D-Day, July 2009

Nothing much left to write. All seems hopeless and I am surprisingly optimistic. Yes, I am surprised myself. With what I have now, there is no way I can handle the coming exams. The only thing I keep telling myself that all will be alright is because I have 1 week left to wrap up all the crap I have left out.

I look at the papers, I look at the things written on it, and I honestly do not know what am I looking for. Maybe I am looking for some clues, some answers, some miracles even... because whatever that is written on those revision papers are definitely not knowledge.

What good is knowledge when you can't use them?

... yet the pages beckons.

Where has it gone?

I didn't remember the first 3 years of my life after I was born. No, not even a single image that exists in my head that I can confirm. Starting from the age of four, things started to get a little clearerl; there are certain events I can recall from actually being a toddler. Even so, I suspect some of these memories are pieces of what's left of my toddler days. I think that there are some two to three year old events I have mistakenly thought they have happened at the age of four. Oh well, where's the line that distinguishes between age when we're kids that young except for birthday cakes and the numbers of candles on it? When I was a kid, everything seemed huge and everywhere with a space big enough for me to fit in is a playground. Time was indefinite, that is... until my first social duty kicks in; School.

I remember there was this once I still didn't know how to count, I was probably four (kids nowadays can do division at six, talk about what the f**k.) I was trying to make sense out of the ritual of tearing off calender pages at every 'month'. I didn't know what month and year was, but I was sure as hell trying to crack my head just to figure out the difference. That was just a one off experience when I was in my dad's old car on the way to pick up my mom from her work.

The good old days, when I'm still a good kid listening to whatever he says. I just remembered that I will always say yes to going out with my parents, or even just with one of them whenever the situation arise. I was almost too eager to say yes to begin with. The night drives when in his car was fun, it was a journey to look forward to. To see my mom for the first time in the day (it was at night though...), and then to go home together. I would look for things to do, because I sure as hell couldn't appreciate musics playing in the car radio back then. That was also the first time my fascination for the world beyond the sky grew. Stars were so captivating, and whatever that remains out there. You see, back then in the 1980s, KL wasn't half as bright as it is now during night time. You could still see the stars clearly, and the sky is filled with them. Almost too beautiful. My stupidity kicked in when I blurted out to my dad in the car "WHY IS THE MOON FOLLOWING US?!" I never get to find out why until many years later.

In retrospect, I regret the day I learn to say no. Saying no to him when he said he's going out to pick up my mom, to go to places. I thought saying that would mean I was growing up, at least, to be not as dependent on my parents. What a fool, I clearly misinterpreted things back then. I'm not sure now that the first time I said that, I may have caused some hurt. Was I not filial? I sure hope not. I'm pretty sure now that if I had not say no, I'd have more fond memories of them now, especially my mother's. Y'know the days when Subang Parade was all the hype back then? I wish it still is now.

Two decades later, I'm an adult now, and my family has been through much. Almost too much. The past few years came and passed too fast, as compared to the days when I was four, a month seemed like a year. Right now a month seemed like a week. I guess it's because we simply have too much on our plate, too many things to do, too many things to think, to plan about... and we hardly have anytime ourselves, to do things we want to do. I remember reading this somewhere, that time is a mischievous little kid; when we are having fun, when we are enjoying ourselves, it would run away from us, steal our time away, but when we are having a hard time, being bored, it would not go away, and it seemed like these time would linger on forever.

Come to think of it now, I didn't realise how much I love my younger brothers. Oh well, I gotta stop ranting now. Time to work.

The Saturday after Good Friday.

Bitter Employee's Log:

3.20 PM: Just started on my work and it's half done. Boy, if that isn't efficiency I don't know what is. Wasting time and being inefficient are completely different. At least they are in my books. If I were to complete the work the moment I step into the office, I'd have the piles of papers/documents/files on my desk as my pillow. Shush.

Earlier, I was browsing around. I must admit, I'm a rather curious person. Apart from Wikipedia and mangas, I've been stumbling upon blogs (I use the word 'stumbling' because I literally did stumble upon the blogs without the intention of me looking for it in the first place... that's what stumble is, right?) of people I know, or knew. The line is shoddy nowadays, but pay no heed to it, for I do not really give a damn. They provide good entertainment to pass time, as well as a method of catching up. What? What are you talking about? Invasion of privacy? It's a blog. I'm such a gossip? It's a blog! I read whatever the hell they wrote!

Still, after reading the latest blog I found, I'm somewhat depressed. What's with people constantly wallowing themselves in pity and sorrow (read: Emo). I know life sucks, your lover left you for a wealthier dude, or your lover turns out to be a homo (okay the last one really do suck), but is there not a point to it? Life is such, no? I mean I doubt 'life' itself personally see to it that you are supposed to be a born loser... if you are a loser then it's because you really are one. Not because of what others did to you or what they didn't do for you, it's you who failed to act when you should have acted, and the proper course of action that was ought to be taken.

I'm by no means a better person. I'm probably condemned right now for being so generic about losers (and emos). Tho I must admit (shamelessly and rightfully so) that I am a much happier person than the average person. Yes! Happier-than-thou.

Here's a tip, if you can't get what you want, then maybe you ought to set the standard bar somewhat lower. You could just scrape through by living your life in a lie. No harm done hey. Or... you could keep up with the rate you're going and attempt suicide by stabbing yourself with the pen (or pencils or any such other sharp objects) and at the same time hope you really do kill yourself, that... or your selfless (read: selfish) and honorable (read: not-so) act of self mutilation would warrant a surge of emotion by your aspiring (read: sarcasm) and prospective (read: sarcasm & I hope not) lover / soulmate for life strong enough for him/her to want to care for you and all your stab wounds.

I have little to no respect to those who would use their own lives to threaten someone else into giving in into their demands.

Similarly, to those who likes to drown themselves with sorrow and get high on anti-depressants, for whatever reasons (disclaimer: except those who, for some exceptional case really deserves to be fed with such medical remedies recommended by certified/license practitioners, and regardless of the fact that I am still somewhat reserved and sceptical to the same.) , or just because, you're not too far away from those "I-WILL-SHOOT-MYSELF-IN-THE-BALLS-IF-YOU-DON'T-GO-OUT-WITH-ME!" people. I almost forgot about those people who have good looks, good health (read: not ugly, not dying tho the latter is actually a matter of time/latency) but constantly whines about how life is unfair and a bitch... and those who weighs 120pounds but claims to be fat and overweight, please buy a nailgun and shoot yourself repeatedly in the face ( Warning! Sarcasm! Please, it's a joke, don't take it seriously although if you do happen to be one of those people as mentioned, it would be recommended that you actually do it, I do hope no one dies from reading this.)

In contrast, to those who do not have the financial luxury to afford themselves with 'medicines', but who are in a better position to consume such 'medicines' aka people who are disabled, but doing their very best to have a positive outlook in life, and constantly wearing a genuine smile on their face and to be able to come to terms with their loss, they are epic and worthy to be emulated.

"I have alot of sad memories, I'm miserable to live this life/ spend this night alone, yadda yadda yadda"... and you're full of shit too.

Good Friday. TFGIFF

First, SCREW YOU FRIDAY! Not only I have to work tomorrow, but knowing that for some others in other parts of this world are having today off AS OF RIGHT seriously makes me rants at the injustice of it all.

Second, Dom, my colleague is in one of those days where he seems wackier than usual. Come to think of it, wacky isn't such a good term. He reminds me of patients in a mental health institution, I mean, when someone says "People fear me as much as they fear diarrhea.", you know something is wrong somewhere. Probably some screws are loose, but knowing him for about half a year, I'd say he doesn't have much screws to keep his mind sane in the first place.

He is no doubt a fun person, that and he subsequently wished for a diarrhea.

Oh, and I have just received news yesterday that the CLP schedule is out and payment for the examination is due. The D-day is set on 13th July. That literally translates to "You're screwed". No exaggeration here. I wonder what sort of interference is in store for me to deter me from taking the exam this year.

On other news, it seems that streamyx has finally repaired the connection to international sites such as Hong Kong and the USA, either they did or someone else. The details matters little, as far as I am concerned. I'm just glad youtube and my WoW connection isn't moving like a brittle-boned 90 year old woman.

Now, I'm at work, trying to finish up my work. At least, for the more important parts of it, I'm a quarter away before I can hand them up. For the less significant ones, screw it, they can wait a little more while I am dealing with this big one. Lunch time is two hours away.

Speaking of which, what am I gonna have for lunch? That question never fails to provide some little humour and entertainment in my department.

Since I am working tomorrow when no one else in the department is, I'll be studying for the exam of my life (and hopefully I can clear it so I can say baibai to my current hostile working environment, somewhat). Why I say so is because while your safety in the office is pretty much safe, your mental health is significantly at risk. (Please refer to my statements in the above; my colleague).

Before fast forwarding to tomorrow, chaffeur duty awaits right after work. I sure hope she gets back to her office before I reach or I'm gonna flip.

Only in Asia they make you wake up at 5, reach work at 6 and releases you from work at 7 when it is expressly stipulated in the letter of offer aka 'sell-your-soul-to-the-devil contract', that you're supposed to work from 8:30 to 5:30, on Fridays.

To the readers out there (highly unlikely) who possess a decent IR/Employment law knowledge (even more unlikely), can the employer make an employee stay behind for more work against his or her will without any considerations? As far as I know, executive status employees are not elligible for overtime payments.

Then again, what is there to argue? I'd think if this matter is to be brought up to the Industrial Courts, it would still be a no brainer case i.e. the employee would win the suit. Boss wants their staff to be punctual on meetings, or to come into office on time for that matter, but wouldn't let them go home on time. Lousy double standards.

Much to my dismay nonetheless, Malaysians in general, are very timid people. Most of the working class are I think. Heck, I am one too since I'm still dependent on the payroll however meagre it is. No one would be bothered enough to stand up and fight for their rights if it means trouble despite however bright the possibility of them winning their fight. The braver ones become policitians. The even braver ones starts robbing people under the broad daylight.

What gives? srsly.

the roads we walk

"Tonight I lack the strength to even move,

When you walked, now watch me die..."

---

News of how the recent economic crisis is comparable, if not worse than the 1930s Great Depression is worrying, especially towards those who have faced such difficult times may find a dreadful sense of familarity multiplied by a few times over.

For us rookies earning at the minimum wage scale, it probably didn't matter as much. The root cause for this episode of turmoil is credit abuse, arguably the very same reason for the Great Depression some 7-8 decades back. I'm no economic guru, but it does occur to me that if we have failed to learn from back then, when will we ever learn? Or we did learn, but the transitions between the generations (save for the turbulent era marred by the world wars) have effectively diminished the need to learn from the lessons that we ought to have learned and preserved?

---

"For I know this is harder for you,

For love has let you down..."

---

Further news on the economy, a country went bankrupt, and governments around the world are announcing stimulant packages and bailout plans, injecting billions of dollars into the economy with the objective to 'stimulate' the economy and to save corporates from crashing down. This move is greeted with little enthusiasm, probably with as much enthusiasm of a cleaner looking forward to cleaning toilets, and with even less optimism. Nevertheless, private corporate entities saved by the government throughout the said means are now effectively state owned.

---

"yeah C'mon

I am not alone..."

---

Economic wise, I'm sure the world will change, for the better or worse.

---

"The road ahead is lined with broken dreams,

So walk, yeah walk on by

And I failed to give you everything you need,

For the fears, behind your eyes..."

---

Professional doomsayer has 'prophesised' that this world is doomed beyond salvation thanks to global warming. The time for us to act has passed and now we can only hope to mitigate the damage by taking drastic actions, and even that is not very hopeful. From the looks of things, chances are we will probably be doing more to help us save our pockets than to chop less trees and burn less fuel.

---

"When I cant feel you,

I'm not alright, I'm not alright,

When I cant feel you,

I'm not alright, I'm not alright,

When I cant feel you ..."

---

I think we're pretty much screwed, and damned our future generations to burn in this beautiful but soon to be dead home. I walk around in the mall and look at the newborn babies being brought about by their parents. They are such cute stuffs, innocent and beautiful. Yet at the back of my head I can't help but to think "oh you're so screwed 20 years down the road."

What's in store for us? For my family, my beloved and I?

---

"Jesus as you throw me on the rocks,

For love I left your side

'cus I believed in love and beautys wiles,

Where heaven shone from your eyes..."

---

Then I thought to myself how much I'm in love, the rest of the world didn't matter. The world can be non-existant as long as we're together. That's a premature way of saying things, and a very selfish one. Not that I'm not conscious as to what's going on with the rest of the world apart from the two of us. The truth is, I'm always aware; the truth is, the truth is far from what I had believed in.

I'm not willing to give up on my home, this country, this world. Despite my best intentions, and the fact that I have not yet thought of a viable course of action to help contribute to the cause of putting this world back on track, my only saving grace left, my hope of things will be alright is with her, and my family.

---

"Chained to your tree

I wanted you to say

I wanted you to say

I wanted to believe

Chained to your tree

I wanted you to say

I wanted you to say..."

---

If only things are easier said than done, or things are easier to save than to destroy, or to be pious is easier than to be corrupt.

If only malice is as restrained as kindness we have for each other...

This world we have, would've been a better place, no?

---

"Tell me that it wasnt all for naught,

Its such a waste now, Its such a waste now cmon

I know your scared but baby dont you hide,

Its such a waste,

You'll stand alone now, you'll make it somehow "

---

... my wager is risky, for I'm betting that at the end of the day, the devastation wouldn't consume me. My hope and faith is strong, strong as a well fortified fortress, I'm confident that it would weather whatever oncoming onslaught.

... but all that would be lost if I were to pull this through alone, even if I could make it somehow.

---

*title of song: Alright,

by: Pilot Speed*

Try

Grandma was sitting on her rocking chair, a chair they owned so long ago. Like any other vibrant and bubbly teen, she told Grandma she was going out for the day. Grandma said nothing, but nodded her head with a smile in consent, constantly rocking back and forth.

Her home was old; zinc roof, make shift pipelines, without a door sign... a squatter's home. As much as she tries, the grill would always shriek loudly, yet it was not loud enough for the accustomed ears. Grandma was not bothered with the shrieking grill, to her it was nothing more than a silence; the silence of the neighbourhood they are in. Thus begins her routine walk to the bus stand.

"Two hundred paces, exactly two hundred paces" she thought. She stopped in her tracks after hearing the voice of an angry adult yelling and scolding over some menial problems. Two hundred paces was the number of steps she was counting a year ago, the number she remembers until she lost count, interupted by the yelling of this very same man.

She paused in her tracks, staring into the house, and like every house in the neighbourhood and her's, there is only a grill. A little boy came into her sight, pouting his lips followed by who is presumably the little boy's sister, sobbing incessantly. She never understood why that man is so full of angst, and as a teen in this neighbourhood, she probably never bothered to try to care.

Her little trip took her to a park, a small park constructed for the children nearby the government's low cost flats to play. Despite her instinct to shy away from the unforgiving sun, she could not help to look at a couple of children running around in the park, braving the heat. She was probably getting a little nostalgic, and vowed to come back to the park later that day, a vow she makes almost too hastily, and a vow she never fulfill.

Her trip to the local mall was fun, so fun she did not realise the passing of time. It was not too late, but for a teen like her with a semi-strict mother, 5 o'clock is her Cinderella's 12 midnight. After getting off from the very same bus stand she was earlier in the afternoon, she began her dull journey back to her home.

She paused at the same park again... not that she remembers her vow. She saw the same boy, and his sister running around in the park, except this time they were constantly smiling, laughing, sometimes looking excited when one is chasing the other in the game of tag. "What a bunch of mischiefs" she thought. Yet the sight has undoubtedly made her chuckle a little inside, she smiled at the sight of such happiness, and the memory of her earlier encounter with them was cast far away.

Without much thought, she approached the children, offering some sweets she bought from her trip to the mall earlier. They accepted her gift, after all she is not a stranger to them, but a neighbour who lives some two hundred paces away. "Xie xie jie jie!" said the children in unison, and loudly too before running away resuming their game of tag. She found an empty swing, and with her nostalgic thoughts of being a little girl again getting stronger by the minutes, she quickly occupies it, not wanting to let another have it. There she sat, swinging forth and back slowly, recounting her life not too long ago, of thoughts where she was barely half her height, but swinging almost 90 degrees on the very same thing she is sitting on now, having more courage than what she has now.

"Childhood..." she chuckled again.

She looked to her sides, saw the little boy earlier swinging very high up, a perfect fit of the image she recounted earlier while she was swimming in the pool of her childhood memories, she could see herself in the place of the little boy. Looking forward, she saw the boy's sister, giving her a look that says "can I use the swing now, please?".

Looking from not too far away, looking at the two children she barely knows swinging high up in the park, laughing loudly, she find herself rooted to the place. She was rooted deeper after seeing the overall sight, a park full of children, running around screaming in joy, or some of those who are crying after falling down and being consoled by caring mothers or maids.

For the first time in her life, she ceased lamenting on her life, about being born in a poor family, living in a less-than-the-rest neighbourhood. "How very intangible" she thought, slowly acknowledging that happiness in fact, can be found simply anywhere, but one must know where to look.

The grill shrieks again as she opens it, making her way through.

"Sitt fann lo (time to eat in hakka)" said Grandma.

of spites and spikes.

Nearly 3 full months of hiatus. Workless days at work certainly did me in, at least enough for me to start typing random musings (some of which, will be not-so-random) at work hour.

My life isn't interesting enough for me to write about, especially on the net. No one gives a damn anyway. Those who does give a damn probably knows what I have been up to, and those who gives less damns would just settle if they know I'm doing alright.

Yet, I do need to whine, incessantly. For instance, day yesterday was awful. Minus having nothing to do and browsing the web the whole day (SURE, why the thought of being paid for doing nothing sounds awesome some may think), I went home with a crappy stomach who decide it was a good day to give me shit (no pun intended, but literally that's how it kinda ended up; two trips to and fro, whalla, happy stomach, painful shit hole). Then, my external harddisk, my sweet... sweet external harddisk took a crap so huge, it decides to commit suicide. I'm still not done with the resuscitation process yet tho. Apart from my save game datas (READ: NEVERFUCKINGWINTER NIGHTS OMFG and etc, etc), I am bracing myself for the impact of the loss of my not so huge collection but nevertheless wonderful and awesome mp3 files. The degree of reliability that technology provides is baffling at times.

Why, when I get something new, I'm amazed. Astonished at the wonderful reanimation of what the 3D tech today is capable of. Yet, when they decide to prematurely retire (They get to retire when my wallet can afford their replacements), these costly mthrfkrs just go to hell like that. *Puff*, gone with the wind, or dust. Not this time, I'm literally going to go to hell and drag their sorry asses back, er... referring to my hdd, make it vomit all my files back THEN they get to retire. I'd hammer the cover open (can't find those stupid screwdrivers they use for the screws), piss on the discs, breka them apart and toss it into a burning pyre.

So, now my boss ain't around, great. No sarcasm there, it is actually great to work in a stress free surrounding once in a while (Read: A LONG LONG WHILE).

Now I have a few agreements to run through, and of course, come up with a scheme to deter those ladies from other departments from being such (please insert derogatory remarks here). I have always been wanting to come up with something like that, but too lazy to and always not bothered to when the moment (when they piss me off) passes. Most of the time, I just dislike them, but when it does boil down to it, when they drag their hairy asses over, I wish their face would get hit by a cement truck. No, didn't mean for them to die, just the pain... oh the pain...

At any rate, stomach is acting up again. Roadside mamaks can kiss my ass until my tummy builds up an impenetrable, solid, impervous defense against any type of onslaught that would lead to ... unfavourable and unwanted effort to maintain and manage excess body waste... It still feels like pandemonium in there, I think Genesis is happening in there, er... whatever the event is where the Angels battles in heaven and God finally casts whoever down to hell. Right now, it is hell.

Argh.