My faction, was solely named the MLA (Malaya Liberation Army). The name itself shoots tingling irony through my veins when I first signed up to fight. There weren't much requirements. If you could speak a fair bit of English and Malay, is able to stand and to wield a rifle with both arms and able to walk, you are hired. No discrimination between men and women.

As far I remembered, I was of a Chinese-Indian descent. I am tall, average looking and just about the right size of a healthy dude thanks to my rotund visage of a stomach. Sporting faded jeans and a red shirt and a sling bag crossing my chest, I stepped up to the faction's recruitment building and waiting in line behind several men and women all apparently, looking their finest with faded, grimy attire and small carryon bags and some medium sized, bags.

The building was located in the center of the city where I used to hang out. It was probably the only place in the city at that time was lit. In front of a man made lake and across a river which is now strewn with garbage and probably, human corpses as well. Despite me couldn't see the river or the lake, the stench of rotting garbage and flesh hovered over the air in that area and it nearly made my eyes water, if it wasn't my turn to sign up as I entered the building.

I still remember the look on the recruiter's face when I requested to be hired. Just filling in the name and the age, that was all. "Danny.. that's it for your name?" the cigarette chewing mouth of a stalwart Punjab guy spoke. He gave me a rifle and a pistol and pointed out a direction, "Just go there, that's your dorm," and he winked. "And be quick about it- the beds are limited. Last one have to stand guard for the rest of the night,"

I scrabbled my things quickly and sprinted off into the direction that was pointed out. My sling bag, containing what little clothes I had, a comb, mirror and some basic washing up necessities. My bag could only fit so much. I slung the rifle onto my shoulder and stuff the pistol into my sling bag as I walked briskly towards the dorm.

Walking into the gloominess of the dimly lit dorm room from the recruiter's office, I quickly scrambled to a bed and put my stuff there. I looked at a clock hanging on the wall at the entrance of the dorm room. It was already late night, 2.30am. I must've been walking all day.

And then there was this dude, a dark Indian guy was clambering up the ladder and heaving itself onto the upper tier of the double decker bunk bed I was given. There were huge creaking sounds as he landed at the top, with me silently praying the bed's frames won't give way and me becoming the casualty of a war I haven't even fought.

Suddenly there was a loud sound, more like someone trying to blow a distorted trumpet, and then the lights were off. I heard many steps shuffling vigorously, with the rushing tap-tap of people clambering onto their upper beds and then there was a loud, piercing shout, "4am! Fighting practice!"

~End branch 1 part 1~

Like any kid before his hormones hit in, he sure was, with the influence of cartoons and video games at the time, would've thought, or more likely, imagined that he would be a warrior of some kind. Battling evil wizards and tyrant leaders with armies of diabolical numbers as well entities with a sword bigger than me and a gun that's surely screams fear in the hearts of my enemies.

I used to jump around, waving an iron ruler or hanger, anything that has long reach or simply swinging and invisible blade around my person towards my fellow imaginary unseen hordes of soldiers against me, like an invincible warlord.

As I age, the childish flame seem to burn brightly within the dark recesses of the mind which, full of new responsibilities and problems seemingly choking the very existence of that childishness itself. When I sooner believed that I would never become a demon slaying swordsman with big guns and bigger swords, that's when it happened.

I became a fighter, a warrior that fights for his country. Not politically. But rather by taking up arms against one another.

The political state of the country that I live in, in the year of 2034, has degraded to the boiling point by high records of corruption, misplaced budget funds totalling to billions, the ever growing discontent of the people and the cherry on the cake; racism. It is war by itself on the streets. Races, religions going against one another. Economy had halted to a standstill; foreign powers do not wish to invest in a country where workers turn on one another because they are not of the same colour.

The current government's methods of peacemaking, slowly moved on to the dictatorial approach of peacekeeping. Government troops and reserve armies pouring on streets, taking over unsettled areas, and backing up a certain race with eradicating others. The current monarch system has assumed full control of the government, with the dissolution of ministerial and directorial posts, monarchs imposed their own loyalists into administering their needs, as well the armed forces into their hands.

This is the country I live in at the moment. The riotous views on the streets, government troops shooting down civilians, people suiciding from tall buildings, and corpses litter the parks, streets, are just a small, tiny fraction of the things that are happening around me.

Not all is gloom however. Few resistance factions that are opposed to the current government, which is conveniently headed by the legacy of the late Prime Minister. I am a part of one of those factions, taking up arms and killing another man so as to defend my faction's ideals.

Well those few days were an absolute emotional train track gone of the tracks.. I completely lost it.

Although I am known to keep my cool most of the time (I have references) but when I lose my head, it will be all over the floor, shattered and scattered. It took me a while to find myself back in order..

Regardless, after a knocking round or two by a couple of friends of mine, I am glad to announce.. that me is back on track, and ready to lay waste on this university who is trying so hard to suck off my money by purposefully putting me in such a dreadfully financially prone position *inhalessssss*

Yeah.

So to speak, I would like address another mishap that has rather happened to me lately. But first, I would to say that, helping others, doesn't carry much weight as it used to be back in the old days. In relation to that, I would say, that after much helping someone with their tasks, I myself have lost my innate ability to write, to expound, to rabble, or to CRAP.

Yes folks, I have noticed, that my writing has sort of like.. siphoned off while helping with them tasks. Ridiculous notion, but when you're placed in my shoes, my boots, my flip flops or whatever, the train of thought tend to bring me to the ludicrous implications (causes) never would've conceived by a person who is actually sober.

Mash that, I gotten over that, and I am building up them skills to help out with the only thing I actually find I am good at; (hell, it rhymed?) Writing.

Nixing these words, I am heading to fix my life all over again. The Man-Up-Top or God, He has thrown me another Get-Out-Of-The-Unfixable card for the umpteenth time despite me being severely lacking in deposits of my religious account up there in St. Peter's books. For all that I know, I do think however, He wants me to once again walk the right path. I am striving however, I am doing my best.. or that's what I think. Religious wise, I will save this for another long winded post.

If there was anyone kind, and supple and pretty, as well having an eye for good literature, that reads this, I assure you, what you are reading is the utter nonsensical ramblings of a mid-adult crisis student in a middle of blazin' nowhere university.

*winks*

Out. Been a while since I wrote my heart out like this. No, I am not aspiring to be another crappy vampire love story writer.

Out. for real.

Amazing how life makes a fool out of me.

Gifted with wonderful parents, a wonderful family, and an overall good life.

But

I was not granted the ability to think decisively when selecting my choice of... everything else these 20 years.

Choice of friends? I surely have made a blunder of myself. Thanks to my overtly shy attitude. I have people walking to me instead of me walking to them. Indirectly, I sorta become indebted to them. For that, I am like a shadow in most gatherings. My words won't hold sway, my actions won't prick the tiniest minds, and my presence is like the wind- It is felt, but it is gone as soon as you have felt it.

Choice of relationships?

I am an idiot when it comes to this. Chasing after a girl for 7 years, I surmised that what I was doing was not 'sweet', it was more of a pinch of stupidity, mixed with a half cup of desperation and a full gallon of shyness. I can't even find a right girl to court with. Imagine 7 years of your life, wasted just like that, it is gone, it won't come back. And yet that glimmer of hope refuse to extinguish itself. That's my curse. My punishment. My idiotic tenacity.

I mean, she already said no plenty of times. That's me.

Choice of studies.

I can't even decide what to do in my life. It is all about prestige, money, glamour. It is never about doing what you really want. I am doing something I hate since my early secondary days - scientific stuff. All I ever wanted to do, is to write, and to learn languages, and learn about the human history. I am a person who is not at all interested, in the trappings of the digital world, or even the Ethernet driven society of today. I just want to write, let people read and I want to speak and learn the many cultures and languages in the world.

It is never about looking forward for me.

Now stagnant in a university that I am starting to grow and hate, I am helpless, chained like a poisoned animal in a cage, dying slowly in its shackles. I just got word that I did badly last semester, and my education loan is anything but approved. And my parents have no money left.

And the course I took is dead costly. Brilliant course of action in my part, if I said so myself.

So you see my forever invisible readers?

My life is pretty messed up.

I rather trade poverty for diligence in studies,

I rather trade my English fluency to any other languages,

I rather trade this life for another, where I could be alone in some foreign country,

I rather would want to be independent and alone, rather than have everyone who seems to have you back but not actually - which is more or less the same.

But if I do have a wish at all, is to do what I want right. for once. in this sorrowful, sad life of mine.

Out.

falling..

and falling deeper into the torrid blackness.

Light seems to be a distant memory.

Voices start to call out the names.

Voices soon grew into chants.

And the chants soon grew into disembodied screams.

stop.

Stands up.

But sees nothing except the endless void.

Soon it crumbles.

And it falls under the feet.

Screams seem to fade, muffled.

Writhing hands seem to feel.

Images start to project across the mind.

A pair of red eyes bore into the very hem of the spirit.

All in shattered

A shell that is left.

Life’s a waking nightmare for me. At least.

Pardon the emotional tagline in the beginning of this post. It had been a long time since I posted one here, but I am not in the mood to even apologize for it.

That’s how sore I am at the moment.

Funny… I don’t even know what I am pissed at. My friends? Money? Girls?

Or maybe the lack of sleep? Or the stagnancy in my ability to produce in this godforsaken university in the middle of a bloody halal hell in the middle of nowhere?

Or Microsoft’s word incessant green lining my sentences boldly proclaiming my grammar sentences or fragmented phrases?

For MS Word, those green lined phrases, they’re RHETORICAL QUESTIONS.

Back to the topic at hand.

Sitting here in a library where the environs are akin to a mental hospital, what with the white washed walls, decaying steel polymer pillars, and the hundreds of lights that dot the entire ceiling of the library. The whole setting gives off an eerie, deranged feel, where even the patrons look like the inmates if stared long enough.

The internet here is primarily pissing the living, scuttling soul of mine off into the depths of inhuman rage, to the point where I would just want to take the laptop and smash it into bits.

I hate the complaining of the fools that can’t answer their questions.

I hate the slow, mentally disturbed atmosphere of the library.

I hate not having money and a car.

I hate doing the studies that I should be doing instead of writing this.

I hate being emo like this. It’s so gay.

I hate her.

I hate being incapable of stopping myself.

Felicitations to an angry squawk of a blog.

When Spiderman received his powers, he said it was more of a curse, than a gift. Yeah la, maybe it is because his uncle died, left his aunt alone, and he cannot marry the one he loves. Because the city he is living in can't seem to stand on its own feet without him.

This superhero crap can be related in a rather similar way to my life, as well as many other eldest siblings around this banana shaped peninsula of a country.

It many people's eyes, or the youngest siblings, they think being the eldest is somewhat of a blessing because we get everything first. I say nay! True we get everything first, including the beating, the screaming, the throwing things around-ing, insulting.. etc. I would like to state here that, being eldest is like a blessing, ONLY in them filthy stinking rich families where they eat shit sleep money everyday. For us middle class eldest brothers/sisters, it is more like a curse.

I have been going through this same shit over and over again for the past years. Some say scolding and hurtful insulting is a means of motivation to do better. Yeah, better for the blossoming of the murdering capacity that all humans seem to have. If you ask me, it is not good for the development of character. Particularly if it is that someone you want to be an example of for the younger children.

And there is this, comparing. Day in and out, parents just have to compare their eldest to their younger siblings. OK, maybe if the eldest f*cked up in his studies once, that doesn't mean that the parents should go and harp about it every single day of the months in a year. A really, awesome, ineffective way to increase self esteem, way to go team mom and dad!

Hums "Where is the Love" by Black Eyed Peas

I love my mum and dad. Even if I get hurled with filthy abuses about me, my life and my friends, I still love them. Hats down to them for struggling to make my life alot easier and better. I just wish sometimes that, they don't put us eldest children aside all the time and shower the most attention on the younger ones.

I think that is enough. Out.

Just to begin to write the post only.. one part of the library blacked out. In fear of my PC (which is in ANOTHER part of the same library) I think this will be a really quick one la..

I sometimes.. think that most of my post are related to about how teruk my bachelor life is. It is true la, as there is not one, I apparently noticed, semua pun masuk pasal perempuan punya cerita in every single post here. Don't want to cheong hei so much in this article or talk kanasai stuff here..

Regardless, I might just consider my blog to be some sort of a virtual online diary so people can read and weep or gelak sampai mampus. Your choice, tuan tuan dan puan puan sekalian. My daily accounts, summarized in one glorious (maybe long) post, and might just bore the living shit out of you, maybe just.. make you laugh abit la right. Come on, something must be funny somewhere around here ok.

Like hell la wei, I sitting down on a terminal where it's facing the library's entrance. Seeing all those minah melayu and chinese leng luis and indian.. ermm girls. Most entered so far was Malay girls and uh.. orang luar girls. Iranian, Pakistan, Arab, Iraq, I pun memang tak kisah. they all look more or less the same anyways. Not to say no boys entered, just I don't really give a damn about them.

My room mate was like walking back at forth for the past half an hour to the same public library terminal. Ask him what happen, he just shakes his head like our Prime Minister in the year 1960- something when Lee Kuan Yew as for bumiputra status for the Chinese. And now he is back again, doing apa pun saya tak tau.

I am sure many have noticed that I didn't include lousy language like in most blogs. Thing is, I memang cannot use bad language with when writing anything, be it essays, complaints or posts.

*pauses and stares at hot Middle-Eastern girl that just entered*

So yeah, I think you people have noticed, as well, that I used several Bahasa and Chinese words in this post. Just a lame/vain/lousy/ridiculous/inspiring attempt to make my post don't sound so kwai lou-ish.

Love my country. Not the damn asses in Putrajaya.
Out.

I think,

that yesterday was one of the highlights of my life.
something's going to happen on Chinese New Year.

about a song that is floating aimlessly in head since yesterday.
the Limkokwing University is awesome, save the fact it doesn't have engineering facilities.
politics in this country is a sham.
Arsenal should stop whining and get a move on.

KTM should stop its service, and transfer ownership to someone that is more capable.
I messed up by calling a friend of mine an alien.
I should not get a foreign girl as my bride to be.
the water service in this hostel of mine sucks.

finally, things are looking up for the first time in this life of mine
Unheilig is a great German musician.
I love to listen mellow songs now for some reason
MMU is fine.
I want to sever connections with ones I called "friends" from my former school.
I need to buy a new phone.
To get a degree First Class so I don't need to pay off my loan.

Had a pretty rough, yet entertaining week.

I had witnessed a full on indecisiveness.
Had seen a driver going nuts on the road because of drowsiness.
Experienced a moment of embarrassment.
And,
I know I am going to get royally screwed anally this week. Should I submit a few things late.

Chinese class was entertaining. Yes. I can learn how to speak in Chinese, affirming my Chinese heritage, being born of Indian and Chinese parentage.

MMU is real nice as well. Made a few friends.. now I am group leader for some sales division. With no knowledge whatsoever to sell what in Cyberjaya, a city that has everything what a city wants, but far away from everything it needs (i.e: Mid Valley, Times Square, etc).

I got great news however.
It seems I could not get to romance this year (not that I haven't tried for the past 5 years), as the relationship wouldn't last.
Funny though, I never had the intention of finding a companion just yet.
Maybe I am too self centered?

My laptop is threatening to go to the afterlife, what with the sounds it makes.
Need a new, expensive, top of the line hardware to satiate my hunger for technology.
But being in Malaysia, that kind of hunger is often overlooked.

I am doing senseless typing here in a MMU library.
Spotting chicks, only to find out they speak with a strong, yet,
Indonesian, Arabic slang of English.
Kills the desire fast enough.

Internet here is real blazing fast.
Makes Streamyx appear like the government's policy on doing jobs,
Slow, Steady, inefficient.
Downloading "materials" has ne'er been sweeter than this.

I'm bored.
No classes till tomorrow morning.
With 3 subjects for an entire semester,
My dad wonders whether am I studying or not.