Sunday, October 30, 2005

sungguh menakjubkan!

ya, saya sedang menulis dalam bahasa melayu dan sebab perkara yang sangat ajaib dan juga lucu ini adalah kerana esok adalah peperiksaan bahasa melayu saya. saya telah menghafalkan berbelas-belas peribahasa dan kini, sedang berbual dengan yasmin si lelaman MSN juga dalam bahasa melayu - sungguh lucu!

kami telah mereka beberapa frasa baru untuk buat demikian, yaitu:
KDK - ketawa dengan kuat
KSBAL - ketawa sambil bergolek atas lantai.
ANI - apa neraka ini

saya kini sedang berasa agak sedih. ramai kawan-kawan saya menghadapi supp paper, atau akan ditendang keluar sekolah. terutama sekali mereka dalam kelas melayu saya. hampir setengah menghadapi situasi tersebut. sesungguhnya, =(

pada awak tahun ini, saya tidak sangka kita akan menjadi kawan kerabat, tetapi jika perkara yang buruk akhirnya berlaku, saya akan merindu mereka. perkara seharian, seperti bergelak di dalam kelas dengan cikgu hanisah, atau dengan solikin yang sangat pandai dalam bahasa, ataupun pada hari Racial Harmony apabila yasmin dan hafiz dikahwinkan - sungguh meriah! terutama sekali, kumpulan Slut Posse: Yasmin, Ili, Jennifer dan saya. bersama, kita bercadang untuk mengambil tindakan terhadap seseorang lelaki yang amat comel tetapi sedihnya, kita tidak pernah diberi peluang untuk melakukannya. sesungguhnya, kita memang lembu dogol (orang yang penakut dan hanya cakap banyak sahaja). tetapi, tidak apa-apa! =)


how strange!

yes, i am writing in malay and the reason for this strange and funny thing is that it is in preperation for my malay exams tomorrow. i have memorized tens of proverbs, and am now conversing with yasmin on MSN in malay! it is very funny!

we have come up with several new phrases to do so, and they are:
KDK - ketawa dengan kuat/LOL - laugh out loud
KSBAL - ketawa sambil bergolek atas lantai/ ROFL - rolling on the floor laughing
ANI - apa neraka ini/WTH - what the hell

i feel quite sad. a good number of my friends are facing supp papers or worse, being kicked out of school. especially friends from my malay class. almost half of them are facing this situation. it is truly =(

this year, i never expected us to become such god friends and if the unfortunate was to happen, i'll miss them a hell lot. the daily things, like joking in class with cikgu hanisah, or solikin who is SO GOOD in malay he makes us look horrible, and racial harmony day when hafiz and yasmin got married - such fun! and especially our Slut Posse (started when i apparently made a good impression of those coy pornstars in online popups - don't ask) comprising of Ili, Yasmin, Jennider and I. together, we conspired ploys concerning a certain cute guy (he is la!) but sadly, we never got the oppurtunity to materialize our ploys. we are such 'dogol' cows (cowards who only know how to talk big), but no matter! =)


so yeah, i realize only the handful of malay-comprehending people i know will be able to read the malay post.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005


i mean, really. so this kiddies, is the danger of random flipping through online journals because you never know when one single entry will hit you and make you feel so small and miserable like you would never believe. i'm not going to mention names, but geez this person is just - augh. they should have a warning label for entries like that man:

"Volatile. May cause temporary, but intense damage to your self-esteem. Stay away, you insecure things!"

it's just nuts. huge macadamias!

especially since i got my promo results all presented to me properly today on a piece of paper and i cannot honestly say there is one single grade that i'm proud of, which you know, is just shit. because a C for lit, although decent, was a complete FLUKE. its a C that i didn't deserve at all because all my other essays were complete shit, and it was only through one miraculous essay that was able to pull the rest up to a C-average.

this makes me very angry.

and obviously, i am under some extent of emotional duress because not only is my period 2 weeks early (sorry guys, but yeah its a pretty siginificant point), but i've been having a more continuous onslaught of the most weird-ass dreams! like the other day, i watched people hurtle themselves down from a collapsing construction crane and then yesterday, SERIOUSLY TOUCH WOOD, i dreamt my grandfather died and it was horrid how emotionally accurate it all was.

and then today, in class, my thumb started twitching for a whole fuhreaking minute. i just sat there, staring at my twitching thumb.

god, i am in such a mess.

but let's focus on the good things in life shall we? i just had a whole tube of cadbury milk chocolate. tomorrow, we're going to film our shortfilm for our OPW, and it all sounds very promising. we're trying to round up a team for this awesome shortfilm competition, and that's pretty cool too althought it might involve kidnapping SOME PEOPLE WHO ARE WAY TOO OCCUPIED BY DRAMA REHEARSALS. i've got a whole line-up of projects planned, and all i need to exceute them is some discipline and a bit of money. i'm doing okay in school, and i don't think people have rallied around to form a committee to throw rocks at me yet -

so yeah, all is fine and dandy. save for the odd physio and pyschological anomalies but otherwise: HURRAH!

Monday, October 17, 2005

"'m reading kazuo ishiguro's never let me go, but i think the freezing climate affected my reading speed cos i only got to page 51. it is quite all right - wait no, let's be honest - i don't think much of it at all. granted, i've only read the first few chapters but well, from what i have read, i haven't encountered any impressing poignancy, or strikingly beautifully crafted sentences. its all very ordinary."

well that's what i said a few days ago. i've read the whole thing now, so for the heck of it and indulging in the rare moments where it seems that i actually have nothing to do, let's have a brief review:

i won't be giving away any spoilers for those who intend to read the book save for the fact that this book, in terms of stylistics is very subtle, and this would include the plotline itself such that it would seem that the story goes nowhere, which is not very true at all.

the difference in tones, atmosphere and even the conveying of themes is done through shifting nuances, so if you're reading through this in a rush, it would seem like a whole 263 pages of a hazy dream that just leads the reader in circles, back and forth without anything concrete to say. i suppose it takes some getting used to, especially since for lit, i've been reading stuff like huxley where the plot complexity (wait - what plot?) is just so obvious its like whamming your head against the wall.

but after awhile, especially reading it in comfortably cold rainy days in bed like i did, you come to appreciate this haziness - that the plot and revelations unfold gently, such that you are not wholly aware of the acknowledgement of a development, but it kind of subtly builds its layers so that with every suggested truth, you go "oh yes, that."

so that, is the merit of ishiguro's writing - very clean and subtle. i wasn't bored though, which is something, even though it should be taken into consideration that a substantial part of my reading was simply because i wanted to know what was the big deal about this writer. the only time that i dazed off in the middle of this book was when i caught myself daydreaming (i was in bed under a soft blanket at this point hurrah), and not being able to remember when exactly i had started to drift off, or whether or not i had closed my eyes at all.

at the same time though, i don't think it was a brilliant, life-changing book but i suppose that's quite a lot to live up to. no moments of poignancy or beautifully crafted prose that jumped up at me (save for an achingly touching anecdote about Norfolk - look out for that), but i suppose it's congruent to the writing style. it is very nice in every sense of the word, and a good book to pick up when you have the time and are in the drifty mood.

oh and by the way, this is post number THREE HUNDRED AND THIRTY. cheers and fireworks everyone; if you can spare the time, actually do have something to say, and don't mind bolstering my esteem, then leave a tag about how this blog, (cue: dramatically cheesy voice) has changed your life.

though i highly doubt it, but eh, why not give it a shot.

Friday, October 14, 2005

for the first time in my life today, i was late for school. (how exciting)

it amazes me actually, this record that has only since been broken, considering that i am usually late for everything else. i suppose its because more often than not, if i find myself in a situation where it is likely that i will be late for school, i opt for not turning up at all!

its a very convenient ploy that half my class employed today.

so for the first time too, i officially was given detention. that's a but odd, you ask, since you say that you used to get into much trouble in secondary school. well, true that - but you see, BP has no official system of detention.

when you get into trouble, the DM will snarl at you to see him after school, so you do. in doing so, you actually wait around an hour or two waiting for him to turn up, and when he finally does, he snarls at you to get lost, that you are a waste of his time or what are you doing here, which is then your cue to take advantage of his frazzled state and downplay whatever grievious misdemeanour commited. then, you go home.

its an absolute waste of time. but if you DON'T see him, he somehow retains your absence, and then you're in deeper shit the next day. its quite odd really.

cj detention on the other hand, is actually quite fun. i spent it catching up with my friend, calling charmaine and matthew, scheduling a pw meeting, cursing the bloody school laptop and when i got bored, trooped of to siberia to read one of those hyped up books to find out whether it was worth all they said hype.

so, when the DM asked us later on, "what did you do during the two hours?" (apparently, i-did-some-form-of-study answers is the key to getting back your EZ-link card. hmm. i am such a detention noob), i feebly said that i read a lit book - which is true! just not the one assigned on our syllabus, that's all.

i'm reading kazuo's never let me go, but i think the freezing climate affected my reading speed cos i only got to page 51. it is quite all right - wait no, let's be honest - i don't think much of it at all. granted, i've only read the first few chapters but well, from what i have read, i haven't encountered any impressing poignancy, or strikingly beautifully crafted sentences. its all very ordinary.

and the thing of course, is that i usually do like things that revolve around the ordinary - that one of the beautiful aspects of literature is finding the catching, fleeting moments of brilliance in the ordinary.

i watched cold mountain with my brother and sister, and watching it, i'm assuming it is NOT pg because they were quite shaken by the violence brutality and moments of crass nudity. i wondered for awhile whether they should go on watching it, suggested that they stop which of course, was left unheeded; but i came to the conclusion that actually, i think its good that they did. it might do my sister some good to be aware of humanity's propensity for cruelty, and for my brother to know that war is so much more than the the tactical strategies for the computer games that he plays. good movies are just brilliant.

yesterday was the J2s graduation day, and somebody got thrown into the fish pond. i wonder how much he smelled afterwards. kinda ew, yes. to be honest, its something that i've always wanted to do, to be thrown/jump into a pod of some sort and the only thing that stops me is the thought of residual pond smell.

speaking of fishes!

if you thought that eating dinner (which may or may not include fish) in front of your fish tank like i do at home is darkly amusing, or cruel as steffi would find it, i have news:

so one of the fishes died, and we were supposed to remove it but i couldn't find the net and not feelin up to putting my whole arm into the tank, i put it off to another day.

the next day! i was walking past the tank when i thought i saw one of those 'i-can-see-its-skeleton!' fishes swimming at an odd angle and i was thinking oh dear, is it an epidemic of Mysterious Fishy Deaths like the last time? when i took a closer look, it was the half-eaten corpse of the dead fish.


they ate almost everything - all th guts, the tail and well, i suppose they left a bit of flesh - i suppose they got bored.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005


for those who have not realized it, i have installed a web counter on this blog and well, i'm not going to beat around the bush, i had it installed two months back for purely egocentric reasons. oh come on now, don't look at me like that! we all know that a large portion of the appeal for keeping an online journal is having a readership, and fandom (pathetically limited or otherwise) is purely a vanity.

and besides, this web counter has an awesome feature that pinpoints my readers from their geographical position - when i click on this feature, this map of the world comes up with all these dots that represent the readers so hey - I CAN SEE YOU GENEVIEVE ANTONO TAG MY BLOG UPDATE YOURS PLS WHEN ARE YOU COMING BACK TO SINGAPORE =) HOW IS CANADA, MY FRIEND GOES SKIING THERE, APPARENTLY HE'S QUITE PRO HAVE YOU GOT A FUNNY ACCENT, EH?

you know, this post was actually meant for something of a more depthful matter, religion to be exact, seeing that it is ramadan, and many many related things have been swimming in my head, but then i checked my blog for tags, saw the counter, got quite excited, blog-hopped this and that, and augh i must now strive to move away from the tangent(aha, see that's fulfilling my quota for mathematical information-thingy; a mathematical term.)! its about time i write something somewhat serious, looking at the past half-hearted entries.

some time back, in a conversation with hazri, we talked about the coming ramadan and the ensuing bahavioural changes that it entails. roughly, he thought it was nonsense for people to be substantially more pious during this month, and then regress back into i suppose, morally decadent ways once it has passed - as if to build up credit so that you could be bad for the rest of the year, something along those lines i think.

it's almost a reverse be-good-santa-is-coming syndrome.

at that point of time when he said that, i don't think i replied much because what he said made me wonder whether that was what i did, be good for a month in compensation for the 11 months of neglect. you see, for me right, i don't or can't respond fully to the opinions of others and formulate my own opinion immediately - i'm the kind who kinda nods, mulls over it five minutes, hours, days, weeks or months later and THEN, my somewhat fully formed opinion.

i would agree that his opinion is very true, it happens and undeniably hypocritical. but then again, i don't think it would be true to say that it is the basis for all momentarily pious behaviour. for me, during this month, i do end up adhering more to morally/religiously upright ways, which include from a conscious effort not to cuss (not always working) and to do my daily prayers as far as possible (ditto). partly, from obligation, and to be brutally honest, that oligation comes more from family/society rather than i don't know, an inner call of faith.

but that does not mean that it completely negates any effort of finding a better connection with God. maybe its easier to do so during this month, because the oppurtunities and well, atmosphere is there. it is a month, especially allocated for such things, and i suppose it is sad that it is more likely than not that i will regress into my usual ways post-ramadan, well hey, i'm trying. in spite of my cynicism and unconventional thoughts of religion and God, i think i do want to try.

gosh this feels odd.

do you know what else is odd? extreme displays of emotion resulting from worship etc. now, i'm not saying that it's weird per se, but I find it odd and like the way i don't understand how art students can so easily convert to science students, i simply just don't get it. it unnerves me. and i'm not even going into the questioning of the sincerity of all these displays.

the thing is, i am very wary of people displaying such extreme and rigorous conviction of their faith. this primarily means evangelists (not neccesarily solely Christian) and oh i don't know, crying. on the case of evangelists, my sticking point is that how can you be so completely, absolutely, infallibly sure that you are right, and that therefore, others are wrong? i mean, seriously. in all logic, you have to concede to the existence of other options and in doing so, the marginal possibility that they too have a chance of being right since after all, its not like you've got a giant rock with a divine carving that goes: HA I'M RIGHT, YOU'RE WRONG. you know? its just ridiculous, and such extreme conviction is just..narrow-minded.

and for extreme displays of emotion. see, i've always considered one's relationship with God to be a very personal and intimate thing, and this would also mean that hey, nobody else has to see it! its kinda the same logic for Public Displays of Affection for Couples - like, oh hey, glad you guys are happy and loving each other muchly but yeah don't have to see the physical evidence please kthnxbye. for reasons unfathomed, it just unnerves me.

for example, we once had this prayer session thing at home, with lots of random people my parents knew from the pilgrimage group and amiably going along with everything, when this man starts crying. which is okay, if it was the quiet type but oh no. kinda loud, definitely noticeable and while i was hey, happy for him that he i don't know, had an epiphany of some sort, i could not help but think oh gawd, pull it together please. i suppose its just that in recent times, i find it somewhat appropriate to keep a level of detachment between your private and public self. i don't know. well, the other day, we were doing one of the daily prayer things as a family and well, in the middle, my dad who was leading, at first his voice wavered, and then kibda cracked until it was clear that he was you know, crying. at least it wasn't superly dramatic like the other guy, but still it unnerved me. for one, i've never seen or heard my dad cry. have you?

faith - what a difficult, difficult subject. my faith in God comes in the form of little small things, like knowing that things that have or are happening, are essentially for the best, and that problematic dilemmas will work out fine and that i will be okay. that i should govern my life not from the nitty-griity rulings that sometimes come up with islam (can you say, micro-managing?), but just by being as good a person as i can be. so what if my arab is far from fluent (more like, non-existent) or that i can't memorize the hadiths, or the 101 rules pertaining to islamic legistlation?

i think i'm a good person, or at least, try to be.

my one flaw though, the one thing that will send me into the fire and brimstone of hell is that i am a compulsive liar.

i'm not proud of it, but i have to admit that its one of the things that keep my daily interactions with the Outside World smooth and well, functioning the way i would prefer them to. sometimes there's guilt, but not as often as it should be. i could, and should stop, and have tried actually. it lasted what, three weeks before i slipped back into it and well, yeah.

i lie.

do you guys have to be wary and distrust the things i say now? not really, i think. you believing the things i say is what keeps the relationship smooth and functioning, the way that both you and i would prefer it to be, and that, kiddies, is why i lie.

the irony of course, is that my compulsive lying does not negate me from being completely and baringly honest, as the past few paragraphs have proved.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

all right here's what i don't understand:

it's actually after the promos, having somewhat survived it and yes kids, its very much worse than the O Levels and yet and yet i am so tired, there's actually hardly a spare second to catch my breath and god, even for leisure, i find myself rushing and struggling to squeeze it in between EVERYTHING (i.e. events of today) so everything is just bad, and under all the laughter is the unmistakable undercurrent of strain and lethargy, and the knowing that you are out with your friends not doing work, because you know that is as opposed to doing MORE work and it is just horrible, is everybody going through this.

i actually would want to list down everything that is a) pissing me off and b) making, or promising to make life hell but yeah i doubt you guys would be interested in that whining shit so i think i shall exercize some good ole self-restraint.
and you know the worse thing of all is that you can't even complain with satisfaction because there is this guilt that nudges you all the time that hey, whatever you're going through, he's getting it as bad too, or worse.

a case example:
struggling with photo exhibition shit - with amazing help from jenn+jerm+shim+shawn THANKYOU; watches a tired and rather frazzled ms narinder make her way to go home

ME: nnngh, you're going home? (read: whaaaat, you're going home while we're still stuck here being minions when we're not even the ones supposed to be minion-ing!)
NARINDER: i'm going home to work on the presentation for the minister due tomorrow (read: i'm bigger, and actually earning money for this, but hey, still a minion)
ME: oh. sorry.

which you know, makes this blog (and by this, i mean ALL forms of online journals so i am NOT converting, you eljay kids) completely pointless. i don't even find inane daily incidents remotely amusing anymore, so no light-hearted anecdotes either. there's barely enough time to breathe, let alone think substantial/interesting thoughts.

and on monday and tuesday, we have post-exam activities that is brilliantly all athletic-oriented, so i will spend time taking up court space as a relatively useless mass of lack-of-coordination hurrah.

it's crazy. recently rushing my art project, i'd end up so tired and forcing myself to sleep only with the compromise that while falling in and out of sleep in those odd half-conscious moments i would think up compositions for a problematic thingy, and oh dear god, the stress-induced strange dreams don't help either

interestingly, schizophrenia is hereditary.