Thursday, January 26, 2012

Have you ever wondered how the lives of the people around you would've been different if you never existed?

Wouldn't it be awesome if we actually had the option of seeing what would that be like? You know, like if we had a vivid dream about it or something with the aid of some magical cosmic power.

Personally, I don't think my family's or friends' lives would've been much affected by my non-existence. Seriously, prove me wrong, universe wtf.

Some days I just wonder what it would be like to be dead. Am not exactly suicidal, but just the casual wonderment of hmm what if I disappeared, Amelia Earhart style?

Ok I realise that anyone would be sick of reading all these fucking words without any photos at all wtf... fine I'll post photos from India, when I'm not feeling like a piece of shit wtf. All in due time...

Thursday, January 19, 2012

India '11

I realised I haven’t even written about my two-week trip to India last December...

Throughout the trip, my mum repeated that India could be described in just three words: messy, noisy and dirty. Truth is, India is all those, and so much more. One could easily overlook the notable air pollution during the first few days of arrival, as frankly I was pretty fascinated just to be there. Plus, I reasoned that the dusty air gave the place a beautiful dusky quality, when even sunsets were exceptionally powdery and pastel.

I’m sure anyone who’ve been to or ever contemplated heading to India has heard the horror stories about being conned, being pestered by relentless vendors and beggars, and/or contracting diarrhoea. What can I say, those are all part of the experience. On my first day itself in front of India Gate, I had my first quintessential India experience. Ignoring my (much too) polite refusals to get a henna tattoo, this merciless woman grabbed my hand and proceeded to draw one anyway. Judging by her strength and steely determination, I’m guessing she does this manoeuvre a lot and has the means to buy lots of chapati. Sure enough I was left in a bit of a shock after that encounter but hey, it was only the first day and no excessively grabby Indian lady was going to dampen my spirits!

The thing is, especially in the touristy areas, after some time you realise you can never be sure whether the locals are really being friendly or are just trying to get you to buy something at a jacked-up price. At the same time you also realise that that’s just how they do business, how they earn the money to support their family, and you really shouldn’t take it personally. But man, patience does have its limits. Mine was seriously tested at Fatehpur Sikri, where persistent locals were swarming around foreigners like flies, trying to offer guide services or sell some sort of thingamajig that I couldn’t care for anymore. This was during the second half of the trip, so honestly my initial fascination had waned and the culminated frustration after over one week of aggressive peddling left me a very, very grumpy person. I am not proud of this at all, but I even grudgingly refused at first when my brother came to me for Rs2 (~ RM 0.13) to give to a blind beggar up the stairs leading to Jama Masjid.

That is not to say that touring India would leave you totally heartless and jaded. We did meet many genuinely friendly and curious people along the trip. Some requested to have their photos taken with us, many enquired about our country of origin, and many offered amiable smiles and greetings. One thing to note is that NO ONE got it right when they tried to guess where we came from. The closest we got was Singapore. We sure had a lot of Koreas, Japans, Chinas and Thailands. Which only serves to say that Malaysians travelling to India are few and far between. Malaysians, where you at? Or more specifically, Malaysian Chinese, where you at??

I’ve got to admit that we did not see many Asian tourists the whole trip, barring a few Chinese tour groups. Most of the foreigners there were Caucasian, because damn do they love India. It’s most probably due to the exotic factor and the fact that India is such a different place from their home, be it Europe, America, Australia or New Zealand. And isn’t that the point of touring after all? To head somewhere different and to experience new things and immerse yourself in different cultures?

One would think that the highlight of the trip would have been the Taj Mahal. Ah the Taj… one of the wonders of the world, a UNESCO World Heritage site, and so horrifically overcrowded at the same time. Granted, we were there on a Sunday evening, but the droves of visitors and lack of maintenance of the reflective side pools left us a little, if not sorely, disappointed. My mum agreed that when she visited 8 years earlier it was still an impressive sight, and now it seemed kind of lacklustre. All the forts, temples, and mausoleums we visited the week before might also have had something to do with our disappointment. After some point in time, they do tend to look the same. But I would still highly recommend a trip to Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur, the fort that all three of us favoured for most beautiful among those we visited. So if anyone wants to be awed by the Taj, it’s probably better that you visit it earlier in your trip, and on a weekday.

So that begs the question, what was the highlight of our trip? Two words: camel safari. No, it’s not actually a safari where you sit in a jeep and ogle at humpy camels along the way. Oh no. You ride on camels, to somewhere in the desert and spend the night under the stars. You also have the option of spending more than one night, or not spending the night at all. That’s a real oversimplified explanation there, but you get the gist.

I could practically hear the giddy excitement in my brother’s voice as the camels that we climbed onto stood up. That was the happiest I’ve seen my brother so far in the trip. To be honest, for the first few minutes I was more than a little terrified of falling down. I have never ridden any animals before, so it surely was interesting to have given my first time to a camel *ahem*. Camel rides are bumpy, very bumpy, but you’ll get used to it (as if you have a choice).

After an hour plus of camel riding, we finally arrived at our site for the night in the Thar Desert. Other than our guides, there were just six of us. It’s hard to describe how being in the desert felt like. Being isolated like that, you just feel as if you were transported to another timeline. Standing atop a sand dune, it was as though I could hear sounds from a thousand miles away, sounds that arrived unobstructed and unfiltered. The desert felt like a place of ancient ruins and mystic charm, a world of difference from the hustle and bustle in the streets of India.

The moon shone so bright that night, there was no need for any artificial lighting at all. As we formed a circle around the fire during dinnertime, Mr Desert of Sahara Travels regaled us with his life story, a heart-warming tale of success and contentment. We chatted on after Mr Desert left, got to know each other a little more and exchanged travel tales. That night I experienced another first, as that was my first time sleeping under the night sky. It was oh-so-cold, but still oh-so-amazing.

For that experience alone, the trip was probably worth it. Yet the trip was made up of so many interesting bits and pieces. It’d be no mean feat to encompass every detail in one writing. If you’re getting tired of the typical shopping and eating vacations, why not try India? India is truly a place that you should experience yourself, if not just to be shamelessly asked for tips at the toilet for just opening the door! (True story)

Monday, January 16, 2012

Isn't it funny how...

when you're in an unfamiliar place, you have all these fresh thoughts in your head, ideas, aspirations, and new hopes. Roads open up and there are more possibilities than ever. In short, the world seems like your oyster.

But when you get back, despite all the life altering experiences you've been through, no matter how much your mindset have actually changed, when you return to familiar surroundings and hang out with old friends, you regress back to your old self anyway?

It's just too easy to slip back into old habits and old perspectives. The comfort zone's siren song might just be too hard to resist. No wonder people ask, "can people really change?". Is change only possible when you uproot yourself to another place, establish different ties and literally start a new life?

Perhaps change is only possible in a new environment, where there are no elements to lure you back into your old ways. The contrary is possibly true, but that would surely require you to claw your way out of your rut, with rivulets of perspiration streaming down your pasty half-dead face.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Fuck this shit there's just this simmering frustration inside of me that I can't seem to get rid of, even though I already sweated it out with cardio just now.

Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

I'm starting to sound like a teenager and I don't like it!

Calm down, deep breaths, stand your ground.

Shit this might be PMS kicking in. The fuck? So fast?

Sonofabitch! I'm 21 for fuck's sake, turning 22 this year, and I still feel like I'm being treated as a kid around here. I know for every parent their children will always be kids to them wtf, but DAYMNNN at some point you've GOT TO loosen your grip y'all!
Yeah, it's about time I changed the layout a bit.

After years of boycotting anything PINK, especially bright pink, I've gotta admit that I actually like colours and am not all black and dark. The refusal to buy or associate myself with anything pink stemmed from the feeling of being brainwashed into liking that colour. It was like my mom's favourite colour, not mine. She was the one who bought me pink clothes, cos duh a girl surely likes pink right. So now, after years of that subtle, unconscious brainwashing, I'm like "eww pink, DISGUSTING."

Despite that revulsion, I find myself actually drawn to pastel colours. Even pastel pink. It's bright, tacky pink that I would not wear / touch with a ten foot pole. What is it about pastel colours that makes a girl go all fluttery inside wtf? I guess there is still a girly girl inside me wtf.

Speaking about brainwashing, I've mentioned over here before how my dad's shoving his passion in everyone's faces have left me practically repulsed at the idea of pursuing it. This is something that I've learnt about myself over the years. If there's anything that I know about myself, it's that the more you ask me to do something, the more I'm inclined NOT to do it wtf. (That being said, reverse psychology could probably work on me... tell me not to do something and I'll do it wtf.)

Is it cos I'm a rebel? I think it's more... being fed up of listening to people telling me what to do. Sick of being a spineless pushover. And that's how I've developed this reflex of shutting the noise out when being told what I should do, or what I'm supposed to do.

I would just like to ask, why the fuck should anyone live one's life according to anyone else's dictation?

I stand by the principle that, unless you're hurting anyone else, unless you're bringing any sort of harm to others, just do whatever the fuck you want. Develop your own intellectual thoughts, your own moral principles, your own interests and preferences.


Shit! I just gave myself a pep talk wtf.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Foster the People Live in Kuala Lumpur!

A sign of an awesome concert: You, sitting desolate, not knowing what to do with yourself after.

Seriously it's like what the hell am I supposed to look forward to now??

If you don't know who I'm talking about...


Ok let me start from the beginning. I only found out about the concert ONE WEEK before wtf mostly due to me travelling most of November and December last year. And it was purely by chance that I made the discovery, cos if I didn't visit Junk's website that day, I seriously would've had no idea and my life would not have been graced by the presence of Foster the People, in front of me, performing oh-so-awesomely. Their concert would've ended without me even knowing about it in the first place - OH GOD the HORROR. Therefore, I thank my lucky stars that I did find out, and that I did manage to get a ticket despite purchasing one fairly late. Although I gotta admit I was kinda pissed that I found out so late.

So. I was getting so excited today (or rather, it was yesterday already T.T) I was actually nervous wtf as if I was going on a blind date or something. Serious shit I can't remember feeling so excited for something EVER. Not even MCR cos before their concert I wasn't actually a diehard fan and frankly didn't know what to expect cos it was my first concert (Gosh my first).

By the time I got into my friend's car I was giggling shitless like some comical baboon. Excited as ever.

When I got to KL Convention Centre, HOLY SHIT such a long queue was already snaking out the door. I was like WTF what time did these people get here!!! So I went to the front hoping that the long ass queue was actually for another zone instead of Fanatic, but NO. Cue me walking back to the end of the line lips a-pouting and eyebrows frowned. How the fuck was I supposed to know that Fanatic Zone could accommodate so many people T_T. You know what time was that? 6pm wtf. Concert was supposed to start at 8.30pm. And to think that, my friend teased me for wanting to arrive at 5.30pm originally -____-.

I've learnt my lesson: if you wanna be in front for a freaking concert, arrive like 24 hours before WTF. Or at least, 9 hours.

Straight to after I got in at around 7 +, I was devising ways to squeeze to the very front since I was alone I thought that shouldn't be too hard right wtf. Alas, again my reasoning failed me as A) I'm not petite, B) I'm not really a thick-skinned-squeeze-to-the-front-regardless-of-shit-people-gives-you type of person. And as I witnessed a string of like 3 - 4 people navigate their way to the front only to come back out again, I assumed people gave them too much shit for them to stand wtf. So I was stuck in the middle, few rows from the stage.

They came on a little later after 8.30pm, and the crowd went BALLISTIC. For the first couple of songs, the whole crowd in front (don't know bout the back) was like a giant mochi ball, stuck together and swayed left and right with all the pushing going on. I didn't mind that much, as long as I was still actually able to stand wtf. But yeah at some point things got kinda breathless, literally squished out of breath. The crowd was absolutely crazy, and that's an understatement.

Couple of songs in and already I was sweating like a mofo. Don't think I sweat like that even when I exercise wtf. I think I got pushed even further behind somehow, in the midst of all the mochi helplessness.

Ok my memory sucks balls, so hopefully I'm not mistaken but they started off with Miss You.* One of my favourite songs, especially the feet twisting part of the music. But as you know by now, there was no actual space to do any feet twisting wtf.

*Edit: First song was Houdini. Told you my memory sucks donkey cock.

And their somewhere around third song, was Broken Jaw. Shit, can Mark Foster sing and shout. You could just FEEL the veins popping out his neck while he was screaming towards the end of the song.

What more can I say, every song was sheer awesomeness. I was raining sweat and tired as fuck, other signs of a great concert. Waste was awesome, Warrant was awesome, Call It What You Want was awesome, Helena Beat was awesome, and so on and so on.

Plus oh my God I really didn't expect them to play Ruby! One of Mark Foster's favourite songs, but it's unreleased as yet. And it was AMAZING. I nearly choked in tears when he got to my favourite part of the song. T_T.

Too bad they didn't play Love, Chin Music for the Unsuspecting Hero or Downtown. They could've played any of these for an encore but no...

After a mind-fucking-blasting (Russell Peters reference wtf) performance of Pumped Up Kids, one with a real long intro with Foster clearly enjoying himself, they ended the night I think with Cubbie throwing his guitar picks into the crowd? Am not sure though, as I was not at that end of the stage. Sure seems like it, judging from the Youtube videos that fellow concertgoers have already very efficiently uploaded.

By the way, everyone went apeshit for Pumped Up Kids. Sang along like mofos and whatnot. After all, it was the song that propelled them to stardom. When Foster climbed on to the speaker (I think?) at the side of the stage I totally thought (and hoped) he was gonna stage dive or something but alas! He tamely climbed down afterwards haha. Would've LOVED to grope his ass while he crowd surfed heh.

When the concert ended and there was no encore, the crew started cleaning up the stage. And this was where the theatrics didn't end for the night wtf. The audience who were still around started begging for stuff to be given/thrown to us haha. Some got water bottles, some got the setlist (!!) and one got a towel, most possibly the towel that Foster used to wipe his face wtf!!! He exclaimed, "Yeah dapat peluh Mark Foster!" WTF. And when this Caucasian girl got something after some major pleading she literally dashed off excitedly. Dashed. A few people that witnessed were like whoa, the fuck? Haha.

And what did I get? Zilch. Nada. Nothing! Oh I did get a very blur photo of an autographed All Access Pass of an Event Crew guy. Sigh. Should've begged harder, longer, louder to be given SOMETHING!!! But still, it was a great night haha.

Ah. What more can I say. I got to see Mark shoulder dance, slide backwards across the stage, smile happily at us as if impressed by our energy, I got to see the cute faces of Cubbie and Poncy, got to see Isom slamming on the drums and so on.

It was truly a night worth remembering. Slotted with the MCR concert, it's another contender for one of the best nights of my life, thus far.

Tuesday, January 03, 2012

I'm back!!!

Happy new year everyone! I think you've all read what there is to read about welcoming the new year with open arms and hopes, so let's not get cliched shall we?

Let me ask a question... must we always be doing something?

I don't know if a gap year is just a semi-established excuse to take a long break from everything, from either studies or entering the working world. Maybe it is, and truthfully I don't really care. What kinda saddens me is that some people, most Asians in fact, have never even heard the concept of a gap year. For most of them, finishing high school meant going to university immediately after; finishing your studies meant diving straight into job interviews and securing a job. It's one stage straight to the next, unquestionably.

It was with some horror and shock that a few friends reacted to my lounging at home, and having no immediate plans to do anything. I know I sound like a big fat good-for-nothing parasite leeching off my parents' savings in search of what-exactly-who-knows, and frankly I don't give a shit. I know I'm saying I don't give a shit now, but some days I do. And those days are filled with self-loath and doubt. But that's not important.

Why is it so imperative that I get a job as soon as possible? Again, must we always be doing something? My plan is not having a plan, is that really so hard to grasp?

Unless your family needs your support, unless your situation is so dire, unless you really need the money to survive, why the rush?

So happens I'm lucky enough to be able to not rush right now, and I'm immensely grateful for that. That doesn't mean that my parents don't go all Asian on my ass though, they still mention job hunting, career establishing, thinking about the future and so on. And I know that as time passes, these mentions will only get more frequent and pushy. I don't think that they'll let me take a full-on gap year, so it only feels as if my time is slowly but surely, running out.

Anyway I digressed a little there. What I really wanted to point out was the inability of people to accept or comprehend the concept of doing nothing. I can proudly declare that doing nothing is like my forte now! I've become so good at it it's only second nature now. Shit, I fucking love doing nothing, I can't say it enough.


So get off my business will ya?

I was hoping that this post would've been much more coherent and articulate but apparently I'm just not that good at organising my thoughts wtf. Plus it's 2am.

I have more to say but not the mental capacity to type them out nice and neat like a freshly wrapped present. So... good night I guess!