Sports

Stop staring at #33's hard-on
Picture by Micah-Nelson

The Malaysian Games, that we Volgogradians hosted, had just ended.

Sports events, they say, bring people together. I wholeheartedly agree with that statement. What I don't agree is the idea that sports events unite people.

Sports events bring people together to fight and argue and bitch and create conflict.

Often, on the same side.

Lullabies

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One of the most clearest memories I have, and that's rare, is of my mom singing lullabies and her gentle clapping on my forearm or tummy. [Any of you realize it's cute for kids to have tummies but gross for grown up to have them?]

Dad was a story teller. He craftily thought that if he tell a long story, we'd fall asleep. His story had princes going on horses and galloping for 15 or more minutes in the hopes of we getting bored and falling asleep. Of course, being the curious asshole that I was, I kept him awake instead, asking him pastu? Pastu?

I don't think there was one night in the early years that we slept alone. Therefore, we had no use of teddy bears nor blankies. And I don't think any of us had imaginary friends either. That was how ideal our childhood was.

Of course, later, zaman tua sikit lupa mak pak and the rebellious teenager years that seemed compulsory came, in our individual ways. I was the passive aggressive rebel. Haha.

But, back to them, try pulling that stunt while working and arriving home usually at 8-9 pm. Dad was working at Ford those days, and mom at that place in PJ where we'll pass the two cow statues on the way.

These are the few most memorable lullabies mom sang, rendered by her, of course:

Kenek-kenek ude
Lembu patoh tandok
Che' Mek kenolah gode
Che' Awe keno tumbok
Oa oa oa oa


Pok amai-amai
Belalang kupu-kupu
Tepuk biar pandai
Emak upah susu

Susu lemak manis
Santan kelapa muda
Adik jangan menangis
Emak ada kerja


O Bulan
Mana bintang?
Atas pokok kayu ara

O tuan
Mana sayang?
The last line I can't remember because this is the cue for her to say something silly and/or tickle me.

I hate you Russia for existing and making me have to be here.

So Random You'll Scratch Your Head

I do my best writing when I'm plagued with emotions. At least, that's what I feel. And this time, the metaphorical Egyptians is pissing off the metaphorical Omnipotent One. Which reminds me of a chart I saw showing the amount of people, whose death are caused by Satan [somewhere around 10] and the amount that was caused by God [It literally went off the chart] in the Bible. That's the problem with believing in a Good God, I think, instead of a God that is high above such human terms as good and evil.

But I digress. Well, not really. This blog is about bits and pieces. A jumbled up glandular emotion shit that can be described by the Master of Subtle Subject Changing, "people tend to glean over the whole 'i'm a complex human being bit'"

Actually, that quote doesn't make any sense to the context but hey ho let's go, it's a new day.

Oh, and before I forget, Happy Zombie Jesus Day.

A friend of mine, whom I've not met for more than 4 years, was reluctant to meet up with me because of his memories of me bullying him. I was shocked, to put it mildly. Here I was, pitying myself, feeling that I was hated and/or insignificant in the whole 2 years of Upper High School and somebody thought, maybe even is still thinking, of me as a bully. Self pity is an evil thing, children. The worst thing was that I had so much good memories with this particular friend but the fact of the matter is that he simply isn't having the same perspective. Freaky.

Another friend of mine sent me an SMS a month or two back, writing in admiration of me not-giving-crap of what people think. Again, shock. I thought I was thinking too much of people's opinions. If I was the person that I want to be, a LOT of people are going to be pissed with me, here in Volgograd. Oh, alright, they'll be MORE pissed with me than they already are.

I'm tired of being fake. I'm tired of smiling, when I wanna say, "You know what, dear? Fuck off." I'm tired of avoiding conflicts. I'm tired, I'm tired, I'm tired. My kind of Heaven: Being able to say anything without consequences.

Friends of mine from South Asia are super sensitive of what people'd say about their parents. It's sweet... and annoying as hell. You don't want people to ask, "Didn't your parents teach you something or another?", then don't do fucked up things. Some people I know here are ridiculously selfish. You are at that age, where everything you do still reflects your upbringing. So stop fucking up, worthless pieces of shit.

I'm tired of doing my end of things and people procrastinating, if at all, with their own parts. In relationships, in home works, in getting signatures... Do unto others what thou wanst to be done unto thee. WTF do I procrastinate with other people's things that much?

I'm falling in love with Volgograd. As a general population, I hate the Malaysians here but I'm in love with the City/Town/Backwater Kampung.

It's been very long since I posted a wall of text. No pictures or videos on this one. Not like people care if I spend hours looking for the perfect picture for a post, right? Oh well.

Song for the moment

Got a new PC and feel like people think I'm so damn rich and feel quite guilty for asking my mom for it but then again, without it, I don't know how I was going to survive. Don't feel like blogging. Here's the song for the moment:

Color blind iz da shiznit

Since I don't have a pc yet, I can't spend hours on an entry like I usually do. Instead, I'm gonna post videos. Watch 'em, you idiots.

Despair not!

For I have seen a vision, and yea, it is a vision of hope and prosperity and general goodness. I have seen that soon it shall rise again, it shall continue its glorious mediocrity. This blog shall rise again!

For the meantime, here's Mr. Izzard: