Budi Bahasa Budaya Kita

After three days of continuous and relentless study, it was finally time to sit for Highway and Traffic Engineering exam. Students headed to the exam room with a dead pan expression and unfocused eyes. We all looked like zombies, to be frank.

Upon entering the exam room, the Head Invigilator announced in a stern voice, "Group A, first two rows. The next two rows, Group B. And for the following 2 rows, Group C."

Not all Invigilators imposed seating arrangements but it was not uncommon, either. We headed to our designated seats, barely paying attention to what we were doing as our brains struggled to keep a firm grip on various formulae.

"You! What group are you?" came the Head Invigilator's voice. He wasn't talking to me so I tuned it out and focused on those formulae.

"Group B," came the reply. My subconscious registered it as Ros' voice. More talking ensued but I wanted subconscious' help to remember formulae thus blocked out the conversation. My mind, subconscious and all, deftly began piecing together the variables required for calculating Stopping Sight Distance.

"Hey, you!" Stopping Sight Distance dissolved from my mind's eye. "Which group are you?" the condescending tone was directed towards me. I was dimly aware that the question had been repeated a few times. I paused by the desk I was about to sit at.

"Group B," I answered, sure that I wasn't at the wrong row.

"Hmh," was all that Mr. Tyrannical Invigilator could say in reply. I was at the right row, of course. I swallowed the sarcastic retort before it jumped off my tongue. I didn't think Sir Stern would appreciate insolence and he might find reason to deny me the chance of taking the exam. I wasn't entirely sure he could do that but I wasn't about to take my chances, either.

Lord Grump barked more orders to other students as the entered the exam hall. Despite wanting to go over my formulae, I decided to direct my thoughts to our moody Invigilator instead. What exactly was his problem?

As other students blearily made their way to their seats, he assaulted them with questions and orders -- all in a condescending and, in my opinion, very rude tone. My sense of justice seethed with the knowledge that, inadvertently and without reason, Professor Stern-Eye Moody was publicly humiliating students by treating us like idiots who can neither understand nor comply to order.

After the exam, as the invigilators collected and counted our answer scripts, His Most Extreme Cantankerousness yelled for silence. He was heeded by no one.

ギルガメッシュ : MUSIC

I have liked Girugämesh for their uncanny ability to mix j-pop with j-rock for an altogether heavy rocking sound yet still distinctively mainstream enough for a maximum fanbase. And I am so in love with Satoshi's vocals. *sighs*

Naturally, I have waited in anticipation for their new album. I was a bit dismayed to find that they have experimented heavily with electronic elements in their album, MUSIC and my first impression of the outcome was not at all encouraging. But I really like Girugämesh and I wanted to continue liking them so I gave the album some more time to grow on me.

Come forty seven repeated spins later , I've managed to change my previous conclusion of "This album is an utter failure" to "This album is somewhat of a disappointment".

With the addition of the electronic samplings, most of the tracks sound too Linkin Park-ish to me. For example, the beginning of Break Down flung me right back to my high school days while I was hung up over Hybrid Theory. I mean, I used to really like Linkin Park, but that was the old days. Girugämesh is Girugämesh.

On the other hand, the track Asking Why is one that I simply cannot get over. The poor attempt at rapping is reminiscent of the more dodgy tracks of UVERworld. Takuya of UVERworld and Satoshi have two things in common; they're great singers but horrible rappers. And Satoshi is even worse than Takuya at rapping. Now that is something I would not have thought possible.

Fortunately, some of their experiments did turn out pretty well one such example being the track evolution. The voice samplings are odd in an interesting way, combined with the drum and bass beat resulting in a catchy and almost dance rythem.

The last track of the album, 縁enishi, was for me, the saving grace of the album. It was so typically Girugämesh that on normal terms I would have found it boring; but in this album where Girugämesh's sound was barely recognizable I was merely thankful that the band I have grown to like so much was still there.

Hopefully, Girugämesh's further experiments will turn out better.

And I still love Satoshi. So there.

Brilliant Eddie

Quoting Eddie Izzard from his Glorious tour. It roughly goes like this:

Potpurri is a very good invention. You take stuff that fell off of trees, put underarm deodorant on it and sell it to posh people. 50 Quid a jar.

You can't sell it to ordinary people. "Potpourri, 5 cents per sack!"

They won't buy it. "That stuff fell off of trees!"

See how stupid rich people are?

Life and Riches

Nowadays there are a lot of games that feature a fast forwarded version of real life -- such as The Simms. I've never been a fan of this game. I find it mundane. You get your person to eat, to study, to work out, to sleep when it can't take any more of eating and studying and working out, and when it has enough energy to eat and study and work out you put it on the job again. And so the cycle goes. Eat, go to work, take showers, eat some more, learn a skill, watch tv, eat some more, take another shower, oops getting tired, go to bed, wake up, eat, go to work…..My achievements are when my character gets promoted, or when I have earned enough money to buy something for my house. Its so boring. Cycles of mundane activities and rewarded with mundane achievements.

Again, I find myself contemplating Life and its Purpose.

I'll have to admit, The Simms does mirror daily life -- the one we're accustomed to believe that is worth achieving. Up until now, I did believe that is what I wanted. But now I'm not so sure. I get bored so easily with The Simms. What is to say I will not get bored of Life?

Why do I work so hard? To get promoted.
Why do I want to get promoted? So I have more money.
Why do I want more money? To buy things for my house.

Then, is the purpose of my Life to gradually fill a house with things?

Well, in real Life, that is not all there is to it. Of course, there are other things that we need money for. But the conclusion The Simms has led me to is somewhat relevant. We work so hard for things that will make us more comfortable while we work so hard. Isn't there a way to be happier without having to work so hard? Isn't there a way to be comfortable without so much things?

A trip to certain hypermarkets have reasserted my line of thought. After seeing a coffee cup which costs RM150 each, I'm baffled by the reason why people wish to get rich. Do they slave at their jobs just so that they can afford to buy an RM500 ashtray?

If perchance I become rich, I hereby swear that I'll find a better use for my money.

Curiosity Killed the Cat

I've done plenty of bafflingly stupid things out of curiosity before this. For instance, I've tasted dirt, grass, bougainvilleas, cat food, and a whole host of things which normal, sane people would choose not to put in their mouths. There was this one time where, instead of asking, I stuck my hand under a stream of boiling hot water to find out whether it was hot or not. All this happened when I was a little kid, but I've done some pretty idiotic stuff quite recently as well which, for obvious reasons, I shall choose not to divulge on the internet. Yes, I have never quite outgrown those lapses where I seem to be devoid of common sense, caught up in the wonder of my curious thoughts.

We learn from our mistakes. But there are plenty of mistakes that you do not have to make in order to know some things. For instance, a medical thermometer does not work on freshly baked muffins. You all knew that, right? And cats do not get along with birds. So if you thought that showing your pet bird to your cat would make your cat happy, well, you're probably right. Just not in the way that you imagined. It turns out that cats and birds don’t get along as friends. Cats eat birds, you see. I should have picked up that fact from watching Sylvester and Tweety.

As the wise Albus Dumbledore once said, "Curiosity is not a sin. But is should be exercised with caution….Yes, indeed…".

Now, if you're wondering whether you could use your 3G SIM card in a broadband modem to connect to the internet, you might exercise caution and check out the rates before trying anything, right? If not, you might end up with game soundtracks which cost you RM239.

Yes, curiosity killed the cat.

If I were a cat, I'd be very dead by now.

Bad Sun

So I got this idea in my head that I could get in touch with my exes and start over as friends. They're not bad people, I told myself. Let's take away the romantic agenda (which didn't work, obviously). We'd probably be better off as friends. We could be good friends -- best friends, even.

Some of you are probably laughing out loud by now. Some of you are probably rolling your eyes at my apparent lack of common sense. Yes, I can be naïve at times. This is one of those times. But I assure you that I never meant any harm. I was just sadly deluded.

So I got in touch with my ex from high school. I found him on Friendster. He was in a relationship. A pretty happy and stable one, judging from the PDA on his friendster profile. So I sent him a message. At first things went really well. He's an engineer now, so I could ask him academic related stuff and he'd get a kick out of acting all superior and knowing. I thought I owed that to his ego. Then things got out of hand. Suddenly, the girlfriend disappears. He starts calling me names like 'Manjaku', much to my distaste, and expecting me to report my every move to him 24/7. He obviously knows nothing about me if he's calling me stuff like that. But I swear I never treated him any differently from my other male friends. I'm rude and I swear quite often and I don't talk like a girl, especially in Tawau dialect. So my conclusion is that he's just a classic jerk who thinks I'm still 15 years old with a girly crush on him.

Right-o….So befriending High School X didn't work out….

I had also tried getting in touch with my ex from matriculation. I found him on Facebook. Things went pretty well with him. I could actually maintain a nice, friendly conversation with him. I thought that this is the way it should have been from the beginning, with us just being friends. So I apologized to him for breaking up with him. (Long story short, I knew we weren't suited for each other so I decided to end it then and there. Unfortunately, I did a bad job of explaining that to him). Yes, please laugh. Matriculation X never contacted me again after that. Be my guest, laugh some more. I'm guessing that he interpreted the apology as a desire to pick up the threads of our romantic relationship and carry on where we had left off. I don't blame him for running away from that.

By this time, I'm ready to roll around on the ground in embarrassment and annoyance at my stupidity and naivety. I was pretty close to doing so. Then Nena-nee kindly offered me this piece of advice : Exes are meant to be forgotten….

No, I am definitely not going to try and track down my ex from Penang -- I'll probably just traumatize him even more. I've learned my lesson.

Ankle-Deep Fast-Flowing Stream

This afternoon I had to go submit an assignment for Geotechniques. It was raining really hard, but the due date is today so I went anyway. Its a hilly area so when it rains the side of the roads have ankle-deep fast-flowing streams. I decided to wear flip flops because shoes would just get soaked.

On the way back, I had to cross one of those ankle-deep fast-flowing streams in order to cross the road. It was raining hard for a while now so the stream was quite wide. A truck was approaching and I quickly started off before my whole being got drenched in skid spray. One foot had to go in the stream because it was too wide to jump clean and the other stepped half submerged at the edges of the stream. I brought forward the foot that was in the stream -- but my slipper stayed behind, held down by the water pressure. Then it started drifting away. I took two steps after it, then my other slipper slipped off and drifted after the other one. I chased after it for about 5 paces then gave up and watched as both my slippers drifted away by the curb. The truck passed by, projecting the stream onto me, and honked its horn -- whether mockingly or sympathetically, I know not.

After my slippers drifted out of sight, I resigned myself to walking back barefoot and crossed the street. I got to the other side of the street and there stood 3 university guards by their post.

"Wheres your slippers?" one of them exclaimed, sincerely concerned. I guessed that they hadn't seen my heartbreaking drama in the ankle-deep fast-flowing stream. Another guard ran out of the post to see what was going on.

I couldn't help it, I laughed.

Finally, I managed to gain enough breath to tell them what happened and we all laughed, holding our stomachs in the pouring rain.

So I walked barefoot the rest of the way back to my dorm, just like old days when I was a child refusing to wear slippers while playing football on the dirt roads. Lots of people stared at my bare feet. They would have stared at my face as well, but I took care to angle my umbrella so that nobody could see it.

Believe

I just noticed that my blog entries are mostly complaints about one thing or another. This may or may not have earned me a reputation of being a cynic. Well, maybe I am a cynic to a certain degree. But one thing I am not and, God forbid, never want to be, is a sour pessimist. So, yeah, I'm a cynic. But I'm an optimistic cynic. Sounds impossible? Hehe.

One of my most firm beliefs is that things almost always work out themselves. Of course, nothing happens unless you strive for it. But when you've tried your best and still nothing worked, just have a little faith and soon the mess would straighten itself out.

Here are some examples:

Story 1
I started out this semester pretty darned pissed off with my elective courses. I wanted to take management courses but because of my "World Class University Program", I was denied that choice and ended up with two of the courses I hated the most -- Geotechniques and Structural Steel Design. Some three weeks later, I realized that my courses aren't so bad after all. Well, geotech is still a bitch. But Structural Steel Design is the best ever. I haven't cut this class at all (for me, that's a really big thing). And get this -- I'm even doing my Final Year Project on Structural Steel. So, the moral of the story : When life gives you lemon, make lemonade.

Story 2
I had a helluva time getting placement for Industrial Practice. I went all over -- Shah Alam, KL, Putrajaya, etc. I got lost on Jalan Lontar Lembing while looking for Jalan Badminton (turns out it was near Jalan Ragbi). I thought I'd have to get "auctioned off" to some obscure waste water establishment or something like that. But in the end, I got an offer from a consultancy established in KK, and they assigned my to their site in Tawau! Not only do I get placement, I get to go home to do it! Moral of the story : Just keep swimming...just keep swimming...just kee--....

Story 3
Its the end of the semester, exams are around the corner, its raining assignments but we have to get through tests and quizzes first. All this tension just makes me want to eat all the time. But you know what? I'm dead broke. All I had was 20 cents, that's how broke I was. Thankfully, I still have a healthy supply of instant noodles, oats and biscuits. So, I've resigned myself to surviving on my God-blessed rations. I'll admit, I was a tad bit bitter at first, but then I thought of all the children starving in third world countries. What am I being bitter for? I have instant noodles! I should be counting my blessings! As if a reward for my resolve, a friend suddenly remembered that she owed my money and paid up. It was a debt from the beginning of the semester and I had long since forgotten about it. But here it was, paid in full, just at a time when I really needed it. Moral of the story : Have faith in God.


Miracles happen all the time. You just have to learn how to recognize them.

Above and Below

We live Life only once. Life is short and brief. We must make the most of it. Everyone knows this. Not everyone acknowledges it. But it’s true all the same. No amount of chemicals, cloning, technology, medical healthcare, organic foods, face lifting, tai chi exercises, or meditating can halt the coming of Death.

Knowing that we will inevitably Die and leave Earth, what do we choose to do with this short, brief, and one-shot occasion we call Life?

The most common path we are brainwashed into believing is the best route is to spend one-third of Life bent over books to score in Exams, then spend the rest of what’s left of our lives desperately accumulating as much Wealth as possible, only to be forced to leave it all behind when Death unmercifully tears us away from the fruits of our labor.

Yet others spend the first portion of Life halfheartedly flipping through those books we are supposed to pore over, fall devastated when we don’t miraculously score in those All-Important-Exams, then step onto the nearest, most smooth Path we come across, dreaming of What-Ifs and Could-Have-Beens.

Another group of individuals dream a Life of Fame and Overexposure. To be known by as many people as possible seems to be the pinnacle of Success. To have privacy constantly intruded upon seems to be the highest sense of Achievement.

All these people will be taken by Death.

Is that all there is to Life? Living for Yourself, maybe occasionally helping those who lie across Your Path, feeling good about Your Charity, but not bothered if such an occurrence never happened.

Is that all there is to Life? A Life in which we measure success by wealth and popularity, by exams and grades, by power and influence.

Is that all there is to Life? A Life where kindness, reliability, and compassion are simply qualities instilled in order to score a partner. A Life where wealth and status are only a measurement for finding a good mate.

Everyone wants to gain as much as possible from Life before they have to face Death. Does anyone think of what they can give to Life?

Life may not be as simple as Goodwill and Making-A-Difference. Yet all these requirements we place on Life – Wealth, Grades, Status, Acquaintances – makes one wonder the true reason why there exists this thing called Life.

Aisatsu, Arigatou!

Dr. Sooi enters the classroom.

"Good morning, class," he greets us.

Only a few people mumble indistinct 'morning's in response. The rest of the class remains silent.

This has been the trend for the start of almost every class for the past 3 years of my university life. Some lecturers don't even bother with greetings anymore. They just get in and get cracking without so much as a hello.

It strikes me as such a far cry from our chorused "Selamat Pagi, Cikgu!" from our school days. No, I don't expect university students to stand up and shout "Good morning, Teacher!" in a singsong voice at the start of every class. But I would have thought that we could at least spare our lecturers the courtesy of replying to their greeting. It's a shame to say that the routine which we have repeated day after day for at least 11 years has made almost no infuence whatsoever to our adult lives.

Yet all hope is not lost. There are still a handful who feel the need to thank the lecturer after every class albeit unchorused and uttered personally as they pass by to leave the room.

This reminds me of the students in UiTM Penang. Like most universities, UiTM Penang provides buses to transport students to and from certain places. This service is free of charge and drivers are specifically employed to drive these buses. Although the drivers are clearly just doing their job, most of the students make it a point to thank the drivers when they get off the bus. This is an example of courtesy in it's finest. The students aren't required to thank the drivers, but they do. The drivers don't need to welcome the students, but they do.

And at times when I shake my head and sigh at the indifference of the people around me, I'm glad that I can think of the students of UiTM Penang with a smile.

Inanimate Gender

Something my Mom forwarded to me. Thought I'd share.

TIRES: Tires are male, because they go bald easily and are often over inflated

HOT AIR BALLOONS: Also a male object, because to get them to go anywhere, you have to light a fire under their butt.

SPONGES: These are female, because they are soft, squeezable and retain water.

WEB PAGES: Female, because they're constantly being looked at and frequently getting hit on.

TRAINS: Definitely male, because they always use the same old lines for picking up people.

EGG TIMERS: Egg timers are female because, over time, all the weight shifts to the bottom.

HAMMERS: Male, because in the last 5000 years, they've hardly changed at all, and are occasionally handy to have around.

THE REMOTE CONTROL: Female. Ha! You probably thought it would be male, but consider this: It easily gives a man pleasure, he'd be lost without it, and while he doesn't always know which buttons to push, he just keeps trying.

Boys Don't Cry

Men are from Mars. Mars is the Roman god of War. I don't think Men, as a rule, must be violent and full of bloodlust. But I do think that it should take a lot to reduce a Man to tears.

My father -- rock steady and solidly grounded. I've seen him outright angry. I've seen him excitedly happy. I've seen him valiantly masking his disappointment and fears. But only once have I seen him cry. He didn't cry when his father died. He didn't cry when we were so scarce of money we wondered how our family would survive. Only once in my whole lifetime -- long or short depends on one's perspective. Only once did my father succumb to tears and that was during a time my mother was so sick that she stopped breathing for a while.

To see a Man such as my father commit an act so innocent and common among their female counterparts -- too see any Man cry -- is for me, something entirely disturbing. It shakes the foundations of the ideology I have held on to ever since the time when I could understand the differences between males and females -- Man is stronger than Woman. Not necessarily better, not necessarily smarter. Simply that the extra Y in their chromosomes enable them greater physical strength and a higher resistance to tears.

So when my mother stopped breathing and my father's tears came, I felt like it was the end of the world. The unmovable mountain of dependability that my father represented had come crashing down with one drop of that saline seepage. Every worst case scenario I could imagine seemed about to come true.

Seeing my father's tears, something hardened in me. I took care of everything while my father took my mother to the hospital, all the while not producing a single tear myself. I would have taken care of everything even if my father had not cried but I would have sobbed and sniffled all the way. Deprived of my tears, I don't know how I looked while I comforted the youngest ones, Yusof and Betty Jane, and put them to bed. I wonder if I managed to put on the front that had crumbled on my father's facade. I hope I did.

My father hasn't shed one single tear since. I don't blame him for his moment of weakness. He remains that dependable mountain that shields this Daddy's Girl from everything undesirable. I hope I don't ever have to lose that mountain again. It is so scary when a Man cries. As a female, I can take up the reigns if a Man relinquishes his hold on them. I can even survive quite fine without a Man to take care of my life. But having a Man in front of me break down and cry....It will happen again, inevitably. I just hope I'll be prepared for that when it comes.

World Class University

I attend a "World Class University". Let me give you an insight on what that means.

There are too many students, too few lecturers. The optimum student to lecturer is 30:1. Classes often have up to 32~35 students. A bit too crowded. This is "World Class". The world is becoming overpopulated. Too many people, too little land, too few jobs, too many, too few...Just like my university.

Wireless connection is sluggish and flickers in and out of existence. Might as well have no wireless at all since we can't use it anyway. Most of the world does not have wireless connection anyway.

Roads are congested and pedestrians have difficulty crossing the roads. Most motorists care only about getting to their destination. The lack of a proper pedestrian crossing couple with the reluctance of motorists to stop or slow down and give way to pedestrians result in a fearful escapade of 'dodge the vehicle' each time one wishes to get to the other side of the road.

The classroom floors are garbage strewn. Despite the fact that most students are above 20 years old, they still to seem to not know the function of a garbage can aka rubbish bin. Which would be the case for the rest of the world as well. There is a reason why Singapore imposes such heavy fines for littering -- it's because most people just don't care enough to give a thought to where they put their trash. The fines provide that reason to care.

Being "World Class" doesn't necessarily mean a good thing.

An Immigrant's Patriotism

What do you do when you do not want to be ruled by others? Why, you become the master of yourself.

What do you do when you do not like the way others do something? Why, you do it yourself.

What do you do when you see an unbearable wrong? Why, you set it right.

That is my goal as a Malaysian. When I am old enough and wise enough, I shall be a politician. Yet here lies the conundrum in, not only Malaysian politics but, politics as a propensity anywhere in the world: How does an individiual force seek to go against the stubborn old ways, even if it is for the benefit of us all? How does one break the ranks of those selfishly holding the power and might of money, and not afraid to use it?

You see, I am a girl and there is nothing I can do about it. It's not wrong, of course, but I can't change it either. I can vote now but I don't see any existing party that has rightfully deserved my vote. I have my education thanks to the Malaysian taxpayers' money and I intend to repay them. But how? There is something integrally wrong with the current government. The oppositon is made up of a bunch of fools who think they are clever with catchy namecalling and wavering manifestos. I do not want to vote for any of these people. So what should I do? What should any person who loves their home do?

The answer is simple. Follow Dr. Mahathir's footsteps. Use kindness, compassion, and knowledge as empowerment instead of money. Seek power, not for selfish reasons, but for the good of the people as a whole. Dr. Mahathir climbed his way to the top of Malaysian democracy that way so there is no saying that I can't do at least something in the same manner. That is what I want to be, and will be, Allah willing.

No need to post pleading comments at chedet.co.cc asking for Dr. Mahathir to come back, to do something, to magically whip out a wondorous solution for all of Malaysia's problems. That isn't fair to him. He has served Malaysia well and deserves his rest. Now it is our turn to do something for our country. We need to stop growing fat and complacent on subsidies and hak istimewa. Read, for crying out loud. Do something other than complain or despair.

Understanding the Inevitable

I'm trying to make up my mind about which subject is more boring: Ethnic Relations or Geotechniques.

I had Ethnic Relations two semesters ago. I live in Malaysia where multiculturalism goes hand in hand with daily life and politics. Therefore, I understand the logic in creating a course that studies inter-ethnic relations. However, what was being presented in class was not as much ethnic understanding as it was government propaganda on the justification of 'Hak Istimewa Orang Melayu' (since it so clearly say so in the Perlembagaan...). Needless to say, I learned next to nothing except gained a better conviction of the idiocy of the individuals responsible for the definitions of race, ethnic, and other useless labels as stated in our textbooks.

On the other hand, theres Geotechniques. Last semester's Geotechniques course content consisted of mainly calculations, which was bearable to a certain extent. This semester is mainly theory. Firstly, I don't understand the logic in making us learn calculations before theory. To me, it makes more sense if we had an idea of why we were calculating whatever we were calculating. Anyway, theoretical Geotechniques is a bitch -- endless explanations about dirt, rocks, and walls. Our class had the (good?) fortune to be taught by arguably the most good-looking lecturer in the faculty. Sadly, his exceptional attractiveness doesn't make up for the unbearable boringness of Geotechniques. Consequently, every Geotechniques class is a daydreaming event filled with fantasies of hostile alien life forms attacking the class (sometimes featuring me leaping to the rescue) or other violent and action-packed phantasms as only in a Geotechniques class.

So, I belive I've got my answer. Definitely Geotechniques is more boring. The conclusion is, daydreams' level of ridiculousness is directly proportional to the class' level of boringness.

-The End-

Ambidextrous

"Hello,” I say. I hold out my hand. Ali does not take it. He only stares. His smile falters slightly. He looks puzzled. I wonder why.

“You shake hands with your right,” Ali points out. He extends his right hand. I take it.I don’t understand the difference.

Ali asks the time. I hold up my left wrist. My watch is there. I tell him the time. Ali looks puzzled. I can only ask why.

Ali holds up his right wrist. I see his watch. He fixes the time.

“Everyone here wears it like this,” he says.

Ali is boring. He keeps telling me I do things wrong. I am tired of that. So, I go away. I go somewhere else.

I see Sally. Sally is coloring. That looks fun. I go join Sally. I pick up a pencil. Coloring is fun.

“Weird!” Sally exclaims. I look around. Nothing is weird. I look at Sally. She looks at my hand. My hand holds the pencil. It is my right hand.

Sally holds up her pencil. Sally’s pencil is in her left hand. I move my pencil. Now I use my left hand. I do not understand the difference. Coloring is fun.

Ali comes by. He wants to join. He looks at our pencils.“Left hand!” he exclaims. Ali uses his right hand.

Now I am angry. I pick up another pencil. I color with my left hand. I color with my right hand. I color with both. Coloring is fun.

“Left hand!” says Ali.

“Right hand!” says Sally.

“Weird!” say both.

I ignore them. I do not care. I want to color. Maybe I should use my feet. I ponder that thought. Just to be really different.

Defying Gravity

It’s nostalgic, this feeling – giddy like an angau-stricken teenager. It’s annoying yet somehow refreshing. I was beginning to think I’ve lost all ability to be attracted to anyone.

So, I think about Someone a lot. More than normal, in fact. My heart acts like a trapped butterfly inside a (rib)cage each time my SMS alert goes off. Silly me, can I be hoping that Someone texted me? That’s ridiculous.

I’m Notoriously Single. I don’t want to lose that title now, do I? I’d like to be known for something.

But at the end of the day, I find myself wondering senseless and dangerous thoughts such as Did Someone think of me at all today? Or I wonder what Someone is doing now.

Shoo. Shoo. Go away, Bad Thoughts.

I reach for my phone. It’s just a passing fancy. I’m just killing time, really. I’m in control of my feelings. I’m an adult. I can get out of this any time I want, no problem.

Put the phone down! That’s dangerous! Bad Idea! Bad!

Yet still, those thoughts I try hardest to suppress come creeping back like a cat at a dinner table. To my horror, I find myself contemplating the ‘L-word’ – taboo in my dictionary.

I suppress the urge to violently ram my head against the wall. A migraine might keep my mind off Someone, but migraines are no fun. Trust me.

I don’t know the first thing about how Someone’s mind works, nor thought process, nor tendencies. I know only superficial things. Inconsequential things.

Impossible.

I blame my temporary insanity on the racing pulse and unstable hormones due to a swollen thyroid gland.

Eureka!

Now, I can sleep.

Its a Free World but are we Free?

Freedom is such a boastful word. A Utopian concept -- idealistic and far removed from reality. In truth, the definition of Freedom as we know it is not more than a lie to fuel the imagination of the Oppressed, kindle Hope in the minds of the Lost, and confound those who thought they have reached it.

Can anyone really be Free? Can we be devoid of Rules, Regulations and Obligations? Is it possible to be so Independent as not to rely on anyone, anything, at all? These are a lot of questions to be answered and I am not sure whether I am capable of providing them.

I'll use myself as an example. I have named this blog 'Jiyuu' -- the Japanese word for 'Freedom'. Supposedly, its a representation of my Freedom of Thought; that I am Free to discuss or reveal anything I want here. However, when it comes to exposing something of potentially personal value, my fingers hesitate. I find myself avoiding topics which might reveal too much of myself or instead, using allegory to skirt around it. What then becomes of my so-called Freedom? In the end, I Oppress myself. I am not free of my past betrayals hence the armour around my heart serves as much as a prison as it is a defence. Despite a chance of 'Freedom' offered, a path of restriction and guard is what I choose. What then of my Freedom?

High schoolers often complain of the many seemingly-endless Rules imposed on them. Uniforms must be worn, we must do what our Elders say, hair must be cut short and not colored...and a plethora of other ridiculous Rules designed to restrict our Freedom in every possible way. Ah, the day when I shall be Free of School and Rules!!! I am now Free of School but I find I am not Free of its Rules. Even though there is no longer any Penalty or Punishment if I Disobey the Rules, there are many that I still Obediently Follow. You must go to School to be a Good Person. People with low Formal Education are Inferior. Men must be Leaders and are Superior to Women (I am a believer of this although I cannot justify it).

Even if human beings are let to live with the prospect of being Free, we always find Rules, Codes, Ethics, or Routines that we Impose on ourselves and Follow. Where then, do we get the idea of Freedom? Free as a Bird, they say, but even Birds must have their own Rules that they Follow. Fly in formation, the Early Bird catches the Worm, Poison Ivy makes Bad nest material.

Perhaps the idea of Freedom was thought up by some Air Headed Idiot who did not Think-things-through. Other Idiots thought that the Idea seemed Beautiful and quickly Latched On -- Taunting others with it, yet Forever Searching themselves.

I named my blog 'Jiyuu'. Perhaps I am One-of-those-Idiots.

Small talk

I'm in West Malaysia most of the year so I only get to go back to my hometown Tawau during term break. When you haven't seen people in a long time, it gets harder to maintain conversation. Most of the time you find yourself saying the same things and repeating yourself. Now that's no fun.

One of the comments that I get often is 'Besarnya suda kau!' (you've gotten so big). Mostly from not-so-close family members. It's a lie, of course. I'm 21 years old. I haven't grown an inch in 2 years. I haven't gained 2 kilos in 5 years. There's no way no how I could have gotten any bigger since the last time they saw me.

I put up with it because they probably can't think of anything else to say. Its just a formality. Maybe its tradition as well. Pretty soon it'd be expected of me to say the same lines to they're children. Hmm...I just might. I'm not good with small talk either.

Even with Nena-nee there are recurring topics in our catch-up conversations. Some of them are:

• We're both crazy
• Amanda is still single
• Persidangan Bulan Lima: The Nightmare Bitch

In this case, I don't mind the small talk. Its a break from some of the stress. However, there's a lot of other types of Small Talk that really gets on my nerve. Take the following examples:

• Suda makan ka? (Have you eaten?) - The hell you asking me that for? If I'm hungry, I'll eat. And if I don't, what are you going to do? Force feed me or something? Something as trivial as that, you might as well ask whether or not I've bathed today.
• What are you doing? - This question may be relevant in some instances. On the other hand, when what I'm doing is plain as day obvious, I don't appreciate the disruption in my concentration.
• West Malaysian Idiot: Where are you from?/Me: I'm from Sabah/West Malaysian Idiot: Oh, did you get here by plane then? - I'm not even going to comment on this one.

In conclusion, please think before you open your mouth to say something.....

What is love?

And there are so many different answers to that…

I’ll tell you what love is NOT. Love is NOT:

# as in the Hindustani movies…those are pure lies and overdramaticized fiction…come on la…

# love at 1st sight. That, in truth, is LUST.

# ‘Chemistry’, Intense and explosive. Anyone who has learned chemistry can tell you that the most intense and explosive reactions are unstable and short-lived, and take up a lot of energy.

Love is something created by poets and playwrites. Soulmates are idealized beings, believed in by people in order to make an excuse for their failure to make a relationship work.

Ever wonder why the divorce rate in the ‘olden days’ was never that high? Its because when people got married, they resigned themselves to living with that one and the same person for the rest of their lives and in the end, spending their thoughts, energy in time into making things work with each other. Today however, people divorce on the basis of ‘not in love anymore’. They spend their time explaining (making excuses) about why they can’t live together, instead of trying to fix things. Then set off trying to find "The One"…Good luck with that.

So, what is love? It is when two people can live with each other, can tolerate their behavior, trust and understand. Its not a matter of destiny or DNA, its an act of cooperation and symbiosis.