It seems as though the only time I post is when I'm procrastinating through assignments or studying for exams. WAS. Should've used was. Does that mean that there's no longer reason for me to post anymore now that studies are in the past tense? Let's hope not.

I feel obliged to begin by saying that the last post should've been followed promptly with another, to say that OMG Gnosis I had no idea that you were in fact a person, and not a spam bot as I initially thought. My bad. And I am ever so grateful that there's at least one soul out there who reads all these wtf. I hope everyone had a splendid Christmas and will have an awesome new year.

Gosh am I sounding awfully formal today? Anyway. My Christmas was, unfortunately for me, not that merry. Having just came back from India two days before, the explosive diarrhea began wtf. And I say explosive, as that first visit to the toilet (out of many visits later) was truly like the opening of floodgates.

Amidst the Xmas merriment, there I was on the toilet prodded to think of when was my physical low point of the year. After having vomited, nay, projectiled my guts into the toilet bowl on Christmas morning itself, I had my answer. Nowadays my default position in the toilet is one hand on the sink, head resting on hand, and just letting it flowww. But thankfully I am feeling much better already, partly due to some miraculous medicinal concoction by a tabib Cina. I now have some new found respect for Chinese traditional medicine.

But enough of my bowel misfortune. There's so much that I want to mentally purge here, it's almost impossible to start. As alike to a trip to the therapist's as blogging in its cathartic quality, there's no certified professional on some stuffy couch asking the right questions, nodding at opportune moments and gently encouraging you to go on. All you have is you, your own mind, and all those thoughts to organise.

That being said, it's time to end this post as I'm totally supposed to be sleeping early (failing miserably) to not worsen my condition wtf. It's kinda hard to find the space and right moment to type out your thoughts when you're in a house which is not even really meant for seven people, with eight other people (or seven and a quarter, if you follow the math of the people of Two and a Half Men).

Till the opportunity is right, I shall write again!

During the course of major procrastination again, I was looking through my old posts.

And I'm glad that even if there were so few of you guys, on a few occasions some random strangers actually stumbled upon this site and read some posts and took the time to comment. Haha. I'm proud that I managed to entertain some people, even if it's just one or two of them. So this post is dedicated to them...

Thank you :)

Random thought:

I think one of the most romantic things a guy could say to me is, "If you were a guy, I'd come out of the closet for you*..."

*I'd turn gay for you / I'd have to come to terms with the fact that I'm gay / I'd have to realise I'm gay / I'd still totally do you LOL

Now THAT'S attraction, THAT'S real feelings right there I tell you.

Don't you think so? Haha.

Holy crap, mosquitoes are back!

Mozzies,

Y U NO EXTINCT ALREADY??

But at least the mosquitoes here aren't as toxic as those back home... where in addition to being super itchy and ALIVE, the bites can last for days.

***

Yes, I did submit my essay!

Technically it was past midnight so it was submitted today wtf.

Mark my words, I will finish this essay today, sleep like a mofo and start studying tomorrow.

Deal? OK deal.

If left to my own devices, I could basically just sleep all day.

My Gawd. Just do this one last essay man. One last essay... you can do it... COME ON

GAH feel like crap.

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

One, I can't seem to stop the cycle of eating then falling into food comas these days.

Two, I still haven't had my bloody period.

Three, feel like I'm stuck in this pre-menstrual state which I can tell you, doesn't feel good.

Four, I still have one more essay to do.

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Personal reinvention

Personal reinvention. Does that sound like something only someone older would partake in? What about the younger generation? Is it possible for us to go on a journey of personal reinvention too?

I imagine that when people think of personal reinvention, it would entail someone who has been in a rut for years, decades even. Someone burnt out and going through the motions day by day, suddenly deciding, “Fuck this shit I’m dealing with this once and for all”.

This would basically mean youngsters would not be qualified for a personal revamp because why would someone so young need to reinvent themselves anyway? Aren’t they IN the process of inventing themselves?

People tend to forget about how they were like when they were younger, about how being on the cusp of adulthood could suck so much. Memories of drowning in the sea of all the uncertainties, the worries the anxiety fade away as the years go by. Many suppress the memory of going through depression at that point in their life.

Truth is when you’re in your twenties, you’ve had enough time to develop some sort of personality and attitude, making you somewhat set in your own ways; yet your inexperience and malleability leaves potential for change.

And that is when the personal reinvention could come in.

I, personally am looking forward to a personal reinvention by way of becoming someone… lighter. Less bogged down by my own thoughts, less self conscious, and more importantly, less subservient. I have been spoon fed and obedient for the majority of my life, and it is really time for a change.

I may be over generalizing here, but I think this is mainly a problem spawning from the Asian culture. Since young, Asian children have been taught to obey and not to question. Obeying meant respect, and respect ranked high in the Asian household curriculum.

On top of that, voicing out in my house would almost always lead to a confrontational climate in my house, thus keeping quiet was pretty much my viable option to stay sane. Years have gone by till I finally realized how much I actually owe myself in thinking for myself and growing on my own.

To be honest I do not have an exact plan on how to go on this journey. All I know is that it is long overdue and it is a learning process. I just hope that I can slowly wean off the overbearing, overprotective hands of my parents and make it on my own, for real this time.

There will be no guidelines or tips here, because at the end of the day aren’t we all just learners? There is no set formula, no definite answer, just us trying our best to make the sense of things.

The romantic notion would see me packing my bags and jetting off to Europe for a self-discovering trip, and maybe I will.

We’ll see where things go.

Today, I feel inexplicably fine :)

Gotta claim victory where I can get it right heh

Last night as I lay on my bed, my mind drifted to the possibility of writing again, of becoming a columnist of some sort. As the reality of graduation draws near, thoughts like these come often nowadays, especially when all lights are out and there's only a slither of moonlight resting on the sheets. In that window before your mind thankfully succumbs to deep slumber, it ponders. Ponders about past mistakes, about the future, about possibilities.

Truth be told, I have no idea what I'm gonna do after finishing my degree. I feel like I'm long overdue for a gap year, to just take time to travel on my own and absorb experiences on my own, without being spoon fed or coddled. But that would take money... and do you think my parents would actually let me travel on my own like that?

Doesn't it suck how everything revolves around money? Don't you just feel sometimes that the foundations of capitalism and consumerism need to just crumble so that everyone can go back to basics?

The basics, the simplicity of just being. The universe has no rhyme or reason, and WE do not have a purpose for existence. Yet we go on searching high and low for that purpose, just because humans are purpose-seeking creatures. So at the end of the day, you either create your own purpose, or you'll end up searching your whole life. It is basically arbitrary. Man is condemned to be free.

Wow ok I went on a bit there about existentialism ahem.

The basics, I think for me the basics involve the written word. The beauty of the written word can be... breathtaking. Recently I discovered this blog A Gold Noise, and I've fallen in love with it. I'm glad that there are people out there who are so at ease with the written word and can be so effortlessly graceful with it. Yes good writers make it seem effortless, that they strung out beautiful sentences out of pure talent and make readers sigh internally, gratefully.

So that's how I got to thinking about having a column of my own, in a magazine or a newspaper, anywhere. Something to support my other job, an illustrator or something arts related. Which would be silly of course, by my parents' standards, cos both jobs aren't even traditionally money-making secure jobs. To them it'd be like taking a ratty rag with holes in it to cover up the holes of another shitty rag that's trying to keep the pipes from bursting WTF.

And another question pops up which is, what the hell would I write about? I have such limited life experiences and knowledge to derive from, and judging from the dearth of stuff I write about here... I don't know.

One thing's almost certain, tonight I'll probably be drifting off to the same thoughts again...

I may not look like it and I don't know when, but I think I've become a hippy at heart. I mean, I love the sun, keen to the idea of prancing around barefoot with lush ungroomed armpits lol probably topless on a beach too wtf, and I'm totally down with the idea of hugs as currency. Hugs as currency. Hyeah, that's how much of a hippy I actually am.

Maybe's it's Blogspot, but a lot of times I've felt like writing, and ended up stopping midway. I know it's probably my own inadequacies as a human being or whatever wtf, but I can't help thinking maybe it's time for Blogspot to have an extreme makeover. You know, like if it wasn't the same dark blue header facing me every time I log in.. wasn't the same white letter 'B' atop an orange blunt-edged square.. maybe I'd be more inspired to finish typing?

It's time for something more chic and sleek, blogspot. Akin to from me blogging at home on my heavy laptop to me typing away on a light, sleek notebook at a quaint coffee shop somewhere. Though by the same analogy you'll probably end up sticking with your heavy laptop, draped in layers of body fat and self loath wtf...

Boys and girls, sit down, let me tell you about my ICQ era.

I was in Form 3, if I'm not mistaken. It was during my Dark Ages. I was in pain, in the depths of depression. I felt so alone, and needed someone to talk to. For some reason it was easier to turn to strangers online than it was to talk to people around me.

Form 3, PMR year. Gosh was I that stressed over PMR? Seriously? Fucking PMR? I've no choice but to admit that I don't deal well with stress at all wtf. And to think that when I was younger, probably primary school time, some people used to ask me, either teachers or peers, do your parents give you any pressure? Like do they always ask you to study? I would think a little and go hmm... not really. As if I'm one total self-motivating bitch like that.

In retrospect, oh how naive and stupid was I. Even though my parents weren't like all whip and cane going "you better study or I'll whoop your ass", it was probably implicit "encouragement", like if you don't get good results you're a worthless piece of shit. The problem started early, it started young.

So, one day I just had the idea to go on ICQ chat rooms for some online companionship (does that sound dirty? ahem). Get that, ICQ. How fucking long ago was that omg. I was that desperate I guess.

I guess you could say I made some online friends, particularly in the #malaysia chat room. Ahhh... I was the second youngest person there that time, I was 14 for fuck's sake. I got quite addicted, one time I went on in the middle of the night after everyone at home was sleeping, I was on till 4am wtf, probably had the forum to thank too. Oh yeah I was also a member of a forum set up by the ICQ roomies. Plus, I remember I had a crush on one of the members. Who was like 15 years older than me hahaha. Oh he was a good looking old chap, who was married wtf. Huh he's probably 36 years old now, and have a couple of kids already.

Till today I still think about them sometimes. After all they were a part of my life at that point in time. And that point in time happens to be a significant point for all the bucket load of tears I went through.

Heck, I even told them about the ancient wanker... not someone I want to talk about even now. Another wanker I've come across was even more ancient, yet surprisingly fast. The first time I was lucky that he only managed to grope my hand, but it was in a totally sleazy, fast way. I walked past him and my WHOLE hand was felt up. I think it took me a few moments to realize what happened, I managed to look back at that old bastard walking away. The second time, I'm guessing it was the same person, his hand grazed against my thigh, not so much grazed but deliberately touched I guess. And by the time I realized what happened, he was already far gone crossing the damn road. Damn that dickhead's fast for his age. I imagine his daily routine is to walk about the area (it was near a tuition centre) everyday molesting school girls. I used to feel angry, but typing this now, I think I just feel sad for him. Go figure.

But I digress. That ICQ era will always be a part of my life. And there will come a time again in the future when I'll think about them once more, wondering how they're doing and all.

I'm yearning for a really good story to read, like a really REALLY good story or stories that I can totally lose myself in.

Sigh. Do you think good story tellers are getting rare these days? I don't know maybe it's just me.

And some people say if you want something but can't get it outside, just make it yourself right?

But I have no good stories to tell T_T.

I live a very mundane, repetitive, dull life. Sometimes that's good sometimes it is just soul sucking.

Last time I found a blog with good stories in it, it was Memoirs of a Korean. But it's shut down now after he broke up with his fiance T_T. And man, did he have good stories to tell. True life experiences nonetheless. I went through most, if not all, of his archived posts. Now that is what good stories gets you. Shit loads of procrastination wtf.

Why the fuck do the good blogs either go on shit long hiatus or just get shut down? Sad case, man.

I know now that no one's supposed to / capable of feeling eternal happiness, but can't my baseline mood at least not be well, moody? Wtf.

So anyway I watched a documentary this morning and cried like fuck at the violence and injustice that went on in Bahrain, thinking of all the stupid fucks ruining their countries with dictatorship and fucking greed, oppression and propaganda and shit. I mean, how do these people live with themselves? I don't get it, I really don't. Is it really worth it? Having all these blood on your hands, for the sake of staying in power? Why can't these people die?? Surely they can't live forever? But then after they die they'd probably pass their power on to another power-crazy dickhead, related or not. Wtf.

Sigh. Why must it be this way? Why can't people just see that we are all members of the human race, there's no need to discriminate based on religion, skin colour, gender, personal preferences whatsoever. Ok maybe everyone's judgmental including me wtf but exercising judgment and practicing discrimination are not really the same thing right? Discrimination involves bigotry, feelings of superiority, irrationality, disgust and most of all, hatred. Why all the hate, people?

We are all but one tiny race living on one tiny speck of Earth in the whole universe, or even galaxy. Why is it so damn hard to get our fucking shit together? If this relatively small population of beings can't even live together in harmony, I wonder how can other beings on other planets manage to. Maybe they're in the same state of chaos and dispute? Or maybe they've evolved into something much more sophisticated and capable of resolving problems peacefully. Into something much less greedy and much more intellectually equipped.

I guess we'll never quite know, given our vast distances and whatnot.

After that, I did my laundry, and went on with my daily activities, e.g. stuffing my face.

Apathy? Resignation that I can't do anything to change the ridiculous violence that goes on everywhere in the world? Both?

I was reading a post about that passion you have in you, one so intense that it hurts. It fucking hurts.

Then I remembered something.

I looked back into my posts for one that mentioned something similar. I thought it was about me missing MCR in concert so much it hurt, but it was about the aching desire I felt to form a band after attending their concert. Haha. It was that energy, the massive energy you get from the crowd that just makes you feel alive. Imagine yourself rocking out on stage, with the sea of people jumping along, moshing around, singing (or rather, shouting) the words with you... wouldn't that just make you feel so. fucking. ALIVE?

Gosh, what I would do to go back to that night again. To be jumping till my stomach ached and screaming my lungs out till I was totally out of breath. To feel that alive again. To feel that aching desire after. To have my heart ache for something that bad.

Shit man I need to start eating better and not slip into food comas all the time wtf.

Dude, I practically slept for over 10 hours yesterday and still I slept just now. Must be the food coma. Fuck this I fail as a human being!!! I'm incapable of functioning like a normal person wtffffffff

Sigh.

Do you wanna know why true happiness is so damn elusive?

Cos it doesn't exist. No one is truly happy all the time. So when you find yourself feeling the tiniest bit of happiness, you better fucking hold on to it by savouring every fucking moment till the next thing brings you down. Be it yourself, other people, your surroundings or whatever.

Why is it this way, you ask? Cos sometimes, sometimes the world plain sucks. The universe plain sucks. And it just wants to fuck with you. You can quote me on that wtf.

Sometimes, all the beautiful quotes aren't enough.

Sometimes, even beautiful, inspiring words get it wrong.

All round failure. :(