I FREAKING LOVE MY JOB.

 If anything, life has gifted me a clock which ticks twice as fast as the other clocks in the world and gives me half the time to appreciate every second. 

If only things could go sloer, if only the weather would change in a more desired pace, if ony the moon would emerge a bit later, if only my heart could beat in a more relaxed tempo. 

As with most people, I do think that life is too short to be filled with complaints and hardwork. We never know what is going to happen and it's in our hands to make the best of what we have, to enjoy every single moment to the best we know, right? 

Wrong. 

Life isn't easy. It's fucking difficult. You wake up everyday thinking about taxes, bills, gifts, credit card payments, the fucking mortgage. You think about the job you have at hand, how miserable the next 24 hours can be if you just decide to leave it alone. You know how great it feels to procrastinate but also (unfortunately) have the knowledge of how shitty it can be at the end of that cycle. And all these thoughts lead to stress and stress leads to pain and pain leads to? 

The desire to eliminate stress which happens to be on top of the list of unlikeable feelings. 

Well, this desire then translates to having more time and money and in order to have more time and money, we push ourselves to the point of breaking, to maximise gains with the sheer hope of not having to do whatever we are doing currently. We stretch our Ringgit and take less on our plate. We go through drudgery, executing every daunting task hauled in our direction. 

Sometimes, I wish I had the time to just sit back, relax, and wrap my mind around what I have achieved It's not much, but it's something I can be proud of. Having my ass kicked around the clock 24/7 has certainly put me somewhere in the social class which isn't exactly too bad. 

We chase after freedom, after time and money, but what are we actually doing? We're using time and money in the pursuit of more time and money. Yes, you can read that again. Doesn't it seem ironic that we are depleting our time and monetary sources in this journey of success? These resources could be saved up and we mightn't have the need for more of it? No? 

No. 

Human beings are troublesome creatures. Human beings are never thankful enough. We don't appreciate what we have. Heck, we hate what we have and we long for things out of our reach. Do you want that Honda City you've always dreamed of? Chances are you might want to possess a BMW more. And what happens to a BMW owner? He'll definitely despise and scoff at the thought of owning another similar ride and go for something else. We humans are fucking disappointing. We've evolved millions of years just to be an ungrateful race of a creature. 

So what if we were all grateful? Would we be happy? Would we all be laid back and deliver less than what is expected of us? We wouldn't have athletes with near superhuman abilities, we wouldn't have groundbreaking discoveries, we wouldn't have millionaires, we wouldn't have good food. 

Or would we still have them? 

At the end of the day, as ungrateful bastards, we always want more time, more money, more love, and that is certainly fine. I do complain about my lack of time and money but after all the hissing and snapping, I get back to the wheel and do my fucking job. Really, that's all there is to this bitch of a post. It's a rant, it's a complaint, but most importantly, while this can only be done in my free time, it's a show-off of my vacation. 

Happy holidays everyone. Goodnight. 

想吶喊


卻無聲

頑強;我很頑強

來了來了


2月17

新的戰爭,新的考驗

負擔增加智慧也跟只增加

不,並沒變聰明了
只是知道
有哪些東西不能夠
不能夠
不能夠

2月17

保持良好狀態
不戰鬥
迎接戰鬥

一百號

右手邊一杯一百號
桌前一點肉乾 
左手邊有黃莉餅 

過年! 

過年叻,不適應該很開心的嗎? 

過年叻。 

過年叻! 
一年一度叻!

 不,不興奮。 
看著四周圍一切 
灰色 
彩虹永遠都掛在天邊未曾在我的眼 
前 

怎麼去衡量幸福,喜樂,開心我已經 
不會了 
也 
無所謂了 
開心不開心日子也是這樣過 
興奮不興奮也是在新年時笑著跟大家說“啊,恭喜發財啊!” 
你又不知道我最後那一句“啊”是帶著一點 
歎聲 

啊 

累啊

Hikayat Telur Ayam

Once upon a time, there was a male chicken, a cock. He was very lonely living in his own coop and got tired of it. Every morning, he got up and walked slowly towards the top of the roof of the house and called everyone to wake up, stirring grumbles and moans. After waking the whole wide world up, he would hang his head on one side, and slowly walk back down to his coop and sulk. Somehow, his master noticed this strange and sad behaviour of his cock. He went over to his cock and petted him, saying, "Don't worry, you'll find your partner and you'll breed, someday." He held his cock by his hand and stroked him gently, putting it in a comfortable situation. He tidied his cock's nest, giving it a tidy place of rest. The cock slept in his arms that day. The next morning, the cock woke up as usual and did his routine wake-up call. As promised, his master came back with a female chicken and gave the female to his cock. His cock got overjoyed and stood up and said a loud "Hello!" to this chicken. As it was a tradition for all cocks, this one spat at the ground to welcome her. They mated, and weeks later, the hen was sitting on a clutch of eggs, waiting for them to crack out. One day, the first egg, or telur, hatched. The cock and the hen were elated, and called this chick: "Water Squirter" So, Water Squirter made his way to teen-hood. He had an amazing childhood. There was once when Water Squirter ran in his classroom and knocked another chick over, causing that chick to bleed. Instead of apologizing, he laughed at her and called her a "Bleeding Chick". The class teacher got to know of it and got very mad. However, after hearing what he called the injured chick, the teacher laughed with the others as well, causing Bleeding Chick to enter a mental asylum. In his teen life, Water Squirter was already a little cock who knew how to rock. He had his band members go with him everywhere all the time. They had gigs around the state and had fun with party girls all the time. He was one drunk cock. On the other hand, his studies were bad as hell. He scored nearly all "F"s and never got anywhere near a "Pass", all the time. Water Squirter was actually brilliant, but he was just too lazy to do his work and study his books. 20 years on, Water Squirter was already a grown up and did not stick with his band members any more. He knew he needed a stable life which can actually breed income. He was already thinking of setting up a stable family and live a comfortable life. He entered the workforce as a factory worker. However, as his nature is being lazy, he didn't really excel in productivity, the hard way. He could never produce as much as the other workers could, on the conveyor belt. There was one day when he went up to his supervisor and told him of a great way to improve the factory's productivity. His supervisor did not pay any attention to this tiny worker and as a response to that, Water Squirter showed the supervisor a picture of his wife and children, in black and white. The supervisor got afraid and agreed to follow whatever this chicken said. Of course, Water Squirter had no intention of killing his family. He just took the photo from Facebook, which was uploaded blindly by the supervisor's son. The supervisor gave all credit to Water Squirter, as instructed, and Water Squirter got a great raise and was promoted to General Manager of the factory. From then onward, he came up with more and more cheap but brilliant ideas, and became C.E.O of the company. On his desk were the initials. "S.Water; C.E.O" He was very proud of his achievements and decided to go back to his village to pay his old parents a visit. He packed his belongings, bought expensive shirts and pre-made nests, and hopped onto his Red Ferrari and drove all the way back to his village. From the urban area of his workplace to the small and muddy village of his birthplace, his drive became more and more difficult. Tar roads were reduced to single-layered roads, single-layered roads were reduced to laterite, and laterire were reduced to mud. Metal and glass cased buildings became brick houses, brick houses became stone houses, stone houses became straw houses, and straw houses became mud houses. Everything seemed to deteriorate on his way back from the city to the village. There was one point where his low Ferrari could not go any further because of the bumpy road. Sighing, S.Water had to get down from his supercar and walk. He walked and walked, and this went on for hours. He was wearing his tuxedo and top hat at first. Due to the scorching heat, he took off his top hat, and later took off his tuxedo. The sun glared even brighter, he had to take off his shirt. The road became more and more muddy, and he had to take off his shoes and stockings. He changed into short pants for a more comfortable walk. Further on, the rain soaked his pants and dirtied it; he had to take it off, and he walked only in his boxers. By then, we had a pile of clothing in his hands, and those were quite heavy. S.Water threw all of them by the side, and continued his walk. After about 5 hours of walking, he finally reached his hut. His old hut. He saw his hut from afar, about 100 metres away. His face lit up as he saw his parents waving at him with their old looks on their faces and beaks. He ran towards them, passing trees and lush greenery. He even flapped a little and got surprised he still knew how to fly a bit. He ran and he flapped his wings, he ran and he flapped his wings, and he ran and he flapped his wings. His house was just 50 metres away now, and he had to get over to the other side as the house was just beside the road. S.Water crossed the road. He looked left, and he looked right. He remembered the old story and the legend "The Chicken Never Crosses The Road". S.Water got out of his house by hopping onto a truck which was passing that day, so actually, he had never crossed the road. Neither had his parents. His parents got very worried. His father, the cock, looked at his wife slowly, and his wife turned to look at him as well. Tears rolled down the hen's face, and they looked at each other, sadly. The hen slowly shook her head with tears in her eyes, and the cock nodded at her, telling her, "He can do it." They clutched their wings together. h S.Water looked at his parents, and stuck his chest out. He looked left, and he looked right, and repeated this for about 20 times. He made sure there were no more cars, and he decided: He will cross the road, now. With one small step, he put his right leg out. Then his left. He continued with his third. Slowly but surely, he made sure his pace made progress, and walked steadily. He was halfway across. He continued walking. He tried. He told himself, he could do it. He scored around 60% of the road when suddenly, a dog barked at him. It was a Rottweiler, the owner's dog. The Rottweiler barked and dashed towards S.Water. He looked at the dog in disbelief and in fear, he ran towards the other side. He covered 70% of the road. The dog was still rushing towards it. He started flapping his wings. He covered 80% of the road. The dog was near S.Water now. The Rottweiler opened his mouth, showed its meat-eating razor sharp teeth, and leaped towards S.Water. He got extremely afraid, and rushed towards the side of the road. He already had 95% of the road crossed but by that time, the dog was in the air, centimetres from having the chicken in his mouth. In extreme fear and excitement, S.Water ran towards the wrong direction. Instead of crossing the road, he was then running ALONG the road. His only goal at that time was to get away from the hungry dog and ran towards a seemingly endless road. Then, he heard a loud honk. A truck was coming. It was at high speed and did not have time to brake. The truck ran into the chicken, and the dog. S.Water, was murdered on the street, in front of his house, semi-naked. This story was passed on by this chicken's siblings to their sons and grandsons, and the legend that says "The Chicken Never Crosses The Road", still remains. However, this story turned to be a new legend. "S.Water; The Chicken Who Nearly Crossed The Road." Alpha and Omega are destined; what's in between isn't.

Another Day: Another Day

When men started talking,
They talked about the trees.
How they swayed like men,
How they whispered in the wind.

When men started talking,
They talked about the wind.
How it glides through rough lands,
How it brings coolness to men.

When men started talking,
They talked about the seas.
How they send men away,
And see not their return.

When men started talking,
They talked about the stars.
How brightly they lit,
How they brought men back to earth.

When we started talking,
We talked about our destiny.
How far it can bring us,
How testing to our limits it can be.

When we started talking,
We talked about our future.
How it can shape our careers,
How profitable it can be of having a bright one.

When we started talking,
We talked about our mid life.
How crisis would take over,
How steadily can we conquer it.

When we started talking,
We talked about death.
How permanently we would be removed from Earth,
How deep shall we be buried under.

But we never talk about parting.
Nor forgetting.
Nor splitting.
Nor singling.

When we started talking,
We knew we would stop.
To start doing,
To start moving.

When we start moving,
We will know we would stop.
To start stopping,
To stop continuing.

But I don't know when to stop this friendship.
But I don't know when to start my own life.
But I don't know when to say goodbye.
But I don't know when will I say "Hey, its been a while!"

English and its bones.

Recently, I have come to realize the importance of writing and speaking correct English. Its just like every other thing, this has its reasons, too.

Well for the past year or so, I have been constantly corrected by my friend, Jacky, on matters of grammar and spelling. I tend to let him read my essays after I have penned it and he'll point out the errors I have made. Of course, I might feel a little depressed of how I err for those mistakes which I made are but simple ones. I want to converse in English, perfectly. That's one of my biggest goals in the field of English.

Why am I so obsessed with the language? Partly its because its the first language I learned, and also its because I will be studying all about it later on in the university. TESL (Teaching English as a Second Language ) will be the course I take and that's why I want to perfect my skills and bring them to a higher level.

Each time Jacky reminds me of the course that I'm taking, (and the fact that I will be a Teslian later on ) makes me want to upgrade my level of English more. I know I was better before this, but the lack of reading for these past months has really deteriorated my skills. I'm not as eloquent as I used to be, too.

I guess there's always a way to improve our language, and however uninterested I am in the political subterfuge in Malaysia, it seems that the best reading materials come from these news. The ups and downs of political parties, cheating leaders and such, these are very uninteresting pieces of news, but I will have to say, they provide the most useful information for our daily lives, social skills, and most importantly, our language.

I'm not writing any further, for my vocab and patience have their limits. With that, I wish all Malaysians a healthy reading lifestyle.

if there's nothing you can do about it, try doing nothing and let it come; for natural is the way of living