f./-\.|.t.3.|2

Why do we always need an objective for something? Is there really need of purpose for every action that we take?
I asked Mae to go out with Han and me today and she asked "What's the objective?"
I don't really get it. For me, not staying at home is a good enough objective. Hanging out with friends is an even better one.
Which led me to think. Isn't a meaningless life some how more meaningful? Would you rather wake up everyday day knowing everything that will happen in that day and the reason it happens?
Where's the element of surprise in it? Are you content with a present that wrapped in transparent plastic? I'd much rather have my plastic wrapped in layers and layers of newspaper or any waste paper that could conceal its true identity from me.
Some times, we really need to stop seeking the truth and just take it as it comes. Who knows, it might even bring you on the greatest journey of your life. I spend a lot of time seriously thinking where I would be 10 years from now, and this is kind of depressing because there's a huge octopus on my head that's constantly telling me I won't ever end up where I really wana be. Doesn't this cat and mouse game of searching for one truth and end up having to chase another truth really bother you? Why look so far ahead when you don't even know if you'll still be breathing tomorrow?
This is not a depressed post, or another one of those "I think I'm a big mess up" post. I'm just asking everybody to relax once in a while and breathe. The roses are so pretty for a reason. Look and love. We don't need a reason to continue our existence, do we? If we're already here, let's just make sure our presence does not cause misery to others.
With that, I think I should dedicate this post to my ex-classmate who passed away last year.

ENOZ

Don't you think CSI is a tad bit perculiar?
You guys know what CSI is right? I mean everybody watches CSI at least once in a very long while. Have you noticed how every single episode they'll be able to solve any mystery thrown to them? An what's even more amazing is that they always ALWAYS find every piece of evidence at the crime scene and on many occasion, off the crime scene. I'm always left dumb-founded and have to constantly remind myself it's just a show. Which reminds me.... I have to return Slur's crapy show to her.....
And another perculiar thing about CSI is that they NEVER find something that might mislead them. It's like every single fact / evidence / witness they find further intensifies the suspense and / or leads them to the culprit. Life isn't like that, and I offer myself as the first example.
If someone, let's say me, died in my house, even the best CSI team will be left running around chasing wild goose and flying donkeys. My whole house is like a genetic maze constructed to fool anybody who dares to delve too deep. The first thing these geniuses will find are my fingernails hidden under plants and in flower pots. This will make them wonder if I was in a rough struggle which resulted in broken nails and they might even send these nail for genetic fingerprinting! When in fact the answer is as simple as me believing we should return all nutrients to the soil so my tendency to burry things. But my mom doesn't enjoy me "re-decorating" her garden so I have to do this secretly and hence the scattered nails here and there after I cut 'em. I always take extra care to use dry leaves to cover my nails to prevent her from finding them. Smart, right?
And then there's the puzzle of the notes and anagrams. Again, me the victim has this bad habit of just writing anything that I'm thinking about on whatever paper I can find with whatever stationery I can find. So if you look through the post-its and edges of the newspaper and magazines in my house, you'll find a lot of meaningless words and doodles and phrases. But to the wondering mind, it might as well be a secret code to invade Iraq at noon tomorrow. Then there are all those numbers that might or might not be the phone number of my murderer (still assuming I was killed), of the random names here and there that might be that of my killer's! In case you're wondering, I just write these names down to see if they look as cool as they sound. And recently, I've decided that the coolest guy-name is Chad and the coolest girl-name is Veronica.
But then again, if you hired the CSI: Miami to solve my murder they would probably skilfully dodge any clue that might mislead them without even trying! And instead of finding cut finger nails in flower pots and random pieces of messages around the house, they'll probably find a microscopic droplet of blood on the coconut tree behind my house that belongs to the perpetrator which was a result of him plucking a coconut to chill out after the tiresome task of murdering me.
I suggest the Malaysian government hire these amazing heroes to solve the mystery of the bocor-ness.

Blogaria

Slur asked me to make a list of what going on (or off) in my life to help cope with my depression but I never really got to that. So I started wondering why, and then I wondered more "why"s to a lot of other stuffs and remembered a time when my blogs used to be about my life, sort of like a diary. And then it just stopped being so. It became boring random thoughts that I doubt anybody is interested in and I stopped keeping track of what I do. So this post is in celebration of life and maintaining it.
What did I do recently....
Oh, I think I sort of out-did myself today. Yesterday I was telling Mae that I have so many things I need or want to do and I'm bored out of my bones 90% of the time yet I never seem to find the time to do what matters. And today, I've done about 70% of those buggers!
I cut my hair. It looked like the crown of the pineapple when they first finished and used a heck load of I-dunno-whats on my hair but now that I've left it au-natural~ I look like a 4 year old neat and tidy mama's boy. Would post a picture of it if I weren't so lazy to go take my camera.
And I also FINALLY renewed my gym membership. The quest of teng-tengness resumes! For all of you who don't know what The Ultimate Pursuit of The Teng means, it's a stupid phrase coined by Han. He started it as a joke (and still is one) saying after we finish out A-Level exams, he would join a gym and achieve the teng-tengness within one month. Teng-teng in Hokkien means "hard" or something right? But he actually said that cause we were in Gurney Plaza at that time and as we walked pass a metal rubbish bin, he knocked against it and said that's what his butt is going to sound like soon. But last time I checked, he hasn't signed up at any gym, nor has he actively participated in any sports what so ever.
As for finding a job.... YES! I haven't given up yet despite my first failure. Well, my mom's friend told me there's a kindergarten nearby that's looking for a teacher to teach the primary school kids they take care of and I'm considering that because I think teaching tuition is great but I hate kids so it's a toughie. And while I was at the gym just now, I saw a notice that said "Vacancy: Admin and gym instructer needed". Hell yeah~! I was thinking to myself last night that I'd be suitable for a sporty job and mother of all moms, here it is! But I wonder how the wage is. Plus the lady there said it includes cleaning the machines and teaching people how to work out. The second part, no problemo~. The first...... Um.... Considering. And Han asked me to go interview with him to work as a waitress at Chilis. The pay is pretty good but waitress again? Haha.
Now, all I have left on my to-do list is:
Watch all the pirated DVDs I have at home.
Buy and conduct a Desperate Housewives marathon.
Stop considering about getting a job and actually get one.
Find somewhere to learn Japanese.
Bug my mom into finally teaching me how to read and write Burmese.
(This list seems a bit longer than I thought it is...)
Finish reading all the lovely novels I have at home.
Buy more novels and repeat previous step.
Buy new basketball shoes.
Start and finish another series of manga collection.

OK, that is seriously a lot longer than I imagined and there's a lot more where that came from.... So I think I should just enter a state of denial about it....
Oh yeah, and while I was wondering all the "why"s just now, I thought of something. The western culture have pasta, we have noodle. They have bread, we have those bunny-like pink rice buns. They have salad, we have ulam. They have wine, we have sake. And the list goes on but how come they have cheese but we don't have anything in reply?
Well, I asked my mom that and she replied "Who says? We have tofu!"
Yeah, nice and healthy tofu (that tastes bad) against rich and savoury cheese... Very matching.

Secrets

I've got a secret to tell. But the person I wanna tell it to will be terrified to hear it. The person who listens to it without judging can't help me overcome it. The people who can help can not hear it. What should I do?
I got myself a job today. It started at 10am. By 3pm I was pretty sure I wanted to quit. Now, I definitely am going to. And today's job has also sent me into a greater depression. I'm incompetent. I can't stand the pressure of having to serve others. It sucks!!!! Like totally absolutely sucks!! Let me born as someone equal to Paris Hilton in the next life, PLEASE!
Now, will you please hear my secret? I need to tell it. Will you listen?

New Paos Available!

OK, here's the deal. I'm looking for a worker to clean my room up. You know, do the chores, tidy my bed and arrange my cute cuddly soft toys in the correct order and everything. And here's the best part. I'll let you pay me to do that job!
Does this sound right to you? Cause if it doesn't, join the club.
I was in Cameron Lowland recently and everyone with at least half a brain and lives in Malaysia knows it's famous for all the (disgusting mutated ugly) strawberries. Yes, I don't like strawberries, bite me. I hate the big ones for looking so fake and the small ones for being sour. If I have to eat anything red, I'll stick to watermelons.
Back to my point, Cameron is littered with dozens of strawberry farms and the newest business gimmick seems to be this: "Self-plucking Farm". First point, it the farm a robotic thing of the future that plucks itself? Does it scratch itself when it's itchy? But putting the bad English aside, self-plucking. Hmm~ does this sound familiar?
Oh YES! Idiots are PAYING to pluck the strawberries themselves! It's like saying "Here's 50. I'll wash your toilet for you, k?" It's just plain stupid. Why would anybody wanna pay someone else so he can do the other person's job?! They're helping the farm owners clear out the farms and then pay them for allowing them to do him a favor. Do you stil agree that it's stupid? Please say you do before I konk your head with a giant plastic cactus.
Oh, the trip to Cameron has also enlightened me on other stuffs. I hate cactuses... is that how you spell the plural form? Anyway, cactuses / cacti or whatever, I hate them. While at a place called Cactus Valley, I say this awesome-ly and breath-takingly beautiful flower and I don't know if it's a mental condition or what but everytime I see pretty flowers, I have a fatal attraction to it's petals and this unsurpressible urge to molest the petals arises. So that day, I decided to give in and stretch over a few barriers to touch the flower. Thinking back, all the man-made barriers were obvious signs to ward off trespassers and I'm really stupid aren't I?
Anyway, unfortunately, the flower was hidden behind a cactus. Oh, here's a fact Slur doesn't know yet. The pweetiiee~ flower was hidden behind a gigantic PLASTIC cactus (=.="). Anyway... the end of the story is, as I was trying to stick my fat hands through to the flower, I lost my footing, slipped and the monster behemoth aka the plastic cactus poked me! Oh ye foul beast!
We (me and parents) drove to Cameron for my dad's conference and since the roads there were pretty easy to navigate, I drove around a bit and realised this: In Cameron, you can park anywhere anytime regardless of any line on the road. I bet Farhan will be thinking "If I lived in Cameron I could have saved a lot of money on parking tickets!"
And here's another fact I learned. I'm proud to be a Penangite.
While driving there, since it was all hilly and stuff (duh~ it's a gunung for god's sake) some cars can't really go that fast and started congesting the ONE AND ONLY road up. Yup, in Cameron, there's only one single main road and that's it. Anyway, it started blocking the traffic up and most people were patient and just toiled behind the slow one since the roads were narrow. Notice I used the word "most"... Now here comes the Penangite boleh part. While other cars were obediently following the extremely slow bus making its way uphill, 4 cars overtook it very violently. One car had a 'W' number plate, and the other 3 were Penang plates.... Oh, maybe I should add that my dad was one of those reckless impatient drivers that gives KL and PG the notorious road bully fame.
Anyway, I hate STRAWBERRIES!!

The Bubble Has Burst

There's a sadness in this life that you can't even shed a tear for.
As the last two papers of the exam draws closer, the joy of finally attaining the long sought-after freedom is overwhelmed by the sorrow of another separation. The days in my dreams where we laugh in each other's company is wavering in the distance. This is not as I envisioned it to be. I wanted for us to be rid of these exams and find happiness in each other's company.
How ironic that the thing we were trying to outlive was the very glue that held us together. The final bond, the last bridge of our lives. In another 11 days, we will have nothing else between us. We'll no longer be classmates nor college friends. Who am I kidding? I came here knowing it will never last. Time is too cruel to allow us joy. We met as strangers, and a few years from now, we'll return to where it started. The 18 months between us isn't strong enough to withstand the thousand of miles the burden of growing up will put upon us.
We've bid farewell to so many people so many times that another goodbye won't change a thing. What is 18 months compared to the rest of our lives? The ratio is insignificant. I don't care anymore. Why can't I be an island?
He who is unable to live in society, or has no need because he is sufficient for himself, must be either a beast or a god.
-Aristotle
So let me be a beast. I don't want to lose another part of me to the bank called "Memory". How can the rest of you not be broken by the future? The interest rate they're paying is too low for us to tolerate this despair.
There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart's desire. The other, to gain it.
-George Bernard Shaw
I've suffered the first tragedy. Now give me the remainder of it.
This post is too depressing to be published, but isn't life just another bed of nails? Thorn in your side... Now let go.