Ending

I've known you for so long
We have drifted apart somehow
Why? Why?
Why can't I prevent this?

I've known you for so long
You have turned cold towards me somehow
Why? Why?
Such a messy web

I didn't want to give up
Don't want to let you go
But yet I still do
Because I found out the truth

So this is how you look at me
How you think of me
When I valued your presence so much
It just turn you a backstabber

I choose this! I choose this!
I choose to allow this to happen
If not, you can't escape me
You can't leave my grasp

How do you perceive me?
Do you think I'd let go that easily?
Too late, I've set a curse
To make sure that you are burned into ashes
Even if you are ashes
I'd turn you into particles
Fly? No!
You'll deal with death!

But no, that's just not me
I prefer to let go
Your smile is that reason
If not, I'd sentence you for treason

Treachery?
Betrayal?
No, everyone's like that
I might too
But you'd done it first
I won't repeat your steps

I want to give this an ending
You and me shall remember
For you, I don't know
For me, a good ending
For both of us, a desire

Disclaimer : This is just my expression and no, it didn't happen in real life. I'm happy, studying, and still very much in love. Peace out.

My Blog List

I'm a self-proclaimed blog addict. I read blogs, day in, day out. I like reading blogs with really meaningful meaning, or just for pure entertainment. A lot of my friends have blogs, and I felt happy because I like how they construct their words sometimes. So, after reading a very long archive of a friend's blog, I've decided to list out my very own blog list, which are worth reading. Note, not all of them are in English, so for those who didn't know English, I'm really not too sure how to help you. And I'm not tech savvy, therefore, I don't know how to list out that list in my blog, however, it's good for you to click on their urls here. Some of them may not be friends, but still, they are worth reading:

1. 成慧 (http://chenghuiloh.blogspot.com/) This is in chinese

Just for the curious to know, the name is called Cheng Hui. I've always liked her style of writing. It really makes me feel like getting to know her more. Well in fact, I DO know her. She's one of my university friends. In fact, I've known her for more than a year now. I like her way of writing her feelings. Not too expressive, simple, just keep everyone guessing what she's thinking. She only let people close to her know what she really feels. Still, I like to read her blog. It really reflects the mood she's in. Not because of the colours, but by how she wrote it. But somehow, I just wish she update more, but I can't ask her to do that. It's her own blog after all, still, I'll always check whether does she have any other interesting stories to share.

2. 来自银月的信 (http://phantomthiefkid.spaces.live.com/) This is in chinese

The blog title is "From the letters of the silver moon". The blogger has told me the real meaning of the blog title, but this is confidential, therefore I will not disclose this information. The blogger has also wanted privacy, that is why the blogger didn't put his/her name. I've known this blogger since secondary school, and I like the blog. This is because the blogger would put up information on what is happening around while I'm clueless about it. The blogger would sometimes disclose information on what the blogger is feeling, and I would give comments once in a while. What I like about this blog is that because this blogger speaks his/her heart out just like any of us, just that it is in Chinese, not like other blogs that I've seen before I found this blog. Therefore, this blog is also worth checking out. I assure you, you'll never know how youths think until you've seen this blog.

3. Never follow the crowd (http://www.xanga.com/chintuguese)

This is a blog by Nigel John Pinto, a fellow blogger who attends the same university as me, though I never really had the intention to know him as a friend, I still like to browse his blog once in awhile. A self-proclaimed pervert, he keeps his blog posts open-minded and I get to see eye catching stories from his blog. I like the way he writes, maybe I can call him a new kind of thinking. I like the way he expresses himself differently than others, therefore, his everyday entries interests me alot. I always try to catch up with his news. Just keep it up Nigel. I may not know you, but I like your blog.

4. Education in Malaysia (http://educationmalaysia.blogspot.com/)

Funny how I came to know this blog. I was actually looking through a random girl's blog, and she had a link to go to this blog. And, from what I saw, that blog post was how one of the two bloggers, Tony Pua, doubting the qualities of my university. I was, at first, infuriated, like any "loyal" students would. But after giving it a deep thought, it seems reasonable and logical for the doubt. Since then, I've been an avid follower of the blog, occasionally posting comments to let them know my opinions once in a while. But the posts seems to lessen a bit since Tony Pua joined the political field, leaving the other blogger, Ong Kian Ming, keeping the blog alive. I'd like to point out that both of them had different styles of writing. While Tony Pua is seen as the more aggressive blogger, Kian Ming is more sensible in his writing, seemingly more rational than the other, even though Tony's blog posts are also rational. Still, I like both of them, and I'll wait for Tony's blogging frequency to increase.

5. When Routine isn't exactly Normal (http://www.kennysia.com/)

This is currently another blog that I frequent to, mainly because of his humourous posts, and his thought provoking pictures (er-hem). I know I'm a little late of knowing Kenny Sia, but I wasn't really interested into knowing great bloggers, (plus, I didn't have their blog URLs) so, Kenny is the first great blogger that I've browsed through. And I don't regret doing that. I got so addicted to Kenny Sia, that I went through his archives to find the more funny posts he had before now. And his blog is clearly showing how much two years have made him a changed man. From being repulsive and loud, he now changes his focus to "safe humour", because his blog has become more and more popular. Of course, I'd like to see the repulsive side of him once in a while.

There you have it, the five blogs that I frequent to most of the time, mainly because these five blogs just kept updating themselves. Blogs becomes part of an everyday life. Likewise, you'll never really know what others think about. Plus, I really like the way they play with words, since I'm a word player myself. I just hope that meaningful blogs will keep existing, and I can keep reading. You'll never know how fun it is to find another word player like yourself.

Thanks and good day

(Note to these 5 bloggers : If any of you find my summary not satisfying, don't sue me. *Takes quote from Namewee* Saya takde duit....)

An Interesting Theory about Bed

That very sanctuary we go to everytime it is time to sleep. That very place that we generate and activate our subconcious mind. That very place that we woke up feeling rejuvenated and can't wait to go back there, it is all about the bed, our sleeping island.

The bed has always been an essential part of life. First acting as a sleeping place and a soft land for us as babies to lie on, later it evolves to become not only a place for rest and relaxation, it serves as the very sanctuary sometimes for people wanting to release themselves and conceal themselves for privacy, via crying while sleeping at the same time. It is also a place where best friends hang out and spill their heart out for each other, maybe needing one another to hold on to them. A place for lovers to share their very secrets, or just simply hold on to each other. Bed serves many purposes, though many had only acknowledge their primary existence, which is to allow them to go to dreamland.

But recently, when I saw something inspiring, I realised that how much memories a bed can have. Before I talk about that inspiring tale, I want to try to explain the theory of a bed, between singles and couples, and relate it to single bed and queen size bed.

When we are single, the only thing enough to fit us is, of course, the single bed. It is the private spot for us, for us to lay down, for us to ponder our thoughts, for us to relax, maybe worrying a little of what is in store for us the day after that. There is literally nothing to bother about. We could spread our legs wide and conquer the whole bed without ever needing to worry about others, except that we might fall down.

Of course, there are a few lucky ones who owns a queen sized bed themselves. While they had almost the same characteristics as the previous ones that I have mentioned, they need not worry about space. They have ALL the space they have. Rolling around and about, tossing and turning to their delight, and they'll never fell off the bed. Sleeping in a queen sized bed like that is just pure jealousy to me, especially when the materials used to create a queen sized is so much of high quality compare to single beds. They are much like singles' heaven, as they are more comfortable to sleep on.

However, when singles turn into couples, they might enjoy their very own paradise, maybe wanting to sleep back at their beds. Couples who tried to sleep together for the first time might not be used to the concept of sleeping together, because they were so used to having their own beds that maybe they were afraid of hurting the other by kicking them down, which is why it will not be comfortable. Or maybe they wanted to be romantic, therefore they hug each other to sleep, or the girl would sleep on her lover's arms, as they sleep together, only to wake up with severe muscle strains and numbness. That is not a romantic way to wake up at all.

But as time passed, and when each couple are familiar with the other's sleeping behaviour, they would counter each other and therefore adapt to each other, getting used to sleeping with each other, and therefore, they start to acknowledge their partners, always careful that their partner will have enough to sleep, and sleeping like that for over 10 years will make a difference on how you sleep, and you have gone used to sharing a bed with your lover. But, what happens when you are back being single again?

Sometimes it could be hard. Maybe it's about habit, maybe it's about the one you slept with, but I've seen in my own eyes how old habits can never die. It could be painful, it could be heartwarming, I just don't know what to say when I see it. My mother had been sleeping alone since the starting of this year, after my brother is finally old enough to go and sleep in his own room. She had always been sleeping on the right side of the bed, whilst my dad slept on the left side. After my dad's demise, I thought, by right, she should be having the whole bed to her own. But no. She still sleeps at one side, and leave the left side vacant. Sometimes, me and my siblings will occupy that side to sleep on the comfortable bed once in a while. But when she sleeps alone, it is always at the right side. Never have I seen her sleeping on the left side.

I don't know that she sleeps like that out of habit or not, but it pains me to see her sleeping like that. It's as if, my dad is still alive, still there, sleeping by her side. Should I tell her to try sleeping on both sides? She now owns the whole bed by herself. She's single. A queen sized bed is her luxury. Her intensive working hours should be able to let her understand that she needs the bed the most. And yet, she still sleeps by her side, rather unaware that she sleeps like that for the past 20 years, with 6 of them actually trying to adjust herself to sleep like a single again. Is she pining for my dad to return? Is she waiting for another man to sleep by her side when we are all grown up to spread our wings?

Sharing a bed is not easy as it looks. It takes some kind of special tolerance to be able to sleep together on a bed and still do not think that the other is a tiresome burden, just to wake up feeling fresh and rejuvenated. But for my mom's case, I look at it as a different story.

I think my mom wants to believe that my dad is still sleeping by her side.

Sorry if this post is a little confusing to some readers. Thanks and good day.

Stayin' Alive

I think I've gotten too used to being loud and brash when I'm protected by the Internet, it eventually eats up my character and I just had to be loud and brash in person. Here's how the story goes. One day I was waiting for the bus with my S.J buddy and my boyfriend, Ephyon. (I'm going to call him by his DotA name Ephyon from now on. Guardian angel seems to be very misleading. Plus, he likes DotA. I like watching him play DotA.) I had an interesting class before this and I just couldn't help but telling it out loud. We were waiting at broad daylight for the bus and I just raised my voice so that they can hear what I'm talking about. Unfortunately, unknown to me, I seemed to be drawing unwanted attention, mainly because my topic was "the Prime Minister is always Muslim. But they didn't emphasized on that right? I mean, we checked on the Internet....bla bla bla....". My buddy managed to hush me up after that, because there is a great amount of a certain ethnic group waiting for the bus too.

Unfortunately, as Ephyon tells me today, I really did drew scoffs of attention for what I said. And apparently, it had happen a few times, before and after we are together, whether it is related to politics or not. I seem to be talking about the wrong thing at the wrong time. I know I do offend alot of people, so much, that I think this is why I never had a good friendship circle until now. Honestly, if I didn't have friends who reminded me of that during secondary school days, I wouldn't know that what I said had been offending, loud and rude. That is why I had been limiting myself, or should I say, refraining myself from offending too many people that eventually the "One man is an island" saying becomes true.

I had been doing this for the past one year now, still I can't help being brash at times. Scoffing people off for facts that they could or couldn't accept. I even practised that on my earlier blog posts, trying to stop myself from revealing any information on what I felt if I was feeling stupidly down. Much to my "delight", I do get comments.

"hey yo,
go kill yourself you fucking emo bitch"

That was the very first thing I saw. I admit I was probably a little blurred or scarred by the attack. I resented to attacking that commentor, hoping that he'll leave. In the end, it lead into a nonsensical fight that my friends have been trying to help me in. I was being a dimwit too, falling for internet taunts like that. Then again, my abstract ego demands payback. I deleted all the comments made at that post to avoid anymore controversy. And now, I still do get lewd comments from some commentors, but eventually I learn not to care. The comments were there for them to express themselves. If I really hated comments, I would have disabled the comments settings. But I still like feedback from readers if possible.

Anyways, back to what I'm trying to emphasize. I do improve alot of being mindful of my speech. But I still couldn't help but express what I really think. I'm really impressed with my friends who refrain themselves from offending others by bashing the performance of others. I still ACCIDENTALLY do that sometimes. (meaning, I wasn't aware. I just ask one really straightforward question) Luckily I hit the right spot, and I was known as the girl who asks straightforward questions. Ouch(or is it Yay?).

My legacy has not ended. Till now, I see many others who are almost as loud and brash as me, but this only happens within campus. I think they were sensible enough not to mention anything outside in public. My intuition really sucks. If there is no public display of affection, and if someone tells me dat XXX and YYY were going out, I'll just give you the shocking look and you'll return to me saying "Don't tell me you don't notice ah? So obvious"

So if no one tells me that my "speech" is drawing really negative attention, I'll just continue talking and talking as if I'm in LaLa-land. Ignorant of the icy stares around me, ready to pounce at me when I fully let my guard down. I think I've challenged my freedom of speech far too many times, that I didn't realised that. I'm still surprised that I'm still free, instead of being locked up in jail by the Internal Security Act for my one sentence or one remark.

Then again, I didn't realise people actually care about my consequences and what will happen to me.

Ephyon:"I just want to protect you as much as I can. I don't want to see you end up in the hospital bed....."

He related a case that happened to his friend, who, said one sentence too many, and ended up being beaten up for that. Luckily it was just bruises, but what if they couldn't stop beating? And the ending of your glamourous life is being left by the roadside waiting to die. I never really knew about what kind of value people see in my life. Death. If I go, I go alone. That was how I view about my life. If I left the world, that's it. I trust my family and friends to be sensical enough not to grieve too much about my death.

Today, my principle and view about life was proven wrong.

I may hear alot of declaration of love from Ephyon, but today, he tells me something I've never heard before, that he didn't want to lose me all because of what I said.

And for that, I guess I should be more aware of my surroundings. Because I want to stay alive.

I'll still be loud and brash anyway, just be more aware of who may listen to my speech.

Are you listening?

Limited or Endless Contribution?

If anyone can remember how many times have you actually donated your money for charity, sympathy, friendship and love in a year, congratulations, I can daresay you could be 100,000 ringgit richer if you have kept the money. And those who are more able than the rest, you could have easily donated out 1 million.

I could be exaggerating, but I think everyone didn't realise the value of their donation. It may seem small, but if you have continuous donations to various organisations, those little values are stacked up easily and we could have spent some nearly 5 to 6 digits worth of money. That's a lot! Imagine what we can do with the money. I could get myself a really good laptop upgrade for my own sake. We could have enjoyed better food. We can even afford to go on a nice holiday.

And yet, we are contributing to charity knowingly and unknowingly at the same time. Do we contribute out of good intention or we just want to dispose those extras as fast as possible? As we placed that numerous 1 cent coins into the coin disposal box that accepts them for sake of charity, were we really thinking of the poverty or we just think that those coins were a burden? Probably it was the best of both worlds, because we could have just dump the coins into the rubbish dustbin. They won't really be worth anything. And not many are really interested in stacking up those 1 cent coins until it is worth something.

We have been contributing alright. Every ringgit or cents we donate, it could save someone's life. It could give the beggar down the street something more to eat. It could let the grandma who collects tin cans get a better pay today. It can afford to make a sick child and their family smile. Moreover, it makes our lives better. Or does it?

Sometimes we just donate out of pressure, you know, those "promoters" walking around selling items that half of them is going to charity. They aren't stalkers, but they can attack you individually, and you don't know what to do. We could say we are short of cash, but then they will implant some kind of "guilt genes" inside us and we'll feel bad for not doing what we "should be" doing: helping out others. Ah, I blame that on Moral Studies. We are just expected to be good aren't we?

Sometimes we just have to symphatise towards other's misfortune. Not all of them have our lives or our luck. They may leave the world earlier than ours, and they were not willing to die. But they aren't financially capable of surviving on Mother Earth. They sought for the help of newspapers, charity organisations, special services, just to keep their lives. And the very least we can do is do a little good so that somehow, they can have a live similar to ours.

Sometimes we "donated" without knowing. What is that should be free, was actually not. I actually encountered an incident whereby I was walking with my guardian angel at a shopping mall, and there was this kind lady who hands out a Buddhist Charm. As a Buddhist, I just accepted the charm, thinking that it was a free souvenir. Then as I turned back I found him missing. The lady was asking for RM20 for him as a "donation". Both of us were not exactly aware of this, so he just gave her the money. At that moment, I just threw the Buddhist charm into the rubbish dustbin. Not angry with my angel, but that woman. I feel insulted as a Buddhist because we were taught to just accept and not ask, we just accept what was in our plate. Yet that woman had the cheek to ask for money from him, without telling ME that it was supposed to be a product of donation. I should have just throw the charm to her and tell her to screw her business. Sheesh.

Then there were speculations that the victims of circumstances didn't exactly get the amount of money that was published in newspapers. Reason, those charity organisations sought after "hiring fees" after their "good deed" was done. Wow, so if we were contributing RM 1, at least 30 cents go to the organisation. Imagine if that amount of money is multiplied by millions. It's no wonder charity organisation do not need any business. They ARE getting business literally through the donations of us, the ever kind-hearted citizens.

Sigh, it is so hard to be good these days, finding people with the really true intention of doing good for the good of others. Others are raking in money. They need money. We need money. We willingly give our money to the others. They get the profit. They use our money that we literally donated. I am really in a dilemma here. Donating means giving us a sense of joy but yet we don't know how much were we exploited. Not donating means we managed to save our wallets from being burned up quickly, but if there's more people that think like us, wouldn't those who needed help that suffer?

What would you choose? Limited or Endless Contribution?

Bring her back

Dear Buddha,

Sim Ee is lost now, wandering in my cloud of thoughts. She don't know where to go, I didn't have the map to guide her out. I'm clueless myself, what have I done to her. I locked her inside me. She struggled to get out, but at the moment I see her beloved, I couldn't stop myself.

Sim Ee tried to tell me to stop acting cute, because she hated cutesiness. She didn't really like to do that often. But her beloved never complain, so I never stop. She was shocked with my attitude. She was flabbergasted, but she was locked, so she couldn't do anything. She lost her spirit.

Sim Ee didn't like to to complain. She was actually okay with any consequences, she was brought up to not complain, and be able to accept everything around her and just get used to new situation. Yet her beloved was silent when I complained, and I just continue to do so. She yelled at my stupidity to not think before I said anything to hurt him. I know myself, but it was always too late, that I left another scar in his heart. She was heartbroken. She lost her mind.

Sim Ee loves being with different people. She likes to be surrounded by friends and family, and different new people indeed. She loves the freshness about it, knowing more people is more like her. She has no qualms about it. Yet her beloved loves to have me by his side, so I always stick to him. She looked at the fresh faces just passing by her, another opportunity of knowing a new friend is lost. She glared at me with her tear-stained face, and with red eyes, telling me how can I do this to her. I didn't listen, just continuing whatever I'm doing with him. She's completely given up. She lost her soul.

My lord, I've just conquered her, then her beloved realised he loves her more than me. He shattered me into a million pieces, so hard that it's hard to pick up. I am not whole now. He revived Sim Ee back when she was almost close to being destroyed. I tried picking up my pieces but to no avail. People other than him wants Sim Ee back. I was shocked. I thought people loved me. But they do not. They love Sim Ee more.

My lord, I cannot complain. I've been conquering her for the past 2 months. It's more than enough for me to enjoy the world, when I wasn't really enjoying when I'm tormenting her mind and soul. I feel guilty myself, in order to be alive, I need her dead; She's okay with death, but it's not the way with her beloved and her friends. She made a bizzare promise about staying true to herself as she goes on with her relationship. It didn't happen, I tormented her into a half beast within 2 months.

My lord, PLEASE! Help her! She needs to be back! She wants to be back! Her Beloved wants her back! Her friends want her back! Her family wants her back!! And I WANT HER BACK!! BUDDHA!!! LISTEN TO THE CALL OF THE LOST SOUL!!! BRING HER BACK!!!!!!!!

From,
Pieces of new personality

Death is evident

It has been 3 weeks since knowing that one of my secondary schoolmate died. It took me quite some time to discuss it in public. "It" refers to death, the last stage of our life cycle. When I was younger, death seems so abstract, so hard to believe. I thought death only appeared in movies or television. I had not experienced death for the first thirteen years of my life, never even been to a proper funeral and witness its proceedings. Never know how the dead people look. I had a quite perfect family whereby the fact that all my family members remained well and healthy. All that so-called perfect image turned into disaster, when I was greeted with death on a Sunday morning.

I saw my father, lying motionless, not moving a bit. Thinking that he just passed out, I tried out my First Aid skills. I was only thirteen then, so it wasn't a perfect start. Attempts of trying to bring him back to life only turned out to be failure, because my mom only woke me up, half an hour after he lay unconcious. There is no way that I could bring him back alive. At that moment, I blamed my mother, had she had the same knowledge as I did, she would have had the sense to wake me up straightaway. But it is all too late. My father has left the world.

I felt as if my whole world crumbled seeing his lifeless body, and knowing that what I did could not bring him to life. The energy was wasted, what more when I broke down. I was living in a trauma, so badly, that I couldn't go upstairs to have a good look at his body, only dare to do so after he was placed in a casket. I witnessed the whole family collapse. Everyone bringing their tear-stained face to see my father. Suddenly, I don't see a perfect family anymore. My paternal relatives were an embarassing lot, all not knowing how to face death or even able to talk out of it. They made the whole situation worse, as if trying to make the pain even more evident. When my paternal grandmother puts unknown accusations on our family, it spelled the end of our harmonious ties. I resent them now for their selfishness and childish acts.

Since then, I couldn't look at death the same way again. I view it as a cruel and heartless way of separation. Death occurs just anywhere. Unavoidable at times. If it really happens, strangers react first, if the dead is a victim of crime. I wonder why do the strangers screamed at the sight of the body. Is it because of fear? What do they fear in the dead? And the loved ones. They cry at the sight of death. Why do they cry? Is it because of death, or how they died?

"Just let it all out, you'll feel better that way"

That was what my friend said when they were around when I got to know of the news of my schoolmate's passing. Will crying really reflect what I felt inside? Will it actually release the grief inside? I couldn't really cry much because I had little memories with my schoolmate. A friend of 5 years, he rarely talks yet he tries to blend in the crowd. I only knew him because we were involved in the same society. Later on we became classmates. I know of his area of interests, in fact, I was one of the few who talked quite some with him. However, I was being a black sheep, and not many liked me. So in order to please the majority, I gave all my time trying to please them, ignoring him who had been sitting by my side. The last time that I actually talked to him was on friendster, that he invited me to join his college's Bon Odori festival, I politely declined his offer, with the assignments piling up at my side. Now, I wished I could have accepted it.

"Of course we have the right to complain, since we lost someone precious in our lives"

That was what my guardian angel said yesterday, albeit jokingly. None that I could think of to reply him back. I don't know if I want to put my father's death as a shield to gain sympathy anymore. For applying scholarships, for unknowingly being centre of the crowd, for being depressed, for crying. So many kinds of privileges, I always used my father's death as the reason. But later on the privilege turned into a burden. When I see my paternal relatives' ugly faces, everytime they asked us about our well-being, with intention to feel pity for us. I feel disgusted visiting them, sometimes disgusted with myself when I use my situation to actually make the whole atmosphere lost its temperature. Countless times my friendship was nearly severed. I always thought that people complain even though they have the best things in the world was stupid because I never really complain, but thinking of what my guardian angel said, do I really want to complain now?

I will face death sooner or later. I have had two deaths involving people who had an impact in my life. To my father, thank you for being a really awful fellow, who smokes, drinks, gambles, and spending my education fund down the drain, for I learn to hate you, not follow in your footsteps, and not to choose a man like you. To my schoolmate, thank you for being considerate, to send me Chinese New Year cards despite all the stupid rumours of you liking me, for letting me listen to you, and to tell me what you haven't been telling others, for I learn to appreciate good memories and friends now. I will miss the FRIM trip more often now.

"It's painful to let go I know, but at the very least you have accepted his death"

I hope you are right my angel.

CC and GG madness

Question: Which of these phrases are uttered by me in a CC?



A. "No! No! NO!!!!!! AH FUCK!!! RUN!! DON'T FIGHT!! RUN!!!!!"



B. "That bloody wanked up kid!!"



C. "I'm gonna fuck that bloody bitch which kick my ass with Ultima!"



D. "No....GG...."



E. "This is madness....."



Well, folks, if you choose the first four answers, you are most definitely not one of those who frequent CC, or you don't really understand my character. In other words, E is what I said as I step into the CC a few days ago. For those who are still not clear of what is a CC, its called a Cyber cafe. The ongoing trend where it is still a popular spot for kids who skipped school, those who do not have any internet facilities, or simply, those who just want to hang out with their friends and play together. The Cyber Cafe is always equipped with different softwares and loads of online games, they also have the latest updates on computer hardwares, programmes, so much, no wonder those who have home computers too prefer to go to the cyber cafe.



I'm not sure is it because of the amount of technology inside the cyber cafe, or is it the appeal is not big enough, but I do find that the cyber cafe is dominated by boys and men, not much girls, though I can see a growing number of them in cyber cafes. But even there is so-called discrimination about it when I see the door to the men's room is larger than the ladies's. Well it is also dominated by the males because of the games they offer there. Counter Strike, DotA, Ea Sports, how many girls actually play those? Even I as a gamer could not find any interest in playing those type of games. That is probably what attracts the males to find their solace, filled with dim lights, cool gadgets, probably some other cyber cafes they are allowed to smoke too.



And yet, there is something in common with men whenever they play games. From those sophisticated faces, those handsome smiles, those to-die-for accents, they all turn into foul-mouthed creatures the moment they entered into a virtual arena, where they compete in front of the monitor to see who is the winner. If they got attacked, one foul word mentioned, then they continue their battle. However, if they got hit several times till they reach the brink of death, they vowed for revenge, in a form of vulgar words. See how these games turned even the best men into vicious animals, marching forward like there's no tomorrow, yet they do not break a sweat, but still they wasted their finger energy to click and type for instructions and directions and still try to wreck their brains for any possible attack or defense they can find just to make sure they do not lose their base easily. Of course, the process is not easy, and its not easy for the ears too.

Yet it is somehow amazing for a girl to witness how the culture of CC is like. Men who just swore and do not care of their ugly faces, battling their wits out of something virtual, just to keep their avatar alive. Of course, strategy was used, they need online teamwork, then the battle is won. It is somewhat tempting for men to try out new maps and new characters whenever their game is updated. Yes, as I'm typing now, my other partner and his friend is clicking his way to victory, when they had other matters to do like having an exam or concentrating on studies. But can't really blame him because, in that game, emotions run high. Even I got caught in the atmosphere, but what I did more was ask questions. Yep, I'm an amateur when it comes to online gaming. I'm more of a console gamer than an online gamer.

Still, it is this kind of madness that seems tempting yet deadly when we get addicted to it. Truly, the cyber cafe phenomenon has evolved from just being a place for those loiterers to a common place that friends meet up and play their favourite games. It is not necessarily harmful that it could destroy your life, if you are able to control yourself. If not, it is almost as addictive as cigarettes, heroin and sex. Too much of it can kill. And truly, it does kill people. There are a few cases in China where people got killed because they stay too much in front of the computer, and it has happenned in cyber cafes. So becareful of hazardous computers.

Warnings aside, it is not really a sin to get involved and have a taste of CC madness once in awhile. But really, there is something I need to do if I ever wanted to go to another cyber cafe: Be a professional in some online game apart from O2Jam. Imagine the irony of going in there, as one of the minority, and sit there doing nothing but playing the same songs I play everyday at home, when the boys are having some kind of new fun playing DotA or CounterStrike. I felt like an idiot when I'm facing a super induced computer and I didn't know what to do with it. Probably inside my inner self I was half wishing I understand the game or whatsoever, and half wishing I actually had left the cyber cafe, because even before I can actually sit down and play, my mind shouts "GG!!!"

Oh, and what is GG? Anyone who knows, please leave comments, I know what it means but I'm a little lazy to explain. To those CC lovers, if you find this post annoying, not suitable to your taste or you just felt offended, also please leave comments. I have really little idea on Cyber cafes, but I'd like to hear what you guys out there think about cyber cafes. Thanks and good day.

The Elements of Journalism

In another 2 weeks, I'll be embarking on my second stage being in university life, which is pursuing the degree course. Some might argue that degree life might be a pain, some might say it shall be a breeze. I doubt any kind of breeze will come from my course, which has appeared on the title. I'll pursuing lessons of being part of the media society.

Not many would choose the life of being a journalist, said that this is the hardest career in mass communication and pays very little. This is very much evident when my university has only two, if not, one class in every degree course. This minimal number represents endangered species. Luckily, this course is creditable. If not, I would not have choose this university in the first place.

Journalism, according to Wikipedia, is "a discipline of gathering, writing and reporting news, and more broadly it includes the process of editing and presenting the news articles". This is what I have to learn during my 3 years studying this course, and I have to endure the large amount of paperwork to be done. Even so, I probably had to keep allowing creativity to knock into my head and say "Hey, just do this and forget the old set of rules! This is you!". Yep, journalism changes rules and styles easily, which is why they have editors, because editors, are like disciplinary teachers. They either think your story was good, quick, and have lots of coverage, or they might squeeze your head dry to see how many creative juices are there.

I'm preparing to face a very hectic journey ahead, filled with lots of running around. This is the fate of a journalist I guess, running around, trying to gather news, jotting down whatever that is useful, make good use of it, write out a report, hand it to the editor, re-edit your piece of work, make interviews no matter you have personal feelings towards the interviewee or not, being criticised, being judgmental, being very meticulous and so on. Ouch, I might have to create another persona to fit into that role, because although I like the feeling of running around, not being in the office, not wearing formal wear(journalists can't wear formal wear and run around do they?), but I might get tired of it after a while. Yet I don't want to regret choosing what I do best, which is, well, writing?

I discovered this part of my talent late, because my family emphasized on all rounder academics and sports, or they give me a wrong talent to pursue on: organ practise. I like music, but I'm for sure not the type to play on the keyboard. I was too restless to sit down and play a piece. It was until I got fascinated with chinese lyrics that I discovered the writer in me. Nothing has ever stop me from writing since then. I never actually published any articles on newspapers, mainly because I don't think I want to join in the debate, nor am I good at poems (writing, and poems are not the same), so I'd just observe how the reporters write their reports, with no distinctive style, and no taste. Everything looks and sound the same. But I can see the differences when they took in reports from other countries. The other journalists have more capacity in writing. They probably had done more research, but still it is evident on how they wrote out their distinctive style. I sure hope that there is a chance for the journalists here to be able to write out a style on their own.

There are nine elements of journalism, which none in this country nor other countries has fulfilled all the elements, only some. Here's a look on the nine elements:

1. Journalism's first obligation is the truth.

This is one element that I vow to keep if I ever go into the world of journalism. No matter what kind of pressure I have, I'll keep the one thing that ever encouraged me into journalism: portraying the truth to the whole world. Unfortunately, sometimes, the government can do stupid things to cover the truth that is against them. And I'm not only talking about the government in my country.

2. Its first loyalty is to its citizens.

One element leads to another, and they are all interrelated. The government must know that the press, is working to fulfil its work to the major part of the country which is the citizens, and not to serve the government, so be prepared for some major opposition if they didn't do their job well. Lets just hope those political parties would leave the press alone, instead of giving threatenning endorsements.

3. Its essence of discipline is verification.

Nothing much to say about this one, except that a journalist have to make clear of the news report that they are supposed to give, and whether is it a fraud or a real truth. Or not, the tragedy of China Press is going to happen again. the Nude Squat incident is still vividly on my mind. It will be a severe warning to all press that they must verify clearly on the incident.

4. Its practitioners must maintain an independence from those they cover.

This element, can cause the journalist to lose an arm, a leg, or possibly, his or her life. This is because a journalist when they report on something, it might go against a certain company, it might expose a secret organisation, it might turn one person into living hell, and they all want to prevent that from happening, so in order to stop the journalist from exposing their secrets to the media, several actions could be done. This is a risk of a journalist, at the possible ends of losing one's life. However they must not bow down to the fear, because what they only want to do is to find the truth. Therefore, bribes might help, but, if there is anyone as stubborn as me, I'd probably be dead anytime if I was told to investigate or do something life threatenning.

5. It must serve as an independent monitor of power.

Power. The power of writing. Any kind of news exposed to the public will either be propelled someone to a celebrity status, or act as a death sentence to many. That is how powerful news can be. Which is why the journalists are responsible with what they write. However, paparazzis can just write nuisance, and the press agency still got sued. What a "wonderful" bunch of dogs, them paparazzis.

6. It must provide a forum for public criticism and compromise.

Well, this part is served in every newspaper. The public can always write in to express their dissatisfaction, their greetings, their complaints. Luckily, companies too make use of this to explain their actions, or their wrongdoings. Oh, they even allow companies or a certain persona to apologise to the public via advertising.

7. It must strive to make the significant interesting and relevant.

This is what I don't see in my country, interesting? relevant? The only thing interesting is news from other foreign agencies in other places. What ever happen to researches that were done in Malaysia itself? Those very topics that make people cringe, those very topics that makes people understand a new level of knowledge? I certainly miss those days of how I enjoyed reading all parts of the newspaper, before some certain authority bogged it down with unnecessary pressure.

8. It must keep the new comprehensive and proportional.

Not sure how to explain this, but, I guess the news that are meant to be small, don't get too worked up on it, but those news that requires alot of attention, like feature stories, do lots of research, interview people, and write and rewrite it so that it fits into whatever that is happening now, and also the taste of the public. There is a fact that the public prefers negative stories over positive ones, though I'm hoping to report more positive than negative.

9. Its practitioners must be allowed to exercise their personal conscience.

Now this, could not be practised in this country for the time being. Why do I say so? Every press agency has a political party to "rely" on. So how do the media practitioners be allowed to exercise based on their personal feelings about a certain issue? Everytime when there is an election going on, the political party that has major influences on the media, gets more media coverage. Nothing much was said on what the opposite party did during the whole election period. In the end, who wins? The one that has more media coverage. It is sad that this is happening. Luckily, blogs are available and I at least get to see the two sides of faces that this media news have. Though I pray I get the freedom to even READ them in the future. Because, hey, I'm a blogger too.

Well, that sums up on what I feel about journalism. Hopefully, I'm able to excel in it. I don't pray to stay in this country for a career, because I don't think I can survive the pressure, unless I got into leisure like magazines and travel. Hopefully, my degree life is going to be a happy one. Hectic, yes but a happy hectic life.

Thanks and good day.

Crumbling Morality

A friend once told me that Moral Studies is the only subject that is practised only in Malaysia.

Today's The Star main paper section tells the story of how donations continues to pour in for a mother even though her daughter dies of brain cancer.

Today's The Star Startwo section, columnist Chong Seau Ching says the as Malaysians we continue to discriminate the Africans.

All these three sentences tell me one thing, which is we have different faces of us and we show those different faces to different people every now and then. We would smile to a fellow Malaysian, for they are part of us and we should be proud of them, and frown upon the foreigners, because they were not welcome and they should go back to their very own country instead of invading our beloved land.

How sad it is to show that this is what has become of morality. Nothing is easy anymore. No one can leave their houses without feeling aware of heir surroundings. Anything can happen and a life is lost. Where has that security that I know so much, that if I get lost in a shopping mall, I can always rely on a security guard? There is a possibility of a crime anywhere. House, streets, shopping malls, restaurants, even schools.

Yet we still can find the opportunity to look down on others. This is a sad world. A world filled with injustice. When a small portion of the community tries to equalize the world, everyone else is going against it. They agree that there is no way that everyone can of the same status. Most Caucasions are unhappy with Blacks and Asians. Us Asians are too unhappy with Blacks and sometimes, Caucasions. Awed with each other's intelligence and prospect, beneath us lies a competition that we want to win another ethnic group. This is what we are, and when that was brought up to the surface, morality can be gone forever.

I am not even sure myself if I am that willing to help others. If we help too much, will people take advantage of us? If we stop by near the road to help someone who is stranded by the roadside, there's a 50% chance that we might lose our vehicle, depending on whether the casualty is a phony or not. We cannot have anymore handbags because the snatch thieves are leering over it. It is not safe for girls to go out anymore since there are rapists around. Countless advices were given for any type of possible crime that might occur. Never in my life have I had to watch out everytime a crime was spread nationwide.

Yet I, and I'm sure many of the readers out there, do not want to look at foreigners in a different angle. Not all Africans have AIDs, not all Africans are scheming for money. Some came to just continue their studies, or were just trying to earn an honest income, so that their families back in their home country will be better. I agree that we should be cautious because things might happen, but shouldn't we be cautious to everyone else too? We can be friendly to an extent, because they are still human. Look beyond race, ethnicity, colour, religion, and what you basically see is a human. There are good and evil humans everywhere. Yet those traits are being covered up by all the aspects that I have mentioned above.

So while I try to treat everyone the same, will I get the same treatment back? I'm not sure about that, but, all I know is that I want to treat them well, and not because I want something from them. Since when, doing good pays a price anyway?


Thanks and good day.

Much Ado About Nothing......

At last, my course of Foundation in Arts is over. After a hectic 7 weeks of mishaps and mayhems, I can finally sit down and enjoy a 3 week holiday, which started yesterday. During the 7 weeks, I was so busy that I stop thinking about what to write on the blog, and more concentrated on my studies. It was until yesterday that I can finally ponder on something that I had never thought before: Have I turn into an observer?

After a long conversation with one of my study group mate, I begin to realise that I not only live my life, I observed it. I take every step with caution and have a full taste of every consequences I made. Yet, I felt it is so meaningless to live that way, being an adventurer and also a researcher at a same time. When it comes to friends who are in trouble, I contribute a little help, then shrink back into my own shell, giving no less but just advices and pats on a shoulder. I no more ask about the lives of my friends, and what happen to them that made them who they are; I just them as who they are.

When I was young, I would stare at a mirror for a long time, and begin to imagine a story of my own. If only, my mirror self can come out to live my life and I become the one in the mirror, just observing what is going on in my other self's daily life. I feel contented by just observing people's life, taking into account their everyday expression, and then, just treat it like a research. That's just who I was then, quiet, not willing to speak out, silently laughing at funny expressions like a graceful elegant lady watching a Shakespearean drama on stage. I just like to become an anonymous, to not be credited for anything that I've done.

That is until I've turned 16, that I couldn't become an observer anymore. I couldn't treat myself like I'm living through my life silently without gaining people's attention. For some reason, I had, and I don't feel so used about it. Friends started to talk to me, and seeking for advices sometimes. I tried giving the best advice that do not hurt them, but it never helped. So I tried giving advices based on my own perspectives, and it worked. Then I started to try and taste life, that is full of bitter, sweet, sour and spice. Memories that just flow through my mind like a reel of film. Dramatic expressions that stuns the crowd. That's who I was. I tasted life so badly, my body reacts to it. When I suffered from a broken heart, my body reacted so violently, I eventually started to get sick.

But what I gain from tasting life is that I have stories that no one else experienced. My one and only unique experiences that I only know. I feel so special in a sense that I can share my own part of the stories with the others, and the others too share their stories which only they understand how they feel. I felt that this is life. A risky adventure. One might not know what happens the next. I can fly over a steep mountain soaring and shouting my name, which is one of a kind. I felt like I'm finally an individual of this world, and I'm finally me!

My life has finally started to walk, and I'm walking on my own road, I'm so happy that I can make my own choices, do what I want, have fun with my friends, fall in love, excel in studies, being able to cope with hectic and rush. My life is filled with no less of laughter and tears and also heart pain. The taste of life is so tempting, so rich with flavour, that my life goes so smoothly, because I know how to face it. The glory of being able to take control of my life is so heartily filling and I got so satisfied by it.

But all of a sudden, I got tired of the rich flavour, I hate the temptations of life. I didn't want to go on anymore adventures. I hate helping out. I hate being the one to speak up. Suddenly, I just want to find a corner to hide. To be able to revert back to an observer, just observe what others do. Even though I'm not the centre of attention but I still speak out so people still look at me. Suddenly, I hate those stares, those stares of being amused of my words. Suddenly, I want to be a nothing, to be able to retain my anonymity. Perhaps, my life has gotten a little too smooth that I got almost everything I want now, that I just want to escape from it. My life has gotten a little too perfect, I got everything I want, everything that I had been praying for ever since I was a child. I don't believe Buddha is so forgiving that He is giving me all this happiness that I'm experiencing.

All of a sudden I just want to revert from having my own name to just being a "nothing". If Shakespeare's words are true, that the world is a stage, I don't want to be a lead actress, I just want to do behind the scenes. I had enough of tasting life. I just want to become an observer again. I want my nothingness back.

But, I know, if I do so, I'll hurt someone. Because I had fallen in love with my guardian angel.

Thanks and good day.

Extraordinary Expressions

English to me is the most amazing language that I have known. Not only it is the world-acclaimed international language (which sounds too corny anyway), it is also the true hub for different nationalities to communicate and understand each other. Minus the arrogance of French and Latin, everyone's practically knowledgeable and some of them fluent in English. I find it amazing because with the English language, we can use so many words just to describe an object: the choice of words can derive from "very easy to understand" to "showing how formal I could be"

For example, when you see an object which you like and find it favourable to you, at that moment, you might think that the object is "nice", when in truth, there are so many other words to make it sound more formal, or more professional. There are always other choices like fantastic, magnificent, awesome, majestic, amazing, beautiful, pretty, and so many other kinds of words to expressed your views about the certain object.

Many people seem to just look at the surface of English, thinking that they just have to learn the basic grammar, basic descriptions and they would enjoy becoming one with English. But repetition of these words and alphabets and people will know how little is their knowledge towards the language. How laughable actually when they only repeat the words they know, describing everything they see with only the basics of the basement in the level of English, when they can ascend to many other levels by simply picking up a good English book to read or just read newspapers, they are bound to remember a few complicating words which when spoken, might impressed a few friends of even some potential partners.

I find English a fascinating language, even though I know I still could not differentiate between verbs, nouns, grammar and all the technical terms of English. English is a good enrichment to my life. I love to express myself using different kinds of descriptions which suit the situation and the timing of whether should I use that word. Even a compliment may sound insulting if the wrong word was used.

It is not easy to master English of course. Just when you thought that you have learned enough, someone who thinks you are too proud brings you to another level in English, which makes your jaw drop, make you admit your insensibility, and you try again. This is what I had gone through, when I thought my English was really good, until I get to see what kind of syllabus did they teach in our neighbouring country, Singapore. I was awed by the usage of English, and, dare I say, I had no idea what all those words meant, and to think that them Singaporeans had to learn all these at a young age, I begin to wonder if I was lucky, or that I was furious. I am still in the process of enhancing my own knowledge in English, trying to be more mindful and paying attention when my friends who are more proficient, speaking with their recognisable British or American accents, being able to verse out a complicated sentence without fear. These people are my inspiration, same to books and newspaper which had helped me alot.

English is desirably challenging and fun at the same time, where so many of us can continue to chase the meaning of English, creating our very own language, embedding the meaning of English. This language gets so many renewing process every now and then, and the vocabulary level increases. It may just be a lifetime education process, whereby even after I was in my grave or in urn, I might not be able to understand English in whole, still I enjoy the process. After all, it is a joy to be able to listen, read and converse in English. I may get some advices from my mom that I should becareful when I said something. What she didn't know is I intent to mean my words. Thanks and good day.

The "If" Factor

Many of those who studied in Chinese primary schools would probably recognised these titles:
"If I were to be a millionaire, what will I do?"
"If I had super powers, what will I do with it?"
"Will it be a better place If the world has no sadness?"

These are some of the titles given to pupils when they were young. And expected them to write out their own desires out of it. I'm not sure what happens then when all parents and teachers think alike; because in the end, all essays sound the same. For instance, if the child becomes a millionaire, he or she will give to the charity, will buy a new house for their parents as a sign of gratitude, will start their own career, and will use the money for travel.

The question is: Are you sure those were the desires of children? Children at the age of 8 or 9, that wants to give to charity, buy a house, travel? I'm placing any kinds of bet that if they had RM 1 million in their pockets now, they'd run straight to the nearest toy shop they had and buy the toys they desire. How do I know? I was one of the pupils given to all this titles, and my original essay was not approved by the teacher. The reason : "You are too selfish, you should write for more the people. Share your money with them."

Share? Why would I want to share? Those were mine! My RM1 million! I don't want to let others share. I don't like to see my money flying away! Then my teacher show me some of the articles published on student's magazines on their essays, using the same title as mine, what I notice is that not only their concept is the same. Heck, even the points that were elaborated were the same! They would sure start by saying they'd buy a house, then start a career, then give to the charity, then only their own desire. Young as I was back then, I do what most people do best: being a copycat and just write out the same thing. My teacher was pleased after that. But I'm not.

Over the years the same topic has been published on magazines and yet the essays submitted were all of the same context. It becomes really routined and boring. And none of them notice it until recently when the student newspaper acted by criticising the essays that students submit to them. Then only we see some creativity put inside the essays. But still, the majority love to stick to "old same". Because it is not wrong and a guarantee for marks. The teachers don't want quality; they want to make sure the pupils write in good language that's all.

Education is supposedly a hub to make the children read, write and speak in a better way instead of the slurring and the grammar mistakes that they usually would get in home. But yet they, the school authorities, has taken it to another level, encouraging what Mao Zedong tried to do to the Republic of China: the monomonstrosity. Everyone gets the same thing, same context, same clothes, same hair, same etc etc. In other words, students here are encouraged to do everything the same. There is no harm doing everything the same, except that it kills your creativity bit by bit. Then again, it promotes longevity. Talents like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart or River Phoenix, they die early, because they use too much of the "creative juice" that was supposed to run in every body of ours.

Even though I'm part of the "monomonstrosity", I'm hoping to see a better management on education in the future, where students can use their talents to create more colours for the world. Do not just promote sports or singing or story telling competition. Promote other things like essay, critical thinking (which they can criticise something they don't like), practical skills. Make the best of both ways. It is much often that those who score are those who are able to be creative and yet intelligent at the same time. Yet, the education department only see light in those academics than their other achievements that they had.

Oh, and sometimes, creativity only comes when we are in the later stage because we were so used to "rules and tradition" in the past. But it best that creativity be developed in the earlier stages like when children are still children. Then, if there is any essay topic concerning about the "If" factor, we'll see a more variety of answers that has gone through our little young ones. Who knows, they might be the ones worthy to take over the leadership and rule the country. Thanks and good day.

Boredom

Friends. Some friendships last a lifetime. Others disappear within hours of just knowing each other. I try to cherish every friend I have everytime I get to know them. Friends are gained by taking the initiative to get to know strangers whom you think have the same interest with you.

I had learned not to label anyone as "best friends". By doing so, no one is equal. The very best friend will do anything with you, and only you. Sometimes if she goes out with other friends without you getting the invitation, you'd feel irritated and frustrated. Isn't she my best friend? Why is she hanging out with others and not me? Then cracks happen, and the bond will disappear, as if it had never happen at all.

There are many stages of friends. I knew some friends when I was younger, while attending kindergarden. Then after that, we separated, and I got to know friends from primary school, via as classmates or society members, some I know them younger, but not really close, until very much later. After that stage, I knew those who were from the same secondary school. It was a larger circle of friends, due to the constant change of class every year. While some kept in touch with me, I had lost touch with others. It saddens me, but life is an ongoing process. You win some, you lose some. It is very hard to actually remain faithful to friends who are long gone.

Now that I'm in the university level, I know newer friends, but yet still keep in touch with my old school friends, thanks to the advance technology of handphones and internet. But somehow, when asked about class reunion, I was always reluctant. Should I go? Should I retain my friendship with my old friends? What if I see the people that I don't like? Well, I don't see any class reunion for my secondary school level yet.

I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I bore people. I'm not sure if that is the reason why people don't really want to talk to me anymore. But some, I admit, is due to my neglect. I fail to go to them when they need assistance. I fail to tell them that I still care, I fail to balance my attention between friends, I have try and fail to make sure that none of my friends felt left out in anything we talk on. I felt silly, but it is the truth sometimes. And when it is the truth, I felt regret. Regretting for not realising it earlier on. So I take my step very cautiously, trying not to trod on sensitive paths that may result in my friends leaving me without me knowing at all. I'm already used to being alone, but of course it is better when I have friends around to hang out with, to be crazy enough in front of them, to be able to hear them scolding me for what I did wrong, and most importantly, to be able to help me remain who I am now.

I feel thankful towards all my friends, and I'm deeply sorry if I had ever neglected any of you. I will try my best not to do that. I know I have to make a new balance again when I have something new in my life now. Maybe you are bored with me, maybe not, but I just to tell everyone who had entered my life, left, or still remain, thank you for making me who I am now. As for my current friends, I will try to make the best of my time to be there. I know I must be ignorant nowadays. I apologise. But I just want you to know, my friends are more important than love. Love can be searched again, but friends, once lost, I won't be able to find the same person as my friend again. I appreciate everything that everyone do. Please, do forgive this ignorant girl. I will become who I was before.

This post is dedicated to the amazing girls of UTAR. Deqian, Dylane, Ming Min, Yin Jiun, Atiqah, Kamini, and Stephanie. Thank you for being there. I'm sorry if I made any mistakes. I enjoy all of your company, and I hope that I'll be able to remain close friends with all of you amazing people.

Thanks and good day.

Imperfection

I would like to first issue an apology for my disappearance after so long, being very busy and I'm starting my new semester again. I was supposed to post this a little earlier, but guess I'm a little behind my schedule, which is why an intention to post this on a special day becomes a normal post just like any other. Anyhow, Happy Belated White Day.

White Day, also known as White Valentine, is another type of Valentines' Day practised in Asian regions such as Taiwan, Japan and Korea. Whilst the girls there had the practise to give chocolates to the boys in these countries on Valentines' Day, which is the annual February the 14th, Exactly 30 days later, if the boys had feelings for the girls, they would return the favour, and give the girls gifts. Except, not all girls' partners, are boys.

There is a very odd culture in these 3 countries, whereby a girl student can be seen dating a full grown man. The age gap can be as long as 20 over years. Normally, if this happens in countries like Hong Kong, China, Singapore or even Malaysia, it is a known fact that when a young woman and an old man were together, it is often because the man has money and the woman inherits all of the money if he were to die. But it is a different case in Japan, Korea and Taiwan. The men and the girls were together because they love each other.

Take a look at Japan for instance, it is not odd to find girl students who had crushes on their teachers, who still managed to have good looks despite in their mid-30s or mid-40s. Minus the tv culture aside, and we have many kinds of true stories going around, where love is actually there for those aging men and those young and innocent girls. It is, yet, another symbol where some cultures are find to be troubling while others find it very normal. It is still a respect.

What troubles me is that I can never understand those girls on what they see in a man who is full grown. Is it because he is financially stable? Is it because of his masculinity? Is it because they believe a man is and always will be protective towards them? Or is it that maturity that is depicting an aura, that only the girls can see? Well, it is just this poor girl's troubling thoughts that I will only date a man who is 3 years older and below. I don't even like dating a younger man. I'm just not comfortable dating a man who is old enough to be my brother or uncle. But still, I salute those who had the courage to go beyond that age limit, and still remain very much in love with each other.

Now, truly, love knows no boundaries. We have the consummate love, homosexual love, love that sparks between an elderly and a youngster (regardless of gender), even incest is a kind of love being practised, even if it didn't sound right. I might not be the right person to say this, but, love is really a special feeling that exists inside, deep down, that will emerge when you need it most. It somehows soothes the soul when everything goes smoothly, yet pierce your inner self when everything crumbles down. When everything you build in years, collapses within minutes, you find it very hard to be who you were. You became imperfect. Yet, someone out there loves you for who you are, not for your physical attributes, not for your achievements, not for your status, but for the beauty within that attracts him or her to remain by your side. Cherish whoever that loves you.

This is a saying that matches what I want to point in my whole post:"Love is not about finding the perfect person, but by being able to see a imperfect person perfectly". Once again, Happy Belated White Day. May all the lovers in the world be able to enjoy the happiness they experienced together.

The Art of Banning

Banning has certainly turn into an art, no thanks to the recent "fever" of it after it comes out from the lips of our Health Minister, Dr.Chua Soi Lek. Giving a certain issue as many light and exposure as possible, and when tragedy happens, they ban it, making that product illegal, and those who enjoyed it are considered enjoying sinful pleasures.

Among the products(or, the media who promote the product through advertising) that were banned were cigarettes, alcoholic drinks, and most recently, but not yet been implemented, fast food. I can understand the danger of cigarettes and alcoholic drinks as it is truly hazardous and will bring someone to the hands of death if not been controlled properly. But fast food? Is that really a sin to enjoy fast food once in a while? If you were afraid of obesity, why don't you banned the mamak stalls from doing business as well? Their calories will match those who ate at McDonald's or KFC, and they are cheaper.

I would like to suggest the government to ban a few more items too. Advertisements have been a menace anyway. Everytime when it comes to the climax we will be annoyed by colourful advertisements which will sorely blind our eyes and attracting the customers to buy their products, which, I'm certainly not overwhelmed nor interested in trying. Even us peasants could not enjoy a good show without advertisements around.

These are the Items that should be considered by the government to unleash the art of banning:

1) Slimming centres
Don't you just hate those girls appearing on screens? Showing off their magnificent body shape, making those men drool till their salivas drop to the floor, telling us with seductive eyes, that this, is the best place to get in shape? I'm surprised that the gym didn't get as much exposure as slimming centres. Gym is supposedly the healthier option where work must be done to be able to keep in shape. But I guess people do get lazy sometimes, preferring the easy way out rather than working out to get their body shape back. It must be good to just let the machine do the trick and you get your body shape back.

Reason to ban: Those body shapes are so intriguing, the men might be so aroused, that they'll want to find a girl just like that. Girls on the other hand, vow to stop eating until they reach the shape they wanted or the shape that was portrayed on the TV, since they didn't have the money to register for the programme.

2) Skin care products
Move away apples and oranges, because Olay, SK-II and a few more products are going to conquer you! Yep, skin care products. Those girls who had radiant skin within 10 seconds of the advertisements, must have made those girls grow wild over the products. Skin becoming smooth in the next few weeks, making the skins touchable for both men and women, and people awing over that really beautiful skin. Girls would like to be the centre of the crowd, making her friends jealous over her beautiful skin that will stay the same even after the exposure of sunlight. Vitamin C is supposedly the best way to keep the skin. But of course, there are a few people who had trouble with skin problems like eczema. Still, Vitamin C, which is contain in most of the natural fresh fruits you can find in the market, is the best substance you have for good skin.

Reason to ban: Computers are so advanced, they make everyone's face look flawless. If you would look at those ambassadors without their makeup, or without any computer regeneration, you might want to think twice about it.

3) Hair care products
I don't even need to elaborate much about this one. Its just a girl, with long hair, flapping it everywhere they want, showing that they do not have dandruff nor tangles. And it's only the shampoos that does that trick. It looks so gorgeous on them. Too gorgeous, actually.

Reason to ban: Again, computers. If every girl in the advertisements have that same length of hair, it's bound to make them ugly. What's with long, straight hair anyways? To tell you the truth, Siti Nurhaliza is not impressing me to buy Pantene with that fake hair of hers. Why can't anyone just do a behind-the-scenes of those advertisements, then we can see who's wearing a wig, and who had really tried the shampoo, and is showing the real results. I'm sure, not any women liked a same length hair. It looks too ugly and old-fashioned. Be more creative advertisers!

Dear government, these are the things that should be banned too if you are considering of banning fast food advertisements, banning celebrities and banning firecrackers. Control your people. You banned firecrackers from celebrating every celebration of Chinese New Year and Deepavali, and when Hari Raya comes, they have their very own bamboo firecrackers, they blew themselves up, landed on the hospital, and you guys just deem it as lack of parental education. Violating the art of banning may cause you to pay dearly for your actions. Becareful, as the art might come back to you.

I have said my piece. It is up to the others to decide whether am I saying the right thing, or I'm just ranting or violating my freedom of speech. It people find it offensive, I can't do anything. I might be charged by the art of banning, and they might ban my blog instead.

Banning everything is the best. That shows Malaysia as a true Islamic country, instead of "Malaysia, Truly Asia".

Thanks and good day.

The Culture of Intimacy

May I ask the readers, those who already had a relationship: How intimate can you go with your own love partners? I assume that some are only limited to just holding hands; while others might be more passionate, and they hugged each other, they kissed, they allow their partners to touch some of the private areas of their body, and of course, the ultimate love ritual, sex.

People get very excited when they discuss about sex. It is and always is a taboo subject in the Asian countries. Just mention these three alphabets, S.E.X, and men will light up and start imagining about their encounter with women and how to get them into bed with them. But it is still not an open topic, which one leads to this curiousity: India and China are one of those countries with the most population, and yet they are also conservative when it comes to intimacy. No one is openly claiming that their sexual lifestyle is satisfying.

Still, through the studies of sexual history, dating back to 1500 years ago, warriors and kings all had happy sex lives, that keeps themselves healthy, and they are always focused on achieving their goals. There is nothing to deny that youngsters are craving for sex. With their young blood rushing around their veins, these adolescents are always full of emotion and creating new hope for the people. It is very common for girls and boys to get involved in sex after some time into their relationship. As portrayed from some Japanese comics (or more commonly known as manga), those "shojo" (meaning young girls) comics often portray girls in reality, who fall in love and are willing to give away their virginity to the man they love. The manga had shamelessly show us how much of sex that young people can have. The manga love story was a story full of passion and desire, that even after they broke up, the girls held no regret of having sex with their ex-boyfriends.

It is disturbing, but true. Those Japanese manga artists, are mocking the society. While the people still reckon that we are a clean society, deep down inside, we know the rebellious youngsters are not satisfied with sex after marriage. They wanted to try sex, knowing what sex is like. Some are not careful and end up getting pregnant, that is when the men felt that it was not a responsibility to have the baby; after all, they are just having fun. Even those women who were pregnant are not regretting their shameful ways. They themselves are not going to be responsible for their actions, that is why they abandon their babies after it was borned, leaving the newly born babies to die, or a good Samaritan to pick them up.

Come to think of it, why do people think of it as disturbing now, when the culture of sex had been practised since the ancient time? Even incest was practised. I'm not sure if everyone knew about it, but before the Queen of Egypt, Cleopatra meet the dashing Julius Caesar or the later counterpart, Marc Antony, she was married to her younger brother, who became a pharoah at the age of fourteen! She was twenty-two, and she had to marry her brother to become the Queen. If that was portrayed in the society now, people would have cry foul over the wedding or the coronation.

Religion seems to be playing a big role of it. Christianity, Buddhism, Islam, Hinduism, Judaism, all claim that sex is a sin, and that the body of a woman must remain pure until she have found her husband, whom is worthy of taking her purity as she is his wife. Sex has always been a ritual of bond between a man and a woman. That when they have sex, they are spiritually bonded together and attached as one. That is when they feel the fire of love of their partners. I'm sure this is what young couples felt whenever they had sex together, if they truly love each other. Sex with passion and just sex, is two different things. Sure, you might enjoy just having sex, achieving orgasm and leaving yourselves satisfied over the bond. But you would never feel the love, because you do not have any special feelings for that someone, just thinking that she has a sexy body. And that kind of phenomenon is what I see in the American culture.

I do not agree in couples having sex together, until they are certain of their feelings for each other. Some couples just had sex after a few months, thinking that they are going to remain like that forever, but in the end they still broke up, and the one who is going to lose, is the female side. She lost her feelings, and she lost her own purity. That's double the blow a man can have, unless it is the woman who is being manipulative. It works two ways. Not all men are perverts, and not all women are saints either. This is how complex our society is, entangled in the sin of desire, to have sex. One must becareful before giving your first time to the other. Because, who knows, if you trade the purity of your soul to the wrong person, you are bound to be in living hell.

I suggest that the society start bringing up the topic of sex instead of sweeping them under the carpet. Youngsters need to know how sex works, to be aware of the signs that they might get involved in a relationship. They have to be aware instead of accepting all the actions and signs give. Youngsters, both men and women must understand that sometimes, "No" is a good answer. There is no need to rush in having sex. Let the desire accumulate inside you. This is because, if you had found your lifetime partner, she or he is all yours and only yours truly.

Sounds kind of perverted? You do the math.

Thanks and good day.