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Friday, December 16, 2005

XENOPHOBIC

i am xenophobic.

i was once in this audition for a play directed by an australian - i got so nervous the veins on my neck bloated that i became this shrieking neurotic 'hantu' who was just about to gouge his eyes out. making it worse - i was auditioning for a 7-year old boy and well, caucasian too.

of course i didn't get the part. a girl got it.

anyway yesterday i had tea with a good friend of mine. he said i write fictional stuff. but i do not write everything fictional, some were actually based on true accounts! albeit loosely.

and even if it its fictional, every piece of fiction should have an internal logic behind it. don't you think?

THE OTHER DAY, IT WAS RAINING IN BRICKFIELDS

it was raining the other day somewhere in brickfields. there you were... waiting for a taxi.i know you would be one of those whom we only have the opportunity to meet once in a lifetime. unless if a conversation starts.

"so its raining huh?"
"yea, you don't say!" you answered, while we both looked at the semi magenta semi navy bluish sky, as the rain kept pouring. you didn't even look at me.

and then you smiled. which came about with a sense of mockery. you probably thought i was weird or sick or something.but you couldn't blame me really, i know we had just met, but i like you a lot that i tend to get creepy. i'll start having these images of marriage, parenthood and death together!

and not just that. the brain will slow down by 1/2 of its normal speed, speech pattern changes to only monosyllables and manic chortles and things appear faster than it seems. its like one of those 19th century movies, where idea flows slower than the physical movement of the story.

and while i was looking like a retard in front of someone whom could potentially be my soulmate i had to ask again.

"you rasa hujan ni berhenti tak?"

and this time i was really hoping that you could just look into my eyes and see how desperate i was for any answer...

and the infatuation grew more and more overwhelming that it made my heart turned from red to vermillion and it pounded out of control, out of beat, like dup, dup, dupduddupddup, dup... ... ... dup! like acid beat played in grotesque adagio, ruining my whole system. i started to perspire, giant smudges of oily mineral started to trickle down from the armpit all over and down the belly causing the shirt to be soaked of sweat rather than the heavy rain, i felt like i was forced to vomit my own lungs and eat it back.

but there was still no answer, only the sound of raindrops which i swear i could distinguish drop by drop... and when you walked away, non-chalantly and when you took my umbrella along thats when i broke down and cry.

i spent the rest of the evening cursing myself at the taxi stand.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

WHEN MY FATHER DIED

when my father passed away in an accident which was 20 years ago, a few people visited me after a tahlil one night. they told me they wanted to stay with me. it was more of a consensus between 'us'.

since then they kept telling me, "you are going to die soon, you are going to die soon". that life for me is in the short run and therefore forget the future by quoting John Maynard Keynes, the "In the long run we are all dead" famous expression. They told me I would not live pass 12. although I survived primary school, barely alive when I got the UPSR results.

It went on in the secondary years, back then in prep school when i was queuing in the dining hall, I felt a man would somehow appear behind me and gave a hard blow to my head which would cause my eyes to pop out from the socket. or sometimes when i was running in the football field, i felt my heart would beat so fast that the body just couldn't take it, and it would burst. or when mother was driving the highways picking me up from school, i felt like theres a trailer tanker truck with shitloads of petroleum would fly right at our car from the opposite direction to flatten the car and explode!


i told mother about it. she brought me to see someone who happened to be a waste of my time. i had to tell her. "i am ok already mak, i don't hear voices anymore so don't you worry!" which was so fucking cliche to prevent her from worrying too much. that was when i accepted the fact that 'they' meant it when they said they wanted to stay with me. i began to believe that i will not see a day past 18.

however THEN. when I was 18 when I met this girl who turned out to be an utter lunatic they left suddenly. probably feeling disgusted. i missed them so much those days when i wasn't myself. but that was not for long.

about a year after that, i was dancing in a club when i suddenly heard many many people whispering "what if you drop dead here, right now, in front of all these people". i thought i was going crazy. "Apparently you are" they said. however they told me i should not worry because its working only slowly, day by day by day.

"and we’re back”


I started work a few years ago. since then things haven't changed much except that they have altered a few of their agendas. apart from reminding me about death now they insist that "by default people hate you and you should stop wasting your time trying to make them like you. you are different, you are an island, you are worthless and you should be tied to the komuter railway, and let the komuter from rawang run over your body."


and that I will not live past 30. But nah, nothing I can’t handle though.

I’m not blaming my father for being dead so early though. but what if he hadn’t died… how different would it be? It would probably, alter my whole purpose of existence. But come to think of it, I’d rather not. Let him be dead early, as God wanted him to be. i think i am vaguely happy with my life and myself these days. and i'd rather be vaguely correct than precisely wrong.

I got a call from my friend just now.
She said that my lame attempt to be sick and depressed in this particular dramatic post is disgusting.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

KARI KEPALA IKAN

Here I am, on the 8th Floor. Its going to rain soon. With lightning. They say lightning is very destructive. They will knock down your soul and tall things. Many things are tall. My office is tall too you see, its a high rise building with heli pad on top. Tall things attract lightning. Recent study shows that height and the risk of being struck by lightning do correlate. That means the taller you are the higher probability of you getting struck by lightning. About, 75 percent or so maybe? Who knows? You could ask Jeremy Lavine, he once wrote something about lightning. He amused me. He said lightning would strike your trees too, because they are tall. And then you die.

Owh! I joined my colleagues for a fish head 'feast' during lunch. It was horrible. With eyes protruding and mouth half opened. They deconstruct almost everything, the eyeballs, eyelids, the cheekbones, the teeth, the jaw, the throat each and every part that I never even knew exist on a fish before. They said fish head is gift from God. I disavowed that! Them fish head eaters are fucking psychos.

And if I could draw a line parallel to what I wrote in the first para, fish head eaters should be struck by lightning. They should die. Along with their trees.

One Night When He Was Out Drinking

one night when he was out drinking at some party there was this malay guy who just gulped 3 cans of beer let out a big burp to which he celebrated with "alhamdulillah..."

WHEN SPARKS FLY

tandas wanita, tepi blok makmal komputer, menghadap perpustakaan sebuah universiti, lampu kalimantang putih, panas berpeluh-peluh atas mangkuk tandas, pukul 4.45 pagi.

sebuah van berwarna putih milik penjual air tebu di sebuah pasar malam di pinggiran petaling jaya berdekatan dengan kawasan perumahan golongan pertengahan yang kebanyakannya berbangsa cina. di belakang van, pukul 9.15 malam.

rumah kedai atas restoran makanan cina di kepong, lampu mentol kuning, tiada kipas, tiada tingkap, tilam nipis berbau hapak peluh, bantal putih berdaki... pukul 12.35 tengah malam.

atas meja makan, dalam sebuah rumah di subang jaya, rumah teres dua tingkat, tidak bercat , tidak diubah suai, kereta honda civic di hadapannya... pukul 3.30 pagi.

sebuah bilik kongsi dalam sebuah pangsapuri di sri kembangan, serdang, tilam empuk, bantal berbentuk hati, selimut merah, cermin-cermin, dalam gelap, penuh bayang-bayang pukul 5.00 pagi.

sebuah kereta berwarna putih, dua pintu, penyaman udara, pemain cd, sistem suspensi sederhana menyerap henjutan, atas sebuah bukit menghadap pemandangan kuala lumpur, di bawah bintang-bintang, dalam hujan... pukul 2.00 pagi.

so many places, so little time... when sparks fly.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

SCARCITY

scarcity. to learn that resources are limited. to understand the concept of suffering for the benefit of others. and its castaneda.

so, suffering for the benefit of others. i dont think thats too hard to understand right? every other economic theories and models are based on this concept. anglo saxon capitalism model, rhineland... bla bla bla... you name it... those are just bullshit stuff which makes life even more complicated... such an irony state as they are supposed to help us understand life better! but its not... its even more complicated. but those who manage to understand it... will be the one benefitting from the suffering. and thats how they tricked us to go to school, to learn all about these simple facts of life in a more godly highly complex incomprehensible fucked up presentation.

i learn that in a country, some have to stay unemployed, so that the employed ones will not suffer from inflation. so its like, if you are unemployed, and looking for a job but you are the last remaining 100,000 jobless men in the country, then you have to stay jobless for the benefit of people already with jobs. and even funnier you can't stop looking for jobs, because once you stop looking, you are no longer considered unemployed, and when there is no more unemployed people... argh funny kan, the whole balancing act? why does it happen? scarcity lah! jobs are scarce! come to think of it... scarcity is the reason for everything. thats the reason why we blog even!

so why do we blog? some people write stupid stuff. but still we find time reading it. why are you reading my blog? it rants nothing but the obvious things... probably by the end of your read, you will find out that "babi memang tak boleh terbang pun" and "ikan talapia tak boleh tunggang basikal!"... so why read? bodoh kan? are you? i don't know.

so tell me, why do you blog? don't tell me. scarcity? scarcity of happiness in life? scarcity of excitement in the real world? scarcity of channels to express your supposedly naked feelings? fuck you, i will not buy that! theres a simple reason behind it, to get attention. why? we get so little of it in the real world. since its scarce as well you know.

and thats what i am doing right now. so fuck me too for that matter.

and who will audit this system? GOD. yes GOD audits this contemptible system. GOD audits us all the time and HE is the only one qualified to qualify or unqualify our accounts at year end! so what do we do with it then? with the account? do you save more? you know resources are limited. theres only so much a man can do in a day, so much a man can earn in a month. so its scarce... so what do you do with it? come out with models? or theories? i don't know!

you know soon enough... all of these systems will crumble. stock markets, capital structures... bonds, munis fuck you name it... all will crumble. so why bother then? why bother suffering when you know in the end...

god damn it. why can't they just build more parking lots.

fuck.

BEING NARCISSIST

i'm a narcissist. people think of a narcissist as someone who is so much in love with himself, that its intoxicating. but thats what everyone knows.

what everyone doesn't care to know is how much they hate themselves, up to a point that they need to love themselves to exist.

FOR THOSE WHO ARE ABOUT TO BLOG.

ok.
you can do this.
like write normally.
write like other people.
write about things.
write about life.
use long intelligent words
in a long multiple subject sentence.
which rants about depression.
about your sexual orientation.
about how bad the traffic was this morning.
or maybe about who your friends are
and who you are not friends with
about women you have and women you can't have...
or about your idealistic views on how the world should be run...
write drama.
cause people just can't live without it.

right.
so excuse me.
while i go choke myself to death.