rant sack

I Journeyed into Myself

2025-10-07T23:07:00.003+08:00

I journeyed into myself, and I found the meaning of life. It started one night when someone offered me a ticket to what he claimed as 'one of the wildest rides of my life'. I took it after making him promise that he will always be there when I got lost.

It was like a rainbow fizz, only it didn't look like rainbows and wasn't fizzy. Or so I thought.

The first hour was uneventful. Everything moved along as usual. There was maybe a slight lift, but nothing as extraordinary as advertised.

"Maybe you need an extra jolt," he claimed. And we did just that.

About a half hour later, things started to happen. Everything started melting and warping around me. Straight lines were swirling. Faces filled with colors and were losing cohesion. Smiles got wider than I was comfortable with. But I kept reminding myself that this was the beginning of my journey into myself.

"Approach with curiosity, not resistance" I reminded myself, then dove deep into the music. As I closed my eyes, rainbow-coloured wavelengths danced all over me. Little bubbles floated around, each bordered by zapping neon streaks. There was an entire universe behind my eyelids.

He walked up to me and asked if it had begun. I said "yes. I could see the wavelengths of the music playing now." He laughed and called me overly dramatic. I didn't bother proving myself, because I know what I was looking at, and it was absolutely marvellous.

I opened my eyes and started interacting with others. I saw that neon wavelengths lined the curves of their faces and shoulders and arms. That got me to wonder if everything is made of wavelengths. Vibrations. Frequencies.

I closed my eyes again to enjoy the music, but this time I was brought to another place. A hyper-speed rewind was happening. From where I was, to the earlier days of humankind, to the land before time, to space, to darkness between planets and asteroids and comets and suns and moons, to....

A big explosion. Was that the big bang? Why was it called a BANG? Was it a representation of the first chord that was struck that created everything? A single droplet that hit an ocean of consciousness that birthed a ripple that expanded into infinity?

But wait. Did I really see the beginning of creation itself? Was it something I created from my understanding of everything? Or was this something everyone sees during this kind of journey into themselves?

If the third was the case, then was Georges Lemaître on the same journey that led him to 'discover' the Big Bang theory? Was he a fraud?

After what felt like an eternity exploring the connection between wavelengths and the birth of the cosmos, I decided I had to start interacting with people. But they somehow looked different now. Not the melting and neon faces like before. There was more. One person had a Prima Donna stature in him. I knew most of the people there, but not very well. This person's real face both looked and did not look like what I'm staring at right now. There was more to his appearance. It was as if I was looking at his persona, the real face behind the physical face.

Another came to me and started telling me about his experiences in these gatherings. I also overheard him sharing a story of his first time in a similar gathering. Plastered on his face was another persona, someone more caring and helpful. The Caretaker. He liked taking care of newbies and introducing them to other people, so they don't feel so awkward. There's another one of this person in another group of mine.

These personas I am seeing on the faces of people I know. They are showing me something I know but can't quite put my finger on. So I decided to take a seat at the corner of the room and examine everyone else.

I saw a person who liked cracking jokes all the time. He may not know it but he had the ability to calm any stressful conversation by using himself as a joke. The Wise Fool who sees more but pretends not to.

Then I noticed the person who hosted this evening's gathering. He was also the one who brought me on this ride. I could see what drives him: recognition. I mean, everyone wants recognition, but he wants to be the enabler for important events. He wants to be the one with the deeper pocket, the most resources, the one everyone reaches out to for support. I could almost see the shiny gold-waved cloak draped over his shoulders as he walked past me. The Ambitious.

He was also, evidently, The Elder. The person who knows the way of the land, and was my counsel and oracle during this journey.

All that observation led me to question my own persona. What am I? I was... the Leader. The person who knows how every piece of the puzzle fits into the bigger picture. The person who puts everything and everyone together into a giant well-oiled machine. I realised that as a leader, I did many things wrong during my 8 years as the head coach of the dragon boat team. I tried to be everything to everyone and have answers to every problem.

I knew now that it was the wrong approach. As the leader, I didn't need to have all the answers. I only needed to know who has answers to a specific area, and make everyone else support and work towards that.

It was during this time when I was caught by someone to dance with a small group in a circle. I felt the movement of energy flowing between all the members in this little revel. Someone was leading the flow, and others are following. If there was another person trying to lead, the energy flow will be thrown off balance. In order to maintain that balance, others must either follow that lead, or subtly introduce a better sync with the music that everyone else can agree with.

My job, was to support whoever I thought had the best idea at the time. I didn't need to have the answers. I only needed to support the one who did. That was my job as a leader.

My mind was taken away back into the cosmic realm. Every star, planet, moon, electron, neutron, and proton spinning and spiralling in perfect balance. Every birth is met with maintenance, decline, death, and rebirth. The pristine equilibrium that holds everything in this universe together.

This group has a Clown, a Healer, an Ambition-driven, a Dreamer, a Prime Donna, and every other persona in between. Perfect balance.

I realised then why I was always so alone and lonely, without any close friends who see me as an equal. The leader doesn't have many peers. He walks the land alone, often misunderstood for his actions. Because most do not see the burden he carries with every unpopular decision made.

But two people can see him for who he is. First is the one he often consults with. The Elder, who has walked this land and seen the future.

The second, is his Anchor. The one person who can stand next to him as an equal. Sometimes his totem that prevents him from being lost in the most chaotic worlds. When that realisation came to me, only one person's face appeared in my mind: him. I knew then that he was the one. Everyone else can only satisfy my curiosity and excitement. But he is who I will always return to. My Anchor, the eye of the storm, stabiliser of the tempestuous protagonist.

I knew at that point that he's the one. THE ONE. My partner in crime. I just had to extend my patience and allow him enough time to face his demons and shadows, so we can have a healthy relationship when it begins.

With these two, I can take on the most perilous journeys without losing my way.

Wait...

The Prima Donna: Brutus, Hamlet, King Lear, Prospero.

The Wise Fool: Feste, Falstaff, Touchstone, The Fool.

The Ambitious: Macbeth, Julius Caesar, Richard III

The Healer: Hermione, Portia

The Leader: Henry V, King Lear, Coriolanus, Prospero.

These are all names of characters in the most famous Shakespearean works. Did he create all these from his observations of the world, or did he also take the same journey as I did now?

As I slowly land from the 4-hour journey, I return with many answers and even more questions. If I could, in one night, see the same things the smartest minds in humanity created hundreds of years ago, were they all frauds? Did all scientific theories come out of psychedelics? Was I seeing the truth of the world and universe right now? Or was it just madness masked as awakening?

Was he really my anchor? Or was it something I wished he could be?

At the end of the journey, I felt so exhausted, like I've used up more of my brain capacity than usual. But I took away so much valuable thoughts that until today, 3 weeks after, I'm still unpacking.

I journeyed into myself one night, and I found so much secrets to the universe and my inner purpose. But those were all just visions. What I do with them is the real journey.

I Found Me

2025-10-05T21:20:00.006+08:00

10 months ago I found myself. Not in the same way as discovering my life purpose, but in the same way as being in a multiverse.

The me born in another city. The me raised by a functional family. The me who completed his university studies. The me who got a proper job. The me who manages to live the life of my dreams.

But he is still me. The me who struggled with many things in life, including holding a proper relationship. The me who beats himself up for not being good enough. The me who's afraid of hurting others so he'd rather deprive himself of the best he deserves.

From the moment we met, there was a strong sense of familiarity, safety, comfort. It was like I knew him for years. But there was more. I knew what he was thinking. He knew what I was thinking. We didn't talk much on our outings because we didn't need to say much. His eyes and expressions spoke to me.

I remembered a part of Sophie's World that talked about the most profound 'Strange Encounter'. It's not one where we meet an alien, but one where we meet ourselves. I remember recalling that feeling of seeing myself in him. It was as if I was looking into a mirror.

Over the weeks, I realised he started maintaining a distance from me. His initial warmth was replaced with controlled nonchalance. This confused me. I thought I knew him, but I thought I didn't really know him. Questions raced through my mind for days and weeks. Was I grasping for feelings that weren't there at all? Was I blinded by a sudden emotional surge? How could I be so careless to allow myself to be swept away like this? I knew better.

A quick research led me to this term. The Twin Flame. A sudden sense of familiarity, like you've known each other for a long time. Both people have so many things in common, it feels like they're destined to be together. But most articles and videos spoke of Twin Flames as the most perilous of relationships.

I am him, and he is me. That's what the Twin Flame describes. We share the same soul. We can read each other's body language. We know what each other's thinking. We share the same passion for music and travelling and experiences. But we also have the same flaws.

When we dig deeper as to why things some people do annoy us so much, it's usually because they remind us of us. This is the reason why Twin Flames cannot get together. We share the same weaknesses. As long as either of us have an unresolved shadow, we cannot accept seeing the same shadow appear in the other person's personality. It literally is like looking in the mirror and seeing a demon staring back at you.

I spent many great years hating myself without knowing why. In the last 5 years I've had the privilege of discovering and integrating with my shadow self. I'm not 100% of the way there, but I can safely say I've grown a lot since.

Maybe he's still got unresolved shadows. Maybe he saw things about me that reminded him of himself, and that spooked him.

For Twin Flames to have a lasting relationship, both members need to fully accept themselves. It's the only way. And most people bring their shadows to their graves without even knowing. So maybe we're not meant to be together. Maybe this is just part of the life experience where I am showed possibilities, but not expected to commit to them. Like watching fish swim in an aquarium.

A year ago when I broke up, I told myself that I will focus on investing on friendships because they tend to last longer than relationships. And I needed to figure out why my relationships don't last longer than 6 years, because I am tired of always having to restart. I didn't think the universe would offer me an answer so quickly. Maybe the universe always shows us the answers immediately, I just have better awareness to see it now.

The universe, in its most vicious manner, presented me a friend who I don't want as a friend. It gave me the answer to the question I've been asking. And it showed me the lessons I needed to learn before I can finally get into a relationship that will last me till the end. Patience and self love. At least I think it is. I need to play the long game. I need to slow myself down to match his pace. I need to be a friend first. And I need to love myself enough to ask for what I want in a relationship.

I am almost here now. I can finally look myself in the mirror without feeling ashamed of myself. I can finally see the love, compassion and soul in myself. I know what I am suppose to be in this world. How I'm suppose to contribute. I can finally embrace myself and say "You're perfect, scars and all."

I just wish that one day I can embrace him and say to him "You're perfect, scars and all." And he would do the same back to me.

For the first time in 42 years, I found myself. Not in the same way as discovering my life purpose, but in the same way as being in a multiverse.

Gathering of the Tribes

2021-03-21T00:26:00.001+08:00

To gather with friends,

In special events,

I feel completely blessed.

But invites I give,

Yet none I receive,

Perhaps I’m just disliked.

The 8 Times I Fell in Love With You

2021-03-18T10:36:00.001+08:00

You were a special person. One who, at first glance, anyone normal would regard as hardly useful aside from being a companion with a short lifespan. But throughout the 14 years being in the family, you were so much more.

The first time I fell in love with you was the first time I met you. You were so no bigger than my palm, barely able to stand and walk a straight line. You thought my hand and my face were two separate entities, and interacted with them differently.

Because you were taken from your mother at such a young age, eating solid food was a struggle. We had to mash the food into paste. Both your front legs had to be in your bowl in order for you to reach your food. In the mouth... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And out the back. Such an efficient pooping machine, I thought.

The second time I fell in love with you was how you would greet me every day after work with such enthusiasm. Work was tough for me, having just started working and not having direction in life. I hated many parts of my life because that was when I realised I was good at nothing. A mediocre destined to live an average life.

All the pain and struggle will disappear as soon as I reach home, giving you the signature whistle. You would run to the front door and greet me with such excitement, as if we haven't met for days. I could feel my pain and burden melt away, replaced with your endless slobbering licks.

Speaking of struggling at work, I spent almost 6 - 7 years searching for my place in the world. Like any young and ambitious person, I wanted to be among the stars. As years go by, I was humbled by my inability to achieve those dreams.

It was tough on me in the beginning, and I hated everything and everyone around me. Most of all, I hated myself. You were always there to accompany me, unfazed by my tantrums and anger. Just by being around me, you kept reminding me of the most important things in life.

That was when I fell in love with you the third time. Because of you, I stopped chasing money and things, and started chasing experiences. I started loving myself again. I start appreciating family more. And I am forever in your debt for that.

The fourth time I fell in love with you was when you would always take the time to check up on all of us while we are at home. When mom and I were working in separate rooms, you would occasionally walk into our rooms and see what we're doing. I am glad I always took the time to stop working and spend the little moments with you.

You would also choose strategic spots to sleep at home, so you can keep an eye on every family member at all times. We thought we were your guardian, turned out you were the one guarding us all these while.

The fifth time I fell in love was with your attitude and intelligence. Well that's a love/hate thing, but leaning more towards love. Your ability to communicate your feelings and thoughts is amazing. You would position your body accordingly depending on whether or not you want me to carry you. You have a wide array of tricks you would automatically dispense for treats.

When you want to display your anger, you would jump onto our beds and drop a pool of pee. That usually sends us off the roof, but we could never stay mad at you for long. Whenever you give me that look, I'd ask 'What do you want?' and you would lead me to whatever it is you want my help with.

The sixth time I fell in love with you was when you would always hop onto my bed in the morning to sleep with me before I wake up. I know you were just there for the air conditioning, but it did feel very nice to have had your company.

The seventh time I fell in love with you was your smell. The smell of your paws and your fur. They are distinct, and no other doggie smelled like you. Your blanket and your clothes would smell like you. I will miss that the most.

The eighth time I fell in love with you was the patience and conviction you had even down to the last days of your life. Upon returning home from your 10-day vet treatment, I think you already knew you couldn't last much longer. But you persevered, eating as much as we could feed you, because you knew that would make us happy.

You mustered all the strength you could for the final days, giving us a glimpse of your younger years. When I left for work one day, you wanted to follow me out. I didn't understand why until a few days later when you could barely able to stand up and walk a straight line.

The doctor later said you would only have a couple of days left, and we should stay with you. It all happened too quickly. In the few hours left on your death bed, I could see that you held on for as long as you could. But it wasn't because you weren't ready to leave us, instead you knew we weren't ready to let you go.

Thank you for giving us as much time as you could even though it hurt so much.

Dear Paris, of all the times I fell in love with you, none is more important or significant than the other. All of them together and by themselves make up the immense love I have for you, and it is what makes you my forever love.

You may think your existence in our family is of little significance, but in fact you were the anchor that held us together. Even in death, you brought all of us closer than ever before.

Thank you, my baby girl. Thank you for your life, your smiles, your annoying high pitch barks, your ecstatic greets, and your bossy temper. May you find peace, happiness and endless supplies of blueberries where you are now. We are eternally grateful for you.

Love, your family.

What Do You Fear The Most?

2021-02-16T23:23:00.002+08:00

I was listening to a discussion in Clubhouse today, and they were talking about the thing they fear the most in life and how they managed to overcome it.

Many talked about how the things they feared the most which kept them from progressing, and what they did to overcome them and eventually managed to move forward in life.

I don’t remember when it happened, but I eventually lost track of the discussion and went into my own head. What was it that I feared the most in life which kept me from moving forward? I know what it was. Disappointment.

In everything I do, I was very afraid of disappointing the people around me. Maybe it was because I’ve always been a disappointment my entire childhood. I was never good at anything, and my parents couldn’t brag about me to the relatives. Everyone else were overachievers, and me, I’m just an all-round loser.

I’ve always avoided taking up responsibilities or being in the limelight because I was afraid I will disappoint everyone. At work, I never wanted to take up jobs for friends and family. I only take jobs from strangers so when I do disappoint them, it wouldn’t matter as much.

Often times I would even beat myself to the ground before everyone started giving feedback on my lack of performance. I was my own harshest judgement.

One time I was recommended by a friend into a company. After only 4 months, I decided to leave the company. I told everyone I didn’t want to travel into the city to work. But part of me, if I was being honest with myself, didn’t want to disappoint that friend in the eyes of his colleagues.

All of my past relationships failed because I eventually felt the disappointment my partners had on me, and decided that I didn’t want to waste their time anymore.

I never really got out of this fear, actually. I’m still avoiding many things because I am afraid I would disappoint the people around me. So I prefer to just stand in the shadow and let opportunities pass me by. Many people say failures will make us stronger, but it isn’t true. Some failures break you and make you believe that you are not meant for anything great. So you decide to be content with mediocrity.

That is my greatest fear.

The Day I Was Visited By The Past

2019-01-05T00:29:00.000+08:00

Just yesterday I was visited by my past. It wasn't that long ago this past, just about 8 months back. It was in the form of a person.

We started keeping in touch before Christmas, and the occasional back and forth texts turned more frequent. Eventually we started gaming online to help each other through tough quests.

The night before Christmas the person called me up, asking for my company in a festive occasion. "I have nobody to hangout with tonight." Partly out of this deeply buried feeling I still have for the person and partly out of compassion, I agreed to the little date.

I picked the person up from home and we went to the coffee place we always visited when we were dating for the past 2.5 years. And we spent the night playing the game together.

Initially we both felt a little awkward and didn't know what to say to each other. Conversations were too formal. "How have you been?" "How are your dogs?"

As the night went on, we quickly sank into the normal habits before our break up. Gaming, chatting about casual stuff we always talked about. Before midnight, we adjourned to McDonald's for ice cream and supper. Then I sent the person home, and headed home myself.

We didn't talk much until a couple of days before my New Years Eve outing with our common friends. We were gonna spend karaoke evening together through midnight. The person asked if I wanted to hangout, and I invited the person to our event instead. Since they're all friends anyway, I thought it would be a good time to catch up on old times.

On the day of New Years Eve we started hanging out earlier, just the two of us. We had lunch then watched a sappy Taiwanese movie. After that we had early dinner, then headed to an ice-cream place to play games.

It was a good day. It was as if we never parted. We joked like we had before, and we made those silly faces we've always done to each other. In a way it felt like the happiest day of my entire 2018, to be honest.

It's the act of doing absolutely nothing productive the entire day with this person I felt so comfortable with, that made it the best final day of 2018 for me. And I am pretty sure that person felt the same way.

Halfway through the day, we forgot that we had broken up 8 months ago. We forgot that we were hanging out with the person we had endless arguments with, and had completely given up on each other.

It was like I found my other missing half. The part of humanity I lost for most parts of the year.

That night, I am pretty sure I knew what was going through the minds of our friends. "Are they together again? Are they trying to get back together?"

We were chatting with each other like only old couples could. Knowing how to finish each other's sentences, and knowing what drinks each other wanted to order.

But then the height of the euphoria came crashing down when I was sending this person home that night. There this person was, sitting quietly and looking out the side window. I know what was going through the person's mind. It was going through mine, too.

At the house I could see the person standing in the front door, deciding on something. Then the person walked into the house and closed the main gate behind.

After a while I got a miss call. I called back, wondering if there was something left in my car. "Do you wanna stay over at my place?"

Silence.

"Nah. I don't think I should."

While driving back, I started crying. I completely lost control of my emotions. What just happened today? I was the happiest and saddest person at the same time the entire day. It was so surreal, like I was living a dream.

I knew today was only going to be temporary, and that I couldn't give the person any ideas of revisiting our relationship. But I completely lost control and got sucked into the past. The happiness. The comfort. The silly talks and the silly faces.

As I reached home, I got a text. "I think we shouldn't text each other anymore."

I wanted to say something else. I fell the need to console the person. But I knew the objectively right thing to do was to agree with the text.

"If you are already dating someone, you don't have to hide it from me." What what I saw next from the person.

My reply, "I just started seeing someone recently. I didn't wanna tell you yet because I was afraid you'd be sad."

I have always been very bad at this. I always care so much what that other person may feel, that I stop myself from saying things out. Most of the time, those are just my perception. They usually become the cause of many unspoken things between two people that compound into secrets.

I had the chance to live a day in the past. It was the happiest day of my entire year, but also the saddest. It made me feel alive again, but also broke my heart.

It was as if I had my very own experience of the Ghost of Christmas Past. I forgot there was a person out there who knew me so well. A person who reminded me to be human again.

But as good as it is, we shouldn't forget why we broke up in the first place. It wasn't from a spontaneous argument, but endless and repetitive arguments that laid so many bricks between us we cannot see each other anymore.

I learned a good lesson from this relationship, one of trust and transparency. But most importantly, one of constant reflection. I got so caught up with the arguments and defending my position, that I forgot how to be a partner. I forgot how far we drifted. I forgot how far we grew apart.

Just yesterday, I was visited by the past. It was the best day I felt in a long time. And it was also the saddest.

Poor You

2015-09-15T01:13:00.002+08:00

I'm tired. I'm sick. I've had enough.

The hate. The complaints. The whiny people always blaming you for everything that goes wrong around them.

I hate it when people return home from a somewhat first world and the first thing they notice are everything bad about you. The heat, the rain, the rubbish, the congested airport, the loud taxi drivers haggling outside, the conveyor belt that delays their baggages. The dirty toilets, the long queues at the stamping line, the people trying to cut that queue.

Those who had their queues cut will blame you for the bad education you give them. The ones who cut the queue will blame you for making these lines inefficient and slow. Other countries are never this slow, they say. People elsewhere are more educated than this, they say.

Roads are congested, and it's your fault. Heavy rain slows down the traffic flow, and it's your fault. Faulty traffic lights, your fault. Motorbikes running lights, your fault. Portholes, your fault. Those who drive fast hate the slow drivers for not respecting the time of others. The slow drivers hate fast drivers for disrespecting their lives and safety.

Weavers think they're better drivers than everyone else. The speed limit is too slow. That 'No U-Turn' sign is unreasonable. Toll price is always going up. Petrol price is always going up. And it's all your fucking fault. Always. Because everything needs to free for everyone right? Because except for them, nobody else needs to make money, right? Because only they know how best to set the speed limit of a road, not some actual road safety department that went for numerous certifications. Because these road safety department people only went to Berlin for an expensive holiday and used the certificate examination as an excuse.

A baby is left in the car, and everyone blames you. A dog is left in a car and everyone blames you. The beaches are filthy and everyone blames you. The waterfalls are treacherous, and everyone blames you.

A family gets killed in a freak car crash. You get blamed for the family driving a beat up car because cars are so damned expensive here. A man dies of hypertension and you get blamed for not making healthy food cheap enough for everyone.

People cannot get jobs because you are not an ideal location for FDI and job creation. People cannot compete with expats because your education system sucks. People always live along the poverty line because you don't know how to take care of them.

I am sick and tired of all these blames and whines. If cars are expensive, buy cheaper ones. If you can't afford it, work harder. If traffic is always congested, take the train. We are a part of the country that is our home. If you don't like this country, leave the hell out.

Dear whiners

Don't walk around complaining about every fucking thing that's happening around you as if it is your bloody birth right that everything must be given to you. Don't put on those fucking black faces when things don't go your way and say 'Malaysia Boleh' like you're so much better than everyone else.

Freedom and democracy is not a right served in a silver platter. Economic advancement does not just happen like night and day. We are the driving force for the economy. If we spend all our days trying so hard to snake off work, and all we ever think about is the end of the month so we can get our pay, how on Earth will our country advance?

So stop blaming the country. Stop blaming my country. If something goes wrong, look in the mirror first. And stop your fucking stupid 'Malaysia Boleh' bullshit, it's an insult to my country. If you don't like it you can either make it a better place, or just leave.

Happy birthday, my love

The Rainbow Fizz

2013-10-15T03:11:00.001+08:00

He does not frequent indie gigs in his neighborhood, but he does so every once in a while. Partly because he was in the scene for a while. Partly because there are very good music going on there that the mainstream cannot fathom.

He agrees that sometimes he cannot digest the material that gets played. The lack of control and filter and moderation leads to the showcase of music so eclectic and eccentric it often baffles his senses.

But he went ahead this time. To support a friend and to support his band. He also likes their music. He also agrees that the utmost support should be given to a community such as this, because mainstream ears will not ever. And also because the gig was located very near his prior arrangement venue.

He went without much expectation other than to unwind and relax. He went also in anticipation of his favorite band's upcoming album, to get a preview of what may go into the CD.

Before the event started his friend pulled him into the changing room for a chance at some smokes. There was already a circle of, possibly musicians gearing to play their set soon, handing some produce around while sampling it. He got hold of it. Take only two drags, His friend says. No more.

So he took two drags, but they were deep ones. He caught a glimpse of a guy chuckling while looking at him. Having done that he returned the produce, thanked them and left.

That night was the first night he experienced music like he never did in his entire life. The hall was pitch black save a projector showing random clips in all desaturated glory. For the first time he did not hear guitars and drums and bass. For the first time he heard the sunrise. The waves crashing against rocks. He heard the footsteps of dancers. He saw a man running through the fields of gold grass.

The darkness of a dead forest. No leaves on the trees. Mud for ground. Thunder crashing beyond the foggy horizon. The uncertainty, the heart beating fast.

The music went on as his emotion surged along. His eyes running all around so quickly, absorbing everything around him. But he would as soon forget the last thing he sees as his eyes pick up a new object. His thoughts wander in and out of the hall, in and out of the music. He thought of many things. Things he forgot he thought about just minutes ago. Or was it hours?

He lost track of time. He didn't know if he'd been sitting there for hours, or was it just a couple of minutes. He didn't know if it was a new song playing, or still the same one. He didn't know if he'd asked this question before. People walk pass. He didn't know he gave way to them until he saw them squeezing through the crowd in front.

He didn't know if anyone talked to him. And if he talked to anyone, he didn't remember what he said. Everything was a blur. But everything inside him was sharp as hell. He felt like falling, only to realize he was standing still and steady. Whenever he turned his head, he felt his inner head lagging behind his real one.

When he talked to people he would try to act normal. He would smile for a brief moment to show responsiveness in the conversation. Then he would suddenly realize the conversation long over, but the smile still plastered across his face. He would suddenly remember himself over reacting to a statement, but not remember if he actually reacted or that it was just his thought.

There was ambient music playing. Probably the most boring set he has ever heard. But indie musicians support each other even if they don't appreciate the music. So he stayed and tried to absorb it in. He closed his eyes as it began. It took him away. Swept him off his feet. Carried him to the skies and into a completely different world. He felt immediately the emotions laid upon the piano keys as they were struck. One by one. It felt like the despair of a crying titan. Slow. Almost silent. Solitary.

He drifted in and out of reality for the longest time. He didn't know for how long, but it didn't matter. He was probably standing as still as a log in the hall, not moving a single hair to the flow of the music playing in front. But inside he was more connected than anyone else in the hall. He felt every heart beat, every tear and every joy in every single chord.

This was probably the first time he'd ever felt a connection this deep to the music he was listening to. He finally understood the stories that were told behind banging heads, strings and pedals, synthesizers and drums. This was the first time he saw rains drops come out of keys. It was the most amazing and also the most terrifying night of his life. The latter true because of the former.

Eloquent Chords

2013-01-09T12:57:00.000+08:00

It's better to feel pain than nothing at all.

Pain represents the lowest chord of expression, but to feel nothing at all is to not even have a single chord struck in the rift of life. It's existence allows one to appreciate the opposite. It clears the head, it encourages proper conduct. It heals and it matures. Pain is the teacher one never live without, have full gratitude for, but would hope not to ever see again in the future. To feel nothing is to not have felt anything before. So if one were to choose between feeling pain or nothing at all, always opt for the former. Stay stubborn. Stay optimistic. Realism is for the weak and unworthy. Fall. Fall again. And again. Pain strengthens. Strength is the fuel to move on. To avoid pain is to avoid love and the opposite of love is indifference.

- Stubborn Love, The Lumineers

Stuck in her daydream.

Reality is an opinion. Some lucky ones, by streak of karma of their past life, were able to easily cruise pass this. Everyone wants to be good at something, to excel, to be loved, to love, to belong. Some find it being awake and being amongst ones they love. Some prefer the couple grams take them into a reality where nobody cares, nobody judges, nobody looks twice and frowns. The reality where objects don't matter, the reality where money and status mean nothing. She struggles to stay in her daydream. She works hard to afford the traveling expenses, the bubbling spoons, the heated pipes, the syringes, the cements. She wants to remain there forever, and not return to the world of judgement and frowns and money and status and material ownership. She wants to fly away like an angel. Lungs burnt. Mouth taste the sour puke she don't remember expelling. She finally flies away, like an angel, covered in white on the grey cobblestones just inches away from the sidewalk.

- The A Team, Ed Sheeran

I would wrap you in my thin white arms, sit and watch the stars glide

Hold on to it, your friend, your brother, your sister, your lover. It will love you back, it will feed you. It will remove your requirement for food and shelter and clothing and protection. It will remove your need for achievements and social acceptance. It will give you peace. It will fulfill you. Wrap it tight, do not let it go. It will not keep you happy and content and un-needing forever. When the cold and wet and dirt and hunger and thirst returns, use it. Line it up in thin white lines. Take it all in and feel blessed again. Remove all needs for as long as you have this friend brother sister lover you need nothing else. You will not feel the hunger not the thirst not the stench. Not the cold. Not the wet. The dark grey and black will return to glittering colors, they melt and hover and swirl. Wrap your thin arms around it and do not let it go. Lie on the grass. Watch the stars glide across the colorful sky. Absorb the beauty of the world. But hold it tight.

- Otis Redding, Everclear

You're hiding out so painfully.

Skeletons. Shadows. Ghosts. They chase after you. They catch up, take you over and they show you just how ugly you are. A closet full of them. You keep them locked away and hope that they never come out. You put on a mask and pretend nothing is going on. Yet quietly they creep out of the steel barricades and they hover in darkness, waiting to lunge at you when you fall weak. That perfect timing to strike. Then your consciousness is taken from you, control revoked. All you can do is stand by and observe as shadows and ghosts wreck havoc with your body, and leave you to tend to their mess. You fear the future as much as you hate your past. It is not your fault these ghosts and skeletons follow you, but there is no one you can blame either. Until you learn to control and accept these ghosts and skeletons, you will always be hiding out painfully and watching the world turn without you.

- No Envy No Fear, Joshua Radin

Equal partition abolishes emulation.

Fight for equal rights. The rights to own, to obtain, to be seen, to be heard, to be cared for. Fight for equal wealth. Remove the chains, allow complete mobility. But equality is by no means complete and unconditional. Equal partition of wealth abolishes emulation. It abolishes labor. It abolishes competition. It creates entitlement. It creates inequality. So fight. But do not fight ignorantly for unestablished equality. Do not fight for undefined wealth distribution. But fight for equal opportunity, the opportunity at labor creation and competition. Fight for equal mobility without shackles and segregation and color partition.

- Les Miserables

Heal the scars from off my back, I don't need them anymore

Pain will eventually dissipate. It will scatter and it will turn into dead scars. Scars are superficial. They do not harm. They do not cause pain. But they do remind you of your survival, your hardship, your courage. They remind you of how much you have grown. How you managed to come to terms with the ghosts and skeletons, the past that for so long have only been able to haunt you. How you have accepted who and what you are, and know that it is not so bad after all. So peel off your scars. Remove them from your back and throw them away. You don't need them anymore. Nobody else would need to see how much you have grown either, for this battle waged within yourself is only for your own reminiscence.

- Welcome Home, Radical Face

The Grendel

2012-12-04T12:11:00.000+08:00

Source: http://www.kiechle.com/trips/index.htm?toe/toe.htm

Ancient folklore told of a mythical ogre that lived somewhere south of Bern. Although it was never seen by any eyes, locals never doubted it's existence. This ogre would lie dormant amidst the northern face of a mountain at the very edge of the Alpine range, protecting it from any trespassers.

Over the years technology and civilization moved into the neighborhood. They built ski lodges fit for kings, and they dug train tunnels through the foot of the ogre's abode. Like mushrooms, villages began sprouting around the northern vicinity. These collection of villages were named after the Grendel, a troll that was said to have roamed free in the dark ages, raging all life at it's wake. The same troll some believed retreated to protecting the northern face of this very mountain at the very edge of the Alpine range.

Source: http://www.isiahfactor.com/

While other mountains and slopes in it's range basks in the full glory of the sun and snow, this northern face remains hidden. It is always black and gloomy. It receives the worst of the season's weather and holds it like a precious ring it cannot ever live without. Like a towering vertical wall it stands proud and sinister, keeping all life miles away.

We humans.

We humans and our arrogance. Our greed. Our desires and our culture. Humans could not resist the unexplored, the untouched, the unseen. And so it began, the race to conquer, to win, to be a part of written history. Ski lodges were transformed into theatrons riddled with gigantic binoculars, and the black northern face of this very mountain the stage.

"If you are an actor, this will be your opportunity at Hamlet."

For a very brief moment in the coldest winters the veil of thick clouds would draw away, revealing the naked black rocks that make up what at one moment was the final unattained history of the Alps. Warriors would flock to the place, attempting to slay this mythical ogre that lays hidden among the crags. They would come armed to their teeth not with ammunition of swords and guns and lead shells, but with ropes and axes and pitons and crampons and rucksacks. For a brief moment in the coldest winters the world will stop to watch with full attention this drama that would unfold.

Winters would come and winters would go. Many worked their way up the first bivouac and turned back. Some days the mountain seemed almost too forgiving by allowing hints of sun draping it's chest, only to fall ill by mid day and drowning itself with heavy clouds and snow storms. Lifeless bodies would lie frozen at it's foot the very next day, proving to the world that Grendel is not a creature of pagans.

But some would make it past the first bivouac. Two would make it pass the Rote Fluh on the south-eastern side of this face and continued to push their way up the section of rocks that required one piton every meter of the way. Success came with a cost. Clouds loomed and weather brewed the very day they setup bivouac, like curtains closing on the casts from their audience. Both of them were never seen alive again. Then many years later a much younger pair would take on the stage not knowing they would be the cast of the most epic drama ever written by the Grendel. A 22-year old German kid performed a move so overwhelming to the mountaineering world Hollywood blockbusters are still using it as the climax of their movies. Just hours away from the summit, the beginning of the final act opened with an orchestra of howling winds and the whistle of falling rocks and snow. Priority was if a climber was injured, rescue takes precedence. So they abandoned their mission for immortality and started downwards. One by one the mountain ate them, through exhaustion and storm and avalanche. The final one died stuck on a knot of a rope, just inches away from his rescuers.

It was through the historical traverse that many climbers were able to complete the mountain successfully. Today the thought of attempting this mountain is no longer reserved for the world's elites. But just when humans are about to dismiss the mythical Grendel as a creature of one's own fear of the unknown, it occasionally sharpens it's claws and claims a life or two.

LOVE: Prequel to The Pain Series

2012-11-20T01:15:00.000+08:00

You hate. You love. You hate to love because loving makes you weak, it makes you need, it makes you hate. Love exposes the most vulnerable of yourself to that one person, breaks down all the walls you worked so hard and long to build. You lose all focus, you lose sight of your goals and aspirations. You forget who you are to become who you want that person to like. You sell yourself short of your own identity to fit into everything that person is. Then you realize you are weak because you do not have a backbone. You need to get the attention of that person. You need that person to approve, to see, to nod, to smile, to laugh, to want to see you.

If you'd see yourself from a third person's eyes, you'd hate yourself for everything you have become. But not yet. You're still okay with it because this feeling drives you. This feeling that for the first time in so long you are ALIVE. There is confusion. The world turns faster than you can process, everything seems out of control. But you like it. You fucking love it. You could feel your heart beating, you could hear your breathing, long and constant. You can actually see your pupils dilate, that smirk that runs across your face whenever that person's name is mentioned, and how those wrinkles around your eyes form showing everyone able to see that there is a lot of hidden truth behind that smirk.

But what you hate most is the fall that usually comes after the high. The fear of failure, of rejection, of crashing and burning. The depression that falls onto you almost immediately, crushing all your bones, leaving you bleeding by the sidewalk alone and cold. You shiver. Your breath becomes short and rapid. Your chest hurts like it has been stabbed repeatedly by a serrated knife. All these pain inside you. It implodes, you feel the pain you have never felt before, you cry but no tears would come out. And when you think you've recovered, it happens again. You think every following implosion feels less painful, they do not. They always feel like something worse than the one before. And it happens. Again. And again. And again.

Months pass, maybe a year. Everything you've ever achieved is gone. You find yourself washed up by the bank of a disgusting river, wounded, broken, tired. But suddenly you feel normal again. Your eyes can see light. Your chest doesn't feel heavy and it doesn't feel like it's bleeding from the inside. No implosion. No knives. You feel, for the first time ever, warmth in your hands. They do not tremble. Your face is not pale white. There are no longer tear marks on your cheeks. You stand up against the sunrise, it feels good. You take a breath, deep and long. You've been reborn. Much healing needs to be done, but you are glad you are out of the shithole.

You vowed never again to fall into this pit or anything like it. NEVER. So you reserve yourself, you stay away from everything that can lead to anything. Whenever someone comes near, you back off. Whenever you sense something, you immediately strategize an exit plan. You grow numb, you lose the senses. You think you're happy, able to do whatever it is you've always wanted to do, whenever you want to do them. You meet people, but they don't mean anything to you. Whenever feelings do arise, you disappear. Always running away.

People around you ask. Not the loyal ones, only the ones who love to gossip and back stab. Only the ones who'd be too quick to judge. Only those who think they know everything about the world and they can easily label you. Only those who have been having it easy and don't understand why you shouldn't do the same. Not the loyal ones. The loyal ones never ask everyone else, they only ask you. And when you do not want to tell, you will not pursuit further.

But people still talk. Why is it that you have such disgusting levels of self-esteem? Why can't you stand up and try again? Do you have some queer disease, or just without the disease? People love to talk, to compare you to what normal people would do. And when you do not fit into this category, you are worth the headlines of the evening edition.

Then out of nowhere, it happens. You have no idea how and when it happened, but it just fucking did. Stealthily it creeps into your head and embeds this cancer into you, and when you realized it's existence it is already in stage 3. Chronic. You've fallen in love again. All the strongest walls and defense systems crumble. The world around you falls apart. Volcanoes erupt, ice-caps melt, storm rages. Chaos, chaos, chaos. You have no idea what is happening. You do not know what to do. You don't want it, but you are redoing every single thing all over again.

Love. Need. Hate. The smirk. The smile. The lost identity. The heart beat, the pupils, the inability to contain anything. In your every waking hour. In your every dream. No backbone. You are hating yourself right now, but not yet. For once in the longest time, you feel fucking ALIVE. You want to keep that feeling for a little while more. Once in a while sanity knocks on your door. It tells you to come to your senses. It tells you to snap out of this. You do, for a while. Then that person shows another trait you respect so much, you immediately toss yourself into the whirlpool of self-destructive clouds again.

It comes a full circle now. You're in so deep now. You remember why you've always been trying so hard to avoid this. But it's too late. You look back to the gruesome years it took for you to recover, the pain you had to go through that no self-inflicting cuts can trump, and all the senses are suddenly knocked back into your head. I told you so, it says. I told you so, over and over again. How are you suppose to get yourself out of this shit now? Fucking idiot. Stupid fucking idiot!

For Once

2012-11-09T17:09:00.001+08:00

For once I want to celebrate my stupidity. I want to be able to look back at all the shit I've done wrong, however bad, smile at them, and let myself know it's not that bad. I want to be able to tell people how stupid I was, how stupid I am, and how stupid I can always become in the future. Because I am me. Let me be as stupid as I want to be.

For once I want to celebrate my arrogance. However little I have I want to be able to tell people I'm actually good at something. I may not be the best, but being good is enough to earn bragging rights. Let me talk about these things. Let me be happy for me. Let me look down on people. Let me spit at people. Let me laugh at people. Let me be arrogant and proud.

For once I want to be a douche. I want to fire and forget. I want to do things and not think of the consequences and just move on. I want to forget I have a family and not live my life for the family. I want to get whatever I want, be whatever I want, become whatever I want, and not think about the effects of them. I don't want to think about everyone else's feelings anymore. I want to start thinking of myself for just this once. Let me be an ass to everyone around me and not be bothered.

For once I want to be alone. Let me be free of labels and stigma and fear and discrimination and hate. Let me be the only Man in the world. Let me be free of judgement. Of cock-stares. Let me be in peace. Leave me the fuck alone. No noise. No talking. No back-stabbing. No rumors. No gossips.

For once I want to be like my father. Let me be irresponsible. Let me be abusive. Let me be a dick. Let me rage whenever I want to at whatever I want to. Let me kill. Let me beat up anybody I want. Let me spend all my money without any guilt, buy anything just because I want to. Let me be the one taking money from everyone instead of giving, despite me making the most in my family.

For once I want to drink. Let me smoke up. Let me chase. Let me trip. Let me see colorful paintings on the walls melting. Let me wake up to another day like the one before, always seeing paintings on the walls melting.

For once I want to dig my nose in public. Let me fart the silent killer in the lift. Let me sit with my legs raised in the restaurant. Let me drive on the wrong side of the road. Let me sit in the corner of the house I don't own and dream of being a zombie-slayer. Let me not need medication to stay alive. Let me take food off of stalls without paying. Let me screw that neighbor's hot wife and not need to pay.

For once I want to have the parking lot I want, whenever I want it. Let me have green light on all the roads I pass through, when I pass through them. Let me have red light whenever I want to send a text message. Let me have whoever I want whenever I want. Let there be traffic jam when I want to be late and no traffic jam when I'm rushing.

For once I want to feel alive. Let me do the things I think is right at that time, no matter how silly and idiotic they actually are. Let me have no remorse, no fear, no regrets. No books to tell me what I should and shouldn't do. No need to earn respect of anyone. No need to be good at anything.

For once I want to die in that little corner of the back alley of a druggie-infested street. Let me go without having to think what would my family think of me, what would my friends think of me. Let me not have a proper burial. Let me have none of it. Let me rot into nothingness and let nobody miss me.

Internal Affairs

2012-10-31T16:21:00.000+08:00

Let it go. It's over. What you're doing will never amount to anything. I'm not talking about anything substantial, I'm talking about anything AT ALL.

But what if this time it's different? What if the Law of Attraction actually works?

Not for this it won't. You can attract all other kinds of shit, but not this. Some things are not meant to be because they are not meant to be.

The Law of Averages apply. One day there will be one that will work. Until then I will just have to keep my hopes up and optimism up and keep searching.

You're just coming up with all kinds of weird-ass 'Laws' to justify your thoughts. And each time you fall, you get hurt. Each time you fall you take a longer time to get up. Everything around you will get hurt. Family. Friends. For what?

For a dream, a dream that one day I will find it. I will find it. I know I will.

And then what? What will happen then? To what end will you keep destroying what you have around you now to obtain this mythical chalice? Your obsession it's worse than Ahab's. At least he's chasing after something real!

What is real and what is not? What is humanity and our achievements if not for the dream of the unattainable?

Everything physically plausible must first be theoretically proven. What do you have that is proven? Where is your mathematical formula? I'm all fucking ears.

.....

Nothing.

Some things are not explainable by calculations. Some things are based on gut feeling.

What gut feeling? Where is your objectivity? Your common fucking sense? Where is it? What makes you think it will happen at all. I commend your optimism but this is consuming you. It's eating you from inside. You're decaying and it fucking stinks from here.

What if there is a giant pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?

What if you spend all your life searching for the end of this rainbow and you find a giant pot of cornflakes?

But what if there is gold?

There is none you fucking retard! It is as impossible as you waving a wand and conjuring up a freaking dragon!

.....

Let it go, dude. Nothing will happen. Not now, not ever. Don't go chasing after white whales. Let it go. Settle for normal and human things instead.

'Human things'

Yes human things. That's what we are. We're not any better than other living creatures in this world. We have limits too. Do not be so arrogant and put yourself with the likes of Gods.

'Limits'

What are you ready to risk for it? Are you ready to lose everything, including this thing you want so bad? Your judgement is clouded, dude. When you come to your senses you will understand and agree with me. Trust me. Don't go ahead with it.

I hate it when people say 'Trust Me'.

It doesn't fucking matter what you hate to hear. This entire conversation is about what you hate to hear. Only a true friend would say things you hate to hear, because sometimes they matter.

You know how you water a seed, and you keep watering but you can't see the plant bud? What if it was about to bud when I decide to listen to you and walk away? What if I lose out on the single biggest opportunity of my life?

What if the seed is dead all along? And no matter how long you water, a plant will never emerge? How many years would you have wasted trying to grow a dead plant?

.....

Forget about it. Move on. Move along. Find something else. Find something real.

My Bucket List

2012-10-03T14:10:00.000+08:00

Life. It is appreciated only when one has nearly lost it. It is valued when one is deeply humbled by it's fragility. People jump off buildings and planes, scale mountains, risk frost bites and death, run through war-torn and mine-filled lands, swim across jellyfish-infested channels.

They're not insane. They do not have the addiction for adrenaline. They do not hate life. They are not suicidal. These people want to feel alive. They want to appreciate life. The want to value what they have, and they want to share this value with the rest of the world. And they sure as hell don't want to do it in a Volvo 240.

This is my bucket list. It's non-exhaustive. I will probably change it every now and then. I may not even get any of them done before I die. It may not be cool to some. But right now this is it.

Actually Publishing My Book

I like writing, but I'm sure you would've figured that out by now. And I was not always this Mitchy (Male + Bitch = Mitch). Out of the many stories I've written, one I would really like to publish. Maybe soon. Maybe later. Before I die, I hope. I will get it published.

Free Solo

So over the years of climbing I've moved further and further away from doing the free solo. I'm now an indoor boulderer, without ropes but also without real rocks. Soon maybe when I feel really up to it and suddenly have swollen balls I will work my way to striking this out of the list as DONE.

Pripyat

I want to go there. I want to feel the radiation seep into my blood. I want to stand right below the Ferris wheel, walk into the abandoned swimming pool, the courtyards, the playgrounds.

An Enterprise

I'm never much of a work-for-people kind of person. I hate the boredom of stability and tranquility. It sucks the life out of me. I never want to climb ladders and own expensive watches. But I want to build a business. I want to start something worthwhile. I want it to grow and then I want to sell it off to some rich dick who only knows how spend his daddy's trust fund. I will respect him because he will buy it for a very high price, because he will be too lazy to do proper research.

Coffee Place

They say there exists a mythical coffee shop. Their coffee sourced from the best parts of the world. Your coffee never hotter than 60 degrees. The shop filled with comfy couches. With shelves stacked with the best books in the history of humanity. With the most awesome indie music the world can find. They serve Flat White, which is actually a flatter version of a cappuccino NOT latte. They let you have iced-cappuccino because it's got nothing to do with the amount of foam on top. They use awesome bone-glass cups without fancy flowers and chickens. And they pair your scones with Nutella. And they have Red Velvet cakes too. I want to own one of these awesome coffee places.

List of Mountains

Kilimanjaro. Annapurna. Aconcagua. Andes. Everest. Matterhorn. Denali. Fitz Roy. It goes on. I'd most probably not be able to even do one. But it's nice to dream, no?

100 Pull Ups sub-3 Minutes

It's embarrassing to even mention this because my current time is 15 minutes.

1-Handed Muscle Ups

This serves almost no value apart from the fact that it is way cooler than being able to do a 1-handed pull up!

Nurburgring Northern Loop in a Pagani Zonda R

The -ring because it's an awesome track. The Zonda because it's the best car ever made. Nuff said.

Experience Lukla Airport

This will probably be with Everest as I can opt to fly to and from the most dangerous airport in the world. What is life without near-death experiences?

Kill a Zombie

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Transalpine Run

Because it sounds like fun to run up and down mountains across 3 countries for 10 days straight .

To Die attempting K2

I don't kid. I know I will never be able to summit this mountain even if I'm given 10 lifetimes to prepare. Some places you have to earn the right to see. Some places you have to earn a spot to die in. I want to earn a spot here. I want to be frozen and immortalized forever. Hikers passing through will see me and be reminded of how precious their lives are, how easy it is to lose it. This is where I want to end.

And I scroll up the list. This list needs a huge-ass bucket. But fuck it. Life is too short. Gotta start now. Off to lunch!

The Dark Before The Dawn

2012-09-28T14:29:00.000+08:00

Around you people die. Around you people fall sick. People catch colds and get hit by trucks and fall off buildings. They leave behind them families, children, parents, friends. They leave behind them troubles and unfinished businesses. You stand still. You do what everyone does, and yet you feel that somehow you will not be harmed. You want to believe you're the chosen one, the Wolverine with incredible healing powers or the Batman who can never seem to die. But you're not. None of us are.

One day you go to the hospital and the doctor says you might have caught a killer virus, a ferocious cancer growth, the damaged kidney. One day when you're driving happily you're hit by a truck and the next thing you know you've lost all your limbs. And you lie there in bed, in disbelieve. You don't know how to react.

In the movies, people cry. In the movies, people lose their temper and start screaming out. In the movies families know exactly what to say and friends are always there to make you feel better. No. Not this time. This time you have no idea what to do. You can't cry, you can't scream. Your families are nowhere to be seen, and your friends keep saying the wrong things over and over again.

The doctor lays out the possible treatments you can take. He looks at you and asks you how you feel. You say "I feel.... nothing". Numbness. Everything around you is a blur. Things happen and you can never catch up with it. You got nobody to talk to about this. You're lost. Blur. Too fast. Words don't register. You stare into blank space, and nothing happens in your head. Your hands. They tremble. Your breath. They tremble. You curl up into a fetal position, hoping to gain a little comfort. It doesn't come to you. You punch walls to remove the numbness. It doesn't go away.

Then you look at people around you, living normal lives, and you want to get back to that life. You miss it. You can't believe that one small mistake can lead to such a catastrophic disaster. You refuse to accept what has happened to you. You'd sleep every night, dream of waking up all normal again, and then waking up to a damaged body. Denial. You'd always wake up to a crippled you, a wrecked you. They say crying helps, but no tears would come out. They say screaming out loud helps. You stuff a pillow onto your face and you scream into the pillow. It helps, but only very slightly. They say drinking drowns your sorrows, but it will always come back once you sober up again. No. NO. NO! This is NOT happening to me! NO FUCKING WAY!!!

Rage takes over. You keep losing your temper, even at the smallest things. People around you will start keeping a distance because they don't understand you and they have no idea what is happening to you. You explode. You find it hard to keep a straight and objective thought. You can't control it. The fire inside. The need to deal damage. The need to scream and throw things around and see everything around you burn to the ground. Sanity hangs by a thin thread. One minute you know what you're doing, and the other you lose everything. Why? Why the fuck is this happening to ME?! WHY? It repeats in your head. It rewinds and it replays. The last moments replay and replay and replay. It haunts the fuck out of you. WHY not HIM?! Why NOT HER?!! WHY ME?!

Sanity seeps back into your head. Slowly. Steadily. You finally regain a little bit of consciousness. You see again. You hear again. The true gravity of the situation finally weighs in on you. It's heavy. You can't breathe. Then you can breathe again. Then you can't again. You begin to think now. God may be able to help. You start striking deals with HIM. You ask for a short rewind, and in return you devote your life to helping His devotees. You promise to be vegan if. You promise to change if. Just one chance. ONE. Chance.

Nothing works. You're still the same. Times are hard. You feel useless and you've lost all dignity. You'd rather die a hero than to live a helpless shit. Google SUICIDE. Google DROWNING. Google POISONING. Some may lead you to God's doors. Some may enlighten you on some really good ways to die. There's no point in living anymore. You distance yourself from family and friends. You make them hate you. It would be easier for them to let go of someone they hate. Sometimes you would sit in the car for hours long, engine running, thinking if you should stuff a pipe from the exhaust into your cabin. Eternal sleep. Every night, you would pray for God to let you sleep and never wake up. Eternal sleep. You stand by the railroad for a while. You think. You contemplate. You consider. You take one step. Suddenly voices echo in your head. It was your mom. She called you. We're here, son. Don't do it. You turn around and walk away.

After a few attempts, a thought strikes. If you're gonna die anyway, why not make the best of what little life you have left before you go? Exit with a bang. Don't waste it by just leaving so soon. Since you're gonna die anyway. Better to enjoy until the time comes. Then you start to see. The sun. It peeks behind the most majestic mountain range in the world. It floods the ice caps gold. The sea. The waves crashing onto white sand stretching miles long. Pastel blue lakes. The jungles green from afar. The trees taller than any building known. Rich dark soil. Birds. Crickets. Monkeys. Lovers laughing, babies crying. The deafening cascade of the waterfall. The calm river afterwards. Rebirth.

What Goes On In My Head

2012-09-18T00:48:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I sit in a corner, quiet. People come up to me and ask 'Hey what you doing? Why so stoned? Why so anti-social?'

So I will tell you what I am, most of the time, thinking about.

Sometimes I think about how I would turn out if I was in a war-torn country. Will I be as bitchy as I am now (as of recent days a few of us have come out with a term to label male bitches: Mitches)? Will I be such a drama king? Would I pick up a gun and kill someone? Will I kill my parents just so I get to live? Is life that important? Is human's survival instinct so strong that one will kill even the ones he/she loves in order to stay alive?

I don't know. Because I'm not living in a war-torn country. I can't judge, I can't label, because I don't know the first thing about what these people have to go through.

Sometimes I think about pain. I think about how much pain a person can bear before he/she passes out. How much pain a person can bear before he/she dies. Sometimes I think about drowning, about free falling. Sometimes I think about being beaten to death. The question I would always ask is 'at what point does one give up fighting?'

I have been beaten before, but not to anywhere near death. And I've been bound and beaten before. The latter is more humbling. I drowned before, and in that instance there is absolutely nothing I could do but pray. Heck, I didn't even have the bloody mood to pray. But that was just me. I've fallen before. Falling is both the fastest and the slowest occurring moment in a person's lifetime. People who've fallen would know what I mean.

Sometimes I would think about what I would say right before getting myself beaten up. Because sometimes, just sometimes, it's cooler to go down fighting than whimpering like a coward. This is what I would say:

If you're gonna beat me up, make sure you kill me. If you can't kill me, run. Run as fast as you can and as far away as you can. If I find you, prepare yourself a coffin cos I ain't gonna buy you one.

I can always imagine myself saying these awesome words to my killer right before he pump my head full of lead. But I know reality won't be the same. I know I'd piss my pants and be crying for mercy like a fucking coward. But it doesn't hurt to imagine.

Sometimes I'd think about confronting someone who owes me money. He would be an epic retard and try to twist the story around to make it sound as if I actually owe him more than he owes me. You know what I'd say? I'd say this:

Here's two sacks of sand. Take it, and run. Before I finish this cigarette, I want you to disappear from my sight. If I find you, you better have the two sacks of sand with you, because I'll need to cover you with them when I'm done with you.

But I can't do one most important thing in that statement: finish the cigarette. Because I haven't been smoking for a little over a year now. And I don't think I'll ever get back to it. So this means 70% style point has already gone out the window even before I started the sentence. Okay I admit, part of this epic statement I stole from an old Bollywood movie.

Sometimes I'd try to figure out why people would love to hate each other so much, and why would people need to place themselves in smaller groups of 'elites' so they can actually feel good about themselves. Then I realized that people need to hate. We need to take a side, in everything we do - In politics, in religion, even in existence. So I think the only way for us to be united is if we have a greater enemy. It could be an alien invasion or a killer virus or vampires and werewolves.

Sometimes I would wonder why is it so hard for us to be ourselves and do what we really want to do because it would make us happy? Why is it that we need to live for other people, make other people happy, be accepted by other people? We don't live their lives. They don't live ours. It's because No Man Is an Island. And because of that every man/woman needs to be a part of society. This means we will all need to conform to certain rules of conduct, and this varies according to how high up to First World scale a society is in. Some find it sacrilegious to smoke cigarettes in front children, while some think peeing by the road side is normal.

So these are some of the rubbish that go through my head when I'm sitting in a corner all by myself. I'm not an anti-social person, sometimes I am so sociable you'd wish me dead. I may be planning world domination or a drug that can create zombies or a way to kill all humanity. Or I could be planning my dinner, or what to wear for tomorrow's Ball, or what to say if I was his best man.

Till Death Do You Part

2012-09-06T17:17:00.001+08:00

I never understood what it all meant. Probably it's because I grew up not knowing the true meaning of it. To me marriage was always simply humanity's need to be normalized into society's behaviors. Procreation and the need to ensure survival of the species is just another word for the insatiable need to quench one's thirst for lust. If everyone is doing it, so should we. My parents want to have grand kids, so lets give them grand kids. So we've been going out for a million years now, getting married is the only logical course of action. I don't want to die alone or surrounded by cats who'd, out of hunger, eat me.

You see, my family never understood true unconditional love. I don't refer to my extended family, what they do is none of my concern. Mom and dad only ever know how to fight with each other, curse at each other, and throw chairs at each other. There was a lot of hate in the house where I grew up. Not that I cared, it gave me the perfect opportunity to start smoking and drinking and clubbing (called discos back then) and running around with parangs (not what you think, really). You get the picture. I never agreed to LOVE and MARRIAGE and FAMILY and bla bla bla. Well not until quite recently.

Have you hung out with a couple who'd keep looking at each other and nodding at each other, not saying anything to each other, and knowing exactly what they were talking about? It's like they went to telepathy school.

Do you have a friend so close to you, you'd psychoanalyze all the girls he went out with and keep telling everyone nobody is good enough for him? And then suddenly this one comes along and somehow all you could ever do is nod and nod and nod... and smile?

Then there's this couple who'd spend an entire day in the cyber cafe, each doing their own stuff and playing their own games, not talking to each other, and call it a good date.

And then this girl who'd always complain about her man, about how silly he is and how he can't do this or do that. And all the while she was complaining, she had this uncontrollable smile across her face - the smile that says 'I love him I love him I love him'.

Then a very beautiful girl who met this boy when he was in deep shit with no money or anything to his name, stuck by him through thick and thin, even when business ventures turned bad. But every time I meet up with them, I know as long as they stick together they can weather any storm. The boy, by the say, can make his eyes disappear just by smiling. And he looks like a pear now. Yes, his mom agrees.

There's this guy, who the girl chose over a rich boy (he now owns a Ferrari and all the lots). Even after 4 kids, they would steal each other out for dinner dates. They still look at each other with those eyes, those feelings, like they've just met and they were full of puppy love. They make mistakes together, accept them and move on. They don't own fancy cars or big houses or enterprises, but they have each other. And really that is all that matters.

I know what it means now. Not that I am ready to embrace it, I still don't think it's my kind of thing. But I understand it. It was never about the diamonds or cars or shiny branded stuff or financial stability. It was never about making their parents happy or doing what everyone else is doing simply because. It's about being able to finish each other's sentences, about knowing exactly what the other wants just by looking at their faces, about feeling the warmth of each other even in the coldest end of the world.

Fancy birthday and anniversary celebrations are for teenagers. After a while these things will mean nothing anymore, and what is left will be the unspoken affection they have for each other. When they can sit down for dinner, like every dinner before this, eating without saying a thing to each other, proceed to watch a movie, like every other day before this, and go home knowing they've spent another eventful day with the person they love the most.

People And Paper: Promote or Pull Out

2012-09-03T12:50:00.002+08:00

Companies are going paperless. It's a trend, and I was not saved from this when I was running my little business. Going paperless is efficient: filing is made easy and space saving. Emails, news and magazines reach recipients immediately and print cost reduced dramatically.

But is paperless the answer for everything? Is this crucial medium of humanity's very civilization facing extinction? Hit the link below and be enlightened on some critical myths of paper consumption and the degree of harm it does to the world, compared to techie substitutes.

http://www.paperonline.org/myths-and-realities

Seem legit? I don't know how true it is, but I do know we are now a little more educated.

Educated Guesses, People

2012-08-28T12:12:00.000+08:00

During the past Olympics some companies promised a total prize of RM 4 Million in cash if any Malaysian would win us our very first gold medal. Unfortunately nobody came home with the gold, but that isn't the case in discussion. I overheard some people saying it's probably a good thing nobody won the cash prize, and it would be put to better use if these money were given to the poor and unfortunate. Well that's very noble of you to elect this money be given to the needy.

People have no idea how difficult it is being a national athlete and having to fight an ideology especially if they don't have a mentor to show them it's possible. I learnt this while climbing: everyone, given almost similar in skills and strength, will keep struggling on a problem until one manages to top out. Then everyone else will automatically be able to do the same, surprisingly, with less effort than they thought they needed. Its because they know it is now possible to do it. The case is same here with an Olympic gold. Because we have never gotten it before it will seem like an impossible task, especially for the pioneer.

Don't get me? Then you don't deserve to judge athletes and say their jobs are easy. If you think his gold medal incentive should be given to 'deserving' poor people, then lets also give all your increment and bonuses to the poorer people instead. Good idea, no?

While it may sound generous to be giving all the money to poorer people, one must also measure its effectiveness. For example, how many time have you seen people crossing busy roads right under the overhead bridge? Each overhead bridge takes almost a million bucks to build, and it was built to significantly reduce the risk of pedestrians trying to get to the other side. Money is only worth spending on people who deserve them. Many people are poor, not entirely but partly, because they choose to remain so. Wealth is not measured by how big your car or house, but how efficiently you use the limited resources you have. Wealth is measured by how much of your own lives you want to live.

So giving money and building free facilities for the poor will not solve poverty. But creating opportunities will. Award the deserving, regardless of wealth. They will spend some of the money, and these money will go into the pockets of other deserving people regardless of wealth, and so on and so on. And if the poor wants to become rich, they will need to show the world they deserve to be so.

So now that nobody won that gold medal. Do you think the companies will give the money away to charity anyway? Chances are not likely. But what if he'd won? He may use 1 million to buy himself a nice car, another 2 million a house and the final million to start a business. The car seller will make enough commission to send both her kids to a good private school. The house developer will be able to pay their contractors for the work and material spent building that house. The contractors will be able to put food on the home table. The business will hire workforce and rent real estate and take out loans from banks. You get where I'm headed. Everything described above would lead to opportunities for people to earn an honest living, and that was just the first stage.

It's silly for some people to blabber uneducated comments on how companies should 'better spend their dollars'. I have worked, very briefly, in one of those big banks. And I've gotten confirmation from friends in the industry that these multinationals are filled with useless people sitting around all day and getting fat paychecks for sucking up to their bosses. Managing their stakeholders, they say. Delegating jobs, they say. At least our athletes fought for something. At least they put themselves physically and mentally on the edge every time they step into the court.

You, You and You

2012-08-22T16:00:00.000+08:00

A great part of my life revolve around friends. In times when family could not, friends were the only ones who could be there when I needed help the most. Many of my friends I still have even after so long. Some I found when times were bad, some I made along the way firstly as classmates and eventually evolving into the closest of brothers. But today I will not talk about you guys. Today I talk about those who disappeared half way, those whom I lost all contact with.Yes. You, you and you. We grew up, we learnt, we taught each other, we protected each other, we inspired each other. But somewhere along the way we lost each other. To circumstances, to bad decisions, to wrong paths.

You were the first. The one who taught me the number before ONE is ZERO, the one who told me after December ends it will become January again. Those days were very vague, and I was quite shocked that I could remember bits and pieces of them. Like when you used to always bring the coolest pencil boxes to school, those with compartments that would spring out from all angles. I don't even remember your name now, and I don't have anything to refer back to no year book no photographs. Maybe I still have some photographs. I could look them up.

I sat beside you in school. I went to this school alone so I didn't have any friends. My inability to speak like a normal person made it harder for me to voice my thoughts for fear of embarrassment. So there you were, sitting beside me. Apart from the people around who know my name, you were the only one who'd actually talk to me. You were a great artist back then, you could draw out awesome looking dinosaurs and suns and mountains and bears. Because dad didn't give me much money for lunch I would not go to the canteen during recess. And you'd stay with me in class and you'd teach me how to play those game books. Honestly I had no idea what I was doing or what was going on with my character. All I knew was if I made a wrong move and my character died, I'd backtrack and choose the other page number. I think it was the next year when you left, but I couldn't quite remember to where. We never exchanged numbers because we had none. I hope you're doing well now, I hope you're still drawing. I remember your name. I hope you remember mine.

We were friends for about a year or so, and we were close. You were like a replacement for the one who left the year before, and I would teach you how to read game books and draw dinosaurs and suns and mountains and bears. We were like hermits, not wanting to hang out with anyone else not wanting to play the games everyone else would play. Our friendship ended quite quickly. It was good while it lasted because we'd hardly talk to anyone else and I didn't feel uncomfortable talking to you. And when the teacher asked me to call my name out, you'd do it for me because you knew it would be difficult for me to do it. But then it was brief. I think you left the year after, or were we separated when our class got broken up and combined with others. I couldn't remember much about that. But I do remember your name. I hope you're doing well too. Better than I am doing.

We'd travel to school together by bus. We became close because we stayed just a couple of blocks away from each other, and it was rare because our school was about 10 kilometers from our homes. We'd bring our bicycles out on the weekends and holidays, and cycle to the famous curry house nearby. We'd play football, basketball, buy Doraemon comics and read them in the park. Society didn't really approve of our friendship, I didn't understand why. I still don't understand now. But we remained good friends, until the day came when you were replaced. My new friends were, well, newer I guess. And slowly we lost contact and never talked anymore. We still saw each other in school until graduation, but we never noticed each other anymore. I stay on the same block as you now. Whenever I drive home at night I'd remember the friend I ditched and forgotten, the friend who cared but were not returned the same kindness. I know this apology will not get to you, and it will not make me feel any better but I'm not ready to walk up to your house and talk to you just yet. So I'm sorry, from afar.

We'd known of each other's existence but never actually got close until that year when we sat opposite each other. Then I found out you stayed near my house. And I found out your grand dad had an entire housing garden and roads named after him. But that didn't stop us from becoming friends, best friends even.That didn't get your parents too protective of their sons for hanging around people at the bottom of the food chain. Well we never knew of food chains. We knew of friendship and homework, nothing more. When we moved to secondary school, you left. Off to better schools. It was a good move, our public schools were crap anyway. I don't know where you are now, where you are staying and whether or not you are married. But every time I drive pass that corner house with the blue roof I'd remember you.

You were probably the greatest loss of my life. I can't say it was my fault for you walking out on us all, but it was my fault for now working hard enough to look for you. We spent a good 5 years as the best of friends. We were so close people often thought we were brothers.We got into trouble together, we skipped school together, we started smoking together, we went for Friday lunches at the food court below Metrojaya together. Remember the Curry Laksa? You always loved the uncle's Assam Laksa. What the fuck happened? Why the fuck did you just abandon all the years of friendship and left? You taught me how to be what I am today. You told me when I was having the biggest trouble handling my temper, that I should not close it up instead learn how to use it to my advantage. You taught me, in the midst of all the politics we were facing in the scouts, to keep calm and carry on. You taught me, even beyond my own eyes, that I was better than how I saw myself. But you were not the same. You didn't dare face your SPM results until a year after we got it. You blamed us all for causing you to consistently fail in college. Come on, prove to me what I said was wrong. Come the fuck out and tell me what I heard was crap. Two of our best friends got married last year and the first thing they did was asked me to look for you. Don't fuck around anymore. We all miss you. I miss you. You are a great friend, one I don't want to lose. Come back, dude. We grew up together, that's gotta count for something.

Friends come and go. Some stay in your heart, others you just forget ever existed. But there are a few, the few that shaped your life and made you who you are today. You learn from the mistakes you made with them, from the things they said to you, the times they stood by you when shit hit the fan.

End of Freedom in Malaysia?

2012-08-13T11:00:00.000+08:00

This is it. Somehow we knew it would reach Malaysia. Get to know the diagram above very very well. If this Act is not removed, freedom on the Internet as we know will end. No, make that THE INTERNET as we know will end.

I know this little blog is too insignificant to do anything or cause any harm to anyone, but this is all little old me have got and this would probably end too :(

Feather Fighter

2012-08-09T17:19:00.005+08:00

Source: http://www.veryicon.com/icon/png/Application/Database%20Filter/Filter%20Feather.png

Well this is awkward. I never thought I would be writing about you in here, cos you were never anyone important to me. Not because you're not good in what you do, you no doubt are the best. But so is she, and just because her sport is not in the Games doesn't make her any less respectable. I didn't care much about the way your game is played, although I've grown up playing it every now and then. It's a rich man's game and don't let anyone else tell you otherwise.

It has always been awesome, how you fell. How you kept falling, over and over again to the same man. I say awesome not because I loved watching you fail so many times, but because you immediately got back up and looked to your next meet with him. I come not as a professional national athlete, but as someone quite similar. You see, my sport did not enjoy the same equality and support as yours mainly because it is misunderstood. I did not get into your sport just to be equal and understood because I'm sure you'd agree that passion cannot accommodate stigma.

He's great and all, but that's only because he had you. Look at the sprinter. You think he's having a lot of fun? At the final moments of his run, he looked up at the time to see if he had broken his last record. That's not fun, that's a morning walk. Who is Superman without Luther? Spiderman without Carnage? Batman without the Joker? Holmes without Moriarty? Every champion needs an arch rival. This arch rival keeps him on his toes, keeps him on the edge, keeps him alive. You are this arch rival. Do not despair for although the arch rival almost always loses in the end, he is just as important as the hero himself. Because this arch rival is the only reason why the hero wakes up every morning actually feeling alive.

I know despair. I know how it feels to have fallen over and over again, fought and fought and fucking fought and can NEVER get what you want. I don't know how it feels to be doing it for the first ever medal for our country, but I know how it feels to be doing it for myself.

This set us apart from each other. This is the reason why you're there and we, mortal humans, sit here and watch as you fight valiantly. You lost again. But you won, again. Because nobody else can go this far.

If her sport was in the Games, it would be the both of you. Then maybe you'll feel a little less pressure, you'll feel a little less like puking from the nerves. But it's not, so you're all we have. You always fought like a God. Not because you were great from the beginning, but because every time you face him you are better than you were before. That is God in my eyes.

There will be no story for those who come, win, and leave. There will be no immortality for a hero without his greatest foe constantly chasing him down. You have achieved immortality. People will talk about you, about how you kept fighting and kept falling just inches behind. People know that real life is never as beautiful as the stories. Not everyone wins. But life is also never just about winning. Life is about fighting. The complacent who stay in their comfort areas and tell everyone their lives are complete, they don't know shit.

If you go on, do this for yourself. Don't carry too much weight this time. Look into his eyes and take him down, for yourself. Everything else will fall into place. We may have a holiday, we may have free food, they don't matter. What matters is you.

Don't get me wrong. I have not gotten renewed faith in you, I've not taken a liking for you and your game. Although it's nice to watch, I don't like it any more than I did before. But I know that while taking the road less traveled, I'm not easily inspired. But for this brief moment I am. The thing with people who fail too much is that they have too many reasons not to get back up after a fall. I am inspired by your relentless desire to achieve, by the little time you take on the ground, by how quickly you get yourself back up.

The Awakening

2012-08-02T09:15:00.001+08:00

The chime. The wind moves and this little chime lets lose a short burst of orchestra. Again. And again. They all sound the same, so they all bring me back to the same memory. That of the days when problems were smaller, but seemed like everything I could ever not bear. That spot where I'd always go to seek temporary escape from the confinements of social conformity. I'd smoke, I'd smoke up. Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody hears. Nobody but the select few of us.

I hear sound of crashing waves. I see the sun through palms desperately trying to block it's rays from me. Their shadows dancing on white sand. Nobody as far the eye can see. A bowstave, white, silent save the crashing waves. A hammock is a beautiful companion, a book beams you to an alternate reality. A gust of wind would ruffle the leaves above. Sometimes I think it was the rain, but it was just the wind ruffling leaves above me.

Rain is beautiful. It cleanses, it washes away the dirt. Grey clouds reflect the world's true state of mind. Tick and tock they tap on the tin roof. Tick and tock they tap on gravel. The way it is accompanied by an angry mob of storm winds, swaying trees and raging rivers. Then it would end in a calm and still lake, a mirror reflecting the sky. It smells pure, it smells like acid being removed from the world. It smells like the cleansing of evil.

Smells warm. Smells calm. Smells like the past, the times when everything you ever cared about is what to do tomorrow. Smells like a snooker center, the One Dollar coins cascading into horse machines, the crackling of clove cigarettes, of pool balls crashing onto each other. That distant buzz of a defected fluorescent lamp. Smells like that cheap whiskey you just puked out by the road side. Smells like mint and pepper in that rolled up joint. Smells like a stagnant room of old and stale cigarette smoke in the air. Smells like the soggy carpet below, never been washed.

Close your eyes. It will make you see. It will show you the true world. On the fourth floor of that car park, with a six-pack. Rewind. Turn that dial back and feel it click and click and click. As it goes, feel it tighten. When it cannot be turned any further, release that dial and see everything come to life. A complete rerun of your life, what happened and who you met. How you managed to survive every single hardship thrown at you and how you always managed to stay on course. You see with your eyes, but they are not your guide. They betray you.

Cry. Laugh. Scream. Love. Hate. Embrace existence. Embrace consciousness. Feel while you can, enjoy the good enjoy the bad. It will end soon, for all of us. This is one thing we all have that we cannot change. It doesn't matter if you're the most influential person in the world, the richest one ever lived. Touch that oil painting, look into your dog's eyes, listen to every instrument made in the history of man. See people. See yourself. See yourself in the eyes of people around you. See yourself in the eyes of your dog. Scream. Laugh. Love. Hate. Feel. Smell. Hear. See.

Crime: Have a Seat

2012-07-25T16:24:00.002+08:00

Crime rate sky-rockets here in KL. Some say it's caused by the Emergency Ordinance repeal which led to the release of some hardcore gangster into our streets and causing these havoc. Other theories may point to the long term economic imbalance that have finally led to desperate people taking desperate measures to survive (although I believe the need to rape someone is hardly considered a survival measure. There are donkeys). Some may say we are still one of the safest parts of the world, comparing to other worse-off countries.

Political or not, shit has hit the fan and I don't think the police force have the capacity to protect us right now. And I'm not the kind of person who take comfort in comparing myself with unluckier ones. Not that I'm not grateful for what I have, I find it really selfish that I need someone else to be worse-off for me to feel good about myself.

12 hours difference, we have a city - first world and all - witnessing a psycho riddling an entire cinema full of lead. And this is the part of the world where people have, on average, the best standard of living, and kids curse at their parents over getting black iPhones instead of white ones for Christmas. It wasn't even the first time something like this happened.

So on one side we have desperate people, struggling to survive, robbing and stealing (and raping) to make ends meet. And we have on the other side people so well-fed with everything they ever needed, they have nothing else to do but re-enact scenes from super hero comic strips.

Then we have the middle - Europe - where people would specifically pickpocket tourists anywhere in the streets, because they prefer not to do it to their countrymen. Imagine the irony when tourism stimulates their collapsing economy. Well at least they don't gag you and rape you and throw you in the middle of the jungle.

So what do we do? Besides the obvious - releasing the T-Virus and turning all humanity into mindless zombies. We protect ourselves because the police can't do it. Bolt the doors, lock the windows, look around you when walking, learn to scream, trust no one (especially not the ones in BMWs or equivalent), don't stop to help anyone, be home by 9PM. Don't eat alone, don't eat, don't buy new clothes, don't buy anything, bring less than RM 100 out at any given time.

If you're a virgin, have sex with someone you like before you get raped. If you own a nice car, scratch it and replace the emblem with one of an inferior brand. Insure every damned thing you can, even your dog. If you live in a guarded community, buy the guards food every now and then so they won't rob your house. Lock your house when you go out. Lock it when you go in.

Live in a jail cell. Forgo freedom. Forgo life. Set a curfew. Stock your kitchen with enough food to last you a month. Or two. Build a panic room. Build a panic room in your panic room. Build a proper toilet in that panic room.

Sell your BMW, buy a 10-year old Hyundai Accent (if you really do want to, contact me). Learn MMA. But when approached by robbers, give them everything and don't attempt to fight back. You have more to lose than they do so MMA ain't gonna do you shit.

Pray. Pray for either a Bay Harbor Butcher, a T-Virus or a police force competent enough to keep us safe. God won't save you. People will. But God won't hurt you either, people will. Move away from KL. Move away from crime. You can't because as long as there are people, there will be crime. There will be killing and raping and torturing and stealing and filling an entire cinema full of lead. There will be corruption and cronyism. There will be hate. There will be people taking comfort in knowing there are other people out there in far worse conditions than them. So to Crime, I say: Have a seat, get comfy. You're here to stay as long as humanity draws breath.

There Was Once A Famous Pomelo Tree

2012-07-20T11:13:00.002+08:00

There was once a famous pomelo tree in Section 4. It was tall, it was great, it was quite a magnificent thing to behold. We'd meet at a very young age and we'd go on to become closest of friends. I jest when I said you were like the pomelo tree, never being able to grow taller than you already were. I jest a lot, whenever I can speak fluently without choking over every other word.

It was magnificent that the pomelo tree looked rather tall back then, with those big leaves. Not many leaves, but those still on the tree were big. Another reason why I kept relating the tree to you. But you took me for who I am, as I did for who you are. We made the best of our friendship with however little we had. It seems so that whenever the rain fell and the night felt bleakest, you were there. I know we all have our own problems to deal with and we can't always be there for each other. But the fact that you were always there comforted me.

It was funny now that I recall, I have never seen that pomelo tree bear fruit. It was either that or you never bothered to share the works of your tree with us. We'd sit in a coffee shop with the table full of empty glasses, comparing our dream cars and analyzing our future. We'd often laugh about how super cars are a complete waste to most people because they are either too old or too stupid to drive them like how they should be driven. We'd talk about how it would be like if we were rich, the amount of people we would piss off. And then we always agree that God is fair to keep us at the bottom of the food chain. "Wipe your face, you're sweating."

The good thing about it is that we will always walk from school to that little bus stop and wait for the bus. And we'd stand behind that telephone booth, right in front of the police station, smoking. The good thing about it is that we can sit around all day without having to do anything or spend any money, and still be able to have fun.

The pomelo tree is gone now. It signified your past, it is where you were from. It's passing is not a loss, but progress. You have learnt from what you did and where you came from, and you are preparing for a future that will allow the next generation to do the same. By letting the pomelo tree go, you are turning a new leaf, preparing for the next step in your life.

There was once a famous pomelo tree in Section 4, the tree that was our roots. You are embarking on your next journey now, and the only thing I can hope is that we can still be a part of it. Because this friendship is not of convenience or of similar interest. This is a friendship of deep understanding, and we both would agree that no money in the world can buy this kind of relationship.

I'm glad for what happened, for who I met. I'm glad to have met you, to have met that once famous pomelo tree, to have met everyone else strung around this web of brotherhood.