming quiet, until she suddenly starts to bite.

Yes, indeed, the night is silent, for now, save for the occasionally stirring breeze and the swaying Wraith-scout.

“We are watching...”

Yeah, I’m watching too... watching out for the flash floods, that is, if the storm does hit tonight. Something to do since I can’t sleep anyway. Not with this silent unrest in here.

If anyone actually misses my bitching, no worries. If my calculations are correct, by next week I will find something/someone to randomly ruthlessly bitch about until Mortal Kombat Fatality is achieved. :)

*UPDATE* In conjunction with my solemn pre-PMS-blowout mood, I thought I'd try some 'semi-serious' writing, so I submitted this piece "Rotten Apples and Sour Grapes" as a guest post on the blog Prattle On, Boyo. Thanks, Prattle, for publishing it.

The Thick Line Between Vanity and Serious Retardation

2010-01-28T03:08:00.000-08:00

OMG it must be inspiration week! I’ve never made TWO blog entries in one week! My PMS must be full-blown raging manic Hell havoc...

So anyway, I wanna thank Aza and Daszz for inspiring me to create this post...

Aza: because of what happened to you and your friend, i.e. a real-life encounter with a retard who insults the term “vanity”...

Daszz: because of your genius comebacks to such ‘environmental hazards’...

So here’s the story, from Aza. Some guy who thinks he’s supercool opens his big mouth and tells these girls “AWAK RUGI TAK BERKAWAN NGAN SAYA” [trans. “Your loss for not being ‘friends’ with me”]

(He probably got dissed by the girls in the first place. And THAT was his comeback. Pathetic.)

Aza’s reaction (internal monologue): “eeeeeee... please lah.. g lah carik org yg desperate nak kwn ngan awak.. x ku heran x berkawan ngan kau eh..” [trans. “eewww... puh-lease... go find someone desperate enough to be your friend... I’d be least bothered to be that...”]

And I came to know about this (a bit too late, missed out on the action, damn!)... the result:

“THREE’s Guidelines to Anti-Tackle Blowfish Retard Jerkoffs”:

Answer: “Kau x bayar gaji aku. Apa aku rugi?!” [trans. “What ‘loss’?! It’s not like you’re paying my salary.”]

Add on: “Reverse psychology don't work on me, creep! YOU're the one who desperately wants to hang out with me. *Sebab kalo you bkwn dgn I, saham you naik. Masalahnya saham I yg turun. So, sorry, dude. I do NOT wanna be seen around you.” [*trans. “Because if you hang out with me, your ‘stocks’ are raised. The problem is, mine plunges.”]

And then: “It’s OK, I got my own money.”

Furthermore: “I got my own social circle too. And it's big enough already. So you see, *I tak rugi apa2 pun.” [*trans. “I don’t lose anything.”]

Adding to the twist: “Buy a mirror please. You obviously never seen one.”

And a load of: “Bukan pasal muka ko x hensem... itu blh dimaafkan. (Kecacatan kelahiran itu di luar kuasa kau, bukannya salah ko.) TAPI perangai cacat RETARD tu agak susah sikit ku nk tahan. Hey, I'm not malaikat. Aku nie manusia gak. Ada byk kejadian alam yg ku xleh terima... and you are one of them!” [trans. “It’s not about your unhandsomely looks... that can be forgiven. (Congenital malformations are not within your control, so it’s not your fault.) BUT that RETARD personality is kinda difficult to tolerate. Hey, I’m no angel. I’m only human. There are only so many occurrences/phenomena/incidents in this world that I just cannot stand... and you are one of them!”]

And the climax of the show, the wise teachings of Dr. Daszz: "Don't bother looking at me because... I don't know youuuuuu~"

Oh but wait... the anticlimax... and it gets meaner: "Which idiot taught you to talk like that? Your mother or your father?"

OOPS... yeaah that's mean, but one's actions reflect their parental upbringing. If you don't want your parents to be called idiots (especially if they’re already six feet under), DON’T ACT LIKE ONE.

WOWWWWW talk about PMS inspiration! I should so write a book about this!!

Enjoyed this? A similar post can be found here: The Thick Line Between Vanity and Stupidity

More posts about the retarded species, and how to deal with them: Bob and Frank... it’s not just me. The rest of the world hates you too.

Bob and Frank... it’s not just me. The rest of the world hates you too.

2010-01-27T04:37:00.000-08:00

A simple guideline for dealing with the Bob-and-Frank species.

Bob and Frank. These two a$$holes must be long-lost brothers of some kind. Same pig snout. Same pig attitude.

Annoying. Perverts. Hazardous to your social status and career. And sanity.

Much worse than Dr. OCD or Mr. Napoleon or even the great Pak Sauk himself. OR all of them combined.

Bob and Frank, if you have the nerve to ask “Why’d you bother lying to us? If you didn’t wanna give us a lift in your car, just say so! Didn’t have to go make up that s#it about your dead aunt’s wedding party...” – I’d just have to say “You know one of the reasons why people lie? To save their own skin. That includes reputation. See, I didn’t wanna look like such an obvious evil b!tch in front of everyone else because I need to maintain my public image. But since you already knew I was lying, and that I am such an evil b!tch, why bother asking the question in the first place, eh?” Get the message, for God’s sake!

And since you already know I must really despise you, want absolutely nothing to do with you, and wish you never existed so the rest of the world can live in peace... I guess I don’t have to pretend to be good in front of you anymore.

But wait! Bob and Frank do not completely realize the extent of my repulsion towards them. Like OMG talk about being oblivious! Delusional is more like it, since they actually believe the world can accept demented retards like them.

The main reason for this is this: that there are too many ‘nice’ people out there. Encouraging them. People who are too ‘kind’ and ‘sympathetic’ to be straightforward and honest with Bob and Frank. People who think that dropping subtle hints will eventually get the message across. Reality check: subtle hints don’t work on retards. They just don’t have the capacity to process such complex social phenomena. You’d literally have to hit them on the head to get them to understand.

No, I found out the hard way that Bob and Frank are two people you have to be completely ‘honest’ with. Never even think of being ‘nice’ to them. They’ll just take it wrongly (and don’t forget: they’re ultimate pervs).

If they ask/hint for a ride in your car, just say “Can’t.” No sorrys. No whys. “Just CAN’T.” Don’t EVER let them touch your car! Because:

They’re walking biohazards.

Being seen together with either one of them... ewwwwwww. They’ll just feel their stakes/stocks got raised. While yours dwindled. A price I’m sure you’re not willing to pay.

They’re ultimate cheapskates. I’m sure they’ve got enough money to pay for a cab. They’ve been earning. Heck, they can even buy their own car! Cheapos.

You do it once, and you can’t say no the next time. They’ll just keep taking advantage of you. So don’t give them the chance in the first place.

They’ll start spreading stories that you ‘gave them a ride’... ewww.

They’ll tell everyone that you have the hots for them! EEWWWWWW!!!!!!!

Better yet, just don’t talk to them. Don’t entertain, give a damn, or even acknowledge their existence. Like you can’t even see or hear them.

Because even if you show your annoyance towards them, they’d actually feel pleasure. (Ewww.) Because you ‘care’. (Ewwwwww.) Because you acknowledge they exist. And that their existence is actually having an impact on your life. Like EWWWW! Disgusting thought.

Yes, completely ignoring is the alternative, if you think being straight up and honest right to their faces telling them to go f*ck off would be too mean. Eventually they should realize “I don’t wanna have anything to do with you. Please go away.”

So that’s that for Bob and Frank. But what about Arthur?

Oh, poor Arthur. The innocent friend torn in between. The gullible type who’s already in too deep in the clutches of Bob and Frank to have the heart to break it off with them. Even though he’s seriously starting to regret ever having to talk to them in the first place.

If you have an Arthur as your friend, do make it a point to tell him: “Dear Arthur, I want you to know that you’re my friend. But when Bob/Frank is around, I’m not gonna hang out with you. It’s not you. It’s him.”

“It’s not that you can’t be friends (ugh) with him. It’s just that... when we go out together, respect me and don’t bring him along. When you go out with him, respect me and don’t bring me along!”

Make sure you completely inform and educate Arthur about your stand in this. In advance. Or he might mess up things. Like invite you over for lunch and you realize (too late) OMG Bob/Frank is there too! Yeah, Arthur is THAT type. Has the tendency to NOT understand until you MAKE him.

So you see, Bob and Frank... it’s not just me. The rest of the world hates you too. They just don’t have the honesty to say it to your faces. (And there again, I end up looking like the only mean bad guy who hates these two retards. Scapegoat me.)

So Bob and Frank... please die. Amen.

The Thick Line Between Vanity And Stupidity

2009-11-16T22:48:00.000-08:00

Vanity at The Spring Mall, Kuching.
Correction.
S t u p i d i t y .
Utter idiocy.
The ultimate folly.

Pray that nobody heard you, you ignorant jerk, otherwise you’d have made the biggest fool of yourself.

Oh wait.

I heard.

So I was lunching at The Spring Mall’s food court after a totally fucked up day of being passed around on the phone because government workers have no fucking idea who’s supposed to be doing what and I ended up taking these long trips across the Kuching/Samarahan border for the love of God and...

Sigh... never mind. I’ll leave that for another day. That’s not what this post is about.

So anyway, I had lunch back in Kuching city. The Spring Mall. Food court. Alone in one table. My eye makeup today screamed “Come-within-two-metres-of-my-personal-space-radius-and-I-will-nuke-vapourize-you” so I didn’t mind eating alone.

Then this bunch of dudes (or “apparently male human beings”... I think) took the table next to mine. I didn’t mind. Until this one guy opened his big mouth.

Here’s the dialogue transcript(s) – original Sarawakian-Malay version, with some slang-BM and English translations where applicable... enjoy:

Fagbunch: Bla-bla-bla... [probably talking among themselves]

Me: [not paying attention]

Fagbunch: [brief silence]

Me: [still ignoring them; carefully slicing chicken drumstick; maintaining composure; trying hard not to let the blunt fork fall into anybody’s eyeball by some freakish Final-Destination-style accident]

Fagboy #1: Aku sik paham, koh. Kenak ompuan mesti control gilak.
{slang-BM} Aku tak paham, ler. Kenape pompuan mesti control giler.
{English} I don’t get it, you know. Why girls have to “control”/“act-so-dainty”/be “super-composed” (regarding actions... man this isn’t easy).

Me: [ear-twitch]

Fagboy #1: Masa makan lah. Masa berjalan lah. Coba sidak macam kita owh, sikboh lah control gilak. Rilek jak bah. Sik paham ku.
{slang-BM} Masa makan ler. Masa berjalan ler. Cuba diorang macam kitorang, tak yah control sangat. Rilek je. Tak paham aku.
{English} When they eat. When they walk. Why can’t they be like us, no need to stay all super-composed and sh*t. Loosen up for Pete’s sake. I just don’t get it.

Me: [in my head] Sebab aku Lara Croft, bodo.
{English} Because I’m Lara Croft, you idiot.
(Here “I” represents the entire female species.)

(Lara Croft does not eat like a pig in a pigsty.)

Fagboy #2: Ompuan, besaa laaa.
{slang-BM} Pompuan, biase lerrr.
{English} Girls. The usual.

Me: [still in my head] Fork! I command you to stay in my hand! Spoon, don’t fly!

Fagboy #1: Nang. Tapi ku paling heran nak... sidak kuat control especially bila AKU nangga.
{slang-BM} Memang. Tapi ku paling hairan kan... diorang sangat control especially bila AKU tengok.
{English} Yeah. But you know what baffles me the most... they act super-composed especially when it's ME watching.

Me: [brain screaming inside tormented soul] OH DEAR LORD HAVE MERCY ON THESE POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS LEST I DRIVE THIS BLUNT FORK THROUGH THEIR DICKLESS HEADS NOW AND SPARE THEM FROM THE SUFFERING THAT WILL COME FROM DISCOVERING THE COLD HARD REALITY OF THIS RUTHLESS WORLD!!!

Fagboy #3: K***k perasan juak kau tok!
{slang-BM} #$%@ perasan btol ko nie!
{English} #$%@ get a load of yourself! (Lit.: You’re so vain!)

Fagbunch: [giggle / smirk / snicker]

Oh Dear Lord, they giggle like schoolgirls.

So that’s the summary.

Nope, no accidents.
My fork didn’t fly.
They left the area in one piece, still alive, no haemorrhage whatsoever.

OMG people actually talk like this in public places. When others can hear them!

Lesson of the day:
O intelligent being, have patience ye. God is Kind and Merciful.

My Narcissistic So-Called "Projects"

2009-11-07T20:12:00.000-08:00

My narcissistic rage is at its fullest bloom.
Like the moon on the 14th day.
Like the rainbow at its gayest gay.
But no, unlike rainbows, this one is not as colourful.
In fact, it speaks more of doom.
Others' doom.

Indeed... rage it is.

Not a good time to fuck me up.
Because I'm already fucked up enough.

Must be the post-Halloween cloud
That still lingers like a shroud
Around my narcissistic being.

So I cook up something
To make myself
Feel better.

It's not a crime, anyway.
Not yet...

Social Animals

2009-08-30T20:51:00.000-07:00

Homo sapiens. Humans. So-called the most evolutionarily advanced of the inhabitants of Planet Earth thus far.

These are a species that exhibit a diversity of social lifestyles, ranging from the annoying all-too-good nerd kiasus (def: obsessive-compulsive delusional high achievers with utterly low tolerance levels for and/or acceptance of failure) to the annoyingly mentally underdeveloped emo-wannabe retards (def: MTV, High School Musical, Twilight… you get the fucking idea).

There goes the first bomb.

As much as I tried to be objective and detached like an observant scientist studying some lowly organism (not worth studying anyway), I just can’t help but let the emotions get in my way. Annoyance, arrogance, sheer disgust and of course anger towards a species that should have been wiped out during the Great Flood in Noah’s time. (Heck, the Ark was meant to save the other animals anyway.)

But I’ll do my best in keeping myself neutrally aloof.

Lets talk about one annoyingly common feature of the Homo sapiens – social animals if you must – the need to be acknowledged.

Children (commonly known as "brats” in the human tongue) who crave their parents’ attention constantly throw temper tantrums, breath-holding episodes, wrist-cutting (more likely in the attention-deficit adolescent, commonly known as “emo” among their peers), regressive overdependence etc etc – all for the sake of having their existence and its significance (if any) acknowledged.

This need for such acknowledgement in early life has been portrayed by the fictional character Naruto from the annoyingly popular Japanese anime Naruto. (Yes, I admit, few years ago I used to enjoy the series, but now I find it utterly childishly annoying. Moreover with the increasing trend of young humans taking up an interest in the show merely because it is “popular” and “in” to do so – another demonstration of the pathetic need for social and peer acknowledgement.)

Unfortunately this behaviour grows into adulthood, or in other words, the adult Homo sapiens never really grow up.

A most popularly annoying example is the daily road users, drivers namely. Loud blaring music to prove one owns a digital surround stereo system, road bullies, bumper kissers – the road is not a fucking amusement park – Kancils (miniature 850 cc. Malaysian automobiles similar in appearance to mini-Austins) with dual exhausts, skirts and fake spinning rims – heck, why not just buy a sporty BMW and save us the energy-wasting eye-roll reflex…

All this to be acknowledged by fellow road users who are complete strangers with no significance in the others’ lives, and will probably never encounter each other again, so that logically there should be no need to be acknowledged by them in the first place.

Another example – the need to be acknowledged by a potential mate. This is most annoyingly common among the obligate heterosexual females of the species, to be acknowledged by men – boyfriend-stealers, sickeningly kawaii (def: lit. cute; impl. annoying) wannabes, ditzy dumb-acting women – sadly some of these dumbos are actually from the intellectual subspecies but fail badly in terms of gaining social respect.

You may very well observe this phenomenon among a gathering of female humans – either in a your local Starbucks outlet, university campus, or even by the roadside in the scorching solar radiation – whereby one or two will exhibit a sudden change of behaviour, shift of tone, annoying rise of vocal pitch, increased ocular and muscular activity – heck, why not just get a seizure and spare us the nausea – when a male member walks up to them, looks at them, or in other words, acknowledges their annoying presence.

I’m not sure if this is some form of intraspecies competing mechanism, in order to win a potential mate (or as many mates as possible, when all you really need is one). But with birth control product sales skyrocketing, I doubt if breeding is the sole purpose of this annoyingly purposeless behaviour.

Heck, I could give six billion other examples, but it won’t be necessary. The message will probably never get across. Like chimpanzees whose hearing is only attuned to certain frequency ranges and simply can’t hear, perceive or comprehend anything beyond that range.

Logically, this whole acknowledgement thing is not even necessary. When you look at the picture from above, like a helicopter hovering above the habitat of study, acknowledgement is not really required for survival in the Animal kingdom in which the Homo sapiens belong. Yet it is so fused with the annoying daily lifestyles of human beings that their brain starts to perceive it as a necessity, like ATP and H2O and O2 (food, water, oxygen).

Thus the entire species continues to live in a massively shared delusion.

There are so many other flaws this ‘perfect’ / ‘advanced’ species called human beings possess, which we will discuss in another time, for all those sad thinkers who are actually interested in the subject (or probably have nothing more meaningful to do in their life).

I suppose Lucifer must have foreseen all this – the hopelessness of this wretched lowly species which I continue to lose faith in – which is probably why he refused to bow down to Man in the first place. An utterly suicidal and masochistic act, for which he was thrown out of Heaven and doomed to burn in the Hereafter forever. I’m just lucky I’m not him, or I might have done the same… and ended up with the same fixed fate.

I suppose Darwin was right after all. Today’s humans did originate from the savage apes. From what I see around me, I have come to the most logical conclusion that the last of Adam’s children died out 1300 years ago. Extinct. Extinguished.

Like the dinosaurs. We know they existed for real once upon a time. But they’re all gone now. Possibly forever.

How low have we sunk? I wonder when another Saviour will descend from the skies to save us all. Transformers anyone? Or Independence Day for all I care…

— adapted from Social Animals: Adam’s Children Vs. Darwin’s Chimps, © 2009 Sitie F. Ajmal a.k.a. THREE ∞

Dear God… in this Holy Month of Purification and Absolution, I ask for Peace and Beauty in the sights, sounds and sensations that surround me… for everything I see, hear and feel around me now are just
utterly
fucking
ANNOYING!!!

What kind of a friend are you?

2009-07-29T10:12:00.000-07:00

Another angry/emo blog post. A READ-ONLY-GET-THE-MESSAGE-AND-DON’T-REPLY post.

Warning: this post contains offensive language, and potentially friendship-threatening issues. Proceed at your own emotional risk… or choose to stay blind and innocently unaware — the choice is yours, after all.

(This is not another fucking Facebook quiz. I’ve had it with these quizzes. As if you need a quiz to tell you that. Fucking amateurs.)

It’s the PMS.

And PMS has a very nice way of bringing out the all-this-time-unspoken truth.

Yes, t h e t r u t h i s o u t here.

And I’m not gonna bother explaining to you in the far future when someone happens to bring up this blog someday — “Hey, um, about that blog you posted a few weeks/months/years back… yeah, that wouldn’t happen to be about me, would it?” — PLEASE no stupid fucking bonus questions like this thrown straight at my face when you know I’d hate to explain. And yes, it is about you.

Who, you ask? You. Yes, YOU!

Whether it’s “you in particular” or “you all in general” — it’s up to you to interpret.

After all, it’s Y O U, fullstop.

You’re reading this now, so you will be compelled to ask the question sooner or later — “Is it me?” (making-annoying-googley-eyes) — and you know I’d be putting on a fake one-of-those-good-mood-days face of mine, smiling convincingly sincere and lying to you straight in your face, “Oh, good heavens, no, dear! Not you! It was just this other friend of mine that I was so pissed off with that day—”

Ultimate lie.

I’m sorry if it stings you… no, wait… I’m NOT (sorry) — that’s not who I am. I’m just saying what I need to say. The truth. And no regrets, no sorrys, no taking-back. If you really think you know me, you’d better know that by now.

And if it does sting, hits close to home, then it’s definitely you.

I don’t know, maybe I will be sorry some day, which would be why I’d just end up lying to your face — “Oh, no, that wasn’t you” — covering up my guilt by displacing the object of discussion to someone else. And end up hating myself for it. Not out of guilt of lying to a friend — fuck that, I’m an Aquarius so you should know friends don’t mean the world to me — yes, definitely not out of guilt for others. Just guilt for myself, for betraying my own self, making myself a nice two-faced political diplomatic snake when all I ever wanted was to be a brave straight-in-your-face outspoken activist PMS bwitch.

So what’s this whole post about anyway? It’s about friends — so-called ‘friends’….

…people who think they know everything about you…

…people who just don’t understand, or don’t want to understand, your mood patterns, your ups and downs, when you want be hang out, or when you want to just be left alone…

…people who think all friends/people/organisms are alike and should be treated alike — that you must be always there for them, for their ups and downs — when not everyone functions that way (some of us just need to be left alone sometimes, or kept a certain distance… I repeat, some of us just need to be left alone sometimes, or kept a certain distance)…

…people who don’t understand that you don’t really need to know exactly everything about a friend, including their mood patterns, ups and downs, sociability or solitude timing — you just need to know how to act upon the cues and clues that you get in certain situations (eg. when she’s not answering a certain question, don’t call and ask 15,000 times — get the hint, jerkoff)…

…people who think it’s OK to infiltrate the walls of defense (and much-needed privacy) you build around yourself, because (they think) they’re so close to you and deserve (demand, actually) to be let into your private world…

…people who just don’t get the hint that no matter how close you get, you’re setting the limits that this is as far as it goes (yes, we still want to be your friend, but THIS IS AS FAR AS IT GOES, so don’t push further, dammit)…

…people who just don’t get the phrase “this is as far as it goes”…

…people who just can’t be satisfied and keep persisting, in the name of friendship (bullshit)…

…people who act against your will — the so-called ‘enforcers’ —like you’re some kind of psychiatric patient who they think is making the wrong choice — because THEY think it’s “what’s best for you” (pleeeease spare me the heroic drama and stop making me roll my eyes like some Amazon amphibian — I make MY own choices, and I AM still clinically sane, so I am accounted for my own actions, right or wrong, they are MY own liabilities, not yours… this isn’t fucking high school where you need to dive in and save a comrade from making a childishly absurd mistake-of-a-lifetime, because we’re adults OK, let’s behave like it)…

…people who USE ‘friendship’ as their ticket to infiltrate your private defensive world (their so-called rights, bullshit)…

…people who break off friendship because they can’t get what they want, or when you try to tell them the (ugly) truth, and make you look like the bad guy…

…people who act innocently dumb (maybe they’re not acting but are REALLY dumb) and make you have to explain yourself, then they act more dumb, annoy you to your limits and make you break off your friendship with them, once again making you look like the bad guy…

…I could go on forever.

God, it sucks to be The Scapegoat sometimes.

Maybe I should’ve renamed this post “How to lose friends and alienate people…”

(By the way that movie sucks — the only good thing was watching Megan Fox do her sexy stuff and all that.)

No stupid replies please. Not to this particular post. No innocent-wannabe smartgoats like “Ouch, I felt that :P (stupidtonguestickingsmileyshit)” or “Yeah, don’t you just hate that” (a classic eye-roller) or “I thought you were my friend, bwuhuu :’((( (anotherstupidfuckedupsmiley)” or “Hey, Megan Fox is hot yeah I watched that movie too bla-bla-bla” (totally off-topic, annoying and solely meant to totally piss me off)…

You know what? Just don’t comment on this post AT ALL. PLEASE. Let me have this ONE moment of peace — not to be stalked by annoying blood-pressure hazards — and just let me get this off my chest.

I’m sure you can read READ-ONLY-GET-THE-MESSAGE-AND-DON’T-REPLY at the beginning of this post… and understand simple English.

(~~~ There, you see? The more you tell them NOT to do it, the more they’ll be COMPELLED to do it. Eventually, someone will try to write something smartass like “Girl, I know you’re angry/PMS/upset, but I just want you to know that no matter what, I’m still your friend, I understand you, will always be there for you even if you brutally murder me for it, bla-bla-bla” — just to be able to say SOMETHING (smart, they think) — NO. PLEASE NO. Just DON’T… — I hate the playing-on-my-guilty-conscience psychological approach, and I ALREADY gave the specific instructions READ-ONLY-GET-THE-MESSAGE-AND-DON’T-REPLY! — if you’re my friend, you don’t have to SAY it out, to make a point, but just SHUT UP and be the friend who understands what I’ve been ranting about in the past 1205 words ~~~)

(And no smart moves, poophead. It’ll only backfire — don’t try to post something as Anonymous or I will curse you and your loved ones a horrible slow death.)

(And, once AGAIN, I’m telling you don’t try to bring this up later in the future with something supposedly mature-sounding-and-empathetically-pissing-me-off like “Hey, girl… I know it’s me you were talking about that day in your blog, and I want you to know I’m sorry if I ever did anything to bother or hurt you… and no you don’t need to apologize…” — SAVE IT! Spare me your gracious moral triumphant oh-look-I’m-so-mature-I’m-taking-this-better-than-you-think stunt — you know that’s just gonna piss me off anyway.)

When my mood returns to normal pleasance, let’s just ignore all this, behave like everything’s as it always was, and never EVER have to bring this up like some obsessive-compulsive freak — that is, IF you want our friendship (or whatever it is you call it) to last.

Quiz of the day:
“What kind of a friend are you?”
THE SURVIVING FRIEND THAT GETS TO LIVE IN THE END OF THE STORY
If I was stranded on a boat with a friend, and the boat could hold only the weight of one — I’d push the friend. Yes, I know, most of you would graciously do the Godly thing as SAY: “Oh, I’d jump and let the friend live! That’s what friendship means to me!” Well, look at it this way — I’m doing a Godly thing too: Thou shalt not lie.

Kalau dah demi survival soal hidup-mati… babi pun boleh makan laaaaa.

People Who Use "I Thought You're My Friend" As An Excuse

2009-06-06T06:54:00.000-07:00

That’s just plain fucking childish. (No, I WON’T bother using *asterisks* in this entire post. People should really see the whole uncensored truth by now.)

You’ve heard this phrase overused in MMORPG’s (online games) like FlyFF, MapleStory, Runescape etc but then again those really are (mostly) kids playing. That’s excusable. Annoying, but excusable.

But when you hear adults saying it – your so-called friends who are supposed to know you by now after all those years – that’s just plain fucking childishly annoying.

And to think of it... I have more than THREE ‘friends’ who just do not fucking understand me... and, of course, overuse that annoying clichéd phrase.

Do you dare ask who? DON’T. The truth can hurt you. And I can be VERY truthful. So don’t challenge me.

Just plain old fucking insecure clingy bitches with nothing else to cling to in their pathetically fucked up lives.

C’mon, people. You know I’m antisocial, sometimes (if not always). You know I’m moody. You know my swings and rhythms. You oughtta fucking know me by now, ‘cause here’s a taste of your own Goddamn medicine: “I thought you’re my fwienddddd!!” (That wannabe-cute-nasal pseudobulbar-palsy voice pissin’ you off already? Now you know how it feels.)

Now here’s MY prescription to you, FRIEND(s):

Understand my privacy and need for periodic isolation
Respect it
When I say no, it’s NO
When I don’t answer, it’s NO
Do not even dare to violate my spatial rights

Because if you’re REALLY my friend, you’d understand. You’d understand me and MY needs.

Why the fuck do I need to sacrifice my own to fulfill YOUR needs? You expect that from me because I’m your fwienddddd? Well, can YOU fucking do the same? You CAN’T. Because then you wouldn’t be saying “I thought you’re my fwienddddd” in the first place.

You wouldn’t use/abuse that fucking excuse.

You wouldn’t try to manipulate me – which will fail because I’m psychic, and it’ll just deliberately annoy me. You wouldn’t annoy me. If you were really my fwienddddd.

Yeah I’m just the scapegoat. You drive me to speak the cruel words everyone wants to say, but just can’t say it ‘cause it’ll tarnish their good ol’ fake fucking reputation. So let me do the necessary evil and become the Fallen to take the world’s blame.

Yeah, that’s what it’s all about. Being the scapegoat.

By the way, Marilyn Manson’s latest album “The High End Of Low” is out! And it’s fucking awesome! As with all of Manson’s albums, ALL 15 tracks are delicious. My favourites are Wow, Into The Fire, 15, We’re From America, I Want To Kill You Like They Do In The Movies, Leave A Scar, and the hit release Arma-Goddamn-Mother-Fuckin-Geddon! Get it in your local music stores today!!!

Fuck. I just gave myself another migraine.

Oh right, I almost forgot...
WARNING: This post contains offensive language.

Most Annoying Cellphone Habits

2009-05-01T01:29:00.000-07:00

Adapted from “The 10 Most Annoying Text Habits Ever” by Victoria Lowe, from Cosmopolitan

Just a little something I thought I’d share because it’s so f***ing true and happens all too often in my community that people just need this WAKEUP CALL and STOP THIS ANNOYING INSANITY!

01. The Mass Text
Example: “What you doing tonight? / Apa polah kau? / Ko wat ape tuu? ” ~ note that the perpetrator may be sending this mundane spam message to like 20 other people on their list, probably because they were so f***ing bored ~ and super-rich OR signed up with those really cheap affordable mobile services for the really poor people who still want to waste money on SMS ~ and is surveying how everyone else is actually having a life, before they decide which one they want to imitate. READ: If you’re not actually planning to DO SOMETHING with me… like TOGETHER… do not even bother to send me this mass message spam. Because I WILL treat it like spam. So unless if you want me to reply “UNSUBSCRIBE” / “STOP SERVICE” make sure you have a specific activity planned out for me first.

02. The Texting Cult
There is always at least one point in the night when it gets really quiet, and you look around and realize that all your friends are busy messaging. At first, one person pulls out her phone… and then someone else starts doing it… and before you know it, you’re in the middle of the sacred circle of texting. Resist the urge to choose SOME RANDOM PERSON in your contacts to send a USELESS message to ~ unless if it’s something REALLY important, like news of somebody breaking into your house etc etc. You guys are out together to spend time with EACH OTHER, not your phones (otherwise you can just takeout food and sit home with your precious Texting Speedmaster challenge instead of asking the others “Hey let’s eat out! / Jom gi makan! ” in the first place). If I had the indecency (and the credit) to unnecessarily spend on text messages, I’d actually follow the culture and message everyone on the table: “So should we order another drink or go home?” just to point out the silliness of the situation.

03. The Double Message
Of course you screen/ignore calls. Everyone does. Sometimes you’re in the middle of something or sometimes you JUST DON’T FEEL like talking. But your phone is still working, and you see the missed call and the voice message alert. So why ~ f*** WHY?! ~ do certain people feel the NEED to send a message letting you know that they just called or left a message? Don’t they realize that if someone is smart enough to read a text, they’re also capable of understanding what “**** CALLING” (vibration/ringtone) or “92 MISSED CALLS” mean? Maybe he’s waiting for your reply message: “What’s next, a carrier pigeon?” (Personally, I would send something more straightforward like “No offense, I’m just IGNORING you, d***head” because these are the species of people who just don’t comprehend sarcasm.)

04. The Texting Tease
You’re seeing a really cute/smart/funny/cool new guy, and your heart skips a tiny beat every time you get a text from him. In the middle of the week, you get one asking “What you’re up to this weekend?” Assuming he wants to DO SOMETHING together, go out, dinner etc etc you let him know “I’m free this weekend.” Does he then proceed to make a plan with you? NO. He responds, “Oh OK, cool.” You stand there with a puzzled look on your face. (Once again, if he didn’t have any plans, why f***ing bother to ask in the first place? Jerk.) You should respond “Yeah, but call my secretary if you want to SCHEDULE something.” This way, the ball is in his court, but ultimately you’re the one who is in charge, thanks to your confident attitude.

05. The Bulk Texter
An example of a series of texts from this perpetrator:
Text 1: Hey!
Text 2: What’s up?
Text 3: What are you doing tonight?
Text 4: Some of us are going to Cool People Bar tonight
Text 5: Around 10
Text 6: It’s gonna be me and Sabariah
Text 7: Are you coming?
Text 8: Let us know
Text 9: Byeee!
Text 10: lolz

An example of what that exchange SHOULD look like:
Text 1: Hey, Sabariah and I are going to Cool People Bar around 10 tonight. Let us know if you wanna come.

An example of what YOU could text back:
Text 1: Please
Text 2: never
Text 3: text
Text 4: me
Text 5: this
Text 6: way
Text 7: again.
(one minute pause)
Text 8: For “realz.”

(…once again, IF you have the credit… and indecency… to lower yourself to the same level as these idiots.)

06. The Bored Texter
You’ve just finished a sufficiently long and entertaining messaging session with someone, and now you’re ready to put your phone down for a little while. But your phone beeps, and it’s another text from some other bored no-life lowlife. It looks like this: “Soooo…” Or, “What upppp!” Or, “la la la…” Clearly, they have nothing else to say and just want something to do. Send a text saying, “Running, watching movies, reading books, baking, planning my boss’ assassination.” The lowlife will get the point that some people actually have a life.

07. The Show-and-Teller
Love is wonderful. We’re huge advocates of love and being in love and enjoying love. But people gushing on and on about their amazing love life? Not so much. Not only do you have to listen to them tell every insignificant story about how cute it was that their boyfriends ate pancakes for dinner and woke up with a funny hair-do, but you also have to read all of their SUPER cute texts. “Guys, look what he wrote to me! OMG look at what he said now! Haha aww, look at this one!!” The cure? A dose of their own medicine: “Hey, look what my Mom said about her gallbladder! OMG you won’t believe how I’m planning to organize my underwear drawer! Aww, my dog is wagging his tail. Oh, he’s doing it again!!”

08. The Goobers-and-Popcorn Texter
The previews are over, you’ve been waiting to see this movie for weeks, and here you finally are, snacks in hand. But the guy in front of you insists on ruining your experience by messaging for the entire 96 minutes. Here’s a little secret he doesn’t know: EVERYONE sees his phone lighting up…. AND hears it vibrating violently every two minutes. When the lights come up at the end of the movie, call up a friend and loudly discuss how rude the guy texting throughout the entire movie was. Then get ready to start running.

09. The Lingering k…
This one is especially aggravating if you’re not on an unlimited texting plan. You get a message asking how your day went or if you’ll be free at a certain time, so you send back a detailed and informative reply. Your phone beeps again. You open the message and it says...“k.” Do people not even have the decency to include the “o”? The offender doesn’t even NEED to reply to the message. But if they feel the need to, could they not at least drum up something a little more personal/creative/not-totally-unnecessary? Respond by letting them know how much, to the cent, they owe you for superfluous texts the next time you’re together. Then hold your palm out expectantly.

10. The Needs-to-Grow-a-Pair Texter
Grownup MEN should never, EVER get comfortable with using text slang and abbreviations. Whether he’s a friend / date / boyfriend, no girl wants to associate the men in their lives with tween-speak. The next time he sends you a “TTYL8ERs” or “C U 2morrows,” tell him that he should really consider an iPhone, BlackBerry, Sidekick, or “anything that gives you more room to text.” He’ll realize how outdatedly childish his text-talk is.

Yeap, that’s about the article I just read on Cosmopolitan… with a few personal adjustments to suit the community.

And here are Sitie’s additional contributions to the list of utterly annoying cellphone habits:

-01- “Bla bla bla, lovely lovely lovely… now send this message to 41 people on your list” OH MY F***ING DWINDLING SANITY!!!~

-02- Having a nice gathering BUT everyone at the table is clicking away, secretly competing who makes the fastest series of clicks… oh wait, this was already mentioned. OMFDS~

-03- Super-annoying ringtones, eg. Tokyo Drift (MY GOD THAT SONG WENT OBSOLETE LAST DECADE!!) OMFDS~

-04- Caller ringtones ~ listen… not EVERYONE likes pop genre, or hip-hop, or Datuk Siti Nurhaliza etc etc so just let the neutral f***ing beep-beep-toot-toot do its thing like it always has for the past century. OMFDS~ (And it’s kind of unprofessional too… imagine some important Federal official calling you up for an interview and hearing the thing they despise the most… bye-bye opportunity~)

-05- Loudspeakers. Speaker system. In public places. Yes, your phone has that kind of function. So does everyone else’s. Sakai. OMFDS~

-06- LOUD speakers. ESPECIALLY in public places. Unless if you’re 82 years old and hard of hearing. OMFDS~ (Azalea, I feel your pain…)

-07- TEXTING while driving. (Talking handsfree-less while driving is banned, a thing of the past century, and not supposed to be an issue in this timeline in history, so I’m not even gonna bother mentioning it.) Public health hazard. OMFDS~

-08- Texting while riding a MOTORBIKE. Once again, texting WHILE riding… how is this even possible? OMFDS~

-09- Ringtones on LOUD in a situation that common sense indicates requires silence, eg. the lecture hall in the middle of an ONGOING lecture. Even 3310’s from the previous century had a “Silent” mode, so don’t tell me you don’t know how it works. OMFDS~

-10- Showing off your mp3 playlist. Indirectly. In public. Scenario: He’s in the commuter. No friends. He starts playing it… loudly… one by one… each track for an entire 7 seconds… skip… next track… 7 seconds… skip… next track… OH… MY… F***ING… DWINDLING… S*A*N*I*T*Y~

~The reason why Malaysia banned owning guns~

I don't celebrate Valentine's

2009-02-20T23:41:00.000-08:00

...but I did hang out with friends that day. Met Idda's friend from Wisconsin, USA and introduced her to the infamous Daszz as well... sort of like earning Kudos points. And of course, we took pics. Can't help the narcissist idulgences...

My mission was basically to destroy Valentine's Day for everyone around me, except Idda, Corey and Daszz of course. Daszz's mission was to be casually glamorous as usual. Idda and Corey... well... they were in the Valentine mood.

Then Daszz and I had to get into this minor argument.

But that didn't go too far. I won, as always.

Don't worry. We made up before the world plunged into a nuclear war...

...and we didn't spoil Idda and Corey's day.

Killing time while Daszz was shopping around for some Limited Edition trousers...

Then we headed off to Boon Khai for some local snacks and dessert.

Weird weather though. Humid glaring scorching, and then sudden monsoon torrent. Thank you, global warming effect.

The glare didn't stop human gluttony anyhow. (And this was AFTER stuffing ourselves with all that sushi!)

It wasn't much. But at the end of the day Daszz sent me home...

...but stayed around for a while...

...and we did some pretty crazy stuff......

I don't think I should show this on the Net...

but oh heck...

OMG here's what we did... we were ROLE PLAYING!!

No, I'm not too proud of what I did... I was young, for God's sake! And so was he...

What can I say... we have a fetish for narcissism.

Another Day Another Year

2009-01-20T22:47:00.000-08:00

THREE’s log, stardate 21 January 2009, Wednesday… the middle of the week… right in the middle of my exams. Sigh…

This whole year began with all sorts of challenges – exams, the flood, more exams, nuclear bombs, topped off with yet more exams…

When’s it gonna end?

Or rather (as a good friend of mine was watching The Truman Show the other day)… How’s it gonna end?

Kinda depressing, isn’t it? But I ought to be optimistic today, like the wise Chinese advise… because today is the day I was sent down to this Earth, 26 years ago. A great day indeed. The beginning of an unstoppable chain of phenomenal events that will bring remarkably unpredictable outcomes in the futures to come…

Yes, it’s true… the twisted crazy wonderful author of the emo teenage flick Sim Brady, the supernatural neo noir EyeSeeDeath, the futuristic space military Our Legacy, the fantasy aerial airship adventure Windchimes, and the awesomely dark thrilling action-packed conspiracy-filled mutant-power history-twisting science-fiction drama Free World was born this day in history! (Me, duh…)

So as to commemorate the birth of this great future mother of revolution, I present to you a nice little poem here written by THREE herself:

“When’s it gonna end? How’s it gonna end?”

End? End you say? No way, man. It’s only just begun.

I was born. And reborn again today. This is my world. THREE’s World… the Free World. Coming soon…

OK enough talk. I gotta go back to my work. Exams continue tomorrow if tomorrow will continue to exist.

Help Me Find These STAR WARS Books I Need To Complete My Collection

2008-12-31T05:01:00.000-08:00

Oh my God, STAR WARS fever has relapsed in me again!

I think I should become an MPH Bookstore member since I’ve just spent almost RM180 (equivalent to around US$55) last Friday buying the last available titles of the STAR WARS: Legacy of the Force series... those that were available at the outlet in The Spring Mall, Kuching. And there weren’t that many of them.

The stupid b*tch with the totally-off hair colour at the CUSTOMER SERVICES (!!!) counter didn’t even know how to look up the catalogue on the computer. It’s my right as a customer to request them to look up the titles of the books I want to BUY, for f*ck’s sake! If I’m f*cking buying it, that means I’m f*cking paying her salary! Aku yang bayar gaji kau, tauk sik, pompuan bodo?!

And she had this really annoying constipated face of the tyical rude Kuching citizen who was probably originally from the deepest underdeveloped jungle-town but had forgotten her roots and acts high and mighty like she’s a know-it-all when she can’t even use an obsolete desktop computer. All she kept on saying, after 360 seconds of staring at the screen and pushing hardly 2 or 3 keys, was: "Sorry, don’t have..." (Sometimes even no "Sorry" at all!!)

For f*ck’s sake, was she even searching?!! Did she KNOW how to?! How do you put an orangutan like THAT at the customer services counter?! (Yeah, she had bad hair colour like some endangered Borneo species.)

Luckily, 5 out of the 9 books I needed were there on the shelf (I didn’t need the orangutan to look for it), and I supermarket-swept them all! That put me in a good mood at least. So yeah, I didn’t drop the nuclear warhead on her this time.

My current collection:

Anyways, after all that pointless ranting (I’ve made my point)... the main reason I wrote this post (besides showing off what I own), as stated in the title, is that I NEED to complete my STAR WARS: Legacy of the Force collection, and was hoping that anyone out there kind (and intelligent) enough to lend a helping hand could, well, respond. (Calling, crying out for help here!)

WHAT I NEED NOW:

Here... take a closer look at what I DON’T HAVE... WHAT I NEED:

So please, if anyone (especially in Kuching, or Malaysia, if I get desperate enough) has sighted any of the above 4 books on my desperate wishlist, PLEASE contact me immediately, with details to the location of sighting, and price if available... oh heck I couldn’t care less about the price, I NEED those books dammnit!!!

Good luck. May the Force be with you, my fellow Jedi spies.

No orangutans please. Thank you.

Oh right... Happy New Year.

Obsessive-compulsive-impulsive manic-borderline shopping-dependency syndrome

2008-11-24T16:57:00.000-08:00

I thought there was only ONE Sitie’s Syndrome (i.e. gastro-neuro-motor systemic inhibition, a transient systemic shutdown following a bout of overeating beyond one’s normal gastric capacity). I thought the disease was cured. I thought the problem was solved and would never come back (even if it did, we’ve discovered the treatment).

WHO KNEW THERE WOULD BE ANOTHER?!! An equally (if not more) dangerous variant of this seriously depressing illness!

And once again, I’d be the one discovering this illness (the hard way).

My fellow healthcare professionals,

I (sadly) present to you:

SITIE’S SYNDROME TYPE II

Other name(s): obsessive-compulsive-impulsive manic-borderline shopping-dependency syndrome

Definition: (as if the above name didn’t explain exactly what it is…) a psychomotor-behavioral deviation of social norms where the patient is compelled to FINISH (and not merely spend) ALL her money in (mostly unnecessary) extravagant purchases, thus disrupting her socio-economic status and deteriorating her standards of living as well as quality of life. It is an obsessive-compulsive AND impulsive behavior, whereby the sufferer simply cannot resist the urge to spend unwisely, no matter how much she doesn’t really want it, associated with highly unpredictable attacks of paroxysmal impulsion to commit the act. A bitter aftertaste of guilt, depression and regret may or may not accompany, depending on the qualitative value of the products purchased (according to the patient’s perception).

Epidemiology: 1:9 male-to-female ratio, distribution GLOBAL, affects ALL age groups. Those with bipolar mania and cluster B personality disorders are at tenfold risk.

Complication(s): may result in a vicious never-ending repeating cycle, leading to ultimate bankruptcy and subsequent debts. May also cause relapse of pre-existing psychiatric illnesses, some requiring institutionalization.

Investigation(s): none needed (don’t bother). History and behavioral observation is enough to make a 100% diagnosis. Spot diagnosis can be made on any one occasion where the patient is caught in the act (usually during grand sales).

Treatment: NO DEFINITIVE TREATMENT yet discovered!! Psychological counseling and behavioral modification therapy may be of some help, however recurrence rate is extremely high.

Prognosis: currently poor, due to ineffective treatment modalities and high recurrence rate.

Prevention: Freezing of the patient’s bank accounts (usually by the parent or spouse), strictly denying any form of loan (even from good friends), environmental-situational-adaptation methods (moving to a jungle works best).

OK enough academic information for the day. Let’s move on to local events and current issues.

Happy Birthday, gal! Enjoy your ‘Honeymoon’ year, before the Hell burns through like the sands of our slipping time.

Wow you’re already 23! No wait… you JUST turned 23! And I’m almost 26… sob. There’s no turning back for me now. Change isn’t an option. I’m too old for that. Sigh, guess I’m cursed to be stuck in this rut.

Wonder if I should go on like this… for how long?

I'm not stupid! I'm just totally in the wrong field!!! I have a high IQ dammnit!!!

2008-10-25T07:07:00.001-07:00

Pathetic. Like I had to shout it out for cryin' out loud. Self-proclamation vs. self-assurance. A false sense of security anyone? The need for acknowledgement, recognition, sustenance?

I need a break. From what I'm doing now. Maybe a permanent one.

I am so in the wrong field.

Recently I've been questioning my own intelligence (yes, it actually came to THAT). So I started looking up a few (free) IQ tests on the Net, did my thing, and scored a range of 114 to 132, depending on who hosted which test. The hardest was the International High IQ Society test (where I scored my lowest, 114... just another average Joe... sob). There was no "easiest", at least not for my level I think.

Naturally, my favourite would have to be the IQ Test Labs test, where I scored my best so far, an amazing 132 (that's in the "GIFTED" category)!!!

And guess what, it gives you a FREE DETAILED report on your strengths and weaknesses, according to the nine identified IQ categories, namely:

General knowledge (I'm not so bad at it)

Classification skills (not that good at it)

Logical thinking (my strongest point)

Mathematics (not bad)

Short-term memory (fairly good)

Pattern recognition (my weakest)

Spatial orientation (surprisingly good at it, considering my terrible sense of direction)

Verbal IQ (my strongest, proudest skill)

Visualization power (another very strong point in me)

Just to give you an idea where pattern recognition and classification skills come into play: identifying signs and symptoms, classifying them in certain syndromes or diseases... yes, basically doctors use these skills the most.

I'm so totally in the wrong field...

Sounds like a LOVE STORY… a heartbroken one

2008-09-22T05:15:00.000-07:00

Trust and betrayal. Like that Rurouni Kenshin OVA (special mini series) title.

Camouflaged as a mood swing, which is obviously not the actual cause of me behaving this way, not this particular day. Because I can’t start an open war with them. Despite my love of open wars, there are some people you just CAN’T wage a war with.

It’s not like I’ll lose anything, but it’s just, let’s say, a matter of upholding certain principles. Standards that define myself in this physical material universe.

I even CRIED, not for the sake of friendship or its so-called meaningfulness or any of that bullshit. I cried not because I was sad, not because of bonds or relationship matters.

FOR GOD’S SAKE, I’m an individualist born under the air sign of Aquarius. Personal and interpersonal bonds, ties, relationships etc etc mean NOTHING to me.

Honestly I’m not the type that would shed a tear even if my best friend died.

Want me to repeat that?

I am NOT the type that would shed a tear if my best friend DIED.

But I shed tears today…

Because I was disappointed.

So disappointed with myself.

That I let my guard down; that I took things for granted.

That I allowed myself to peep out of my hermit shell, even for a wee bit, thus exposing my soft fragile exoskeleton to the harsh destructive environment outside.

That I actually let myself TRUST, even just a little bit – something that I vowed never to do (again) – and had this trust betrayed (again).

That I let this sort of thing happen to me (again)… that this sort of thing COULD actually happen to me (again)!

So disappointing.

I’m such a failure.

Yeah, it’s probably my own fault anyway. I suppose I deserve it.

OMG.

That’s what I get for dissing them emos. Guess I still have those remnant traits in me.

READ: You do NOT want me as your enemy…

REPEAT: You DO NOT want me as your ENEMY.

EXPLANATION: I DO NOT want to go to jail/Hell because of you.

PS: The hermit crab has (for now) learnt her lesson. The hermit crab shall now walk around with a bazooka mounted instead of an anemone. Décors seem utterly useless at this point.

~Mun ada siapa-siapa yang terasa selepas baca tok… maknanya ADAlah sebab kau terasa, nak?~

~Mun sik, SIKlah kau terasa~

Really CHEAP ways to get rich in 2008

2008-09-16T02:23:00.000-07:00

Designed for the utterly cheap. Inspired by real-life events experienced by THREE in the environment, and the ‘people’ (or rather pigs) surrounding her.

It’s 2008 and fuel prices are hiking. So here are 8 tips on how you can save up to get richer than your lame peers by the end of the year:

Cellphone savers: Basically borrow others’ cellphones to make calls and send messages, and always make excuses to not bring yours. The best excuses are classically “I left mine at home / in the car / at my mistress’ place and I can’t be seen anywhere near her house for the next 2 weeks because my wife is back from her business trip.” IMPORTANT NOTE: Target different victims every time until your criminal pattern is recognized at your workplace and/or copied… then think of other tactics. I’ve seen this happen at the local government hospital too many times. Unfortunately, that guy used up his very last victim and now has to resort to other methods yet undiscovered by the State Health Department.
Water bill down the drain: Take baths ONLY when it is absolutely necessary eg. molds, mushrooms or other non-commensal/parasitic vegetation growing on your, um, body parts. (No, the smell alone is not the indication for baths.) Do not do laundry too often. Reuse your clothes (especially uniforms) until they start growing mushrooms as well. I’ve seen this one classmate (korang tau ^siapa^ kan) reusing his lab coat until you could see the characteristic green-grey mosaic-like patterns of Stachybotrys chartarum forming on it. (Entahlah dia basuh lagi ke tak selepas tu!) EXTRA TIP: You could even make some extra profit by selling the product of this absolutely effortless investment. I heard fungiculture (a.k.a. mushroom farming) is earning a lot of respect in this region these days.
Go Dutch, but... always disappear when it’s your turn. Alternatively, you can perform the classical act of being broke when it’s your time to pay. To be on the safest side, calculate the ETA (estimated time of apprehension i.e. when your wallet should be taking the toll) and just precisely, on that very day, DO NOT carry any cash, credit card, cheques, ANY possible monetary threats to your expenditure. Subsequently, be very VERY busy on the next few days that follow, so that you do not have time to eat out with your colleagues. Hopefully they forget about the whole thing by the time you’re ‘free’ again. BACKUP PLAN: If that doesn’t work, uphold the holy rite of fasting for the next 7-14 days for some very sacred reasons, eg. your unrelated uncle’s leukaemia got mysteriously cured and you promised God you’d pay him back by fasting. It happens.
Fuel frenzy 1: Car pooling… preferably, OTHER PEOPLE car pooling. Once again, very tactfully, come up with reasonably believable excuses like “battery dead” when it’s your turn. (Yes, I plead guilty of repeating this innocent money-life-saving offense… until the battery actually died few days back. Indeed, God is Most Just, Most Knowing. Sesungguhnya, Tuhan Maha Adil, Maha Mengetahui.)
Fuel frenzy 2: OFFER to give some very nice people a ride, but go on an empty tank. Then refill at the nearest station, making sure that the target is the gullible species, gratefully obliged to pay for your extremely selfless act. IMPORTANT: It must be the gullible, susceptible, nicest-next-door-neighbour kind of target you pick as your victim. You cannot pull this trick on your own species. (Ingat masa nak pergi Bintangor? Siapa tak ingat…)
Fuel frenzy 3: If the above method fails, repeat, but this time go on an empty tank AND empty wallet, so the victim just has to pay for you. IMPORTANT REMINDERS: (1) Gullible species, (2) with money; (3) make sure it’s not those big hairy tattooed truck-driver types, or they WILL have you pay them back, whatever it takes, even if it’s your own life. Choose wisely who you wish to ‘help’.
Classic crashers: Free lunch at the neighbourhood weddings/funerals! (Yes, socializing with neighbours is healthy after all.) I’ve observed this behaviour in the traditional Malay neighbourhood I currently live in. The perpetrators always seem to get diarrhoea immediately after the hearty meal… therefore they just have to leave without helping the folks clean up. In Australia (where the “free lunches” aren’t exactly free), a variation of this behaviour exists, whereby, the perpetrator gets diarrhoea towards the end of the meal, right before the money is collected from every guest. He/she successfully escapes 99.99% of the time.
Use DiGi: It’s the cheapest prepaid service for those cheap folks who can’t (or rather WON’T) afford Maxis. However, be prepared for absolutely no coverage in 90% of the areas they claim to cover. (Indeed, you pay for what you deserve, and deserve what you pay for.) DISCLAIMER: I do not own, endorse, or commercially insult DiGi or Maxis (the so-called mega mobile telecommunications companies of South-East Asia)… I am simply a consumer, and the above statement has been concluded strictly from my own personal experience and observation as a consumer, thereby exercising my rights, as a consumer as well as a citizen, of freedom of speech and opinion, as long as sensitive issues such as race, religion, and/or sexuality (none of which concern the abovementioned statement) are not raised.

Hah!

(Feel free to spread these wise words around. I wrote them, but they’ve been universally practiced since currency was discovered in this country.)

First entry: New to blogspot...

2008-09-11T23:18:00.000-07:00

...since I've deleted my Friendster (again!) AND MySpace (hardly a month after registering), thought I might try to experiment with Blogspot. But *&%$# when I tried to register for my "threeinfinity.blogspot.com" site, it said the name had already been taken. I'm like WTF who the #$*&% is this? So yeah I typed in http://threeinfinity.blogspot.com/ hoping that I wouldn't explode into (another) haemorrhagic stroke as the page loaded.

Luckily my Streamyx connection is slow.

So as the spinning progress bar, um, spun... I tried to be rational, reasoning with my superego as to why I shouldn't assassinate this other blogger:

There are more than 6 billion people on this planet, so yeah there is a chance (1:6,000,000,000) that someone else must have chosen such a name for themselves which was born purely out of revelationary inpsiration, without any outside influence, born from a realization of self, identity and being. Of course, I couldn't think it would be anyone else but me, but hey the chance is still there.
This person was not from the South-East Asian region. (A reasoning that makes the above statement more acceptable to my conscious self - all the less reason to believe that my name was stolen by some random Friendster viewer, who are mostly South-East Asian.)
This was not someone I knew. (Definitely not. There's no way they would still be around.)
This was not some emo (so-called) "rock" band blog.

The page (finally) loaded.

I must've exploded.

(2 of the above reasonings were violated.)

My consciousness was clouded momentarily. There was some red fluid substance on my lips which tasted like oxidized iron, and it stung. I couldn't recall much of what happened the next 3 seconds afterwards, but it basically gave me an idea for my first blog entry.

So I posted this, struggling to keep my eyes open.

I just felt extremely drowsy for some reason. Couldn't remember what happened next. Zzzz...