Change

I'm moving to a new apartment tomorrow; a slightly more expensive but a much better one. Moving's gonna be a bitch because I'm having my exams on the 26th and have prepared for far less than half of the possible questions.But more importantly, if we move EVERYTHING tomorrow, we'll have no internet till we get back to Malaysia. For me, that's going to be on the 6th of July. The humanity! That's why I'm posting a wall of text with no pictures. Here's hoping that my roommate's Megaphone internet service is still working. Here's hoping that I can leech off Lico's internet when I'm over there. Here's hoping that I finish reading everything that needs to be read. Here's hoping for Hope. Cheesy, I know.

Writers' Blocks

Fuck 'em.

For the First Time...

I think this comic speaks for itself. From Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal Comics

I don't know why

...but I find this picture hilarious:

Starcrossed

I'm not big on romantic films because I'm manly and whatnot.

I'm quite easily affected by touching/inspiring dramas i.e. Pass It Forward, Schindler's List, Freedom Writers; because I'm sensitive like that.

I've just watched the 2005 short film Starcrossed.

Don't worry, it's a 15-minute film, so tak luak pun masa study.

It's about a love between two individuals that is opposed not only by their parents, but by society itself.

Great acting. Cute falling-in-love scene. Short, somewhat cliche dialogues that successfully make you feel the dilemma. The ending is quite powerfully moving.

A great movie, all in all.

There's only one thing.










The lovers are two brothers.





Two very related brothers.





Two very male brothers.



Homosexual incest action.

I actually got the confirmation that I'm not a homophobe after watching the movie. I feel for the characters: their yearning for each other, their concern about the obstacles in front of them. Oh and the Romeo and Juliet ending is just a tried and true formula. [Highlight the black box to view spoiler!]


I do not condone incestuous relationship, though... from both the medical and oh-my-god-that's-sick-when-you-fucked-grandpa-by-Blink-182 aspects.

So, in conclusion, again:







Homosexual incest action

Mr. AtoZ

I like this guy.



I won't go into fangirl mode and tell you how great his lyrics/voice/music are.

He's genreless, or rather genreful. He goes on stage with a generic t-shirt and jeans/khakis. He blogs at blogspot, for goodness' sake. True, the blogs all have that PR/PC-approved vibe but still... If nothing else, it creates the illusion that the artist is the blogger, not some PR intern.

Plus, he's not too pretty that he'd make me feel uncomfortable liking his music.

I just like this guy.

Intimidated

I gave in to the will of the people and joined Facebook around half a year ago. Now, I'm a permanent resident, unofficial moderator and paparazzi-stalker of Facebook.

What's great about Facebook is that EVERYONE has an account and the search function is rather user-friendly, unlike Friendster in its height.

Through Facebook, I've found back a LOT of my old friends, some of which I don't remember being friends with. So, old bonds were renewed, old jokes were retold. New promises of meeting up and whatnot were made.

I met this one old friend. Really old. Hell, the last time I remembered talking to him when I was 8 years old. 15 years ago. We talked online, really hit it off, we are quite the nerds and share quite a few nerdy interests. That's all good. And like with everyone else, I promised to meet up with him when I come back. One problem. He's a model now. No, not your counter-culture nerd model. A real you know, good-looking good-dressing model.

Another old friend, who reads my blog, by the by, is a girl I barely knew when I was in the Writers' bloc journalist workshop back when I was 15. 8 years ago. All of us spent 3, 4 days together and that's it. We never had any contact until very very very recently. And online, we talk about our interests more passionately than I do with most people I know and meet everyday in this very city. I'm meeting her up before going back to Malaysia.

I'm as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full with rocking chairs, I am.



I'm quite labile in personality and interests.

When the mood hits me, I can just listen to Bach and Beethoven all day with hot milo in my hand. But sometimes, I want to do nothing but head-bang to my Blink 182-Rammstein playlist.

My friends from high school were quite surprised to learn that my friends from UiTM think of me as a gentleman. I was known as the resident asshole of SMSU.

I laugh at and make crass jokes when I'm with group A but with group B I do nothing but debate seriously the finer things of philosophy and spirituality.

The only things, which are true whatever faces I wear are: I'm a bit of a nerd-geek combo, at the very least; I hold a rather universal spiritual belief; and that I love to write.

I'm afraid that when the time comes to meet up with these people, I'd have the wrong personality on. I envy those who can 'be themselves'. I am all these faces and more. I'm quite complex that I don't even know which stereotype I am! It's all find and dandy when I don't have to meet new people but when I have/want to, it's quite crippling.

That's the reason I come off shy or anti-social when I meet you for the first time. I was gathering data, so to speak, of your likes and dislikes, of how you speak, of what tickles you. That's also the reason why the second time you see me, I'm friendly as hell.

I'm so fucked up.

Kapirkah aku?

Kapirkah aku?

Kalau aku tak buat ...?
Kalau aku buat ...?
Kalau aku kata ...?
Kalau aku tak kata ...?

Kapirkah aku?

Kalau aku tanya?
Kalau aku soal?
Kalau aku tak nampak?
Kalau aku tak ikot?

Kapirkah aku?

Kalau diorang kata A,
Aku kata B?
Kalau diorang kata hoi,
Aku kata hee?

Kapirkah aku?

Kalau aku bukan biri-biri?
Kalau aku tentang?
Kalau aku gelak?
Kalau aku kata mari gelak?

Kapirkah aku?
Kalau kau kata aku kapir?
Kalau kukata kukapir?
Kapirkah aku?

Kafirlah aku
Pabila
Hakim segala hakim,
Raja segala raja,
Tuhan segala tuhan
Kata kukafir.

Absolutely Cuckoo by Magnetic Fields

Johan Ariff Bin Juhari wrote a fucking 20-paged excellent and complete case history in a single night and the fucking lady said, "I said you have to write it in a notebook!". Hell her only complain was that he forgot to write the name of the Head of Department. Later that day, he discovered he's supposed to write a paper on a lecture his teacher thought he missed. He has to do both by tomorrow. Now he's fucked up sideways, upside down and still hasn't got any studying for Surgery finals 4 days away done.

Lesson learned in Russia: When you give your best to do the things you don't want to do but decided to give your best anyway because that's just the kind of person you are, you're just going to be fucked up three-ways till Sunday.

This place, the experience I have, the people I know here are joining forces just to bring out the worst in me. I really am not sure at this exact moment whether I can take it for another two years. I need a break from these things. A permanent one.