Stand By Me

I'm in one of those empty moments again, that I need to seriously blog it out before I can resume work.

I know, at 4am, what sort of work can I complete eh? Unfortunately, I've been stuck, stuck with my own emotions that I think I need to clear it, before I resume doing anything.

Curiousity got the better of me today. I went to look at Wil Wheaton (yes, THAT Wil Wheaton. Star Trek, The Big Bang Theory, yada yada) and his journal. Something about thanking his mates on a tour he went to. Curiousity got the better of me, and I began scrolling back to his previous entries. I liked his writings, it was personal and not too intelligently demeaning towards people. He writes just like you and me, and doesn't present anything too judgmental.

He wrote about appearing on this 25th anniversary of Stand By Me as it was being prepared for a blu-ray release. He talked about, finally reuniting with his cast and crew. And how for the first time, he felt true great grief and loss, as he spoke about River Phoenix.

As soon as I finish reading that article, my heart shattered. It was like having this instant emptiness engulfing me. I frantically shared the link on my Tumblr and Facebook, hoping to trigger a response from someone, anyone, who felt the nostalgia. And then, I tried to remember what Stand By Me, the film, looked like. I've definitely watched the film before. I cannot forget that leech scene and the ending song, which to this day, remains one of my favourite, and the reason why I hated Sean Kingston the day he released his first single ripping that bloody song off.

And I saw how Wil talked about River, and I could feel the honesty in that man, as he tries to describe his friendship, even though the feelings were suppressed for close to 18 years (River died at 1993). I truly felt the loss of River Phoenix. Even now, I could almost picture him doing movies from the range of Johnny Depp or Robert Downey Jr, people who were once lost but are capable to find themselves by emerging victorious again in this age. Not to mention that he was born with the good looks, just like RDJ. I could almost see them starring in a really smart, witty, heartwarming film already. Sigh. Sorry, I digressed.

But I guess the biggest loss, and why did I felt this really big heavyweight on my chest, is because I think I missed my dad again. If I remember correctly, he introduced Stand By Me to little me. I definitely remember him trying to teach me how to sing that song. He loved that song a lot, so did my mother I guessed. But my father has always been the kind of person who introduces me new things without trying to corrupt my mind, so to speak.

He introduced me to some lovely music from the 80s and the 90s, which made me a lover for older songs even though that decade has passed. Far too long I kept that suppressed due to unspoken reasons. I think it's just natural for a person to just suppress everything, because life just have to move on. Time does not wait for those who cried too much on their loss.

But, lately, I've unlocking memories again. I've started listening to songs from the 80s and 90s, watching the Grammys performances again, and sometimes I felt a sharp pain at the corner of my head as if I lost my memories and I just regained them. My friend reckoned I merely suppressed it so deep down, that the sudden yank of the memories will be painful to anyone.

No sudden death is easy to take in, even if it has passed for 10 years. This is the 10th year since my dad died suddenly due to a heart attack. Gosh, Time passed so much. I'm no longer 13, I'm no longer responsible for caretaking, and I'll soon embark on my own journey.

I wondered how the Phoenix family were, to have their baby taken away from them and feel the sadness again and again because his death was so tragic. I've seen his picture in the coffin so many times, but today, it was the first time, I truly saw the ugliness of his death, much like my own father's. Sometimes I wished I was never there, I wished I never tried resuscitating him. I wished, I just stood there like a dumbfuck and cry my eyes out, instead I touched his cold body with my hands and I tried again and again to do something, but, it never happened. He was out cold, and having a tinge of blue appearing over his face (as how I remembered it). After that, till today, I have a phobia of touching my loved ones who are dead. Others have no problem telling grandma to rest in peace as they touched her forehead when she passed on; I thought twice before doing it, but I did it anyway. She don't deserve this, since it is my own phobia to counter.

I guess to relate this two stories together seemed far-fetched. But believe me, that one movie brought out a lot in me. I have not been crying, but it definitely distracted me enough to remember what was it like to have a dad before this. Ten years without a father taught me so many life lessons, it's no wonder we, as his children, all turned out different than how my mother intended us to be. None of us, are who we are 10 years ago when that fateful day occured. He was not perfect, he never claimed to be, only that my mother wanted so much from him. But, much as he gave my family plenty of pain and unhappiness while he was alive, he was also the radical one who taught me the most about life, politics and music.

I owe it to him that I have explored to what extent of a chameleon I can be, how to behave in front of different people, and how never to ask help from anyone even if I'm doomed to be alone. I was bullied when I was younger and I always cannot bear being alone that's why I don't like having no friends. After not having him around, being alone became something I'm accustomed to.

I owe this to him. I owe this introduction to the coming of age adventure of four young children to my father, for showing me this beautiful movie and song. I'll never forget the happy days when life felt like it can be simpler. Because it was worth it. I've kept quiet before because friends used to say how naive I was, but I think with this naivety is a living proof that I was there, learning through the process, and just being plain happy. But instead, lately, being happy is becoming a learning process for me because I'm no longer a naturally happy person. If I could go back to the time when I could smile at any time of the day just because I felt like it, I would. And this movie, is part of that memory.

As I hear the song again and again, this time, I could feel my dad around. I know he wasn't there to pick me up from the shadows or guide me out of the mess. He's just looking at me. He knows I could do it without him.

Dad, I owe everything I learnt, to you.

"If the sky we look upon

Should tumble and fall

And the mountains should crumble to the sea

I won't cry, I won't cry, No I won't shed a tear

Just as long as you stand, stand by me"

-Ben E. King, Stand By Me

Grasp

Clench, relax. Grip, relax. Struggle, relax. Stretch, relax. Clinch, relax. Claw, relax. Touch, relax. Wriggle, relax. Crack, relax. Reach, relax. Out of reach. Ventilate. Getting further. Hyperventilate. Unreachable. Claw protuding. Aiming. Relax, failed. Claw aiming, at neck. Marking. Scratch. Tear. Pull. Blood showing. Nerves reacting. Pain. Breathe. Relax. Breathe. Relax. Breathe. Relax. Claw stops. Look down. Bloodsoaked. Last Breath. Lifeless. Invisible hand. Grasps life. Slipped. Heavens sighed.

Banterful rant

I remembered the time I whipped out my Blackberry, only to take a black and white picture of the side of the swimming pool while my media camp friends were enjoying the time of their lives.

I whipped it out again just to have a look, just to post it on my Tumblr, with the quotes "I missed the time before I know my entire life is about to change".

I seriously had no idea that it will give me such an impact in my life, months and months after that media camp happened. A year ago, at this time, I'm rushing my thesis, my final year project. Now, I'm rushing through my articles, which piled up when I were into a complete blur and only occasionally writing my stuff and deciding, sentence by sentence, how it's going to sound like.

The transitions I have were just buzz crazy. First, an infathomable crush on Patrick Stump, then it switched to James Franco, then to John Frusciante (oh I really lust for young John Frusciante!! The time before he succumbed to heroin and emerged again, awesome and musically talented. So youthful, so handsome, so age compatible!!!), and now bouncing off and balancing between Thom Yorke, Florence and the Machine, and Muse. Every musical discovery is a discovery for me. And before I know it, I'm now a sucker for non-mainstream music that you probably CANNOT find in mainstream radio (Hate you, Malaysian radio. Yay for BFM, especially its 33RPM segment. I Love Rock!)

It is also these times that I actually spend so much time alone, in front of the computer, just cruising in the interwebs, searching for songs after songs, and occasionally doing my work, or even catching movies alone. I've been rejecting my friends' invitation to meet up and have some socialising fun. From telling them I was busy (I was, until recently), to finally just saying "Y'know, I'm kinda comfortable being alone at the moment. I'd like this to keep on until my job's over. Lets try meeting up once I've quit my job,"

I know I'm abit like a loner at the moment. Doing everything on my own, hating my mom for her nagging (and negative conversation starters. It's like she can't say something nice for us to respond). I think I'm scaring plenty of people off. And I've become secluded from Facebook and more active on Twitter only because of one person. Well, I don't have to see that person anymore after I'm done with this bullshit. Looking forward to that.

I wonder how different my life would be really. Did I miss the ex? I can't tell. I've stopped listening to songs we used to listen to after I've been bouncing off the more indie music scene (which, by the way, isn't a solo effort >_> I have a lot of prompting from another friend). Do I yearn for a comforting hug or someone who'd be there for me at 5 or 6am in the morning while I do my work? Yes, sometimes.

There's no denying to that. And of course, I did express jealousy to my friends who were able to bounce back to the dating scene so quick after their break up, but I guess bouncing back so fast isn't really my style. Not because I'm not over the relationship, just, I don't know, nothing clicked, nothing clicked between me and the other guy. Although there was this one chance for me to get to know more guys and I blew it by saying I had to have dinner at home. Sigh. But I was, at that time, still a little confused following the death of my grandmother of what my direction is, that I'd rather holed up at this place called "home" than go out to meet new boys who can be my potential partner.

Previously, my grandmother was supposed to be the reason I want to get out of here. And now that she's gone, it was a better reason to get out. Not because I loathe doing house chores around now that my maid's gone (On the contrary, it stopped my mother from talking shit about me not helping around anymore), but, it's that emptiness felt in the house. I'm talking about, a house that used to fill 7 to 8 people because my mother wants her parents to stay with us from the day I was born. And slowly, one by one, from my father, to grandfather, to grandmother, they left us, and now it's just the four of us + one cousin.

Is this a good reason for me to venture out and find my own career direction, not to mention getting a better fulfilment of my life? I'd say, hells yea, finally I can get my private space and all that crap I've been yearning for. Am I scared shitless about taking that first step? Yes, yes, definitely. I don't like the idea of throwing all my money down the drain without even checking how deep that drain is. I'd still like to pick my money up from the drain thank you very much, even if I did decide to throw it in, in the very first place.

Life isn't easy these days. In fact, life is fucking confusing. But I don't have anyone to share it with. Who'd understand? Who is in that same state of confusion? And I don't feel like listening to irrelevant banter about how I can stand up again and face the obstacles, like I've did again and again and again. Lets face it, it ain't the year 2001, when it looked obvious that I suffered more than the rest of people my age because my dad died. It's the year 2011 now. Every single person has their own shit to bear, it's not like my shit's any worse than theirs. I love my friends for trying to free up space so that I'm considered an important element in their lives, but thanks and no thanks. I know how you need to live yours. You don't have to worry about me. Like I said, I was pretty much good being alone. I have music as my company.

In my Tumblr blog, I mentioned on how I might find happiness by attending MGMT's concert. But now I'm not sure if that will happen anymore. Who am I kidding when I tell people I might find potential boyfriends just by being there alone? Who am I kidding really? My music inclination's been the joke of my family because it's "freaking weird", because I've been doing things alone (well I used my money, what the fuck they want?). SIGH!

Of course I've been dreaming about it, on and off, of seeing this boy I really like, preferably a mixed, with earrings and tattoos and a perfect smile. He must like me for me, and we can talk about music, movies, art all day long. He must be able to speak Mandarin and Cantonese because I'd like to speak that language once in awhile. He won't diss my politics, in fact, he's active in current issues and we'd spend all day just debating about policies and debunking each other's misconceptions about something. He'd also be sly in making his appearances, and just giving me surprises day by day, and I'd return the favour by writing different styles of notes telling him how much I yearn being with him. He'll be a humble man who doesn't mind showing off his talents. It'd be good if he has some John Frusciante traits. I'd squeal!!!

That said, dreams are sometimes just pleasant endorphins released to the brain to make me feel really good. I noticed that every time I want something, God just gives it to me either very late, or it was the opposite. And yes, again, true, God, I did not go to the MGMT concert to meet boys. It was to have fun with the music and just hang out and head bang to their psychedelic goodness. Which reminds me: Two Days Left! Yay! Will I get any happy endings? I don't know, will let you know if my John Frusciante + James Franco + Patrick Stump showed up yea?

Am I happy with my self-discovery? Yes, so far so good. At least, I'm happy. Confused as fuck, but happy. Tremendously happy in fact, that I get to go on this journey, and alone this time. That I can finally emerged from hiding under the shadows of somebody else. That I'm now considered an equal individual, and not labelled as "so and so's girlfriend".

I think this is what I'm afraid of. What if, by dating again, he overshadows my taste for music, movies and art? Will I let the future partner do it like what I let my ex did to me? I doubt it. This time I'd stood my ground and say "listen to the fucking radio. There's no 'your song selections' or 'my song selections' when we're in the car". I'd be fucking lucky if I get someone my age who likes rock in this day and age. Seriously.

But then and again, as I listen to young John Frusciante strumming "Under the Bridge", I'm reminded of the innocence of us youths, that we can do anything possible under the roof, that we lived and let live. That the continuous dynamics shifting from one interest to another so fast, poof, another decade gone and we did not realised the changes until much later.

That, usually at this time, when schoolchildren prepare to go to school. I'm still wide awake, finding my life's direction. I'm yearning, yearning for a sign for me to keep on going my path I believed in, even though I can't make out that path just yet. At least the discovery has been fun so far.

Till the next verbal diarrhea kick in, I wish all my well wishers a happy and satisfying life. I know you're worried. Don't worry, I'm well. I just need the alone time, the reflective time, to really skewer my life choices. Eitherway though, my mistakes were beautiful, because if it wasn't for those mistakes, I wouldn't be the person you know.

Off Switch

I wished there was one, to turn off my emotions, my animosities, my doubts, my long standing issue with work.

I have feelings too. And it's been affecting me. From a crazy follower of an actor I switched to listen to all those music I used to love to a point of addiction, developing withdrawal symptoms from it. Like I'm on crack. I guess I'm not kidding when I said before music is my drug.

I just drew a mock picture of a woman in distress. Not much, just a head with hairs, and two hands cupping the face. Surrounding her are the words "Shit", "Hurt", "Pain", "Depression". I just need to vent it out. I've got a headache developing. It's tiring arguing with some idiot who don't know he's the cause of it, and thinking, it's my domestic affairs. FUCK OFF will you, you sickening, narcissistic, thinking that you know it all, arrogant, fictitious BASTARD!

I just can't cope. I mean, it's easy to take a few hours off to not think about it, but you want to permanently shut it off. I know I have to leave.

Sometimes I think I'm a failure, and sometimes I think I'm like this because I don't dare to speak out. Well, now I did, and now I kept wondering what are my repercussions.

I'm glad, that I did, speak out, against that idiot. Whether or not he dismisses my outburst as a one time thing, I don't care. I did it. I'm proud of it.

The toughest thing now is how to express that pent up emotion inside. Crying wasn't helping. I couldn't even cry save for that few tears.

I don't know. I'm pretty sure I don't need help. Maybe I just hate being alone. Maybe I just cannot negotiate. I'm terrible at speaking to people because I always think I'll offend people, and then they cannot accept my views. My past is what traumatised me to unable myself to speak.

I even turned the music volume down now, because I can't cope with the loud noise. It's like a distant echo behind my head, the songs. If there were, stimulants, to bring me to fantasyland right now, it'd be perfect.

Well, time's up. I need to get back down to reality, slowly.

I really wish I have an off switch

Transition

I came back from organising, possibly, one of the last funerals I'll be seeing for the next few years to come. My grandmother finally passed on after a few difficult months.

Personally it is a transition for me. For one, I can finally live my own life. For the past decade, I've been living partially for another person, whether it is for grandfather and grandmother, or to help out with both. Well, I guess it's about time I make my own career work, or make my life work. I no longer crave staying here. I want to venture out even if I might suffer from bruises.

I've also changed, by placing a verbal warning on Facebook to those who lack the need to respect themselves after some major serious case of attention seeking examples, so I won't be too friendly if any of them tried to mess around with me.

I guess that's it. Patrick Stump's "Truant Wave" is distracting me and pushing his message of love. I'm also bedazzled by James Franco's stunning appeal.

Will talk more next time.

Snippets of Virtual Memo

I'd like to tell my future employers: What you see on Facebook sometimes does not reflect my work integrity. If that is an indication of who I am, then I'm sorry to say this, but seriously, either Go Fuck Yourselves, or I will not approve your friend request at all.

My definition of Facebook was a private space for me to do my crazy things, not for you to look at what time I posted THAT shit and then berate me for posting that and not hand up work (might I add, there was no real deadline to my work other than the real deadline in which I posted almost nothing). And to those of you wondering "Oh, you bad bad worker! You must have posted links and all that during your work time," Fuck you guys. I don't post it during work hours. So if I work for 24 hours my Facebook page will have to be void of any material I want to share for 24 hours?

I don't blame you if you want to use your Facebook page as a means of networking, but seriously, most young people do NOT use their Facebook for network purposes. To us, it is a virtual personal page of ourselves, sometimes purely constructed for public view, like how mine turn out to be. If you judge me based on my Facebook, and not on actual work I put out, then seriously, you shouldn't be an employer, you're just another Facebook addict turned psychologist wannabe.

And I approved your stupid friend request partly because I thought you are a little more sincere in trying to be a friend than an employer. I thought and believed you know how to differentiate between private and public discourse. But like most employers who don't know how to do it, they just don't. I admire those who do know when to keep their mouths shut when they see something on Facebook and not immediately judge me.

If this keeps going, I may have to delete you my "friend". You're nothing more than somebody desparate for attention to me, first by the mass tags, and then by all these messages you send to me about work, not to mention your public feuds which is NOT something I want to read at all. Geez get over it, somebody publicises their grouches, big deal, if we have to revenge on everybody we'll have a ball.

(Everybody starting to realised I'm addressing only one employer. While that may be true, I'm hoping this holds true for future employers as well after this.)

Trippy Happy. Fuck Yeah. Fall Hard.

I get happy so easily these days.

Just a picture, music, some cup of brownish goodness whether it's iced chocolate or iced coffee. I smile so easily, it's infectious that people look at me, smile, and instantly smile back.

Damn, I'm like that happy kiddy Chuckles the Clown from Toy Story 3 who's actually mopey and sad inside because I definitely don't look like a trippy happy kid.

Then again, maybe I should just embrace it. It's easy to show someone your happy face, then to explain the sorrows you go through, only to be snubbed at and said "your problem's just the smallest shit I've ever heard in my life,". Okay, some might not put it that way but I'm just saying.

"Time to suck it up and take it like an adult," a friend used to say. No point moping about it to people, lest you want to be remembered as an annoyance amongst a bunch of people who are not familiar with you in the first place.

Nowadays, my stressful moments are easily elevated with reading and looking through the amazing things that people share on Tumblr. Nah, not Facebook, eww, my personal circle sometimes just lack the taste of sharing artsy moments, and sometimes it's purely to avoid my current employer, since his imagination can run wild just based on what I post on Facebook.

I've seen awesome Malaysians who shared the same kind of perverted energy (ehehehehehe) and inspiring articles which truthfully, opened up my mind more than any reading material I've found in Malaysia. Some quirky little things that are shared by my current favourite American musician, Patrick Stump, on his thoughts about fashion, animation, some a capella videos (I love it when you do the "Scream" part of the Michael Jackson a capella!). Just recently I've found Wil Wheaton, whom I don't really remember from Star Trek The Next Generation DESPITE it being one of the more memorable TV series that I've watched and only recently seen him in The Big Bang Theory, his quotes, writings equally leave me grabbing for more of his stuff.

I love it when they say Tumblr is based in New York, because to me, New York is like the city of art that I'd like to go through, not really LA. I guess I prefer metropolitans than glitzy glamourous beachside.

Stupid imaginative things like these made my day at these time and age. My mind always go through "media explosion" every time I go through Tumblr. I love love love all the talented and artsy shit that goes through there.

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I gotta admit, I wish I was dating. No, not serious relationship-esque dating. But, dating, just, meeting someone, chat with him, hit off with electric sparks, that kind of shit.

But as Malaysians we, tend to err, view dating as serious business after awhile, and wants to get serious so there will be a demand of "will you be committed with me or not?".

Mine started off like that actually, we don't set any ground rules, except for mine which is no soft toys and flowers yada yada yada, and before I know it four years gone by. I was supposed to celebrate the fourth year this year, but, ah heck, I broke it off because when it's time to be committed, it cannot be.

My choice of men have been faltering between the talented, intelligent to the super talented and super intelligent. Of course, we all do, mine's more focused on people who excel in art, like, theatre, drawings, music, writings, movies. So I'm not just drawn to Patrick Stump (who really, really captured my eye after his hiatus from Fall Out Boy. And no, I was never Pete Wentz' fangirl), James Franco, Brendon Urie, Conor Knighton (yum), maybe a little bit of Mark Zuckerberg but not much since I don't know him well enough. Eye candies, err, pretty much everywhere, but real talented eye candies, tough to find, tough to gain followers, and really really easy to chew on. Mmm.

I can see why some girls are turn on to Julian Assange. The cyberpunk of the Internet. Despite how he looks, he draws in an odd charisma that probably set some girls off. I've read the leaked testimonials and police reports and I feel that the two girls he met were not stupid girls. They are just not. And the fact is, men and women need some sort of sexual relationship just that you just don't stay committed to each other for further prospects like marriage.

So yes, I don't appreciate being in this side of the continent where dating can mean serious business, sometimes I just want to be involved in purely "play with hearts, don't take into heart" kind of dates. Maybe I've yet to find my path to a good prospective target to move, or that I'm too slow in reading some messages guys tend to give out.

And sometimes, just purely letting my brain right lobe do the tricks and I'm falling into a pool of imagination where I wish I was canoodling with the kind of guy I want to meet. It may sound pathetic, but judging from my line of work and the kind of guys I meet and don't meet? I'd say it's pretty plausible to let me go wild in imagination instead of docilely waiting for some dude to pass by.

Fuck yeah.

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I wish I wasn't here. In this country.

Not for the reasons everyone's thinking. I don't plan to migrate. I just want to work in another country for the experience.

True, I may get the some kind of experience here. I have been, just by working in a small newspaper. But I hate it. I hate that, everytime there's a conversation, people will talk about their experience overseas, and how they are heartened and humbled by those experiences, that they decide to bring it back to Malaysia.

I'd really loved that, an experience abroad, and with it, the capability of bringing it back to Malaysia. I can't do it from the small turf of my home.

Call me petty and unreasonable, but you try churning out good stuff living in a house ranging from the old to the sick to the noisy to the young who can't seem to use his legs now that both his sisters are driving. And unfortunately I can't even rent a freaking room all by myself with the kind of pay I'm getting. Maybe I aspire to go outstation. I really hate it when I'm in a family structure where I can't talk it out with the elders without getting cynical or sacarstic feedbacks from them. They are not supportive. Sigh, I guess venturing on my own seem like a good choice.

I don't know how I feel it, but recently some people are kind of purposely trying to seek an argument with me by being nasty and snide for no reason at all. What the fuck mate. I'd get it if you have a valid reason, but if you snub me just because you like it I swear, you won't like me by the time I'm done saying all the truthful shit about you.

I've been rising and falling hard. It's like, something is trying to tell me, I really cannot be here. I'm not meant to stay in Subang Jaya, and honestly? I don't want to be here again unless I get to buy my own residential spot in Subang Jaya.

I don't know, maybe I'm tired of staying with my mother or with a bunch of people when I don't get privacy (I've been talking about it too many times). Unlike many Malaysians who are okay with that, I'm just tired. Tired, sick of the everyday drama. And her obligatory "diss the eldest child" movement still stands strong every Chinese New Year. Why do parents do that? Seriously?

And no, don't tell me to talk to her, I have, and it doesn't register in her, so be it. I need to go.

I'm just waiting for the right time to. And until then, I'll still be rising and falling hard in this little career. But it's okay.

Because if you fall, you better fall really hard, remember the pain, remember the frustration, remember how much humiliation you go through just to secure a person for a story. I have, and I'm partially immuned when someone throws me an accusation. I said partially, because I still fight back when someone tries to be nasty when I'm not in the mood to entertain them.

Superficial boredom

I have this monster pile of boredom on my chest that I need to slowly dissolve lest I get stoned to death by its hideousness.

I love my R&Rs. Just simply amazing, but I have no mood to look for excitement. I'm just simply consuming whatever information's on to me, while silently following the updates on Egypt, and patiently waiting for The Daily Show be uploaded on the web.

I think I lost the knack for writing at the moment. I'm just doing plenty of mumble jumble until I got my sense of tracking back. It must be all that late nights and article writing that's gotten me numb.

Two things excite me at the moment. 1) MGMT!!!! and I'm going to see them in Kuala Lumpur, 2) err...just finding awesome songs that are NOT often found in Malaysia grrr. Oh and one extra credit goes to Patrick Stump for delighting my life with his little entries into his blog *hearts*.

I always have this little happy feeling inside everytime I feel that my life was going fine. Like, the kind of "omg omg omg I love me so much!!". Yea, that fall in love with yourself kind of feel and it really perks you up and make you go into what you love to do.

Strangely, I'm not that hyped up over Chinese New Year. I didn't even manage to buy a new clothing. To be fair, I have yet to wear one new clothing that I bought last year and there's no need for unnecessary spending. The fatigue over work and all that kind of gotten me tamer and think less about the what-ifs and resentment over my relatives, unlike the last few years.

And the weather? Oh so gooood, although I might want to add that last year it was a rainy Chinese New Year as well. I sure hope this is a good luck charm. I'm kinda sick of seeing bad luck happening to me over and over, especially with my car. Argh, the repair costs that kept showing up....very very pricey....

Oh and one more would be, probably a change of job, but I still haven't found the courage to get out. Shit. I need to get out, move out, but at the same time I'm scared like a bitch because I'll be doing it alone with no family. Then again, that's what everybody goes through right? Right, let me try and dig out my gut and then lets proceed. Also, can someone recommend me an awesome job?

Alright I have enough of ranting. See you when the next monster pile comes in.

Fickle

I've made a decision not to treat myself so seriously in terms of Internet presence per se. Pretty much a self-discovery for me after a few turns of looking at my Twitter, Facebook, Blog and Tumblr. Bear with me here, I'm going to talk about this self-discovery and the good thing about it. It's narcissistic.

In 2006, the purpose of me having this channel was to "let my views be known". Of course, that was back in the days when socio-political stances are pretty strong and when people actually opened up the blog for a reason.

I treated myself so seriously at that time, shaping myself as a "anonymous" character that cares about the current events of the world. The youth who is not apolitical or apathetic. I've made some pretty good arguments, not strong (I'm never extreme), but reasonable enough to allow people to accept my views. Of course, after that I began to engage in some arguments (over the internet) with other "bloggers" per se, and got cheesed off when they kept harping on the same issue over and over again without looking at us (hey hey, hello, I just put my comment there, maybe if you bothered to read it you get my point???)

I guess as a student I was bored and passionate enough, having all the time in the world to care about what's going on with the universe.......bear with me here, imaginative cue on......that I would be the voice of my own, to sound off the adults, to lay some serious bombs over their pretentious claims, to double up as a media shield and called myself the fighter of media freedom. Not to mention that my views were so huge, friends read my blog, they praised it; if they don't like it, they'll make a comment down there, providing with me arguments. All in a day's work of a blogger.

Now here's the thing.

I started the phase called "growing up", and in that phase I started become concerned with things like, privacy, offence. I used to be very critical of The Star for their many mistakes and intentional bias to the ruling party, so much that I'd posted the links and then laughed at them on Facebook. I happened to have one Facebook friend who was working there and I was always hoping it'll trigger a response and then hopefully they'll start caring about what public views are about their newspaper.

But the fact is, most people will still carry on that kind of policy, and the only way out of it is to get out of the newspaper and work somewhere else. Strange, harsh reality I've learnt that is not something lecturers or classmates bother to tell you unless you seek consultation with them. And I began to wonder if these thoughts are necessary to be put online. What more, when my own Facebook circle started to widen and more people are looking into my profile. It's no longer a friend circle, but one network filled with lecturers, friends, people who add me because they've seen me in work, many.

And slowly, but surely, I withdraw my opinions and thoughts, merely placing all the things that made me, me. Kooky stuff like funny URLs, sharing articles, or just plain talking about my feelings. But no more on what I thought about politics, or the media, or things that really concerned me.

You may say, I've turned fickle-minded in the presence of the Internet. I still talk about it in private, and unfortunately not many people is capable of talking to me in the same way anymore. Since I've no longer have a boyfriend, I guess everything I say falls on deaf ears. Some times I acted like a real bimbo and just talk about what everyone talks about. Movies, music, because who's going to listen to my unnecessary nagging of politics? Hell, I haven't had time to read through all the political analysis to make a good judgement out of a political issue compared to my times as a student.

Here's the reason why I think I turn fickle-minded. Bear in mind, it's just my theory.

1) The existence of old people in the Internet. I always think that is a good reason why I suddenly despised the Internet. It's enough I have the old people nagging about their theories when I'm home, I have to listen to some bunch of old people terrorising the Internet with their incessant behaviour? Yes, I do realised that having more Internet penetration to a wider crowd is a good thing and you give the old people something else to do. Maybe I'm a populist but the sudden new age group crowding the Internet kind of put me off guard. Especially when I see friends who cursed on Facebook, only to get their mother's sounding, inside Facebook! Geez. Luckily I only have relatives with me so far, but even then I've toned down a lot compared to early days of Facebook where I cursed like no business.

2) Because even if you consider your comment as something serious, someone else don't. Too many times I tried to play the "mature" game and came out with a reasonable comment, only to have some mindfuck (doesn't matter male or female) that decides to trash your comment by insulting you just because they think it's funny to see people going angry over them. Sometimes it's the bloggers themselves that are pretty unreasonable. A valid argument's there, they don't want to read it, and then proceed to argue with me again about how they're right. Sigh, I'd rather keep those comments to myself. And again, back to self reflection, I realised throughout the years the "maturity" personality just wouldn't do. People love bimbos and himbos. No point taking myself so seriously, when no one will right?

3) One word. Work. It took out too much of my time that I will not make any comments on current events unless I've read up on all the articles relevant to it because I don't want to make bad judgments.

And one thing, I noticed that when Malaysians go on the internet, they want to relax and catch up on news. Two things will definitely sell: One, Relevant News, Two, the Funnies. So where does political opinion come in?

Err, way back in 2008 when it was relevant. With the new ways of communication, and when everyone wants to have a say, everything's saturated and indeed, no longer fun to read unless he or she is a politician relevant. No, I don't even read celebrities, or fake celebrities, they are the worst with spitting out irrelevant information that I don't care about.

So what does it leave me in the Internet arena? Back to doing what young people do best, fickle-minded people who think of food, getting drunk, in love with music or sex all the time. My work persona was for my boss to see, my friend persona for my friends, my Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr persona for different purposes of my Internet journey. No longer concentrating on just "blogging", I guess it's all a standstill. Until a time when I'm needed to put on my matured self on board again, I'm laying it to rest.

So sorry if you expected something like a commentary of a current issue since I'm now a journalist. I guess it's getting harder to even talk about it while being in the media itself.

Questions from my ignorance

Would it kill you to be a little less nosy?

Would it kill you if you know a little less about your country and more about your self?

Would it really be that serious if you care a little less about other people's efforts and concentrate on supporting your own?

Is it really such a big deal to keep studying when you can't even keep track of your daily life?

Why are you acting like there is necessity to forgo better chances for principles when you have so little money?

Pfft, are you serious? You act like this know-it-all, why don't you stop faking that and just do what you really like without a care of what the world thinks?

You like art, you dance with music like no business, you don't stick to one music genre, and you like skipping from one track to another, so? enjoy it la

Contributions are for the noble. You're not noble. You're this selfish little goon who wants to gain a little bit of name for the things you do. You're not noble at all.

Stop comparing. You're not them.

If you care less about the country, surely the country will still be functioning right?

Can you stop pretending like you have the ultimate tools of the trade when you barely even succeeded?

Can you also stop pretending like you can mingle around when you really hate human interactions and rather hide in that shell of yours?

Also, can you now go to freaking sleep? You don't have to stay up and be part of the world to show how much you've contributed.

*Disclaimer: No, don't answer these questions for me. It's my ignorance talking to me and it's been nagging for some time. Letting it out would probably allow me reflect and reposition how I should think. I've been caring about other people's feelings for too long, that my ignorance is telling me negative things. And yes, I do speak as if I'm talking to my other self. It's important to have these conversations before I turn truly cuckoo. Faking insanity is better than the real one.

Yea I think I should say something about 2011

Bottomline is : God did not give me my last 2 weeks of quietness in 2010. It gave me plenty of hells to deal with. But, fireworks was awesome.

Slowing dealing with them one by one. Nope, no longer on relationships. Something far worse.

Might open up Tumblr. But not losing my Blogspot roots, just that my sporadic random moments of quotes is something I want to express on a mini-blog than on a long Blogspot and not get limited to 140 characters aka Twitter. Plus the idea that no comments is allowed in my post? Totally awesome.

See you in the next round. Sorry, been really busy and not willing to comment on the thing that's worst than my break-up.

Toodles

So Help Me God

Christmas time is coming. Everyone's embarking on a blissful happy journey to welcome the end of the year, to reflect on its happenings, and be happy to receive many many presents for the next few days to come.

Dear God, I was really trying to be happy. I was trying and trying and it's so hard. Everytime a jingle comes, everytime when I see people happily buying presents, everytime I go on Facebook and I see yet another friend gets to take a break and go on a holiday, I began to hate myself.

Why is it so hard to put it down? Why of all the times it has to come and attack now? Is it because tis the season to be jolly, and everyone else is jolly, but me?

I've so many things to clean up not just in my life, but also in Facebook, removing pictures one by one after finding out that he's going on a rebound, appealing to others to do the same. I've only stopped at not cleaning up my own hard disk filled with so many things that contains our lives. If these are our memories, so be it. I'll keep it somewhere private where no one else can see it.

And then I looked at the comments I've gotten in those pictures. "The blissful couple", "The happy couple". Why the labels? I wished I could've removed them. It's no longer relevant now we're in this state of mind.

I wish I could stop. I wished I have more courage to deactivate my Facebook and lived my proper life without depending on that so-called social circle. What's the whole point? I've lost the whole point.

I've asked for a leave after some talk over it with my friend over lunch. She seemed to think that it's also incurable unless I go on somewhere to reflect. Now I see what's so appealing about going to travel somewhere out there, it's just to give myself a peace of mind that working can never achieve. I have yet to get a reply from the boss. I hope he understands that I need this.

I don't know if I want to continue having Facebook anymore. It's tough and stupid secondguessing who's at my side and who's at his. I kept thinking that plenty of them don't even see eye to eye with me anymore. I have no qualms about his best friend for being protective towards him, but I always second guess the others. It's bad for me to keep doing that, that I only find comfort in friends I know isn't affiliated to him.

I'm only asking for a way to feel happy, and not get bogged by the workload, and the pain, and feel irritated everytime I hear of a new information about him.

I want to go drink but my income's not sufficient enough to even go out. If I can't even survive, how can I even think of going to Bangsar to join some peers and have a few good drinks in a row without burning a severe hole in my pocket?

I haven't watch a movie for a damn long time and my only companion for movies used to be only him. I'm so busy I can't even make time for movies. What the fuck kind of excuse is that?

I've been trying to listen to the music both of us share and everytime it leaves me crumbling to tears. I've been trying to stand up and man up and each time I fucking falter and go back to who I was.

I'm confused and depressed and a little bit suicidal at times. Wanting to delete my Facebook, delete my life system, delete all the stupid decisions I've made that led me to this point.

Would it be better if I've chosen the internship instead of the community newspaper?

Would I have survived if I went with an environment filled with colleagues instead of just one person and his circle of friends?

Would I have thought of breaking up if these things never happened and I've waited patiently for him to produce his results?

Negative rut? Of course I'm stuck in a negative rut! I've never got a proper chance to pamper myself ever since the break up and all I do is work work work work work!!

I have no shoulder to cry on because my whole family is in a state of devastation as I am with my grandmother's problem! I have no emotional reliance on anyone because I felt betrayed as a human being. Trust? Who am I to trust? Who am I to refer to?

Forget about being strong or tough. I've lost all that capability to heal, but I can't even feel like a proper person anymore.

So help me God. Help this child to remember the reason why she should be alive and well. Help her feel wanted and that she has contributed. Help her, help me.

I'm thankful for the couple of friends I have, but I realised they have their lives to live. I can't bug them for Christmas. They have somewhere to return to.

I go out and it's something negative. I go back home and it's something negative as well. Tell me, was I supposed to be happy my grandmother's like this and we are the ones taking care of her?

Consider this. The fact that I have only giving out minor bursts to people is already a miracle of its own. I'd expected something bigger. I've been hiding my feelings from so many people. Some people suggested that I should be honest with those I'm working with. But I also say, would I bother telling somebody who doesn't give priorities to them?

If I have a Christmas wish, it'll be this. That I can get through my last 2 weeks of 2010 having resolved all problems inside my heart, that I could reach an agreement with my friends when it comes to prioritising between me and him, that I can finally let go.

So, help me, God.

Let it Out

Until recently, I've only been hearing songs that are only relevant to me. Only something that I'd like. It was a very precious and awesome "me" time.

But then, I realised I can't escape forever, I still need to go back to those times when we shared the same interest for some songs. Plus, they were really good songs, plentiful of meanings.

So I did. And true enough, my fears came true. Every verse sung out, every tune played, the flow of good memories came back.

I kept playing the song. The memories of us laughing as we sit down in your house, watching the latest anime episode, the way I snuggled on your shoulder, the way I sometimes just climb over and sat down on your lap and you secured me with the bestest teddy bear hugs, it all came back.

I was genuinely happy. I can safely say that. I was genuinely happy. Happy that I was with you, happy for that blissful life, happy, because it was one of the nicest things that happened to me because it was so simple. It was our world.

It was crazy of me to venture out into the bad bad world alone, now as I faced another doubtful road in my life, I realised I have no one to look back to. It's okay to see I have people in front of me, smiling as they tried to pull me into the adult world. All monitoring and observing me as I walk like a baby, occasionally tumble and fall, they were all there ready to catch me, and let me try again.

But if only, if only, when I look back and I realised if I do fall back, no one will be there to help and support me. Why? All expected me from the front, they did not expect me to fall back. The moment I do the roads will disintegrate and perhaps I'll fall further down the darkening abyss.

Same goes for what I expect from the relationship. I'd always thought I'll heal faster than everyone else because, I was different, I was stronger, I was way more matured.

But what happens, when I tried walking the exact same path I walked with you? I allow all the past memories and happiness came back to capture me, and realising that I walked alone, I cried.

But I have to, I have to continue listening to those songs we cherished so much, because they were good songs. The only difference is I have to learn to stop crying over it, and instead just smile. They were all good memories, I'm not going to break it.

I've also realised work is not the only way out. I can't be working forever to hide from my sadness, I can't be smiling forever. Sometimes I'd imagine, that while my smile is always sincere to others, I don't really allow anyone else to see who I really am, I'm still as mysterious, as unpredictable.

I think, if I can, present my resignation. Repay the car debts to my mother, and then go embark on a restful journey.

Goodbye November; Hello December

A terrible month has ended. Thank goodness for me.

Despite November being my birthday month, I have nevertheless felt like I'm in the worst state of mind when it comes to handling relationships, friendships, career, and family.

Firstly, my career was at a lost, I'm completely lost. I've lost all my objectives on being and staying there. Everything I did was just to justify my very own existence. Why not? When all my ideal thoughts are taken away from me, when I grovel to seek and find what my purposes are in this world full of complexities.

My boss always try to look at the simplest aspects of life but yet, taught me ways to not forgot the world's complexities. I'm still trying to grab that concept and mold it into my principles. Much as I admire his stand and the way he sees things, I don't agree to everything he stands for, and that's fine between the both of us. In some ways, I should be scared if I don't feel some resistance towards what he stands for in things. Again, I'm still learning, so I'm taking it with a pinch of salt.

Secondly, relationships. I guess it pretty much ended the way I intend it to: no bitterness, no long term heartaches, no resentment, no disastrous aftermath. I guess I pretty much made it clear to him that this is what I want, and so far, we have yet to make things sour. We just left the bond there; perhaps when one of us got the courage to pick it up to see each other, we will. Otherwise, I'm pretty satisfied that my intention was made clear and we had a mutual understanding. Of course, there was a short while where the heartache was made piercingly, and I spent 2 nights crying over it. But thanks to a bunch of friends, I've pulled it through, and continued my life. That is until the third thing happened.

Yea, the dreaded Third, my family. I found my grandmother with a bloated tummy one morning after a frustrating run to the TM store only to find out that the promotion I needed has ended. Feeling a lot of strain after that when my mother called to make me work. I have my own workload but I have to compromise. And then finally, broke down again. I've never felt so scared in my life ever since my grandfather's incident and when I had to go into the ambulance for the second time, I felt so emotionally strained.

For the first time, I did what I've always intended to do: go overnight somewhere, anywhere, but not in the house. And I've never felt better after that. Okay, maybe feeling better is the wrong answer, but I've felt calmer and more ready to take on challenges. Therefore there wasn't any stress other than family stress at this moment that makes me feel this way. Working somehow has become my avenue to release tension as I run around for news.

Fourth, Friends. Never in these darkest moments that I know I've kept that few good friends. They were really supportive and attentive to what I have to say, and did not discard my issues easily. I find comfort knowing that I have gone through their thicks and thins, and now they are now helping me go through mine. Honestly, without the support of friends, this month of November would be hell to go through.

Finally, my resolution in December: Do what I like to do, concentrate on rearranging my life so that it's back to the way I like it, enjoy the everchanging process, as 2010 is nearing its end and looking at 2011 over the horizon, I must say it's pretty good to soar through my end of the year with a big bang.

So Goodbye November, Good Riddance too. And Hello December, Please Don't Disappoint Me.

Cheers!

Bloodshot

To be honest, I looked like a mess on my birthday.

I had a drink with my employer. He knew I was feeling pain from the breakup, and crazily offered one bottle of vodka. I tell you, vodka should always be drank cold, but we were in a hotel with the basic necessities, and ice is not one of them. In case this sounds weirder further, my boss brought his teenage son along so there was no hanky panky involved.

I kept drinking that thinner-like vodka, thought to drown out what I've been feeling. We have a long chat about life, philosophies, experiences (more like his than mine), of course, he took the opportunity to teach me the lecherous men, men who pry on vulnerable women, women like me who just broke up, emotional, had no where to go.

"Never ever go to that stage," he said, as he let out another puff of smoke. I was falling into his "trap", first by being hesitant, then, under the influence of alcohol, slowly sitting on the bed, and finally just lying and hugging any pillow I find. What he said next, scared me to no end. All this while I've never thought men are capable of doing such things to me, mainly because, I'm not that attractive at all! But what he said jolted me awake, I was no longer drunk crazy. He woke me up. I was really hesitant to think of men like that, possibly because I was under the care of a very great guy for so long, I've forgotten men's real nature.

I'm not sure if that was meant to be philosophical, but oh, it did make me become more defensive towards men. What more when it's double confirmed by a friend I know who's goes socialising around, and confirms of such a species that prys on lonely, vulnerable women drinking. Of course I felt afraid, I don't believe what I've just heard, but of course, my bad, I've almost forgotten the evils certain men can do to a woman, therefore, that was a good wake up call.

Then, my stomach started to feel uncomfortable, at first, I thought I could hold it in, and continued talking, but then the discomfort became too great. I excused myself, quickly went to my room, and puked. All the dinner contents just came out. I was definitely pissed drunk to actually be at that state. I couldn't care how I smelt, all I know is, this is too uncomfortable, I need to puke it out.

And then I took a good look at myself. My face was pale, and my eyes were bloodshot. It was as if my blood's drained from my face and into my eyes. For the first time, I knew that I looked like a mess. I knew it wasn't worth it to reduce myself to that state because I've lost someone dear to me. If we do have fate, perhaps we can be together again. But until then, my life's my handling. Good vodka, pity I vomitted it out.

It ended with a "Happy Birthday" from the boss, plus a hug. I felt nice for a moment, and then remembered what he said, and pulled back lol. I ain't risking anything.

I puked twice after that, and ended up with a bleeding throat, as in, my phlegm came out bloody if I ever want to spit. Vodka really does nasty things to my inner organs. What a way to celebrate my 22nd Birthday. Good, crazy start.

The life of whether I choose to get laid or not hahaha. The life of possible meet-ups, possible mutual attractions, possible crazy sex, possible meeting another long term love, but mostly just career focused. Plus, the men I meet are all too old for me. Pfft, I've got my standards! I want young, good looking, ambitious fellas. Not old ones. I admit that they have their charms but a life with them is not in my list. My partner has to made me feel crazy about him even after a few decades together.

So yea, what a crazy birthday. I don't mind going through that again. Except, I'll chill the vodka the next time. Warm vodka is very lethal.

It's Official

I've broken up with Marc.

I've lost my confidante, my best friend, the first one to give me cuddles whenever I need one, the only one who stood by me for almost 4 years.

I've lost him.

I will now put my focus in my career, my life path.

Not interested in guys anytime soon.

I wouldn't have want it any other way

It does eat into me.

The separation was over and done with, I initiated it because I know I no longer harbour any new feelings of love, just plain complacency and comfort due to a very long relationship.

And now I've spent my days doing almost everything but achieving nothing in terms of social life. It's a painful process that I have to digest even if it means going through it alone.

I wished I knew how to stop the feeling when it started spreading in July, when I suddenly started becoming unsatisfied and whatever I do with him, it's just another process, just to make sure I feel secured and safe. But I know it is slowly not going to be.

Yet, it's hard to dispel or even throw him out. He was after all my confidante for almost four years. To see this bond dying inside it makes me really angry at myself.

Ever since Chiang Mai, everything changed. Everything I see about life changed. I got control over what I do and for the first time, I'm proud that I could do it.


It's selfish of me because I was that same person who surrendered her liberty in exchange for commitment to one of the best person I've ever had. We had so much in plan together, so much to look forward to, so much things we share in common and yet, here I am, telling him that we should start over, that we can't go on. My goals changed over the years and his changed too.

We're now doing what we want but how we got there costs us this precious relationship. In a way, I can't live like this with him anymore and therefore I opted out.

Obviously my love was lost ever since July and I can never bring it back again. But I wouldn't have want it any other way. If time reversed back to the day I've decided to be with him at 18 years old, I would, I really would have do it, and I would've also tried to figure out why I do this by July.

But it's all too late, too late to tell and figure out the dents and the cracks. I no longer want to fix it. I just want to let it go.

But it's hard. It's so hard.

The Mild Challenge, Plus the "Of Course....But" mentality

I haven't curse for a damn damn damn long time. Fucking sucks. Whew, finally let that out of my chest.

I admit to one thing, which is, working life has made me so much milder. I don't know who I can insult and who I can't, I don't know what to expect, and all I have been listening to are old people tell me what can I do bla bla bla....Sometimes it's sickening, but you have to put up that really subtle smile to show that you're listening.

To be honest I'm intrigued to take up the challenge my boss just issued to me. But wow, it is tough. Engaging corporates? Eeek. It's intimidating. Plus, I hate those buggers.

This is my "Of course...But" mentality playing inside my head. It is intimidating to be, at this young and raw stage, to engage such high profile people. But yet, if you want people to take you seriously, is this what I have to do?

Not to mention I haven't settle the many things occuring in my life, my family, my dread of staying in this place....I need to move out and yet I have no idea, no direction. Oh, and my love life is at a standstill as well. I'm no longer putting it as a priority. But even then, I don't know how to put career as priority. I'm still learning to adjust to that phase.

Strangest thing is that I've approached this company because I want to pursue another goal, but it became impossible to maintain both. I guess I did become jaded after awhile, especially since it's really hard to maintain both work. One pursues some national issue, the other focuses on everything on a grassroot level. I'm

And again, personal space and freedom becomes an issue. And it's a big issue for me. People have been telling me, "oh you must do this, do this, you don't have the money for it," then fuck you, you want to help me or just keep me downtrodden for the rest of my life? Nothing positive's coming out of their mouths, god damn it.

Not to mention that I don't have a business-mind in my head. I want to hone a position where I live comfortably and enjoy life. I have a phobia about advertisers and writing for them. I hate that concept, oh super-hate that concept. Approaching some business corporate, pitching to them on how they can advertise into the papers. Granted, I know where the boss' intentions go to, yet I fear, loathe and hate all these, these corporate bullshit.

I'm sure everyone else does not hate it, because that is what kept the papers alive, but sigh...I don't know why I hate/fear/loathe it aplenty. Must be the Vincent Tan effect.

Does this mean I have to pay attention to business news as well? Being able to tell the different advances in some corporate shit? Can't my life just be purely happy, and philosophical at best?

Or is this my inner naivete talking to me? Telling me I'm not ready.

Sometimes I wished I was an artist, leave the image consulting to some other bloke. You just focus on what you do now, leave me there, bursting headful of creavities on paper or canvas, or even into a song.

This is all so new to me. I don't like the direction I'm going.

Your sight range is not my sight range

It's easy to determine how you view a situation based on your personal experiences, by illuminating this disgusting act of telling it to everyone else so that it becomes a general stereotype.

But it's easy to understand why so, when personal experience overshadows the bigger perspective. I cannot agree more when my personal experience clouded the reality, or was it the other way around?

There was this debate on a blog about feeling the shame outside of the country because another foreigner had been laughing at the shameless act of bribery in the country; this country, in fact. He felt so bad he actually wish there was a hole to dig in.

It was an unusual story of course. Many foreigners I've met with were polite enough not to mention about the bribery act like it was a laughable thing, or in retrospect, the foreigners I met were sympathetic and understanding enough to know bribery is not an act exclusively happening in Third World countries. I posted the same blog post up on Facebook to share, hoping to see the debates and I posted some of my arguments.

I've had people who, ranged from having the same shameful feeling, to feeling outraged at the foreigner's outlandish comments in a very sophisticated setting, to feeling that they are agreeing with the author, that this is a statement they should accept and then work from within.

Indeed, one even asked if this is worth fighting for.

I'm reproducing my full arguments here.

"I'm thinking really hard on how to reply these comment because while yes, I did think some of the African's statements are true (depending on when he was in Malaysia actually, because honestly I don't see the corruption rampage anymore since 2008), but I don't think the Malaysian should be subjected to that kind of embarrassment.

While the nation has made some past mistakes and has been a subject of laughter in the foreign world, as far as I'm concerned, if I was in his position, I would at least try to correct the man instead of feeling this embarrassment. Perhaps I'm naive enough to stand up to that statement because I've felt that Malaysia has changed, or perhaps working with the police force in many occasions allows me to have some personal bias that his statement of 'all cops are on the take' really cheeses me off. Not all cops are dirty, and vice versa. I don't believe in a country that is 'corruption free' and to label Malaysia as the only place to have such rampant activities depicts that the foreigner has a 'holier than thou' attitude.

Was it worth getting worked up on? Yes, I would say so. Very few Malaysians (who dares to call themselves Malaysians anyway) are in the international arena and if they start to agree with these generic images these foreigners have on Malaysia, then no one is going to see the change the Malaysians work from within. It's tough enough to conjure an image and these prejudices may just destroy it all. Like, what do people think of Taiwan?Many remember their Parliamentary fist fights, some call it democracy, some call it menace. That image sticks to you and you know it's hard to shake off. I'm pretty sure Thailand will have the Red Shirts Yellow Shirts image stuck in people's heads for many years after these incidences have passed.

It's not nationalism or patriotism. It's very hard for me to explain why I did have the burning feeling when I read that foreigner's comment, but I'm certainly not going to encourage this level of ignorance, knowing the law and purposely breaking it, only to laugh at it many years later at someone's face. If he was wrongfully caught for speeding, and he had to pay a bribe for it, sure, I'd feel embarassed because corruption was so bad a police would do anything to get his RM50's worth. But to a person who knew he was subjected to the law and he broke it for the fun of it? I think anyone should be pissed, not just Malaysians."

That was my argument and that was my hope. I wasn't even hoping that foreigners would see the "Malaysia is a multi-racial country living in the same place" kind of imagery bullshit. I even allowed myself to confess this personal bias that due to working with the community newspaper, police have been one of the few people I get in touch with, allowing me to see that they are not all that.

I was feeling bad for the guy for being persecuted like that in that kind of social setting. But seeing his reply I no longer feel so.

It turns out, his personal experience overshadows his general perception, he had to agree with what the foreigner said. He was caught by the traffic police and always for the reason to "bribe". That's how sad the country was, and still is, to him.

I can only conclude that his sight range is not my sight range because he's unfortunate enough to have been under what I've described in my argument to justify why was it worth fighting for. I'm fortunate enough not to be asked to commit bribery, that I'm in a place where we can change the mindset of Malaysians to start thinking like a community instead of "Corporate Malaysia", that though I'm still as hardcore about national issues I also know we're all fighting in smaller circles before the bigger picture can be brought down.

As for him? I'm not him, I'm not jaded yet. Here's my concluding words from Citizen Nades' twitter while he was in London:

"Met some misinformed msians who think they know abt msia sitting in london. They hv nothing good to say. Screw them"

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I'm too comfortable

with my life to even nag or complain about it.

Hrmmm....need a hobby....need a life....

Complacency is a sucky phase. Like, I can never step out of it, or I just couldn't afford to get out of it.

E.g: Moving out of the house at this moment, not an option

Why? Too young, too dangerous, too unreasonable

Staying comfortable won't help though. Stupid internet.

Ramble ramble ramble.

Yakkity

I miss my turbulent times. At least I make better poems and better blog entries. Now I'm just a big mush of boredom.

Bah