Not going to exactly apologize. Not me, not for being absent from the internet blogging universe.

Then again, who am I going to apologize to exactly?

Maybe that one reader, and yes I am sorry for being MIA these past few weeks.

Don't know what to write exactly, just to speak that these few weeks have been quite rocky, none plain sailing in any way possible.

Or if you really want a clue of what happened for the last few weeks, here it is:


Can't be more specific than that.

See you soon!

Wow. I am literally on the brink of euthanasia. Towards myself.
It is sort of a mercy on myself and the lives around me I suppose.

I realized I have sunk deeper than deep into the callous mire of failure. Imagine that, I never felt as useless like this in this entire 2-bit life of mine.

Uninteresting, not even half as good looking, shy, callous humor, can't even write well, and can't even make a good lasting impression on friends.

Study wise? I am killing myself. I am doing something I literally hate. I have no idea how many times I have written this at all in my posts. Gosh, I must really despise what I am studying at the moment.

And even now in the dead of the night, I can still write about this. Why? I need to let this out before these pent up feelings consume me and my life as well. Really. I never felt this close to the Reaper's scythe ever by will before. I was always the cheerful kind. I took things lightheartedly. Although things looked bad, I would always look at it in a positive manner, I things would be solved.

Now, I have entered a zone where impossible seems to be the very trend when it comes to scoring good marks for my subjects. It seems grades are the very measure of friendship in this university life; not good grades, can't talk well, you are best left alone.
Too smart, and people would shy away from you, only treating you like an accessory when things need to be done.

However, it is the darkest before dawn. The problem with studying your hardest for anything, working your hardest for anything in this life. It is that when you do all that, your end result sometimes will end with nothing, or it yields a small fraction of the effort that was put in. A real put off. This happened to me, and it is rather a dispirited effect to the mind. The mind will be led into thinking that the only door is open is failure. Because even if you worked your hardest, yet you're not rewarded accordingly, what is exactly the point of striving?

And then my parents. I am a guy, yet, I cried when I heard they still had hopes for me, even when I know that I am taking a one way direction towards failure. How does that make you feel? There is no other feeling in this world like that. My parents love me so much, I am blessed to even have such wonderful parents. Failure after failure in my life, yet my parents still think that I have it in me to succeed one day.

But yet. I still remain the failure I am. The ugly duckling that never grew up.

Enough.

Greetings.

This is the first post I have written (in a while) that is NOT something about a story of a wasteland that is so close to home.

That's it for preview.

Part of me would want to wish my reader(s) a New Year greeting, but the lack of responses (or bodies) that I have noticed for some time, compels me to do so. (Or take this statement as a New Year greeting if you would)

Life has been quite the b*tch the past year. 2010. It was a year that I was willing to forget. Wasted opportunities, girls, choice in friends (and studies T_T). Compressing those, it was an all round streak of horrible (and contemplate-able) decisions. Even I sit here and wonder as I pen this (or type), why am I even here at all? Not saying that Engineering isn't my passion, but actually writing is.

Look at how I take the time of a beautiful but rainy, Sunday evening just to pen a senseless blog. Where I could've hunkered down to the library, shut down my computer, and pore over illegible writings and write down even more illegible formulas. If it was vice versa, I tell you now. I could've reached the heights of even entering a Dean's List, scholarships abound, offers to study overseas in droves waiting for the stroke of my pen.

*sigh*

Sadly writing is considered a "non-paying" job or "not-enough income" and maybe "who would want to employ you" statements from EVERYONE in this third world minded country. Sometimes I look at my writings and I would be proud of them. Because I conceived something, literally out of nothing.

Previously, I had a friend, a fellow writer to read some of my writings and comment on them. The response she gave me, it was actually good. I even pressed her to be honest about it. She said it was. If you are reading this Liz, thanks! Thanks aplenty! I felt as if I am some proud mom/dad looking at their child being praised by teachers. *cue puffing and huffing nose sound*

I have friends who have descended into the realm of studies and working, and some into just plain studying to impress their parents, or studying, to gain an MBA and to get a job overseas and stay there. Nowadays, in my opinion I would say, studying these days are all just about getting good grades, getting a good job, a wife, a house, a successful career. No one exactly asks you what you want to do.

I see many of my friends are in that stature. Probably I am too. But this, keeping a small space in the vast Internet, and to write what I think, let my mind out. It keeps me sane and to remind me who I really am, and what I really want.

Out.

I said too much as it is.

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.

The last post was bad. I know. I cannot be bothered in writing about the sad state our music have fallen into. It would bore the very skeletal being within you, forcing whatever energy left in your subconscious mind to stop reading.

And, I want to compensate for my last post. It was really bad. Mistakes dot the post like thorns on a durian, the post was also enveloped in a fog-like boringness. There is no saving that one. My worst of my entire blogging career..

Hence the rectification. I want to rant today, on a particular aspect of a relationship. No, maybe two. They're trust, and "space"

Trust is self explanatory. But space.. is like giving your girl / boy some time alone, not intruding 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in the duration of your relationship.

As with all my previous posts.. I want to keep this short and sweet as well. Just to give you readers that are already into a relationship, getting into one, or haven't got yet, a glimpse of reality.

Just what is relationship without trust? I mean, don't have it at all, if you cannot trust your boy or your girl. Really, if she cannot tell you that she's having a threesome with a white guy and a black guy, I don't think you need to tell her you're screwing her mother and sister in her house. End the relationship. End of story. Find someone else who's willing to share their life with you, someone that is trustable, and you, don't be keeping a wardrobe full skeletons instead.

Trust her. Or if you don't, give her the chance to let her prove that she is a trustable person. Vice versa for the girls as well. I know many of you have a short fuse especially during "that time of the month" or "28 days".. Be cool. 

And...

Spaces. We need our own space. All humans do. Even the beggars at the roadside, they have their own space, you don't see any other beggars coming to intrude in. Okay, maybe not that kind of space. I mean here is, personal. A time in our daily lives, where we escape to do what we like. Like watching football, a night out with the guys or saving the world by blowing up a dangerous nuclear missile from the confines of the PC in a bedroom.

Ladies and  gents,

I want to tell you that, to give each other time to miss each other. Take note: Absence, makes the heart grow fonder. This sentence never rang any truer than it is now. If you keep pouring messages and calls every hour of the day, 7 days a week, you would say you are showering your life for  her, by taking note of her daily activities.

I would effin say that it is a big waste of your parents' money in phone bills (or prepaid cards), a complete waste of your time and your partner (because it makes you look like someone who has nothing else to do) and lastly, you sound like a needy freakish/stalker/obsessed person.

*exhales loudly*

I think that all there is to say on this matter.. take note ladies and gents. I know, these kinds of  advice comes for free almost everyday (TheStar on Sundays and Wednesdays), or monthly (CLEO, HerWorld, Seventeen, ForHimMagazine "FHM" and OMG, Galaxie).

No point you look at horoscopes at the back flap of a Galaxie magazine or in the Star Two section of TheStar if you cannot even rectify thine mistakes. 

Said too much. Probably this be my longest ever.rofl. 

Right. Long absence, no?

I know, things happened, things got f*cked up, and things are still staying that way.

Never mind that, I have plenty to tell.. but not in this post. Remember, this is the continuation of my last post (which was about Twilight and 2012).

By all accounts, I have plenty to complain, rant, crap, write, expound and *bla bla..* about the music in this country.

Most of all, what is up with the Malaysian media scene trying to emulate the US? Channel V, MTV Asia, Hitz.fm's morning gossip with some random Hollywood insider, Mr.I-don't-give-a-rat-ass-about-what-what-people-think, overplaying of songs on all the radio channels (hitz.fm replayed Sean Paul's Temperature for like 7 times in 5 hours.), and frankly, the music is getting worse everytime is played.

I know, a little publicity here and there, little music to spice the day and stuff.. and..

*Pauses iTunes*

No, I talk too much, you readers think I am biased, a hater against all things good from the radio. Instead, I get some random gay screeching into the mike with very bad guitar and fake bass and not too bad drums (srsly, when drumbeats are bad?) every, single, f*cking time I turn the radio dial. If not guys, some tone-deaf female wailing that bangs on my ear drums like a horny Chihuahua humping a doll.

Whatever happened to the music quality today? It keeps getting worse every year.

*resumes iTunes*

That's it. I am done. I off to listening to "obscure", "weird", "unpopular" and "foreign" music which occupies the entire iTunes library of mine.

P.S: *this post... effin overdue!* =P

Right, so the title speaks for itself. On the movies part, I am going to discuss something I just watched (2012) and something that I will never watch (New Moon).

For music, I am going to rant about how degraded, disgraced the mainstream media these days. Yes, mediums such as MTV, Channel V and Hitz.Fm tops my list as purveyors of crap music.

Moons. Yeah, some Twilight-bashing.


*cracks knuckles*

Okay.. I watched about a movie, 2012? Blew me off my seat there. True to hell apocalyptic scenes of the Earth. Massive quakes, massive volcanoes and massive tsunamis. Truly eye candy, as the movie displays some of the most drooling CGI sequences. Those tsunamis and volcano eruptions looked awfully real for sure. And lastly the arks they used to save the humans, truly a sight.

But still, as good the movie is, I was a bit fazed by the part where John Cusack was driving frantically away from the apocalypse that was happening in his backyard. He was driving with the skill and speed that puts the Fast and Furious series to shame. I mean, who can execute a perfect drift and outrun an earthquake crack right under the tyres in a flipping LIMOUSINE?? That is the only part of the movie that look ridiculously unrealistic. But I enjoyed the chase though.

I sound like a critic. Oh right, about New Moon. I saw the trailer, there was that semi-nude werewolf saving the heroine who got a paper cut at the beginning before she got bitten by a black vampire with Bob Marley (bless him) hair. That much, I can say for the movie. And the only reason I watched the trailer because a female friend of mine beside me forced me to. Being a gentleman, how can I refuse? I wasted around a minute of my life watching that tripe. Half naked man into totally naked dog. Wonder what is he wearing when he transforms back though?
Ohh..... that explains the swarms of teenage girls to that movie.. *winks*


And yeah, I am so not used to writing long posts. It bores me and my readers to no end. No one likes reading long stuff unless they HAVE to. Like reading/ revising your excruciatingly long, boring History or Biology texts before the finals.

Outside.

Anyway..

I been getting some beautiful responses from what an otherwise redundant blogging community of mine.

Blogging is my means of keeping my English intact, as for the past 3 years, I haven't been getting proper English education.

Firstly, my life. I know, this whole blogging about my life thing is so Facebook-ish. But then, in Facebook, people don't give a rat's bottom about how your life is. They only care how you look, how often you hit Mafia Wars, or how many lame interviews and quizzes you answer or post on someone else's page. More on FB later.

However, my life as I say to you now, is akin to the political clamour in this country. It doesn't have a particular direction. All decisions made by me, are actually the really wrong ones. In life, education, even love and money, I did not make a single right one.

Blah on my life. That's all I need to write. Seriously, I felt lame a moment there because i ACTUALLY complained about my life on blogger. Infinitely gay. Like one of those vampire-emo-long hair-MCR kind of vibe that is going on these days with the Twi-f*ckin-light disease spreading faster than the pig flu (H1N1) .

Twilight. Let me get this straight. I don't wanna sound like a Neanderthal (a really, hairy, dumb caveman) because I am bashing that movie in this blog post. But, reality bares its ugly fangs (like Edward "Fruitbat" Cullen). There are some people who:

1. Absolutely loves the movie to the point kisses Edward "Paleface" Cullen on his movie poster. (Applies to girls 15-19 yrs old)
2. Buys the story books, watches the movie and go gaga over that topless dog *ahem* WEREWOLF. (Still 15-19 yrs old fan girls)
3. Watches the movie for the sake of it. (For men who are forced by their women)
4. Watches the movie for Kristin "Simple" Stewart (Guys who are desperate)
5. Plain hates it. (Me)

I have oh-so-much to write about this movie-series-story-vampire-bull epidemic that is swarming all over the world. But I don't want to be too hard on this, as there are many (possible) readers that are staunch, die hard Edward "Eddie" Cullen fans. And he is the vampire in question of the movie. What happened to Dracula? Lestat? My oh my.. vampires, supposed to be feared as bloodsucking creeps of the night, reduced to emotional, pale, handsome, cool vibe going on.

A *cough* vampire. Edward "Flyboy" Cullen-->

<-- A real vampire. "Nasty Ears" Nosferatu


I guess enough is enough. If i did decide to flame Twilight all at once tonight, I will die of extreme exhaustion of writing all the way until morning.

Besides, you people don't like reading long stuff isn't it?

Out.

O PLEASE.........

whatever kind soul out there... God Bless Thee.......

I ask thee a tiny favour..

I beg thee kindest soulth..thou please be commenting on this post, or any post here for all that matter.

I be trying out a new template.. the last one sucketh a$$ like time's big needles on Big Ben.. it stopped people from praising me..

............or spitting acid..................screweth they. NOT THOU!!


regardless, I thank you all in advance!!

I am SO perplexed right now..

No flipping idea..

What I am I thinking?

Why do I need to take a look see 10 years in the future? Or better said, I created, edited, produced, advertised my own future in my head.

Visualizing all kinds of seemingly random bits and parts of my daydreams pasted together in a nice show.

The cars, house, overseas career is fine and dandy. But why in the flipping vestiges of my sanity that I fast forwarded my romance situation? So I can have a better view of what awaits me?

Many choices erupted in my head. Unlikely ones, obviously.

Maybe its a kind of feel good thing. Who knows. But I wonder that my constant recreation of my own personal rendition of life (Idling, Sleeping, Online, Chatting) would actually become true?

Nah.

Seeing is believing. If you could actually see what I think, in a nice 16:9 screen with ample sound, you'd laugh the shit of your pants. No shit.

Luckily no one could. I'd die of laughter myself.

Listening to Kavinsky's Testarossa - Sebastian Remix (not to be confused with Kaspersky) while jotting this confusing, meaning(less) entry down.

Out.

I don't know why of all people, me! I wonder about it all the time.

No matter how many times I read the Bible, pray and ask for forgiveness every time I commit the unholy act, I feel it is not enough.

What I am doing is not small. It is not enough to redeem myself.

And then, once I prayed, make a solemn vow not to repeat it again, I do it the next day. What is it? You ask?

No I am not ready to disclose it yet..

Just that it has a powerful grip on me like smoking, alcohol addiction, drugs and the like.

This.. is grim.

Every time after I sin, I feel the guilt washing over me in a flowing tide. So heavy, until I feel everything that is around me is wrong. Wrong, to the point things really happen the other way round for me.

Is that punishment from above? This little things that happen to me after I sin?

I do not think so.

I believe the Lord's punishment surely have a deeper, more profound meaning on me than all the small wrongs that happen to me during daylight and nighttime every time after I sin.

Again, you must wonder I always use the word "sin". I may have mentioned it earlier, but please, do not press me on that subject. When I am ready, I will tell you all.

Sin has already a grip on me since I was born. Nothing strange there. But this specific deed, it has been already 5 years when I was shackled under the steel fist of this particular sin.

I curse myself sometimes. I always vow to revert back to my younger, usual self by stopping it. Only, to fail, to fall in the waiting hands of temptation, a blade thrust into my hands to cut through my willpower, walking into the filthy den of sin.

I never wrote anything of this nature, ever. Weird, no?

I hate myself for doing this sin. I hate myself even more for even unable to control myself. And the worst, I knew the consequences even when I was sinning. I am no different than a chain smoker who tells the world he wishes to quit, or the drunk who goes to the bar every night claiming its his last bottle.

Call this a confession if you may. I am just pouring this out for it has been building up like a raging maelstrom in my mind, body, spirit.


Again, I ask forgiveness from my Father, the Lord for forgiveness, wishing help and guidance from Him always. For I love the Father. He has helped me countless times when I am in pain, trouble or anything that seems wrong happen to me. I call out His name, and he answers like a father would to his child. What good am I if I, a child of God, cannot even reply in kind? Can't I obey His will? That is what He wants from all of us!

I pray the Father forgives me for my sin that I have committed. I want to walk in the ways of the righteous, not the path of sinful decay. A solemn prayer, so I would not want to sin again, at least not this grave, filthy habitual sin of mine.

Amen.