It has been sometime, I admit, since I actually wrote something here.
It has only been a week and by my reckoning, it has been far too long indeed.

What, you were expecting something factual, or a curse-laced rambling about... something?

Anyway, I'd like to give whatever little readers here a small preview about an upcoming historical novel that I am actually writing. I have been thinking about writing something that is related to the Malaysian history, which is during the time where Malacca was at its prosperous era. It is about an European guy that sets foot in the Malay Peninsula for the first time in 1509, and well, about the events that eventually led to the conquest of Malacca by the Portuguese.

Drab.

I know.

But I was considering something along the lines of this dude, where he helped the crummy Malaccan ruler at the time, Sultan Mahmud Shah from screwing things royally (pardon the pun) and therefore, create a parallel universe which is based on the prevented Portuguese attack. And from then on, I will weave my magic and see how the Malaccan Sultanate ends or it prospers.

Or, I might just use that history as my backdrop, and construct something that is very Dan Brown-esque, with a historical relic, assassin, nerdy professor, intelligent foreign chick, the whole nine yards. Apparently that seems to be the formula for most mystery-relic-running across countries kind of stories that I read..


And then, I would form a historical backdrop and modern day Malaysia, transitioning between each other as the story progresses..

Or,

You know what, do hand me your suggestions and I will try to make sense of them as I am trying with my mind at the moment. I could use some help. Who knows, when I actually get this thing published, YOUR name, yes, I repeat, YOUR name, will be at the first page. Some sort of dedication if you will.

Alright...
Going to continue my research into the history of Malacca with the aid of the Internet (once again).

But seriously though, if this project does seriously take flight, I may have to actually consult scholars on Malaysian history and do a little museum visits. Let's see how it goes..

See ya.

Frankly, I don't write reviews.

I deem reviews are basically is just one man's opinion about something that people can fall back upon. Reviews about movie, music, even literature, practically dot the seemingly volatile condition of the mass media in the present. Reviews are would, say, something to become a point of reference before anyone would buy a music CD, or a book, or even to purchase a movie ticket. Or in this Internet-slash-Piracy age, the aforementioned items are easily obtained from the vast recesses of the Net.

But piracy and its symbolic greatness of freedom against oppression, is hardly the thing that I would want to elaborate at this moment in time.

My opinion on reviews has been basically the same - not credible and hardly represents the actual value of said items. Hence that's why I do not write reviews. I face the possibility of my writing to be dismissed by some Bieber freak or ripped to shreds by a Twitard.

However, I have read something special that is written by a dear friend, and it somehow drove me to write something about it. Honestly, this friend of mine, a girl, she didn't want me to read her works before and now I still wonder why she let me read this time round. The written material in question is, an obituary that is supposedly an assignment.

Let me blunt for a moment here; obituaries are depressing and hardly the kind of thing you want to read on a Sunday morning. In the newspapers, I doubt anyone would want to flip to the obituaries section in the actual time you get it moments after being tossed by the paperboy in the morning. It's either the sports section or the front page.

There I go again, railing off the track on purpose.

What's different about this particular obituary is that, it is written with a passion so fiery and loving at the same time. It is a work of someone who had loved and lived with the departed and misses her dearly. The language needless to say, it is flawless, with a lot of touching phrases in line with quotes from infamous individuals. But, the selling point of this obituary is that, the emotions that conveyed in every each sentence. As I read, the emotions reached out to me with its caressing fingers, and snaked into the dark recesses of my inner emotions and practically, moved me to bits.

In a light moment, stuff like this are only written with the assistance of Hans Zimmer's Davy Jones Theme. Sombre and somehow uplifting.

That is how the obituary was. The writer did not lament the loss of her dear departed so grievously, but at the same time writes about her deeds and how everyone misses her. Admittedly, it was something that I would want someone to write about me when I actually leave this oh so cruel world.. Morbid much?

If only the lecturer that graded her essay/obituary could read this dear post of mine. I would adjure her to actually give this piece of work a standing ovation in class, and of course a highly distinctive recognition to it. If her lecturer didn't, and assuming the lecturer is a female, I would personally regard this "qualified" person as another cold, heartless academician that only regards flowery words and "witty" phrases. Like there isn't enough already from British comedians or shockingly unfunny Malaysian comedians.

Wrapping this up, I would say to you, my dear writer, continue writing! And keep at it! You are seriously, stupendously amazing.

I SERIOUSLY,

Got to get this out of my mind immediately before it actually burns a part of the sane storage device of physical being; my brain.

The part where common sense and tolerance go hand in hand and function together.

My room mate, even after a food poisoning incident in which, I helped him to get to the hospital in Putrajaya. Wheeled him all the way in the wheelchair and even called the transport to get us back and forth from the hostel and there.

If it is not for that event, I doubt we will even have remote conversation beyond the occasional "off the lights?" or " I borrow _____".

Now, at least we are having some conversation. About games and general stuff. And not very often as he is always, I repeat, ALWAYS on his PC whenever he was in the room. Most of the time MSN-ing with his girlfriend or playing some high-end games.

At this point I must sound like a jealous, scorned girlfriend who was left dumped by her happy go lucky dude at the mall because he wanted to play pool or a kopitiam session at the local mamak shop.

Even I wouldn't even consider writing this here, you know. But things have actually stretched to the point where I am actually getting irritated because of his behavior. Which, are listed in a few eloquent points below:


-Switching on ridiculously loud gaming noises from your PC?

I know you have subjects that relate to game designing and requires you to expend hours of your life in a day dedicated to gaming. But, it would be far more preferable if you kept the sounds to your own ears. I am pretty sure technology has significantly improved especially in terms of expelling garbage to your ears and making you deaf before you turn 40.

Or... wait a minute! You spent 4 grand on that gaming rig itself, don't tell me they didn't even provide you with a headphone? Those lying basta*ds! They ripped you off! Even a tiny headphone?? Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo~ that's not the way to do business man...

Keep the gaming developing process to yourself. Please. Us engineering students have a future to look to.


-Unplugging my LAN cable SPECIFICALLY from the router.

Just mine. That little blue cable.
So the line with is supposed to be SHARED and whatever little bandwidth that is provided, is entirely scoffed by his fervent, almost religious downloading and uploading activity. In which I can surmise, an important task, given the amount of games he download and upload daily.

As a frequent user of blogging and actual socializing and some minor downloading, I find it is a rather very distasteful attempt to hoard the entire trickle of downloading speed to yourself. Do spare some for the Banana Chinese that uses only a laptop in the corner of the room eh?


-Throwing his clothes around to even my part of the room.

See, this is where gets thoroughly irritating. I am pretty sure it is rather disturbing and absolutely mortifying to see an undergarment in the part where you reside in a shared hostel room. As with these little undergarments (note I am using it in a plural form. Use your imagination), it is horrid enough for me to come back after a long day and actually stepping on one.

Leaves much to the imagination, isn't it? And I agree wholly, the feeling is not a pleasant one.


- Switching off the room lights inadvertently without warning.

Picture this: You are lying down in bed after a long night completing assignments and have just studied for an upcoming midterm. All you want is a good rest. And you pick up a favourite novel at your bedside, (romance, thriller, twilight) to read, and to relax you to sleep. As you are already, literally into the novel in a leisurely manner, darkness practically embraces you in its unfeeling arms and you are ripped away from the fantasy world. And in that instant, you are jolted back roughly into reality, and of course, cranky and annoyed.

It does not help with the slumber at all whatsoever.
Instead, it leaves you with seething tongue and unpleasant thoughts of fury.


So, with all that, you can actually come to the conclusion where my room mate treats the room like he actually rented it wholly from the university. For his personal purpose.



So my life here actually, its comparable to the way the Soviet system or the Nazis treated their people. With me being the common public in question.

Fun = Liberal Thinking = Rebellion

or

Books = Freedom Of Mind = Different Ideology = Rebellion

In America, you look at the mirror. In Soviet Russia, Mirror looks at you!
In France, you read a book. In Nazi Germany, Book READS you!

Ok I bluffed about the 1 week timeline.

I just need to get my mind of certain things, like some vices...

Ahem.

I just utilized the Internet to whatever potential it had today.

I found out the solutions for my in-a-week due assignment. It involved computer coding, some programming skills.

But I couldn't just copy it, no. So there is still some work to be done after all, and it doesn't seem that I am much interested in doing it at the moment.

Oh dear.
What is to become of me?

I am thinking of changing the title of my blog though. To something that is more catchy and probably that is not as abstract as the current one or immature as my previous ones.



Also,

There is simply something very degrading about the way I wrote my little phrase beneath the blog title.

"The less you know about this life, the better"

I just discovered how funny it sounds.
The less you know about who's life exactly? And why is it better?
Not as if it can get any better even if we know it. And why we want to know it?





And my revolution is still in progress.

Out with the introductory sequence I would say, at least nowadays. Because I just realized its somewhat homosexual to greet your readers, if there ARE any readers AND they are either male or female.



Or it is somewhat retarded or gila, when I greet something that doesn't exist.



Dispensing with the greetings, oh and one more thing.



I barely would want, especially now, to introduce what I am writing, like a summary behind JK Rowling books that barely explains the gist of the entire cerita. Which is very much what I have been doing since this little rant spot was birthed in somewhere the year 2006 because of an emotional breakdown or some teenage angst phase I am going through at that time.



Somewhat a cultural revolution that is happening here in this undistinguished, backwater, caved in, Sanctum-like spot of the 8th-circle of the Internet.



I have been doing some thinking as of late.

My little posts, are they boring? Are they the by-product of a low self esteemed teenager who wants to get back at society? Is this a stepping stone for a favoured writing career in a Malay spoken country?

Although I do adjure you to ignore the next two lines at that particularly explanatory paragraph.

Not that my content is uninteresting.

No.



Maybe is irrelevant to write about German music for the local Malaysians who, just plain gravitate to whatever local music they can grab with their pirated feelers within again, the Internet.



And maybe, it is rather incorrect to write my little depressed moments, ones that I am feeling down. You know, if you actually read it, ones that I will do something about it but in reality I never actually do?
Indeed. If people had a depressing article fetish they'd just go visit Berita Harian or Harian Metro site or just buy a Malay love novel. It is far easier to comprehend those materials rather than spending half the time comprehending what I wrote.



And lastly, I would probably want to stop crafting stories and actually posting it here. As said by a fellow writer and a reader (Hi there!), it is far more likely to get plagarised by some mud-eating secondary school drop out who's desperate for even the most mediocre of materials on the internet. Of course, ones that doesn't have a Copyright insignia or a copyright claim by the author.

I would beg to differ here, as my story, full of holes as it is, would be probably would pass on ignored, being granted an extra invisibility feature by Google. Seeing as I don't place their ads, they decided upon a free and exciting feature which I would loved to be applied on my physical being, which is invisibility.



Ah and FINALLY, probably the last and the most important part of my little semi-cultural revolution of my blog.

It is the part where I said I would continue my posts soon.

I sooner believed that I would continue them as Hitler would've given himself willingly to the Allies, or our glorious PM ceding power to his opposition counterpart.
To perpetuate an actual post here is a seemingly daft effort as I surmised.

Or as much eloquently I would put it, I will mean what I say.


That's it for the declaration of a language revolution here in this post.

AND


I would actually post something next week.



Oh and a little satire moment: