Fuzzy!

Back to basics

2011-12-26T05:53:00.000+04:00

It has been almost a year since my last post.

Lots have happened, lots haven't.

Let the brain fart begin, shall we?

I wish sometimes that I don't have the soul of a writer: the passion one gets when one focuses on something, the simplest instances develop into whole stories in a blink of an eye - a lingering smile into an epic romance, a moment's glare into a tale of oppression, a mediocre joke into the comedy of the century.

But changing who you are, is it worth it? To stay under the radar, to get your shit together?

I should change. I should stare my fears in the eyes and tell them to give me all they've got. But, of course, to quote that great man, I must bring my guns to the swordfight.

I shouldn't change. I must stay as someone who falls head over heels as easily as it is hard for him to even like someone. Maybe tone down the crazy a bit but then again, it's part of my charm.

Or lack of it, I don't even know.

Why can't these things be easy?

Blergh.

What Is It About These Cauc(Asian)?

2010-12-29T06:13:00.000+03:00

In the east, we have this:

In the west, they do this:

Basically, white people try to get colour and people-of-colour try to get white.

Why?

Unless your skin colour is blue, it's probably attractive.

Oh, wait...

2010-12-01T22:22:00.000+03:00

Hey, Man, I'm Alive!

I'm taking each day a night at a time.
Yeah, I'm down but I know I'll get by.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, man!
I gotta live my life
I'm gonna pick up all the pieces
and what's left of my pride.

I'm feeling like a Monday
but someday I'll be Saturday night.

I Don't Care if Monday's Black

Tuesday, Wednesday heart attack,
Thursday never looking back,
It's Friday, I'm in love.

Hush, Little Baby, Don't Say a Word

And never mind that voice you heard,
It's just the beast under your bed,
In your closet, in your head!

2010-12-01T07:02:00.001+03:00

The flying fuck? I've not posted for over a month? Shit.

Perceptions

2010-12-01T06:54:00.001+03:00

This came from my tumblr but it's blog-worthy isn't it?

People who are attracted to women are judged if they say they find this person hot:

Because it promotes an unrealistic body image for girls, and it's bad and yadda yadda yadda. I agree completely.
But
These are healthy images for boys?

...
...
...
...
Sorry, drooling over Mike Chang's abs.
What was my point?

Fight For Your Right

2010-10-31T07:40:00.001+03:00

I'm fighting for the rights of minority, despite belonging to the majority.
I'm fighting for the sake of equality.
I'm fighting for your rights.
Won't you fight along with me?

I'm a traitor, apparently, I don't care.
I'm a keyboard warrior, they say, I don't care.
I'm doing this for empty publicity? I don't care.
But when these slanders come from you...

Why should I fight for your rights if you're content with talking behind closed doors and being Uncles Tom?

I Should Really Write Here More Often

2010-10-17T10:01:00.002+04:00

But I'm stuck in Tumblr.

Damn, you Tumblr!

2010-09-22T22:59:00.003+04:00

Obligatory Raya Post

2010-09-09T16:21:00.000+04:00

Everybody's probably blasting their Raya mix.

Not me, though.

Raya songs are usually about the happy feasts people have or how one doesn't get to spend the day with their loved ones.

Food and complaints, how very Malaysian.

My mix is the exact song list from the cd of love songs Papa'd play on our 8-hour drives back to Kelantan, unshuffled. The songs that I'd sing off-key-ly to, annoying my mom and siblings, who'd be trying to sleep in the car.

Good times.

Happy Raya all!

Failure

2010-09-07T23:20:00.002+04:00

I fail at following my own advice.

Kata-kata Orang Yang Tak Sesat

2010-09-03T20:49:00.000+04:00

Orang Yang Tak Sesat hina orang yang sesat. Tak cukup dengan itu, dia hina keluarga orang yang sesat.

Orang Yang Tak Sesat kata kita tak boleh persoalkan agama, walhal dalam Quran nyata dikatakan bahawa orang kafir adalah orang yang mengikut agama dia sebab bapa-bapa dia menganut agama tersebut, iaitu menganut membuta-tuli.

Orang Yang Tak Sesat kata tak boleh menggunakan metod empirik dalam agama, walhal Nabi Allah Ibrahim jumpa Tuhan dengan cara deduksi.

Orang Yang Tak Sesat panggil orang yang sesat kufur, musyrik, sedangkan Allah sendiri menegur Rasul Allah Muhammad pabila baginda mengatakan bahawa dosa si pencuri kafan tidak akan dimaafkan.

Ya Allah, kalau macam ni lah Orang Yang Tak Sesat, Kau sesatkan lah aku selama-lamanya agar aku tidak dimurkaiMu.

Friendship

2010-08-28T21:51:00.000+04:00

Free Myspace Generators

A two-way street, just saying.

Perfection: A Wall of Text

2010-08-12T21:41:00.000+04:00

I am insecure I am clingy I grew up ridiculed I grew up having a pretty bad self perception I grew up without any real friends I get irritated by most people I know I worry too much I care too little I'm doing it all for the wrong reason I hate others too easily I am suspicious of those who love me I'm inapprropriate I'm rude I'm an elitist I'm proud in the bad way I am too trusting too fast I don't deserve the respect and love people give me I push those who come close to me I'm afraid I'll disappoint people's expectation I sometimes hate the way I look I want to be left alone I want to be adored too much I am an attention whore I'm a mean bitch I'm hateful I'm hated I'm fake I know nothing but will never admit it I judge people too quickly I am insulting to people I care about

To me, I, sometimes, am the worst person on Earth

I have the world's greatest mom. My dad is proud of me. My sisters love me. My brother and I are having an almost incestuous bromance. I have friends who take the day off from work just to spend the whole day with me without anything specific in mind. I have friends who can sit with me and crap for literally 6-hours straight and still feel that we've not spent enough time together that day. I have more bromances than enough for two men. I have friends that I know I can talk to about anything and everything. I have internet people, who I've never met or even talk to verbally, who adore me, flaws and all. I am appreciated by too many people. I've felt romantic love and infatuation once each. I have people who are comfortable enough with me to tell me things about themselves and what they do, things that society would frown upon.

My life is perfect. Envy me.

Life Lessons: Lesson #1

2010-08-01T18:34:00.000+04:00

It's annoying to hear a 24-year old talking about life as if he knows everything there is to know about it.

In truth, he's still learning about life. All of us are. Even your 93-year-old grandfather, who went through two world wars and that robotic invasion from the future is still learning about life even as his mind turns to mush.

That person, who claims to know a lot about life, however is usually and ironically one of those who knows less compared to others.

So, if by the cosmic scale we all hold more or less the same quantity of the mysteriae vitae, why not start sharing whenever you can, be you a 93-year-old war veteran, a 24-year-old struggling not to care about people's thoughts and expectation or a 6-year-old, who for the first time in his life went potty all by himself?

I try to always remind myself that even touched fools know something I do not. ~~I do this especially when I'm dealing with mentally-not-challenged retards.~~ Why not learn from them?

So, Lesson Numero Uno: When you're in a good mood, maximize it.

one happy geek. by ~poop-art on deviant ART

It might seem pretty obvious but hear me out. When sorrow comes a-knockin', we feed it. Consciously or otherwise, we feed it by brooding over it. We try to distract ourselves but more often than not, we suck at it.

It's pretty hard to stop doing that, I know. If that's the case, why not spend as much focus when euphoria's home?

Even if your singing annoys your siblings; even if your dancing draws scowls and jeers; even if your ear-to-ear grin earns criticism - do whatever keeps you in the mood.

This is vital. You never know when your next high is coming. It might be hours, it might be days, it might be years in some cases.

So, why not enjoy it while it lasts?

Let's Do It

2010-07-25T22:00:00.001+04:00

Let's Do It [Let's Fall In Love]

But that’s why birds do it,

Bees do it,

Even educated fleas do it,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

In Spain the best upper sets do it,

Lithuanians and Letts do it,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

The Dutch in old Amsterdam do it,

Not to mention the Finns,

Folks in Siam do it,

Think of Siamese twins.

Some Argentines without means do it,

People say in Boston even beans do it,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

Romantic sponges they say do it,

Oysters down in Oyster Bay do it,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

Cold Cape Cod clams ‘gainst their wish do it,

Even lazy jellyfish do it,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

Electric eels, I might add, do it,

Though it shocks ‘em I know,

Why ask if shads do it,

Waiter bring me shad roe.

In shallow shoals English soles do it,

Goldfish in the privacy of bowls do it,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

The dragonflies in the reeds do it,

Sentimental centipedes do it,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

Mosquitoes, heaven forbid, do it,

So does every katydid do it,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

The most refined ladybugs do it,

When a gentleman calls,

Moths in your rugs do it,

What’s the use of moth balls?

Locusts in trees do it,

Bees do it,

Even overeducated fleas do it,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love.

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love,

Let’s do it, let’s fall in love

2010-07-25T21:52:00.002+04:00

The Cure - Friday I'm In Love

Uploaded by manon42. - Explore more music videos.

I don't care if Monday's blue

Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too

Thursday I don't care about you

It's Friday, I'm in love

Monday you can fall apart

Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart

Oh, Thursday doesn't even start

It's Friday I'm in love

Saturday, wait

And Sunday always comes too late

But Friday, never hesitate...

I don't care if Mondays black

Tuesday, Wednesday - heart attack

Thursday, never looking back

It's Friday, I'm in love

Monday, you can hold your head

Tuesday, Wednesday stay in bed

Or Thursday - watch the walls instead

It's Friday, I'm in love

Saturday, wait

And Sunday always comes too late

But Friday, never hesitate...

Dressed up to the eyes

It's a wonderful surprise

To see your shoes and your spirits rise

Throwing out your frown

And just smiling at the sound

And as sleek as a sheik

Spinning round and round

Always take a big bite

It's such a gorgeous sight

To see you eat in the middle of the night

You can never get enough

Enough of this stuff

It's Friday, I'm in love

I don't care if Monday's blue

Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too

Thursday I don't care about you

It's Friday, I'm in love

Monday you can fall apart

Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart

Thursday doesn't even start

It's Friday I'm in love

Cabin Fever

2010-07-21T22:58:00.002+04:00

Day #3 of staying alone in this apartment:

All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.
All work and no play makes jack a dull boy.

That is all.

Homophobia

2010-07-14T23:52:00.006+04:00

I get why you don't agree with homosexuality. I really do. You think it's against God's Laws, it's unnatural, it turns you on even though you're straight: WHATEVER.

But why must you hate gays, though?

I don't agree with your views.

I don't agree with your actions.

I don't agree with your sense of style.

Do I have to hate you then?

Remember Kids:

Labels

2010-07-03T15:51:00.003+04:00

Let's face it.

We label people. Yes, even you, the snooty one who says, labeling is wrong! You label labelers as close-minded bigots, more often than not.

I understand why people need to label. It's comforting when you can categorize people in certain definitions because one feels like one can predict the reactions of said people. Girls cry. Boys play sport. Girl likes boys and boys like girls. The universe is in order.

Like so many great people before me said, we are afraid of things we do not understand. And what's more difficult to understand than people who act beyond our comprehension on how the world works, beyond our expectation?

Why does this man love another man?

How does this race of lazy bastards stay in power for so long?

How does a person with mediocre voice, singing meaningless pop songs that he doesn't even write, becomes so famous?

And what's a more appropriate thing to do than hating the things we're afraid of, things we don't understand?

And let's be honest. We label ourselves. I label myself as an out-of-the-box thinker. A writer. A person who appreciates art. An ok-looking guy who mind-bogglingly has/had a number of admirers, both men and women. A procrastinator. An open-minded person. The list goes on and on.

I do hate it when people label me, though. Especially when they say, "I know you." or "Of course, you'd do that." I hate it. When people say that, I go out of my way to do something outside of their expectation. Then, their perception of me will be shattered. I do so love to fuck people's minds up.

I guess we hate people labeling us because it limits who we are in their eyes and we believe that we're so much more than that. But then, we label ourselves, too. We limit ourselves to these labels.

And if you take away these labels, you're labeling yourself as a person unlabeled, undefined.

That's just another label, now, innit?

Conclusion: This post wants you to think but provides no answer.

Disclaimer: This post is full of sarcasm and satires. So, please think before you post though I doubt you'd do that.

The Wacky Adventures of Bill and Steve

2010-07-01T13:14:00.002+04:00

I got these from here.

Players of Cos

2010-06-27T21:12:00.006+04:00

I'm very ambivalent about cosplayers.

On the one hand, I find them borderline pathetic [Sorry, M, but this is my knee-jerk reaction. It's societal brainwashing, you understand that, don't you?]

On the other hand, the first coherent thought I have when I see a good cosplayer is OMG I WANT THAT COSTUME TOO!

I mean, come on! How GOOD are these:

In short: I want to be as coolly pathetic as these people.

Dear Stalkee:

2010-06-24T22:59:00.000+04:00

This is the exact same thing that I posted on your Facebook wall but with pictures and I thought that you might want to make a virtual carbon copy that you can check from time to time.

OMG we make the best raya pics ever

People say I stalk you.

So, apparently, knowing you for 6 years and having regular 6-hour-minimum hanging out/gossiping/shopping session and sharing news on facebook is considered stalking.

Maybe I should, like, meet you once in my life and then keep on bugging you on your facebook wall. Like that I can join the others as your BFF ah? Haha.

But then again, if that means erasing the 6 year experience -

- which includes, but not limited to, you talking my ears off on our
first volgo flight; you consoling me during my depression because I lost
my room key; our patching up stories from different sides to see the
...whole picture; me trying unsuccessfully convincing you to buy a summer
dress just for the hell of it; our long walks; our neverending talks;
the dirty looks we get from zhar pitssa girls because we sit there for
too long; the awkward juniors asking whether we're an item -

- if I have to wipe the slate clean, then, screw it all to hell, I'll be
your stalker instead of your BFF.

Serious shit, I don't know how I'm gonna survive Volgo people without
you. D=

This started as a joke tapi skarang dah emo.

Gila terrer aku tulis sampai aku sendiri teraffected. Oh, and of course,
To Sir With Love is playing with Kurt's Oh, it isn't easy but I'll
tryyyyyyyyyy!

Random picture since we have very little pics of us together =.=

Things That Makes Me Happy Today

2010-06-18T16:41:00.000+04:00

My outfit

Plaid Shorts with Reddish Orange Beatles Shirt and Maroon Suspenders + Johan = Cayoot!

A 16-year old thought I was 20

Oh come on, you'd be thrilled to be me.

Realizing that it's Friday while singing along to The Cure's Friday, I'm in Love

Happy Johan singing along to appropriately titled songs is happy.

Seeing two men in their twenties giving piggy back rides to each other, laughing
Consider that this place right here is one of the most homophobic places and guy friends barely touch each other. Friendships like that warms the cockles of my heart.

Something Sweet: One Sentence Blog

2010-06-12T12:48:00.000+04:00

I just totally remembered how I spent the last days of the last holiday having nightly Glee marathons with my little brother.

World Cup: One Sentence Blog

2010-06-11T18:16:00.000+04:00

No, I'm one of those sipping their chardonnay or tea, if they don't drink, and smiling a little while shaking their heads and muttering under their breath, "Barbarians!"

Motivation

2010-06-11T11:09:00.001+04:00

It takes a lot of motivations to do whatever you've chosen in life. Well, for me at least. I need to constantly remind myself why am I torturing myself.

Passion: Nope, I totally have no strong feeling in medicine.

Parents: Making them proud is a prominent factor but there's an annoying little voice that keeps on saying that they would be proud of me no matter where I will be.

Helping the Helpless: If you want to help the helpless, you can do so in virtually any line of job. And most of them take less time to learn than medicine.

Money: Money can't by you love, the Beatles said.

No, the pushing factor for me right now, the ultimate motivation, the one that keeps me on the track right now is...

Lifestyle: There are very few other jobs in the world, at least in the beginning, that is absolutely plausible to put aside a quarter of your income for clothes and have your fashion monster adequately sated.

Obsessions

2010-06-09T22:23:00.001+04:00

I get obsessed over something so easily, it's not even funny. Especially TV shows.

Friends.

Scrubs.

That 70s Show.

Happy Days.

Cheers.

Monkees.

Dharma & Greg.

I Dreamed of Jeanie.

Bewitched...

Now: Glee.

More specifically: Glee's Chris Colfer's character, Kurt Hummel.

Even more specific:

Glee's Chris Colfer's character, Kurt Hummel's sailor hat in the season finale. I physically need one.

This obviously doesn't help the unconfirmed rumor that I might be batting for the other team. But fuck it, who cares.

Dance, Johan, Dance!

2010-06-03T21:56:00.001+04:00

There's a lot of things I want to blog about but lately my muse has been adorning the zealot's garments and sounding the battle horn i.e. the things I feel inspired to talk about has been about spirituality.

But I don't want to do that. I don't want this blog to be solely a ground for theophilosophical debate, which I rather enjoy, by the by.

I want to post silly things. I want to post GMH moment things. I want to post disgusting things.

Buuuuuut, at the same time, none of those things apparently generate the same amount of comments nor readership.

Buuuuuut, I plan to go really far in life. Really, REALLY far. Controversial things can come round and bite my arse if I'm not careful.

Buuuuuut, honestly, I enjoy the attention. I'd be a liar to say otherwise.

I am a puppet dancing to the crowds tunes with scissors in my hand.

Do you promise to comment on my non-spiritual posts, my beloved?

Quick Post Before Going to Class

2010-06-01T08:03:00.000+04:00

Tanya Sama Hati

P.Ramlee & Normadiah

Tanya pada pokok, apa sebab goyang

nanti jawab pokok angin yang goncang

tanya sama langit, apa sebab hujan

nanti jawab langit, tanya lah awan

Awan nanti kata, aku kandung air

sampai tempat sejuk, aku pun cair

tengok dalam air, nampak bayang-bayang

campak satu batu, bayang pun hilang

Tanya sama hati, apa asal sayang

apakah tandanya nampak di pandang

kumbang rayu bunga

bulan dan bintangnya

punya tanda-tanda hubungan mesra

Tanya sama hati

pernahkah merindu

ingat masa lena apa mimpimu

masa berjauhan

apa nan dikenang

bila difahamkan itulah sayang

Jikalau tidak kerana sayang

kuntuman kasih tak mungkin kembang

andainya jemu mengganti rindu

jambangan mesra tentulah layu

Tanya sama hati

pernahkah merindu

ingat masa lena apa mimpimu

masa berjauhan

apa nan dikenang

bila difahamkan itulah sayang

itulah sayang

Yet Another One Sentence Blog

2010-05-31T18:23:00.002+04:00

Stop condemning the whole Israel nation to fuckery, goddammit, because it's the Israeli government who is responsible.

Last Post for Today, I Swear.

2010-05-27T22:07:00.002+04:00

Regardless of your thoughts on homosexuality, this is the best family moment I've seen on TV.

Best Glee quote of that episode: Place looks great.

Just Sayin'

2010-05-27T21:52:00.004+04:00

Birthday wishes are cheapened by online social networking. Just sayin'.

Quote

2010-05-27T17:03:00.000+04:00

"So, you're having a conversation with the Great Spirit, the Creator of All Things, and you're doing the talking?"

- Dead Indian George on prayers, Dharma and Greg 3rd Season, Episode 1

Ignorance is Bliss... Except for the Ignored

2010-05-26T01:16:00.004+04:00

"When u attack Black people, theycall it racism. When u attack Jewish people, they call it anti-semetism. When u attack women, they call it sexism.When u attack homosexuality,they call it intolerance. When u attack a Country, theycall it treason.When u attack a religious sect, they call it...hate..But when they...attack the... Prophet Mohammed, they call itfreedom of speech!! (make it your status if you care)" - Facebook status madness.

Today, I will be touching on a sensitive issue. And I will make a point here and now that this is not a religious argument but a social one. Bear with me. Keep your zealotry under your belt till you finish reading this.

The above statement is taking the rather conservative Muslim Facebook community in Volgograd by storm. Every other person of that persuasion, it seems, posted it or a variation of it as their status. Now, I believe in every person's right to voice their opinion and I believe that those posters think their views are right. I'm not saying they're wrong, here, understand?

What I am saying is simply this:

We give power to a problem by recognizing it. Without our acknowledgment, the said problem has no dominance, no presence.

Consider:
According to Islamic history, Muhammad was ridiculed and was hurled all kinds of shits, even literal ones. Did he beat his chest and cry out to his people of the injustice that was done to him? No, he ignored the harassment and this only ignited the fury and frustration of the torturers and increased his prestige and standing amongst believers and non-believers alike.

Consider:
Standing before the Pharisees and Pilate, the Bible says Jesus said no words, replied nothing to the accusations these people threw and confronted him with. His reward: people deified him and vilified the others.

Consider:
King Henry the VIII of England ignored the Pope's decree that his divorce was unlawful. He was threatened with excommunication. Did he care? No. He even went a step further and created the Church of England. As a result, people began to see that there is nothing substantial, at least in the material world, in the Pope's threats and the political power of the Vatican waned to nothingness that it is today.

Consider:
The Germans were fucked up royally politically and economically after the Second World War. The Jews, too, during the said war. Afterward, some of those Jews who had ulterior motives or just didn't know any better played up the Holocaust and the suffering of the Jews. They shouted to all of those who would listen and even some that wouldn't: "Look at us! Pity us! We were done a great injustice!"

A fact, which, by all accounts, is a true statement in my book. But it annoyed people greatly. The Germans, on the other hand, were quiet, accepted their fate and went on with their lives.

Now, see: What is the racial and racist stereotype for Jews? How about Germans? How many anti-Semites are there today compared to anti-Germans? Except for people directly affected by the war, I never heard any anti-Germanism.

If anything, more admired the Germans for their ability to rebuild and become an important player in the game we call World Politics.

Consider:
If the Dane's cartoon was not attacked by the Muslim community, would it not have fallen to obscurity, like so many of its predecessors?

Let me reiterate here that I see the caricature as a sign of utmost disrespect to a person of such high prestige. I disagree with it completely as did the rest of the Muslim community and some of those not of the belief. But we gave power to the cartoon with our death threats.

Others who did not really care about Muhammad joined in with the Dane, they're protecting their right to free speech. More anti-Islamic caricatures and articles went up online and in print in matter of days.

One can view that, ultimately, it was the Muslims, who are responsible for the sharp rise of anti-Mohammedan tendencies in the press after the Dane's initial fuckup.

This has been my unwanted two cents. Good night.

P.s. If one were to argue that the Dane's caricature is a comment on the qualities of contemporary Muslims instead of those of the Prophet, one would have a valid point. After all, among the first reactions were death threats from Muftis all over the world.

P.p.s. This coincide with the 36th Law of Power

Mission: Impossible

2010-05-23T16:34:00.002+04:00

It's easy to pray for someone we love.

It's harder to pray for someone we hate.

It's nigh impossible to pray for someone that we're indifferent to.

So, your mission for the next 365 days is to pray - or if you're an atheist, wish the best - for that someone that is in your life but barely so - the bus conductor, the lunch lady, that stray cat on your street and the old man that feeds it.

Why? Just because.

Losing My Religion

2010-05-13T22:27:00.004+04:00

Basically, it's this: A+B=C

Where,

Situation A is:

You get Psychiatry and Psychology so much because it feeds your need to understand human nature since you were 10 and it's the first path you've ever seriously considered taking. Even if you won't make much money out of it, which is the reason you're in Medicine in the first place.

Situation B is:

You take a rational stance on your spirituality, believing whatever your chosen faith decrees has a logical basis and you try to find those reasons.

Situation C is:

Analyzing those religious figures, be it a prophet, demigod or that talking pile of dog poo, in a rational and secular point of view makes you realize that they all, Muhammad and Buddha and Tinkerbell, fit into the classic profile of a hallucinating schizophrenic.

Situation C can also be:

You realizing you're quite fucked up spiritually.

Dear Sister

2010-05-07T19:00:00.002+04:00

Dear Sister,

I'm on a good writing hiatus. I haven't been able to write anything good for months now. But I feel that I have to give it a go for your birthday.

I'm physically tired, mentally dead and artistically gone, so, don't expect much.

OK, I seriously can't do it.

Let me do this, instead. I'll take one line from each of the songs that appeared on Michael Jackson's Number One album according to the order they appear to convey a birthday message. Or some jumbled-up lines that have no meaning. Michael Jackson because I know you love him, that particular album because that's the only album that I'm willing to listen to on repeat to find good entries for this gift.

Keep on with the force - Don't stop!

Don't try to fight it!

For forty days and for forty nights,

You wanna stay alive, better do what you can.

The funk of forty thousand years

Is just an apple

And angels sing,

So, listen up!

Go on, girl!

That's so carefree!

Okay, I want everybody to clear the area right now,

girl, when the goin' gets mean!

Everyday I sit and ask myself,

"Is there a time

to know that woman?"

You rock my world, you know you did.

Break of dawn, girl, you've got to understand:

I can't stop lovin' you!

So, that's my crappy gift. I know, I know, I owe you a better one.

Since that sucks so much, I'll post a badly photoshopped pic here:

No, I don't have boobs nor cleavage. This is just a picture of my sister with some random friend of hers that was left on the digicam she gave me. I added my head there in case you missed it.

Happy Birthday, Sis.

P.S: You must acknowledge that it's damn hard not to sound incestuous sebab half of MJ's number one hits are about sex.

I Have a Feeling

2010-05-04T22:16:00.000+04:00

That tomorrow's gonna be very jazzy to me. In particular: Swing. Specifically: The Sultana of Scat-singin', Ella Fitzgerald.

And yes, I suck as a writer nowadays.

Another One Sentence Blog

2010-04-24T11:55:00.000+04:00

Is it weird that I felt that 'awww' feeling because it seems to me that my friend feels close enough to me not to feel ashamed when he told me that he'll talk to me later because he's trying to jerk off?

Cool

2010-04-18T12:33:00.001+04:00

Being at the right parties. Drinking the right drinks. Dancing the whole night long.

Is that what being cool means?

Well, yes. That's what being cool means.

Am I cool?

Nope.

Am I okay with that?

You know what, I think I am.

Two-Sentence Blog

2010-04-17T08:26:00.000+04:00

You're not as good as you think you are and people are not as bad as you think they are. I'm just sayin'.

The 48 Laws of Power: Part 1

2010-04-16T00:28:00.000+04:00

This book by Robert Greene has come to my attention of late. It's called, if you haven't guessed it yet, the 48 Laws of Power. Basically, it's a self-help book with a twist: the writer takes an amoral stance.

No, not amoral as in punching babies and choking kittens. That's just wrong and sick! Why would you even think that? You're a sick, sick person! You'd do the world a whole lot of good by checking yourself into a mental institution. Sick, sick person!

Mr R. Greene takes the leave-good-and-evil-out-of-this stance. Like the quote by Honore de Balzac in this book, "There's no good and bad, only circumstances."

A Machiavellian approach, if you will. Jot this down: referring to new facts you've come across on Wiki while researching for your subject makes you sound cool only if people can believe you know stuff about it. Like me, people know I read a lot. So, if I say words like Machiavellian and Homeresque, people would be impressed but at the same time feel a bit emasculated by the fact that they're not really sure what Machiavellian and Homeresque means.In other words, don't overdo it.

I've just read the introductions and the first two chapters but I must say I'm impressed. Don't get me wrong, the first opinion I voiced out when I read through the table of contents was this thing would get you far in life but kill your soul, maaaaaaaan.

I just realized that I haven't said anything about what type of self-help book this is. It's about attaining and maintaining Power in the societal sense i.e. getting ahead in your career, excelling in politics and so on.

Another thing that captivated me about this book is that the margins of this book is filled with quotes and snippets from various figures and fables. To present its ideas, the book uses momentous events in history, factual and, I suspect, mythological but what the hey, the point gets across.

The book's so good and/or I'm so naive that I feel like I must make notes about the points. Problem is Volgograd just doesn't have enough stationery shops. University town, my ass. Seriously, there's not even one stationery shop in walking distance from my alma mater. How is that even possible? I mean, if this was Malaysia, there'd be at least 3 shops around the university building besides the one inside the building, which my university lacks too.

So, since I haven't been writing a lot now, I'll jot the points down here. Not like there's anybody still reading this blog anyway.

Without further ado:

Preface

Master your emotions. It's okay to feel anger or lust or affection but one must master the way one expresses them and never let them influence one's plans and strategies.
Be the two-faced God of Gateways, Janus. Face the future with the motto, "No days unalert." Learn from the past without begrudging others' wrongdoings towards you. That might cloud your judgment.
Masquerade and deception were the privilege of the Gods. Now, it should be your mightiest sword.
Patience is the supreme virtue of the Gods, who have nothing but time. Let it be your shield.
Always take the indirect route to power!

Law #1: Never Outshine the Master

Kiss ass is not bad, indeed you should do it but beware how you do it. Discreet flattery is the weapon of choice.
Make your Master seem more brilliant than you to others. Commit harmless mistakes and let the Master feel superior while helping you. Have a bright idea: attribute it to your Master.
If the need arises to impress him, always show that you're limited in your means, that you're good but the Master is better. Let him be the Sun of radiance and brilliance.
Never, ever, take your position for granted.
If your superior is a falling star, though, do not be merciful. If he is weak, hasten his downfall discreetly. If he is very weak and ready to fall, let nature take its course, do not risk appearing cruel and spiteful.

Law #2: Never Put Too Much Trust in Friends, Learn How to Use Enemies

You don't know your friends as much as you think since we all wear social masks in friendship. Putting your friends in a position of power destroys the friendship and breeds ingratitude and, eventually, betrayal.
Bringing up worthy enemies have its benefits. Sense of gratefulness leads to loyalty and more often than not, your enemies will want to prove themselves to you. Now, you have a competent, loyal employee who will do his best in everything.
Enemies sharpen our wits, keeping us focused and alert. If you have no enemies, create enemies.
To advance, use your friends, preferably close but not too close ones: [1] to do your dirty work. [2] as a scapegoat.

Well, that's it for now. That's all I've read so far. I'll add more when I feel like it. Tata.

Gorno

2010-03-30T19:44:00.002+04:00

What is this fascination with gore that we all, whether we admit it or not, have?

What's with our obsession with observing people's plight, while condemning it verbally or mentally as if assuring ourselves that we're not as sick as these people?

Are we, though?

If we're not, why then do we post these videos on Facebook? Why do we forward those e-mails? Why do we read the court reports?

I myself am not a gorno virgin but, to continue the sexual analogy, I'm more of the high school senior, who had sex a couple of times and probably did very bad at it.

The peak of my gorno experience is that snuff video of the three Ukrainian boys killing the homeless dude. Not an experience I would like to repeat, mind you. And there I go, assuring people and myself that I'm not as sick as these people.

What is it with this sickness?

One Sentence Blog

2010-03-16T08:14:00.000+03:00

Doesn't being hostile towards racists mean you're being prejudiced too?

FuckyouworldImawesome

2010-03-08T21:54:00.000+03:00

That's actually the name of the latest playlist I made. I got inspired to compile this after taking one too many stabs at one of the things I secretly am sensitive about.

Now, I suspect I'm very easily affected by music and maybe I am but seriously, after a week or two listening largely to this playlist, I can honestly say I've never felt this good about myself ever since I hit puberty. Hell, ever since I entered high school, I'd say. I feel like sharing this.

The spearhead of this playlist and, indeed, its avatar must be Beautiful by Christina Aguilera. Other songs sing of saying no more or standing up for who you are/what you believe in or believing that, in the words of Bon Jovi, "Yeah, I'm down but I know I'll get by." Or at least that's my interpretation of some of the songs that don't seem to fit this category.

So, here goes:

Christina Aguilera - Beautiful

Gloria Gaynor - I Will Survive
Chris Colfer - Defying Gravity
Julie Andrews - I Have Confidence In Me
Glee and Journey versions - Don't Stop Believing
Sweetbox - Everything's Gonna be Alright
Glee version of Charlie Chaplin's - Smile
Lighthouse Family - High
Queen - Don't Try Suicide
Queen - Somebody to Love
Queen - We are the Champions
Queen - The Show Must Go On
Mariah Carey - When You Believe
Bon Jovi - Someday I'll be Saturday Night
Hunchback of Notre Dame - Out There
Blues Gang - Apo Nak Dikato
Bob Dylan - Blowin' in the Wind
Bob Marley - Get Up Stand Up
Bob Marley - Redemption Song
Cher - Believe
Des'ree - You Gotta Be
Jason Mraz - The Remedy
Lily Allen - Smile
Matt Costa - Mr. Pitiful
Monty Python - Always Look On the Bright Side of Life
Neil Diamond - I'm a Believer
Nina Simone - Ain't Got No, I Got Life [Groovefinder Remix]
Lion King - Hakuna Matata
Shania Twain - That Don't Impress Me Much
Elvis Costello + Burt Bucharach - I'll Never Fall in Love Again
Survivor - Eye of the Tiger
Zee Avi - I Am Me Once More
Pete Seeger - We Shall Overcome
Bon Jovi - Have A Nice Day
Bon Jovi - We Weren't Born to Follow
Meredith Brooks - Bitch
R Kelly - I Believe I Can Fly

I youtubed that video and realized that the Goth dude and the gay couple was omitted from Malaysian MTV. I find that obscenely hilarious.

Ten Things You Know About Me

2010-03-08T19:03:00.000+03:00

You know what's overrated? # Things You Don't Know About Me. It's everywhere: tv, blogospheres, youtube, facebook, hell, I even saw a rendition of it on Twitter! What is up with that?

Another thing I wanted to blog about but kept on procrastinating is the hatred I have towards the phrase "I know you, Johan."

Well, hatred is not the right word. It's somewhere between amused and annoyed. That's right, I'm ammoyed. Every once in a while, often enough for me not to be caught unguarded, I'd surprise myself. I'd surprise myself with my brilliance, my idiocy, my kindness, my perversion, my misanthropy, my hippiness... Basically, anything.

I do not know myself a hundred percent.

What right have you to say you know me?

My mom just found out that I'm somewhat averse to tom yam. My mom of 24 years and I'm a Momma's Boy, if there ever was one.

Again, what right?

I'm somewhat private. I divide my life into categories and everyone fits nicely into their own categories. Some might belong in more than one group, if they're lucky. Hell, two out of my three housemates don't even know I've been attending the gym for the last, what? 4, 5 months? Though, I think they have a vague idea about it.

I have friends whom I do silly stuff with. I have friends with whom I argue philosophical points of views about everything. I have friends to go watch stupid movies together. I sound like I have a lot of friends. I don't. I have very few friends, comparatively.

So... yeah... Things You Don't Know About Me. It's such a tired concept, isn't it? And vain too. Like people want to know about your nasty no-longer-secret fetish with strawberry jam.

I say, let's start a new thing. Start posting Things You Know About Me.

There's only one Rule:

Nothing obvious physically as in I have a nose! I've got a penis!

You see how I made the Rule so ominous and daunting by using a capital letter? The Rule! You see, you can't use all capital letters, like RULE, because that just seems retarded and uncouth because you're randomly shouting a word. No, just the first letter would do nicely. Write that down.

So, we segue back into my Ten Things You Know About Me. See there? It's all daunty and ominousy now.

Ten Things You Know About Me
1. I think people view me as vaguely Muslim. Their interpretation, not mine. Also, the word vague sounds so dirty to me right now.

2. I've declared myself to be not a homosexual, not a heterosexual. I'm an autosexual. I think I'm vain enough to want to tap that, meaning myself.

3. I'm quite generous when it comes to money and people I consider as my friends. I probably won't ask for that tenner you borrowed unless I am really desperate.

4. I'm a dork. Geek. Nerd. I could play computer games all day and read fantasy and know quite a bit about computer stuff. See, I'm so generous that I gave you 7 in one.

5. I don't party. Mainly because I don't know how to dance and I find clubbers look silly when they dance. Also, refer to point 4.

6. I do not actually abhor sports, though I say so. I can watch and comment on most sporting events. What I abhor are those really, really fanatic fans.

7. I'm very easily irritated. If you see me giving a fake smile, I'm irritated. If I do not answer you straight away, I'm irritated. If you smell, I'm irritated.

8. I'm in infatuation with the Link girls. I find them adorable to the point of giggling uncontrollably like a little school girl.

9. I'm in love with music. I have different playlists for different moods. Hell, if something pisses me off while I'm listening to my walkman, I actually take the time to change the playlist to my angry playlist.

10. I think people think I'm confident.

So, yeah. Ten things you know about me. Nothing new, right? So, Pikachu, I tag you. Do it.

P.S.: Oh, and if you decide to do this in your blog/facebook account/twitter/anywhere, leave a link in the comment.
P.P.S: It would really make my year if somebody would buy this for me.

Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa

2010-03-07T19:08:00.002+03:00

This fills me with great hopes for the Malaysian movie scene. But I just now they're gonna get dashed. Prove me wrong, KRU.

Anybody has any info about this movie? Comment!

Rant?

2010-03-01T18:09:00.001+03:00

I haven't ranted in a long, long time. Time to break the rant-fast, I think.

Why do people reply with a smiley? I mean, I am neither for or against the usage of smileys. I do it myself to an auto-annoyance level.

And, yes, I do admit there are times when it is appropriate to use a single smiley as an answer:

Exhibit A
Dudette: Eh, how you walk around the house if they always Hunt Mouse with Electrical Traps?
Me: =.=

But when every random thing is answered with a smiley, often unrelated to the prior question/sentence, there's only one word that comes to mind: wtf?

Exhibit B
Dude: Bust a Move
Me: Mr Schue?
Dude: :P

Exhibit C
Me: Wah you going on a video streak, ah?
Dude: :)

Me in both instances: wtf?

Are you happy when I ask that? Are you so angry that I cracked where you got that quote that you stick out your tongue? What, man? What?

This rant is weak. I'm all out of shape, haih. I need to be bitter again.

Pragulka

2010-02-28T21:19:00.001+03:00

I have two things I'd like to share today. Two very, very unrelated things. Let me try to do this. Let me try to connect the two things.

Thing One.

Russians do this thing that I find very interesting. What they do is get together with a couple of friends, of either sex, and go out for a walk in the park. They'll find a bench and just sit and talk. Maybe have a couple of cold ones while they're at it but that's the gist of it. They sit and talk.

Weird, isn't it?

They sit and talk. In parks.

And they are not necessarily lovers, either. A few perfectly sound of mind, heterosexual or platonically homosexual, men or women or both parks their milkshakes-that-brings-all-the-boys-to-the-yard onto a metal - or wooden, for that matter- bench and just crap their ass off all day.

Not weird?

Think of all the hundreds of thousands of times you hang out with your friends, you Malaysians. We have to be doing some activities, be it bowling or hiking or shopping, to hang out with these friends. The closest we get to this pragulka, as they call it, is us hanging out at mamak stalls, where, indeed we can sit for hours and crap our ass off but while doing so, we stuff ourselves with unhealthy snacks and oversweetened beverages.

Hell, nowadays, a circle of friends of mine doesn't even do that. We'd sit, yes. We'd talk, oh yes. But sooner or later, someone will bring out a deck of cards and I'm forced to join them in taiti, that chinese poker thing. I can only hold out by saying that I don't know how to play for so long. If I don't join them, they'd be uncomfortable, feeling that they're not including me in their activity.

Why can't we be like these Russians?

We've forgotten how to just hang out with our companions; how to revel in the presence of our loved ones; how to share the little details that, seriously, nobody cares about.

What happened to being happy just to spend time with friends?

Ooooh, this is quite long, so, I'll postpone the second thing to a later date.

See ya, my lovelies.

...

No, I cannot pull that off, can I? My lovelies? What the fuck was that? I feel like Phoebe in that episode when she was sick and sound super sexxxay.

Holy Shit! New Post!

2010-02-28T09:35:00.002+03:00

Blames. I've got plenty of that. So, that's a gajillion to you, Twitter. A bajillion to my non-existent Muse. Twenty mega-watts of it to the absolutely non-demanding cycle. But the bulk of the blame goes to the lack of drama in my life.

Yes, a good writer should always have drama in his life, as to fuel him with inspiration. Don't tell me otherwise, shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

Gah! I need to write more. I used to be able to write about nothing and people will still read it. I once wrote a 400-word debut article for some online paper about how I was deciding on what to write as my first article. I found it quite brilliant, though other creative forces on the team weren't as awed by it as I was. Oh well.

New New Year's Resolution: Once a week. I'll write once a week.

As I have no real substance to write on, I'll leave you with a nice song.

I Thought You Were My Boyfriend - Magnetic Fields

Yes, that's a guy singing. No, I don't watch the office. No, that doesn't make me gay.

The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny

2010-02-16T20:55:00.000+03:00

For the whole of the last week till this moment, my pride in calling myself a Malaysian was renewed.

Yes, we have fucked up politicians and politics.

Yes, we have screwball theologians and theologies.

And yes, the fatness of our city rats, both literal and proverbial, disgusts the living hell out of me.

But the week leading up to the 14th of February 2010 filled me with nothing but pride.

It was the Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny, as Neil Cicierega would say. The Eastern Metal Tiger was up against the Western Homicidal Flying Baby.

Just imagine.

A ring where the two combatants fight, thirsty for each other's blood. Metal Tiger, equipped with nought but its claws and fangs, pacing the arena. Its eyes never left the smug look on Homicidal Baby's face. Its throat thirsts for Homicidal Baby's blood.

Homicidal Baby is not worried. He can fly. To counter Metal Tiger's primitive claws, he has the all-new and latest equipments of Archery. Why, he could fly to dizzying height and rain death upon the silly feline. He could zip around the tiger, tiring it before delivering the coup de grace. He could...

... be Metal Tiger's dinner. In fact, now, he is.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, lords and dames, children of all ages, Oriental Imperialism trumped over Western Imperialism this year!

All over Malaysia, the malls were bathed in Red, the symbol of prosperity and, I imagine, the blood of the dead baby. People were deafened by the Dong Dong Dong Chang, instead of being fatally nauseated by over-sweetness of cliche love songs.

In short, we won.

Congratulations, Malaysians. You make me proud.

Johan Ariff Bin Juhari is leaving on a jet-plane. Well, first on a train, then on the express train, then on a jet-plane... well, technically, not a jet-plane, rather a boeing 777. So, yeah... He's leaving on a train, then on the express tram, then on a boeing 777, don't know when he'll be back again. Oh, babe, he hates to go... Except, no, he doesn't hate to go.

2010-01-23T00:17:00.005+03:00

The title says it all.

Malaysian internet sucks and I don't know if my new place has internet or not. So, here's something to remember me by until I get back.

Goodbye bitches.

P.S.: Much love to people who leaves a comment saying how they like Konstantin Vasilyevich, my new hat, and Anton Bulgakov, my designer scarf from MTJ [Makcik Tepi Jalan]

Post-post-script: I look super thin because blogspot compressed the pic. Thanks, blogspot! I'll post a sexy pic of me if enough people leave a comment on how thin I look.

P.P.P.S: I am having such a Shane Dawson moment for asking people to leave comments. I think I'm gonna be depressed if no one leaves a comment. Leave a comment if you don't want me to get depressed.

P.P.P.P.PMS: I've edited this like 5 times. Comment on what you think about my anal-loving anal-retentiveness!

How Stalin Actually Defeated the Nazi

2010-01-17T18:04:00.004+03:00

Crazy Russians

_____________________________________

Added:

You know, just when I start to have good perception on Russians, the bad apples have to show themselves more than the normal people.

My kitchen window is the target for batting and throwing practice for racist schoolboys. Almost every night they throw snowballs or use some stick to hit the window. Thank God for grills. And not really boys too. If 10 year old bastards were doing this, I can understand, but these are teenagers.

Dude, if you wanna show you're a big shot, come and hit us.

And just now, trying to take out my garbage in -20 weather in only a sweater, the garbage man said that this is not the place to throw garbage AS he was picking up garbage bins. He in his thick dusty winter wear was arguing with me, who was shivering because I've got only a sweater on. He absolutely refused to take my two medium plastic bags of trash.

Not wanting to cause trouble, I turn back toward my apartment. The bloody bastard just had to say, "I'm watching you if you return!"

I mean, what the flying fuck, man?

P.S. I know this post sucks but it's 7.54 am and I still haven't slept and my housemates are all sleeping, so, I can't vent.

P.P.S. But to be fair, the garbage man wasn't being racist. Some Russians just have the need to feel superior over other people, even among themselves. I don't know why, maybe it's the socialist upbringing. Most Russians don't, though. Most Russians are pleasant, albeit cold at first. Only those who work in the service industry. Maybe they feel inferior because their job by definition is providing service to others. Maybe, it's the need to show You're-not-the-boss-of-me! Like Malaysian government workers. Hmm, maybe that's it.

Law of Gaga

2010-01-12T17:59:00.001+03:00

I don't know why but this equation is beyond my understanding.

Who is this Lady Gaga?

What's so special about her?

Why am I nodding, tapping my foot, doing a little shoulder dance to the beat?

Why is the rice taking too long to cook?

Secrets more mysterious and important than the meaning of life itself.

011110: Palindrome Day

2010-01-11T16:28:00.000+03:00

I've got a First today.

A naked man touched a naked me.

Here.

Don't ask why.

I'm not sure how I feel about that.

A big thing considering I grew up in a society where I get lip for wearing knee-revealing shorts.

Codename: Konspirasi Yahudi

2010-01-08T09:07:00.003+03:00

I would like to apologize on the behalf of Muslims all over the world over the burning of the Metro Tabernacle church and the attempted arson of the Assumption Church. I know this doesn't cut it but we are totally with you in thinking the arsonists are arseholes.

I for one demand Qisas, the Muslim version of the biblical an-eye-for-an-eye. No, not burn a mosque down. That's stupid, mosques aren't the culprit here. No, we should capture these arsonists. Burn their asses. On national TV.

Malaysian Muslims are almost lethally undereducated when it comes to religions in general, their own or otherwise.

Malay Muslims think that drinking Holy Water, which is apparently made by sacrificing the bastard children of priests and nuns, by the way, will magically make them not be able to recite the Syahadah.

Malay Muslims think that the Hindu worships cows. Hinduism does not advocate the worshipping of cows. Rather, she venerates them like she venerates mothers.

Malay Muslims think, now this is the most famous and stupidest one, that Jews have nothing better to do in their lives other than conspire the fall of the Muslims.

This Konspirasi Yahudi is the explanation to everything, it seems. Israel-Palestinian war? Yahudi. America's bloodthirsty international policy? Yahudi. Malaysia's '98 economic crisis? Yahudi. 9/11? Duh, of course Yahudi. I think some of them actually blamed the Jews for sugar shortage in Malaysia.

I mean, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it's a Konspirasi Yahudi that made Malay Muslims blame everything on the Jews to appear stupid, uneducated and violent.

Malay Muslims are bringing themselves down. A sad fact but there it is. Not all of us are that ignorant and obtuse, of course, but like it or not, the majority of us ARE.

Violence, wasting money and energy, all these bad emotions over something as trivial as a name. And not even a proper name, at that. You are embarrassing and embarrassing others, man.

A friend of mine told me it's fine for me to hold my stand because I know that a name is only a name. Most of the rest is an uneducated bunch.

Why not channel all those anger and energy and bad mojo into doing something productive? Like educate these ignorami?

Ignorance, I say, is forgivable but Obstinacy, however, is not. We live in the age of Internet. Knowledge is a click away. There is no excuse that you are this ignorant. It should be a sin to be this ignorant in the age of Internet.

Konspirasi Yahudi indeed.

EDIT:
Two songs that represent my feelings on this matter:

I seem to like Lily Allen now.

Good Times Never Seem So Good!

2009-12-17T16:34:00.001+03:00

I was fucked up royally. Things looked bleak. Around me winds were howling like ravenous wolves. My inappropriate semi-formal shoes were lost underneath the virgin snow. My wet hair was frozen in a matter of seconds after going out into the cold.

This is what I did. I sang this song:

Sweet Caroline

Where it began,

I can't begin to knowin',

But then I know it's growing strong.

Was in the spring,

And spring became a summer,

Who'd have believed you'd come along?

Hand,

Touchin' hands,

Reaching out,

Touchin' me,

Touchin' you

Sweet Caroline,

Good times never seem so good!

I've been inclined,

To believe they never would,

But now I...

Look at the night,

And it don't seem so lonely,

We fill it up with only two.

And when I hurt,

Hurtin' runs off my shoulders,

How can I hurt when I'm with you?

Warm,

Touching warm,

Reaching out,

Touchin' me,

Touchin' you!

Sweet Caroline,

Good times never seem so good!

I've been inclined,

To believe they never would,

Oh no, no, no...

Sweet Caroline,

Good times never seem so good!

Sweet Caroline,

I believed they never could...

Sweet Caroline...

And just because I am in a Glee obsession now, I'll add this video:

Wise Man of the Mountain moment #324

2009-12-16T22:53:00.000+03:00

Why is it that you are more susceptible to art, whether creating them or appreciating them, when you are emotionally unstable or physically spent?

Don't trust me? Try writing when you're mad. Try watching a musical performance when every fiber in your body wants nothing to do but recuperate. Feel that buzz of awe go through you. Feel your heartbeat as you pour your emotion into your creation.

Yes, I am wise.

An Open Letter to Religious People

2009-12-14T17:14:00.000+03:00

Dear religious people,

Stop it. It's annoying and creepy. I mean, love Jesus/Ahura Mazda/Jah Rastafari all you want, man, but you don't need to flaunt it. You look fake. You look like you're trying to convince yourself. It snowed today, thank you Allah? Tell that to the homeless. Nobody realized I farted in the lift just now, Jesus really shone his light on me today? Tell that to the guy they blamed it on. It IS up to you to believe that Jesus favored you, that's why your gaseous assassin wasn't pinned on you but come on, don't tell everyone you meet that! Stop trying to put God in every conversation. He's capable of doing that, thank you very much. This is taking thy Lord's name in vain, believe me.

Sincerely,
Johan Going-to-Hell Ariff.

Letter to the Fucking Racists

2009-12-07T23:25:00.003+03:00

We had an Election for the MSA a few days ago.

A non-Malay was chosen as the president, and rightly so for he is the best man for the job.

So, we Malays received an sms roughly saying, "How can a Muslim turn your back on your Muslim brother? How can you vote for a non-Muslim?"

Here's my reply:

Dear Fucking Racists,
We chose solely on the basis of competence. We are of the opinion that our Muslim brother is not as competent as our non-Malay brother.
If we have the choice between Yasser Arafat and Gandhi to fight for our independence, we'd choose Gandhi. If we have to choose between Mahathir Mohammed and the Thai King to speak out against America, we'll choose Mahathir. Not because Mahathir's a Muslim. It's because he's competent in this.
So, Mr. Racists, you can go fuck yourselves upside down and all around.
With much love,
Johan Ariff bin Juhari.

Degrees

2009-12-07T13:27:00.000+03:00

A friend is a person who has one or more same interest with you.
A good friend is a person who feigns interest in your interests.
A great friend is a person who tries to have an interest in your interests.

Oh and Volgogradians telah membuat Undian Paling Bijak, indeed. First step of world domination: check!

Johan Ariff bin Juhari: Undian Paling Bijak

2009-12-03T16:16:00.005+03:00

Tomorrow's election day for the local Malaysian Students' Association. [MSA]

I'm running for the post Media Director.

I misunderstood that I had to write a manifesto but was corrected by the EC members. Thank god, I don't know what the hell is a manifesto. I thought it was one of those, "membangunkan pelajar-pelajar Malaysia di bumi Volgograd" thing but honestly, if I ever say that, that's a load of bullcrap. Sorry Maher. Haha.

Formally, the job is "to manage MSA blog and spread any info about activites of the organisation". In layman's term, that means the guy voted to be the director has to go around town spreading the latest news and gossips released by the MSA. See, why I'd be perfect for the job?

If you don't know me that well enough, well, let me tell you, then:

I own and actively wear a bow tie. Yes, it's a clip-on, I'm looking for the need-to-tie one but I've not seen one here D=

I have every one of Beatles studio albums

I have experience writing for mass media:

My writing has been published in three separate issues of NST's now defunct YouthQuake;
I have been to journalism workshops;
I have covered one or two events for Volgograd's own Wassup!;
I was regularly writing for the Volgograd Times before it started to hibernate.

I, for one, want the post and will try to do my best to keep the MSA blog updated, if the Powers-That-Be allows me to. I mean, come on, the latest post on that blog is the schedule for the winter games of 2008. COME ON!

Most Volgogradians know me as Facebook Moderator and/or CNN. You can imagine how much of facts I get across, no?

I am not associated to any groups in and outside Volgograd. I do not have any other obligation that could and would interfere with my obligation to the MSA.

My name is in the Kelab UMNO Volgograd but I attend only the makan-makan part.

Similarly, apparently, every Malay in Volgograd has an Usrah group but I only know that because Fairuz said we're in the same Usrah. I don't know my other Usrah-mates.

The Russian medium kids has always been the last to know about anything and since I'm one of them, I'll make sure any word about any event will reach each and everyone of them. All 5 of them.

And let's face it. I'm the only candidate for ANY post who gives a damn and campaigns.

I look dashing.

I really do.

Umm... Did I mention I have all Beatles' albums?

So, come out, Volgogradians, and vote for Johan Ariff bin Juhari: Undian Paling Bijak for the post of Media Director. If you're going to vote for someone else for the post, sit tightly at home.

I wanted to add a waving Malaysian Flag for the background but I don't know how to Photoshop.

Free Will, Predetermination and Foreknowledge

2009-12-02T00:58:00.004+03:00

It's 1am.

Theology disturbs me.

If one has Free Will, one sets the future for oneself.

If Predetermination exists, one's future is already set long before one could choose.

The fundamental flaw in religions, some might say, for Free Will and Predetermination cannot exist together. No matter what traditional religious teachers tell you, one concept is always stronger than the other.

I believe I took a third stand on the matter.

I don't believe in Predetermination but rather Divine Foreknowledge. Might sound the same but my interpretation is different.

Predetermination means everything that will happen has been set: when one blinks, when a butterfly flaps its wings, where would the sun be when a speck of dust finally touches down.

Foreknowledge, on the other hand, according to me, means Knowledge of the consequence of every action: what will happen if one kills a man or save his life, the knowledge of the different futures if one starts his day with his right foot and then later chose to give his seat to an old woman, rather than starting with his left foot and giving his seat or starting with his left foot and not giving up his seat or starting with his right foot but not giving up his space.

To me, Foreknowledge is more compatible with Free Will compared to Predetermination. Predetermination and Free Will generate the answers, "I am not wise enough to explain." and/or, "Only God knows/Because God wills it so."

The Foreknowledge and Free Will combo churns out, "Well, why do YOU watch teledramas, then?"

Vague

2009-11-26T20:37:00.004+03:00

We didn't do something we usually do this time. I fear bad times are coming upon us, nay, swooping down upon us. And as Alistair said, swooping... is... bad....

2009-11-23T14:11:00.003+03:00

It's early morning. You're sitting in the bus. There are two white lines falling so carelessly from your ears for the band that's playing inside your head. It's early morning. People are talking, trading facts sworn to secrecy. It's early morning. You're in a bus. You can't fall asleep, you'll miss your stop. You're bored. It's early morning.

This is what I do.

You can't read lips. It's one of those things you've always wanted to learn but did nothing about. What you can see, with the class act performing between your ears, is their mouths shutting and opening like goldfish in a bowl.

This is what I imagine.

You put the lyrics of the song you're listening to into their mouth.

Go on.

Try it.

What you get is an old man saying lovingly to his dear wife, "Mama, we're all gonna die! Mama, we're meant for the flies! Stop asking me questions I hate to see you cry. Mama, we're all gonna die!"

See the lady conductor arguing with a commuter in Bob Tutupoly's voice, "Hello dear, what can I do for you?"
And the burly commuter, replying through his nose, "Will you go and swing along tonight?"

The boy looking at the general direction of a girl and this song plays, "I can't live.... If living is without you..." and instantly that blank look seems to be a longing of a desperate heart.

This doesn't enrich your soul or anything. It's just good ol' clean fun.

So What If My Shoes Are Made in Gombak?

2009-11-16T18:02:00.003+03:00

Apa salahnya pakai kasut Gombak?

Those, who are too young to remember this ad, has nothing at all in common with me.

So what if I still feel the inspired every time I rewatch Dead Poets' Society?

And so what if Cake's Italian Leather Sofa makes me giggle during the chorus?

And so what if Spider Jerusalem fires up my journalistic meatgun?

Like my father said, follow people la, people's life [Ikut orang la, hidup orang]

Wise man, my father.

Politics

2009-10-28T14:32:00.006+03:00

Oh, how we dance
how we laugh spuriously
beneath the Bella Luna
and the smug stars

Oh how we know
the hiding places
and the hidden things
how we turn our eyes blind

Dance, my love, dance
For 'tis a lethal move we make
A honeyed word cure all ails
A bare thrust ends all life

Oh how we dance
Oh how we laugh
Oh how we cry
Oh how we die

Oh how we danced!

I need a break

2009-10-14T22:19:00.002+04:00

I'm stressed, depressed, possessed.

Screw you, I hate you.

This Place is So Dead.

2009-10-13T18:05:00.002+04:00

The only Zombie movie that I thoroughly enjoy. From the beginning to the end. It didn't fall to the classic falls of comedies and horror films. No in depth explanation of how a virus created by some evil corporation affect the central nervous system and so on. No "and they live happily ever after..." or "...and unbeknownst to them..." ending. Oh and god, there's no messiah storyline either.

I get very irritated with the whole one man can change the future notion. And talking about messiahs, I get irritated with ThankYouJesusForMakingMeChangeMyDiapers Facebook status updates. They almost irritate me as much as InsafInsafLahJohan speeches. Yes, we get that you love Jesus very much but we don't care really if you're under His wings or up His nostrils or between His toes, now, do we? Why did I ever added them to my Facebook? And how about those friends who are dear to you but takes EVERY SINGLE quiz and post EVERY SINGLE results? My God, Facebook is contributing to my daily stress intake.

Back to the movie. Nerd dude, aptly so - doesn't overdo nor underplay the nerddom, is one of the last people in America who's not a zombie. Travels towards his home, met redneck dude, travel around and meet up two girls. There's no real storyline, really. Just a theme: Survive a post-apocalyptic zombie world.

Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg are great as their characters. I mean, who can still look like a bad ass while holding a banjo? The girls less so but still enjoyable. And the movie is filled with great quotes.

I mean:

"The fatties were the first to go."

"I'm not easy to get along with and I'm sensing that you're a bit of a bitch."

Or my personal favourite:

"Are you some type of cock blocking robot developed in some secret fucking government lab?"

Kudos, script writers.

In short, go watch this movie. Even if you hate zombie movies like I do. ESPECIALLY if you hate zombie movies like I do.

You Know How I Feel

2009-10-09T22:28:00.003+04:00

It's been a while since I posted a song to sing-a-long to. I was torn between signore Bublé's and Miss Simone's. In the end, I had to lean towards the Italian Canadian because I've been in a brassy mood for the past few weeks.

Muse's version receives an honorary WTF?!?!?! from me.

Birds flying high
You know how I feel
Sun in the sky
You know how I feel
Reeds driftin' on by
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

Fish in the sea
You know how I feel
River running free
You know how I feel
Blossom in the tree
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me
And I'm feeling good

Dragonfly out in the sun you know what I mean, don't you know
Butterflies all havin' fun you know what I mean
Sleep in peace when the day is done, that's what I mean
And this old world is a new world
And a bold world
For me
Fooor me

Stars when you shine
You know how I feel
Scent of the pine
You know how I feel
Yeah freedom is mine
And I know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
hu
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life

It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
It's a new life
For me

And I'm feeling good

Peer Bloody Pressure

2009-10-04T23:23:00.003+04:00

I'm waiting for Old Yeller to finish torrenting, so I'll crap a bit here.

You know what bugs me? Peer Pressure.

Peer Pressure bugs me to no end. And the worst kind of Peer Pressure is when the Peers succeed in Pressuring you until you don't even realize that it was Peer Pressure.

I was at the Malaysian students' Raya celebration thingy just now. There was a rather friendly girl, newly arrived, still laughing out loud, still retorting to my comments. Somebody you'd like to be friends with, in short.

Then a friend asked me whether I noticed the free-haired girl, that is to say, the Malay girl not wearing a tudung/hijab.

I told him I hate that term, free-hair, but yes, I did notice her.

He then proceeded to say that it's a pity that the girl's going to be brainwashed into one of them.

And I couldn't agree with him more.

Someone I would have once described as a friend turned from a rather bubbly free-hair, unafraid of making jokes and hanging out in a guy's room into a one-syllable freak who's always smiling insincerely at everything and, of course, the free-hair had to go.

Now, some might say this is an improvement. I would argue that point. If the girl herself took the initiative to go down that path, I'd say, "You go, girl!". But the problem in case is that it's damn obvious that it's peer pressure.

Thank you, peer pressure. You made me lost a friend.

Mah Mama Tole Me... or Kawan-kawan Melayu Aku

2009-10-01T23:49:00.003+04:00

Mom actually told me once to be friends with budak jahat; you know, those who play hooky, smoke, untuck their school shirt - remember that it was a great act of rebellion back in the day - and do generally unpleasant things for atttention/love/to look cool.

Well, kalau tak kawan dengan budak jahat, sapa nak kawan ngan budak jahat? Kesian budak jahat.

When one reaches late-teenhood/young-adulthood, in any remotely religious community, the term bad people would be almost synonymous with sinners. Well, at least among certain people I grew up with, the terms are similar in meaning.

I like being friends with budak jahat/sinners. You know, those Malays who drink, get laid, party like, as the Orsons say, there's no tomorrow, get stoned and do other socially unacceptable acts in the Malay ideology.

Generally, I find them more sociable. They aren't judgmental, they're mostly friendly, they're usually entertaining.

And generally, I find them more god-fearing than your average bible/quran-thumpers. They have that sense of guilt doing things they consider as sinful. The budak baiks just sin and don't realize they're doing it.

I sadly don't fall in both categories, neither the fun guilt-ridden budak jahats, nor the sure self-righteous budak baiks. It's no fun being in the middle, the budak jahats don't want to corrupt you but the budak baiks condemn you.

I have very few outright budak baik friends, mostly because I avoid them like the plague and vice versa. I have a lot of self-denying budak baik friends, who, credit where credit's due, try their hardest to tear themselves from the vices of the budak baiks. Very few of my friends are on the moral neutral ground like me and much fewer than I prefer are those who fall in the budak jahat category. I do have one or two budak baik friends who are not judgmental but they're anomalies.

My budak jahat acquaintances need to stop worrying that they'll corrupt me.

But then again, me separating people into the budak jahat/budak baik categories is pretty damn budak baik of me, isn't it?

Damn.

Winter Depression: the Theatrical Trailer

2009-09-29T07:16:00.003+04:00

A friend of mine posted this piece of crêpe:

"Remember when you first fully understand and appreciate the meaning of Hari Raya? You wanted to be the first to arrive at the mosque, you wanted to takbir the loudest, you wanted to collect the most duit raya, you wanted to visit as many house as you could. But now, when you've grown up, what was special has now become a routinised ritual, which in turn becomes something ordinary.

I think 4 years spending Raya overseas has killed my joy for Raya. I am now officially the Scrooge of Raya."

Damn him and his insightful, albeit bleak, observation.

Raya in Kelantan has always been a joyful occasion for me. What with the ketupat making and the bunga api playing and the duit raya getting...

Now, after 6 years of idealizing Raya in Kelantan, there's a nagging voice at the back of my head saying that Raya in Kelantan sucks now.

I've never gotten along all that well with my fathers' side. Plus, forget the fact that I've not met some cousins for the last 6 years and judging from photos, I wouldn't recognize them if I met them on the streets, I get new relatives EVERY year, that, honestly, I'm not sure how many of them there are. My mom's side's, my preferred side's in shambles after my grandma passed away. Petty squabbles over childish things.

What is there to look forward to every Raya nowadays, then? Stranger-cousins or being utterly alone in a huge house?

Yesterday, I was talking to Pervoner and had to admit the bitter truth that people do change. Subtly, but surely. And 6 years in Russia, I missed out on the important parts. It's like I know Windows through XP but now with Vista, the little differences confuse me and I wish I could have XP again. Yes, I'm a geek.

It doesn't help that there're very few people, almost none, here that I could and want to hang out with if we have the time. There's something about Subang that makes us different, methinks. I'm not saying that Subang kids better than the rest of you, no, but different takes on the same issues make a very stressful conversation.

The saddest of cases is when we grow apart, despite all the hard work we did to maintain the relationship.

So, I propose that we raise our proverbial glasses in toast for friendships lost and idealization of the past. Che-fucken'-ers.

Randomness

2009-09-21T23:00:00.003+04:00

The real reason I post random thoughts entries is because I'm having a meracau-ADD-like state of mind that I can't elaborate on things I want to say. So, as they say in the earliest of books, hey-ho let's go:

In the beginning was the Word. Rhythm came soon after.

Eloping, in my opinion, is a vain attempt at cheating God. So is bashing people's head in with maces and clubs.

Pigs are as sacred to me as every other living beings, and I'm a Muslim.

I start to remember why I skip our weekly yum cha in favor of Survivor

I just watched Sepet for the first time.

One of the main reasons Malaysian movies don't sell themselves, in my honest opinion, is that the dialogues sound so artificial that it's laughable. Something like Obsessed.

I started to realize how big a loss Yasmin Ahmad is.

I don't ge why people get so miffed when I said I like that khunsa/hermaphrodite but they don't bat an eyelid when I say I hate that guy/girl.

I really feel the urge to start to pray. And no, not because nanti banyak dosa masuk neraka. Fuck dosa, fuck pahala, fuck syurga, fuck neraka. The only reason I write this here is so that I am forced to act rather than procrastinate, though I do that so well.

I think too much of myself. I am usually right, though.

I have to change some things, be it the position of my bed or the style of my clothes, in my life so often that I'm fairly convinced it's pathological.

I'd like to post a post one day in pure conversational malay that doesn't sound awkward.

This is a random picture.

I think that's enough for now.

Obligatory Raya Post

2009-09-20T17:48:00.004+04:00

It's Raya. I'm Malay. Therefore, by the unwritten law which governs us all, I have to write something about Raya, or at least its spirit.

...
...
...

As you can see the bloody Block is still around. So, I'm gonna just type this out as I think. Get ready for a trip into a Fuzzy mind. Jeng jeng jeng!

...
...
...

Yes, the jeng jeng jeng is rather cliche.

Raya, raya... Duh, of course, Family. Family equals to relationship. Relationship equals to people asking me when I'm getting a partner. For two years I've been using the term Aseksual. Today, I've unwittingly discovered a new phrase that I can use. Takde nafsu. Yes, cry your hearts out, ladies, Monsieur Johan takde nafsu. Stop trying to matchmake, ye nosy basterds. Yes, with an e.

Here's a raya giraffe for you.

Raya also means forgiveness. Reconciliation. How I wish certain people would just forget the petty squabbles and realize that there are more to life than those tiny stupid things. Make my future Raya fun, people. The world revolves around me, why isn't it doing the things I want to do? Bloody world.

Dr Mufti Perlis, who isn't the mufti anymore but still, that's how I'm gonna refer to him because I can't remember his name, wrote a nice article on how people should focus on the bright side of Raya instead of the sad part. I'll do that once Raya is a happy event again.

But because Dr Mufti Perlis said that, I'm gonna end this post in a less bitter note.

...
...
...

Uh
...
...
...

Sugar.

2009-09-17T21:22:00.003+04:00

I want to write.

No, that's not entirely true.

I don't want to write. I NEED to write. My scribal meat gun is jonesing for some action.

Bloody writers' block.

Four, Five

2009-08-27T07:48:00.004+04:00

I find it extremely ironic that the person I tried to cut off last year turned out to be one of the people I trust most.

Doubly ironic, even, because the person I tried my best to keep in touch with turned out to be quite the disappointment.

Judge not a book by its cover? Judge not a book by its first few chapters, I think.

Vow

2009-08-23T02:37:00.003+04:00

One of the earliest vows that I've ever made was this:

I shall contribute something big to the world or else become a supervillain.

Well, there were other vows and pledges before that one. How I'd stop talking to my sisters or my father because I didn't get what I wanted. How I'd run away from home the next time Mom would scold me. But these were petty promises that were forgotten almost as soon as they are made.

The being a hero or a supervillain thing I made with such conviction that the same feelings stir in me in recalling as it did when I first made that vow. It had, and maybe has, weight.

I was a rather morbid child.

I remember sitting in the gray armchair in my grandfather's living room, planning to wear all black and get a hunch in my posture and have a bleak outlook on life when I grow up because evil scheming goths seemed cool to me back then.

More than a few times when I cried back then, whether from being denied of treats or scolded for something that was not my fault, I wished that I'd die just to see the regret on their faces.

There was no incident that preceded the vow, though. In hindsight, that's probably what made it memorable. It was the first time that I had an Original Thought. I remember that I was mulling over the thought over and over before deciding that I will contribute something big or become a supervillain. The promise was definitely made before I was 9, hell, maybe even before I became a schoolboy.

It was not until mere minutes earlier when I was finishing Tuesdays with Morrie that I realized the reason why I made that pledge.

I was, and am, afraid that after I die, nobody would remember me.

Not such a childish thought, isn't it, aspiring to be a supervillain?

Windy Long-winding Windbag

2009-08-18T18:55:00.003+04:00

I talk a lot.

No, seriously, a lot. I can see how some of you would roll your eyes and say, "Oh, I talk a lot too."

Sometimes, on our many trips back to Kelantan, I'd talk to my dad from the moment we leave Subang until we reach our destination. And this was back when such trips would take around 8 hours.

The only person I know who talks more than me would be Ms Aimi Syazana, who would silent Rory Gilmore with awe.

Some of the people I know would sometimes ejaculate, "GET TO THE POINT!" in the middle of narration.

One - that is very rude.

Two - Consider this:

GTTP version:
This morning I stumbled and fell when I was walking up the stairs.

Johan Ultimately and Infinitely Superior Version:
Eh, you know what happened or not? Walao weh. Damn bad luck one. This morning ah I was at the university la. I got Russian class. So, you know la the stairs at the university how, break here break there. I also bloody clumsy one what. To make matters worse, I woke up late this morning. Serious bad luck la. So, obviously I was running up the bloody stairs la. Thank god no one was around also. Ya la, so early where got people in uni what. If got also, near russian department there only innostranni students what. Who gives a damn about them ma. Anyway, on that last flight of stairs, I don't know what god I pissed off this morning la, got one part the stone loose one. Seriously la, I HAD to step on that bloody one. Jatuh lor... Hit my bloody knee, damn painful. I thought break my kneecap already or something. Seriously damn pain one. Nasib baik it's the 2nd or 3rd step only. Ma hai bad luck macam sial, man. Seriousla. Pay so much to this uni for what. To renovate bloody petrov's office only. The hell la...

[ramble continues onto how the university should allocate more funding to the betterment of the main building]

Come on, be honest. Which one do you prefer?

P.S. After reading that wall of text, I have to reward you guys with something, right? I wanted to post a picture of a cute girl but then I remembered that most of my readers are of the female kind and the only guy I know who actually reads this rather regularly can appreciate beauty in all its form, regardless of gender. So, enjoy.

Because... Just Because.

2009-08-10T10:49:00.002+04:00

Say

2009-08-09T09:58:00.004+04:00

There are some things you say to your family but not to your friends.

There are some things you say to your friends but not to your family.

There are some things you say to your worst enemies and you don't say to no one else.

There are some things you don't even say to your worst enemies.

The simplest set of rules ever but why can't people follow them?

Air Asia

2009-08-04T03:43:00.002+04:00

You know, Tony my dear, you should have changed your motto from the fake and cliche sounding 'Now Everyone Can Fly' to 'All Hope Abandon Ye Who Enter In'.

Seriously, take every single stewardess/airline personnel that you know and formed during your pleasant time with MAS and find the antonym to every single detail. That's your typical AA crew.

1. Stewardesses have to be pretty and attractive. While this is a discrimination to fugly people and really has no bearing to me, AA's personnel are usually fat, ugly and thickly made up. But again, it's not a real point but that's the first image conjured when one mentions stewardesses.

2. Airline crews are polite and good mannered. THIS is the thing that ticks me off as a passenger on AA. They are brash, angry, scold the passenger. Hell, they were calling for a late passenger and the announcer was so angry that she muddled up English and Malay. She actually began shouting with "Attention, ladies and gentlemen..." and ended with "...ke kaunter lima belas." And this, into the mic that went to the whole damn terminal.

3. Stewardesses are sluts. This is a bad, bad stereotype but hey, it's there. And I don't know whether that's true or not for AA stewardesses. Hell, with point #1, I DON'T want to know.

4. Airline crews are always smiling. Take one ride on AA and I dare you to have this perception.

5. Airline crews work like clockwork automatons. Yes, that's why the engineer checked on our wings and engines while passengers were for boarding rather than way before. If there was something wrong, the passengers would hear the orders barked into the mic and they would happily exit the aircraft in a calm and orderly fashion.

Bah! I have to go to Bandung now. Wait, I WANT to go to Bandung, wtf.

Behave while I'm gone.

Strange

2009-07-29T06:01:00.003+04:00

I saw this facebook status update: Kiss the baby sky.

Apparently it's a song but seeing that particular phrase puts this strange little ditty in my head:

Kiss the baby sky
Let your worries fly
Kiss and say goodbye
Kiss and never try

I don't know why but I feel like I have to share it but it's my blog, so, suck it.

Too Much

2009-07-25T12:00:00.002+04:00

I think I'm one of the very few in the world that has been described as valuing friendship too much.

In a bad way

And I agree with that description

I'm rather obsessed with friendship

Addicted

I think I should stop now

Cold turkey?

If Life Ever Gives You Lemons

2009-07-21T14:35:00.001+04:00

Sell 'em and buy drugs for babies.

Johan Ariff bin Juhari hopes his current depression bout ends soon.

2009-07-19T15:56:00.001+04:00

That's what she said.

Caution: Wall of Ranting Text Ahead

2009-07-18T22:13:00.003+04:00

I don't know whether it's the coming solar eclipse or just the misalignment of Jupiter and Mars tonight but I'm just depressed. At 1.30am in the morning. With an 8 am appointment with some old friends. The latest post of my current favorite blogger also shows that she's depressed. So, maybe it's the celestial factor affecting us thus.

I have issues. Like ISSUES. Maybe I think I'm too important and the world revolves around me but I feel guilty about things I know I shouldn't.

And I bloody well can't express it to no one. Not even on this blog. ESPECIALLY not on this blog. Some of my closer friends, friends who I'd trust my life to without the shadow of a doubt read this blog. But I can't tell any of them. They know too much about me and the people around me that it'd affect the way they think about these people. I can't take that guilt too.

The only person I feel like I could talk to is a new good friend. I'm rather distrustful and some of my older friends, who I've known for up to 20 or more years, have not earned my trust yet, though they've proven to be true friends. I just have trust issues. But this person, who I've known for maybe a bit more than a couple of months, I trust very much, maybe even completely, that it scares me. It truly, really, creepily scares me.

This person is practically 100% detached from my personal life, my friends, my family, though the person fancies otherwise. The person is practically a stranger that I trust. What better person to pour your heart to, eh?

The last time I felt so trusting about someone so fast, though not THIS fast, I, for my part, destroyed that relationship through by being clingy. I'm not too self-centered to say that there's no other factors. Both sides, I think, are equally to blame and my mistake was being to clingy. Not a day goes by with me not regretting being clingy but at the same time, I think I regret more not getting out of that before I started to get real clingy. This is one of those 'Regrets I have a few, but then again too few to mention.' Franky, baby, I feel you, man.

That went to shit.

And I fear I'd do the same mistake with this trusted stranger.

Maybe my friends and family are right. I need a girlfriend. Not to love, not to adore, not to celebrate, God, no. As I've said countless times, it's not my mating season yet. No, I need a girlfriend to bitch about everything. Eh Ver Ree Thing.

Words hurt

2009-07-16T23:25:00.002+04:00

It doesn't matter if you know the person for five minutes or five decades, the simple fact is that words hurt.

Words hurt.

Their blows are harder than the greatest hammers, sharper than the keenest swords, more penetrating than the stealthiest stilettos.

Tact is apparently deader than Nietzsche's God.

Modifications

2009-07-14T14:36:00.003+04:00

I don't know why but I feel my chest swelling up with emotions. What kind of emotions? I can't even tell you what for I myself don't know. I just know that it's my muse pushing to get free.

O Calliope! Immortalize thy words!
O Melpomene! Pour forth thy tears!

I have quotes lying around that I don't quite agree with and I feel that I have to change them. I respect your intellectual rights but I just feel like pasting Paris Hilton's face on the Mona Lisa right now. I feel like carving a big why-so-serious grin on Michaelangelo's David. I feel like adding a "...NOT!" at the end of Sonnet 18's original manuscript!

Quote 1:
Love = ~~Lust~~ LOST!
Respect = ~~Revenge~~ REDEMPTION!
Family = ~~Fraud~~ FOREVER!

Quote 2:
Relationship endured because of 3 key ingredients:

Great ~~sex~~ LOVE!
~~Shared~~ DIFFERING! interest
Mutual UNQUESTIONING! respect

Quote 3:
~~Nigga!~~ AFRICAN AMERICAN!

Quote 4:
Love's a ~~bitch~~ BLESSING! YOU'RE THE BITCH!

Quote 5:
My life as the middle child... TELL ME ABOUT IT!

Quote 6:
Sometimes even music can't substitude [sic] for tears. BUT EVEN IN SOBS YOU FIND RHYTHM!

Bad Movie Reviews

2009-07-10T07:10:00.005+04:00

I'm dead bored so, I'm gonna write short reviews for bad movies now.

17 again

If there's a movie more blatantly try to milk its cash cow, please show it to me.

Rather than doing it subtly, the movie producers were probably saying, "Fuck it, nobody with an IQ higher than 3 is gonna watch this movie. Put more Efron. And while you're at it, put a half-naked Efron with his hippie armpit hair as the opening shot. A sweaty half-naked Efron with his hippie armpit hair."

The only reason I watched it was that I thought Chandler Bing was going to be involved more. With a storyline you can see miles away, jokes you predicted 2 seconds into the movie [except for Ned's antics], dialogues you could probably recite without even watching the movie, the Powers that be decided they HAVE to throw in the older generation's misconception that being wigger is cool.

Seriously, they were marketing this solely to brain-dead teenage bimbos. The world must be 57% populated by them, since that's the percentage at Rotten Tomatoes.

This is my first Efron movie. This is my last Efron movie. Undoubtedly, he's pretty and his body make me look at my tummy in self-loathing but with acting like that, who needs a shotgun against one's temple?

Comolot

Lutlut countered my Starcrossed with Comolot. Starcrossed is a beautiful movie with themes of true love, social pressure and a message that I can't decipher till now. Comolot is about gay malays.

The storyline, if you can call it that, is your fiancee caught you showering with another guy. You explain it to her, you get married the next day and then your boyfriend crash your wedding and whisk you off. That's it.

The acting can only be described as a typical malay movie acting. Shocked faces weren't shocked. Sad faces were angry. Hell, chasing your fiancee is more of a stroll.

Dialogues? The Jigsaw Killer rigging electric drills to slowly approach my ears is like a Wagnerian piece compared to that.

The direction is surprisingly great. I mean, assuming the director is a retard who has been dropped too many times on his retarded head as a retarded child, that is. The jerkiness of the scene shifts and the fact that the 'true love' is a recollection of you showering together should give you the same assumption.

Message: Malay girls are so stupid they'll still marry you even if they find you unpassionately caressing another guy lathered in soap.

You can find Comolot on Youtube but then again, you can also sodomize your 3-day old kitten. I wanted to write your 3-year-old brother but that's too sick.

Saint P, a travelblogue

2009-07-06T20:59:00.004+04:00

I thought I knew Russians.

I thought I knew Russia.

I now know I was wrong.

I didn't know Saint P, man.

Saint P was the place that made me realize that I've been in the redneck country of Russia for the better part of 5 years. Saint P-gians were the ones who made me realize that Russians CAN be pleasant. Saint P is where I left my heart.

I'm usually very cool and aloof when it comes to traveling. I don't gawk. I don't stare. I show as little shock and awe as possible. I try to blend in as much as possible.

In Saint P, I was in full tourist mode. I mean really, it's cranked up till 11. Hell, on the way to the Metro station where my guides were waiting for me, I took pictures from the bus! And the conductor was so nice, I doubted she was Russian!

Day 1:

My love affair with Saint P began with her enticing main avenue, Nevskii Prospekt. She whispered a little secret into my lustful ears for every step I took. Every statue I saw cemented the subtle obsession that builds up slowly but surely. And there was no shortage of that. Everywhere I turned, I saw a beauty of the builders' toil, of the sculptors' loving hands, of the ghosts set in stones. I can only imagine what sort of spirits walked here. Here, on this very road, Pushkin wandered, giving the finishing touch to a love poem. There, I saw Lomonosov bumping into others, apologizing mindlessly as he worked on his latest theory. And through it all, the royal processions of Peter and Catherine marched and proclaimed the greatness of the monarchs.

We walked and talked and laughed and drank in each other, Saint P and I on that day, only such as new lovers could. The perfect day was ended with the witnessing of a ballet, Swan Lake. Ah, such an experience can't be described neither through words nor through paintings. One has to go through it oneself to truly appreciate it.

Day 2:

The second day of our program began with the tour of the Kuntskamera. It is here that the Great Peter the First collected medical oddities and cultural trinkets from around the world. Honestly, it was pretty disappointing. The culture displayed were nothing new to a person who has spent some moments on the Discovery and National Geographic channels. The medical oddities, on the other hand, would have a great effect on someone who never had the opportunity to browse through the classrooms and museums of Volgograd State Medical University's Anatomy, Histology and Pathological Anatomy departments.

Then, we ascended the ancient winding steps of Isaakaevskii Cathedral. From up there, we could see the whole of Saint P, naked before our very eyes. We saw her blemishes, her scars unveiled. We saw her beauty, her brilliance unhindered. To say the view was breathtaking is to be insulting to the memory of that day. I remember that the climb was exerting but, at the same time, worth every gasping breath.

Not enough with that, our geographically blind planner decided to wrestle my very last breath with the Hermitage, the winter palace of the tsars. It wasn't much of a battle, honestly. Being true to the concept of a palace, there are ballrooms and a throne room and sitting rooms that shouts majesty into one's eyes but these weren't the major attraction to me. No. The Hermitage is also home to thousands of paintings and sculptures. My seeing orbs feasted on Michaelangelo and da Vinci and Rubens and Raphael; molested every inch of the Rape of Europa, the Crucifixion of St John, the Adoration of the Baby Jesus; ogled at every dimension of L'amour et Psyche, the Three Graces and Bachus and the Satyr. Four hours we were there. We covered so much less than a quarter.

Day 3:

We went to only one place on this day. The summer palace. Petergof. When I walked in the main gate, my jaw literally dropped. I was in awe. The fountains and the palace itself and the chapel with the golden domes were awesome in the truest sense of the word. My guides laughed at me. We haven't even began uncovering the beauty of Peterdvorets. There must have been at least 20 different fountains with 20 different themes on that royal retreat. The majestic Samson fountain, the quirky Sun, the Adam and Eve... all of these and more litter the palace's park. In the middle of it all, there's a canal leading to the sea.

Day 4:

Day 4 was rather uneventful. We woke up late. Very late. We went to the souvenir market, doing some very touristy shopping. Later that day, we went to Peter and Paul's Fort, a barricade never used in battle but rather was used as a political prison, instead. On this island-fort the remains of the royal families were laid to rest, including the last royal family of Tsar Nikolai the Second. It is in this very fort also that Peter, the same Great Peter, tortured his son to death, reportedly for criticizing the father's europeanization of Russia and the subsequent rape of its culture.

And thus ended my Great Saint P Fling. As I've told many, I left my heart there, hoping for the opportunity to return and see if I could reclaim it some day.

I would like to use this opportunity to commend and extend my gratitude to my graceful hosts. Never have I seen in Russia four friends more comfortable and natural. And to make matters worse, they were all talented in the arts. I envy them. I couldn't find one person that share the same interests, who is comfortable around me in 500 Malaysians in Volgograd. The four found three each in a group of 12 Malaysian students. Tell me, isn't my envy just?

Disclaimer:Most of the pics here are courtesy of Vitamin050

St P iz da shiznit

2009-07-03T00:13:00.003+04:00

I'm in St Petersburg now, woohoo! The awesomeness that is this place is mindfucking me to no foreseeable end. I'll post a travelblog [yes, lico, a travelblog] when I get back. But for now, enjoy this dancing bear.

Change

2009-06-23T15:42:00.003+04:00

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

2009-06-22T19:49:00.002+04:00

Fuck 'em.

For the First Time...

2009-06-20T12:07:00.004+04:00

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

I don't know why

2009-06-19T00:12:00.003+04:00

...but I find this picture hilarious:

Starcrossed

2009-06-16T13:12:00.006+04:00

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

2009-06-13T11:13:00.004+04:00

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

2009-06-10T23:56:00.003+04:00

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?

2009-06-10T15:07:00.002+04:00

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.