Sunday, November 28, 2010

all the bad wishes

that fucking idiot, bastard thief got nothing else to do haa?
got nothing else to steal, eh?
why must my precious jeans and cardi?
why must that damp clothes?
can't wait until it dry ah?
and now tell me, what am i gonna wear?
what am i suppose to WEAR?
you have no idea how d missing cardi can ruin the whole wardrobe
you certainly have no idea how that jeans works wonder to my meaty thigh
and now what i should wear?????

you're dumb ass
son of a bitchhhhhhhhhhhhh
may you rotten in hell
may you be destroyed by germs from that clothes
may you be infected by syphilis
may you lose all your teeth
may you be uglier fattier poorer
may you starve to death

may you be punished by The Mighty, its all i can hope for. knowing there is nothing i can do, haih. honestly, i don't care about how much it costs, those clothes are not that pricey. what makes me rage, furious, mad about this dumb-ass thief is that she stole lots from others too, at the same time, the same morning, in the same building, idiot asshole, and she stole mine while it not yet dried, still wet and damp. with limited piece of clothes, i don't know what to wear for this coming trip. what i have now, are red cardi and a pair of hideous gray jeans which i'll be wearing for a week.

bear the smell.
 haih, be patient munirah.  tough luck.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

told you so, jangan tidur lepas Asar

i hate waking up from an evening nap, feeling utterly pathetic and hungry. although there is a roommate, perfectly sleeping next to my bed, i still cannot conceal the feeling of being lonely and so fucked up. i woke up with troubled head, wanting to be away from this room, imagining i could just be spontaneous and get my trainees and hit the stadium to run. but i did not do that. i restricted myself from doing it because i don't want people to see me and judge me and say, 'now that is one lonely girl', and so i make excuses, procrastinate and end up whine about my not-so-awesome life. 

and when you are boring, alone and single, all the vile thoughts annihilate the serenity of being single and independent.  making you just like the commoners, the weakling female who fantasizes of finding The Man. i just told a man about how boring he was, he responded not to be in touch with me anymore, and funnily he has no guts to defend himself. or maybe he was deadly boring to entertain my childish talk. hmm, am i?

because i am bored and boring, i went through all the contacts in the mobile, with hope to find the suitable victims to hear me ramble about how awesomeness can be dreadfully boring. how i hate to realize that i have only the closest friends and colleagues' numbers, which means, very few male friends that i have, which also means it is a long time i don't have that cheeky girlish giggle, and fling with creature called man. there must be some serious damages with me.

i must be watching too much of Hollywood movies and series, apparently the yellow culture seems to give impacts that i am now thinking how blissful to be drunk and unconscious. i dont know how the taste of beer and whiskey because i consciously aware that it is 'haram'  but i certainly want the feeling of being forgetful, reckless, drunk, nonsensical, talking rubbish, acting cheap and being completely out of my head just for a night. have u had any of those crazy, wild dreams? is it a wild dream? eh?

obviously, i cannot stick to a topic. purposely wanted to write about the taboo L word, how this word makes me swoon, envy and naive in a sense, and how this word can be so repulsive, mean, brute, yet sweet. as you see, the points scattered all over, jumping hither tither, and end up merely rubbish. oh, maybe some other time about this L word.

after all, woman is just a woman.

Monday, November 22, 2010

false pretense

baby, your skirts seem to be shorter and shorter and it will be easier for me to slip my hand under your skirt  
my mental note, to a woman, if i am a man of many vile thoughts.

it is not a strange thing to witness a girl who was religiously stick to her headscarf,

then started to remove it layer by layer
began with a single piece of cloth that covers the head
and latter chose the fit tight of t shirt over her baju kurung
get even worst when she opted to reveal the hairless calves
which led to the even shorter skirt that shows her juicy tights
 
sexy, irresistible, yummy. nom nom.

not yet included the hair treatment in salon
or the brown liquid dye on her hair
or the bizarre colors of her corneas
or the monthly plucking of eyebrows

not that i jealous, but i am sad
to see you are degrading.

..............................................................................................................................


what i hate about facebook how it can make one life is easily accessible and how it tempts me to be judgmental. i just went through of a relative profile, which i had known for life turning into someone i know not. sadly, she chose a glamorous life over the religious stance that was once instilled by her faithful respectable father.

i may be skeptical, she is probably as kind as she used to be, she's probably still benign and humble. i hope so.

when i was in secondary school, my broad-schooling days, i was repeatedly told by an ustaz, friends and teachers, that a girl who is not close to her father is risked of being wild and condemned. in a way of saying it, those who have little attention or having no attention of her father will opt to find the love of other men outside. harshly saying it,  she is sluttier than those who have enough love of a father.

i oppose this idea because i proved them wrong. (the awesome me)

so back with the thing with my relative, that i know for years and now rarely make contact because mom had informally dragged us out from that family, her father is the most respectful man i know. i thought of him as a perfect father figure, but i dont know what is wrong, most of his daughter end up throwing away the head scarf right after they entered the university.

a lil culture shock that leads to a heart attack of every parent. i don't understand how this could happen, and how they can do this to their parents, lying, pretending, cheating at their back and now firmly stating the hatred towards the hypocrites, which is a funny way to describe herself.

and saying that beauty and brains go together? kidding me or what? you are not that pretty and you are not that brainy because if you have brain you wont be doing such things to your parents.

i shall end this, or else it will get mushy and fury. hah!

but really, throw over your scarf for male attention? a definite attention whore. totally.

promoting Penang

last Saturday,  i went to Nasom food fair, and not only to ogling the food and men but to lend hands, helping them. well, it happened because my group mates and i did a research at Nasom centre (the autism association) about the autistic children in their language acquisition. we didnt get an A for it (as i expected), but the experience with the special kids is greater than A. and so in return of their cordial treatment, gladly, we agreed to volunteer and went to the Youth Park at Georgetown from 8 a.m. till 5 p.m. 

the food fair was in conjunction of children's day too, and the fact that Nasom managed to collaborate with the Penang Chef Association made it even more interesting. and so there were kids, parents, kids, parents everywhere. disappointed, there was no sight of hot single man. i was designated to handle 'the most happening' booth, that is a 'pony feeding' booth and so what i did for the entire stay was selling the carrot to the kids so they can feed the pony.
i had a great time there, and of course, there are reasons for that. 

first, it was held in Youth Park and that was actually my first time of stepping onto the greatest part of Penang. i used to loathe Penang, and i hate the fact that Penang provides lesser varieties of Malay food and i still think mamak food is non-edible for daily meals. however, i always love the colonial building in Georgetown, the sea breeze and the greenery part of Penang. 

okay, back to the Youth Park, it is so awesome and i think its a great place to settle in, (if only i am destined to marry a millionaire). it is like a huge recreational park, with green wide field, with bed of tropical flowers planted along the walk way, lots of outdoor gym equipment, kids playground, a small water park for kids, scenic views for the joggers, and i just love it.  the moment you enter the park, you'll see everyone is exercising. jogging, walking, playing, doing tai-chi, biking and i saw none youngsters who think it best to fuck at park, unlike in the other part of Msia where Kebun Bunga or Lake Garden will be notified as places best to date.

secondly because its a charity programme and God knows how i love to contribute something. to be frankly i am not a person who has been exposed with such of these programs. although, i'd love to join, the atmosphere, the people around me, repelled the thought of joining one. not trying to be skeptic, but through the observation that i managed to have after 10 hours of passing the carrots, there were very few malays that attended this event. ok, perhaps it was held in Georgetown, and Georgetown is a Chinese majority district, so perhaps they might not know about this. bullshit. the malays would go to a charity event, if only the press able to capture the shoot of they are holding a check replica, well that is specifically refer to the politicians.

and the third reason, its the best time to improve my spoken English. i was born, raised, schooled and living in an area of only Malays, and so this golden chance i took as an opportunity of improving my communication skill. although i've been learning seriously in english for 3 years, i still have the usual butterflies flying in the tummy whenever i have to make conversation in English. therefore, with the people coming from different background, i took the chance to utilize the language i've learnt. i might sound silly, at least they wont remember my face.

fourthly, it was a place for children, running, kicking, playing, crying, poking and having fun. because i was in charge of the 'pony feeding', i was lucky to witness multiple of funny, laughable kids' actions that can make anyone in awe. i don't usually say this openly, but i kind of like children. and the fact that i am a part time babysitter, i can't resist myself from making a distorted ugly funny face to them. maybe it's because of my callous language, or my clumsy attitude, people find its hard to believe that i able to have this utmost womanly trait. HA HA HA. i am awesome.

okay, so it was a day that only children you'll be seeing and not some hot man with sexy abs. but, there were few hot dads with kids, not less than 5, or maybe 3.

this is not actually my first time of doing charity works, i did participate in beach cleaning day, which was awesome too  because we were covered in newspaper. despite of the bad images that the gomen smeared about Penang, needless to say, Penang is awesome. i salute the Penangites' effort towards living green and staying healthy.


Thursday, November 18, 2010

Losing Touch

i just made an honest confession to a very boring person about how boring he was.
i might be losing touch of him.

i just made my friends spilled out their problems and they made me feel needed. tsk.
i hope i won't be losing touch of them. thank you.

i just forgot the phoniness of my fellow relatives, somehow i just realized that
i will never lose in touch with them.

i just shunned off the door from the China-land neighbour who has stinky habits and buttock, hence
i refuse to get in touch of her

i just remembered a disney character named Cruella Devilla
i start to think her best to be my alter ego
she is the skanky skinny witch who intends to slay the 101 Dalmatians' skin.
and i am the fabulous never-be-skinny who slays others' hearts
*laughing so hard until the voice echooooooed*.

i just had to mention my other  alter ego
introducing, Betty Suarez the ugly duckling yet pretty optimistic one.
*smiling to ears, showing off my fenced teeth*
my bang is perfectly blunt and it hang just above my eyebrows.

heh, i just bored you with absurdities of being alone in the room.
quick quick close the tab
sadly, i am not the one you're looking for.

wait, i am just talking rubbish, ain't i?
ok lah, final line. just to conclude,

i just realized my family had not called me for Eid's wish. demmit!

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

just another rambling post

i'll be having a first Aidil Adha away from family. away from calorie, fatty but delicious rendang because i can only afford few decent meals cooked by the illegal multi-cooker and rice cooker that we secretly sneaked inside our hostel. its a kind of.... my first hari raya in over sea, (penang = over the sea). Hah!

how do i feel?

apparently, i feel no sorrow. although mind and heart reminisce the good days and food that i'll be having at home, but my soul reluctants to get back to Seremban, knowing that things don't change much, realizing that i'll be confronting the same issue. hence, i choose to be alone and bitter, fidgeting about my vague future, wondering if i able to bring luck to the family.

two weeks of freedom in Penang after the exam. 

alas, it is not entirely a freedom where i can roam freely at the road of Chowrasta like a tourist fond of the colonial building in Georgetown, or like the food hunter, preying the famous char kuay teow or Line Clear nasi kandar,  not even able to hopping cheerfully in the mall, ogling the latest shoes and bags, indulging my tummy with the sugary cakes or donuts, or wasting an entire day for a movie-marathon. 

literally, i will be staying in the room that offers the view of the male hostel, in which i made neighbour with the chinese that is originally come from China-land that i never talk to. i'll be eating whatever tasteless delicacies in cafe and reading whatever books i can find in the library and watching whatever movie i can download or get from friends.

it's gonna be my last liberty before i head back to my dull life. my life is not as dull as the grainy black and white film, with only gray, black, and white lines intertwined each other, mine is a mixture of red rage and green envy that conceal the  few dots of the blue calm and the pure white. too much of these, my eyes are  now blinded by the striking colours and my mind is weary by the drama of the struggling family. 


everyone has his own predicament. i am not trying to project myself as the only person who is troubled by problems, i understand that i should not make fuss of this. it is temporary, i should just be patient. but the running thoughts always lead me to travel back and forth, from the past to present, from present to past, from contented to restless. 

last conversation i had with mom, made me restless as if i have another PMS after my monthly menstruation cycle. talking to mom is heartening and stressful most of the time. looking into mom's eyes is another thing. her high pitched, and shrill tone cannot conceal the sad look from her eyes that contain mountainous of hopes on me. it's a burden. a loaded one, a package given to one who was born without fortune. it's a lucky thing that it was not a face-to-face conversation so i am feeling less guilty.

when i get back home in December, mom will chirp (more like nagging to me) endlessly, brother will make lame jokes of trying to clear out the forlorn air, and my little sister (physically bigger than i now) will pester everyone in the house, rummaging through my bags and stuff, an irritating trick of getting attention that she rarely has.  that is pretty much how we run the family.

oh, well!

Monday, November 15, 2010

for the nation, i sacrifice my jolly hours.

had just finished the Malaysian Lit reading material.
The Return by K.S. Maniam and
This End of the Rainbow by Adibah Amin

started the one by Adibah, yester-night and finished at the lunch time
while The Return, began at 3 in the evening and finished by midnight.

patting my own back.
declaring awesomeness and smiling in vain
 the smile faints as my eyes set onto Preeta Samarasan's work.

'Evening is the Whole the Day' is the title
 weighing to read or not to read

calculating the pages... 400 pages

will take two days of determination and strong-willed


and so it becomes 'Two days are the Preeta's Days'
 ........................................................................
for the nation, and the exam

i'll try.

*sigh.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

our Manglish is fun yet funny. why hail to the Queen?

everyone wants to improve their English. they will be very happy if their daughter, boyfriend, girlfriends, son, wife, mates, scandals are good in English. parents start to send the children to a language centre at the early age so their children will be speaking like the 6-year-old British/American boy. teenagers start to listen to some crap music of Bieber, Gaga or even Yuna in the name of learning words like baby, telephone or rocket. ptff.

here are some thoughts of it.

with accent or without accent, it should not be an issue. even the whites have clearly stated that accent is merely a way of pronunciation. accent is an indicator of your identity, ethnicity, region and culture. i don't think one should feel ashamed of his mispronunciation or funny accent because that differs us all. hence, embrace your accent, be proud of our funny Manglish because that is what we are, the 'funny Malaysian'.

our people are overly worshiped the English and this might due to the old colonised mindset that never seem to demise. we can learn the language, we can be good at it, but do not forget our mother tongue. i am cutting of my finger, boldly saying that in future, there will be lesser young who can use Bahasa in a right manner. the unpolluted Malay and the non-shorted version of Bahasa will be so rare and there will be lesser who can sort words into beautiful rhymed of 'pantun'.

say whatever. some might think i have no right to preach about the importance of Bahasa because i should be writing this post in Bahasa if i love the language so much. English is merely my business, the road that i have chosen that leads my future. i have nothing else to utilize, i had left math and sciences years ago. i don't have the machinery skills of technology and gadgets and so i have to use the knowledge of this language to the max with hope that it will be able to promise me some fancy comfy position in the future.

in a normal day (non-academic day), i use about 70% of Bahasa, and leave the other 30% for watching movies, listening to music, and writing my blog.

in my heart, i am still a girl who is awe-stricken by Haji Muhamad Salleh's 5-minute-made of pantun.

Friday, November 12, 2010

being too honest in your blog is not good. someone would love to kill you.

commitment baby. all i need is a little awareness from you to be more responsible in whatever action you have taken. if you have a meeting, should you be unconsciously sleeping until the meeting ends? if you have an exam, should you be 15 minutes late? if you make a promise, should you break it?

curse me with all kinds of hate rants because i am done dealing with your folly. it is such a relief that i am no longer care the shit-things you do. i have reached the glory of ignorant. do i like this feeling? dang! i love it baby.

for at least, i won't be spending times dreadfully waiting for you. for at least i won't be feeling sad when you cancel our plan at the very last minute. for at least, i am free of the responsibility of reminding you to stay focus. for at least i am not feeling guilty when i look into your parents eyes.

i wonder if you sense this, they hope for a bright future and better fortune of yours and you....kind of spoil it.

suffice to say, you have successfully turn me into a heartless robot but don't feel bad, i kind of like it. don't get so awkward when i am around you because i am pretty much the same, perhaps a bit bitter. i may not be a part of your funny talk because i am no longer understand the joke. but i will keep smiling, pretending like nothing happens because i can simply put on the Mask of Ignorant.

p/s: though you can conceal the feeling, you cannot lie to yourself.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

the remaining few

It is the quality rather than the quantity that matters, Lucius Annaeus Seneca.
with only few close friends, lesser than 10, perhaps for only 5 i make no hesitation to believe that quality is better than quantity. i used to be in a huge group of girls that made enemies to the teachers and the teachers' dogs. i used to be sleeping with five girls on a single bed, used to be caught of cheating just to help a friend, used to be in a fight with Mak Cik canteen to justify my right of having the chicken wing instead of drumstick. thinking back of it, i fought for quantity rather than quality. for having more time to sleep, for having more food on that silver tray, for having more hours to stay awake and watch telly. we were a bunch of monkeys who hate rules and preferred to be condemned by the wardens.

those schoolgirls' days.

now, the members of bitches are gone, scattered all around, with i am the only person being thrown to the north and the rest are still somewhere in the south. the one that i really closed when i was in school, we rarely contact each other. i stopped to contact her, knowing that she's not eager as i to keep this friendships lasts. in about 10 girls, only 4 are reliable and the numbers become lesser and lesser, and this exact moment in USM i have about, let me count, err, ZERO, yillek, nada, cibai.

numbers of friends in facebook used to matter a lot to me until i realized its full of funny names and funny faces, i know not who. and so i deleted about two hundreds of strangers and will soon delete the acquaintances that  i rarely make contact with. facebook can kill sanity and make you believe that you have a perfect life but its actually a full of crap. remember, a mother who killed her baby while playing farm ville, look how technology degenerates us all.

how easily to get distracted.

so, number is not important. frankly,  i used to get jealous of girls who have fun with themselves, writing on each others' wall and blog like every hour while i remain pathetic, entertain only those i really close with and they are not avail online for 24/7. but of course, i get over it. a hater used to state how pathetic my life is, walking to the class alone, pretending to be happy. i am happy. put the earphones to the ear buds anytime and anywhere, to boost the positive mood.
aaa what did you say? cant hear you? 
why trouble your head with vile thoughts of others when you can just be a total ignorant. friends are just friends. they come and go. the few remaining are those you can call the true friends.
biar jauh di mata, dekat di hati,

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

the PMS moment

its a bad sign to your gallant soul when you start thinking of future, another sign of aging? yes it is.

the more you stay the same, the more you seem to change, (Corrine Bailey Ray)
just quoted a song, what a lame-ass.

its been a long time since i had a real laugh, the one that makes one's body crippled when trying to restrain the loud giggle, the one can draw tears of joy while laughing, the one that makes the face numbs of enjoying the jolly moment , the jaw almost draws out of your skull, and when one snaps the picture of that exact moment, we will all be seen moving, shaking, and giggling.

those days are gone.


numbers of things i've never done. ive never been out of malaysia. not even reach the sabah and sarawak. i've never been on a flight. never been to a concert. mom never sent me to tuition centre. i didnt attend the religion school. im not living in a decent house. i have no driving license. i don't own blackberry or smart phones. don't even know how to use them. i  used to lie about my father whenever people asks it. i never have that daughter-father talks, will never have. gladly, i have reasons for ignoring him.

i haven't eaten since last night, so i am hungry.

my emotion, expressions are collectible. its changeable because its in a form of masks and i am the master of camouflage. the jubilant, the ignorant, the bitch, the wicked, the playful, the not serious, the serious, the bitter old maid, the green child, the strong hulk, the weakling duck, the complainer, the crier, the loser, the boastful, the jolly, the poor lass, the folly, the smart-ass, the typical, the eccentric,the confidence, the wimp, the frugal, the spender, the loser, the winner.

i am The Mask.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

oh, tomorrow!

the quote for today at my blog page is saying,

By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail (Benjamin Franklin)
oh, great! my big final examination is tomorrow.
oh, hell yeah! i had posted three posts  today.
oh, that's great! i am surely gonna survive, coming out alive from the exam hall tomorrow.
oh, yeah baby! i can smell the joyful moment of stress in that fucking freezing hall.

and tomorrow my friend,
 it's gonna be a legend -- oh wait for it, wait for it ----- dary! (Barney Stintson)

Weight Police

i always want to share music and songs that i love. and right after i finished writing the previous post, i thought of sharing a Marilyn Manson's song, entitled The Beautiful People, but i'll never be his fan because he's freaking weird. instead, i chose one of my favourite songstress Kate Nash and she is always my favorite. i love her artsy vintage style. i love her voice tone and her talent of creating music and writing songs. and i just love to see her happy and content in her own body, well, she is not one of the many skinny artists. 

and this song, i dedicated to the 'weight polices' that i have had the opportunity of meeting them throughout my entire 21 years of living. sinfully, i secretly loathe their job. tell you, being obsessed with weight is not good. no good, no good. so just let one be happy and content in their own skin. shall we?
Enjoice.

"Skeleton Song"

Skeleton you are my friend
But you are made of bone
And you have got no flesh and blood
Running through you to help protect the bone

Skeleton we have been friends for years
And you have seen me through some trials
And tribulations and some tears
But everybody thinks I'm weird

And I should have known
That it wouldn't be long
Until you, you've got me standing in an awkward position
With unwanted attention and a need for explanation
And it's not that I'm letting go of you
But I don't know what to do

Skeleton we are so close
But you have got no body
So why do you insist on wearing clothes

Skeleton when we were young
It was easy
Even though the other kids
They would tease me
But I was only seven I had you
But now I'm twenty-two

And now it's different, when I take you out
And you, you've got me standing in an awkward position
With unwanted attention and a need for explanation
And it's not that I'm letting go of you
But I don't know what to do

'Cause sometimes at night,
I dream of the most terrible things
I take a hammer and I creep out of bed
And I raise it high
And I smash your head
Fibular and tubular
And ribs and cages, too
In fact, while I'm here
I'll smash the whole of you

Smaaaaaaaaaaash !

But Skeleton, you are my friend
And I could never bring your life to an end
Yes Skeleton you are, you are my friend
And I will be there for you until the end

And even though, when I take you out
You've got me, you've got me standing in an awkward position
With unwanted attention and a need for explanation
I could, I could never let you go

And that is all I know
And that is all I know
And that is all I, that is all I know
And that is all I know, know

let me be me.

fuck, i hate you, mr. blogger! stealing my precious minutes just to upload that fucking post box? and now the euphoria of writing something nice and kind just went away.

rage rage rage.

so here is the thing that i intend to say to the people that i cannot say this straight to their face because these women are so innocent and green and warm-hearted by nature. i appreciate your kindness of giving me advice on 'weight issue' but i have no trouble of being happy in my own body. i love the extra bulge on my tummy while i sit, my asses are so comfy and meaty like the super comfy cushion, so glad that the pelvis bone doesn't come out from it and i love the roundness of my bosom, because unlike others i have boobs.

i am always what people see, the chubby moon. if i could change myself, shed these few kilos i would not be called as chubby moon, and i will just be the normal-sized-moon. oh God, everyone is different, and i love to be different. don't expect people to be similar, small, petite sized, skinny bone-lass, and dont expect the kilos can just vanish, poof, like i have the power of Merlin.

to be healthy does not mean that you have to score the 0-2 size. does not mean that you have to wear the S or XS size. what a moronic typical mind. i eat veggies. i love milk. i eat fishes more than chicken (at home). i don't eat at late of midnight, (usually before 8pm, exception for certain times). i drink almost 7 glasses of plan water daily. i rarely drink sugary cordial drinks. i use stairs and climb up the hill often and i am not a fat ass who finds it difficult in finding clothes in boutiques.

women are born to be irritating, annoying creature, and i am talking about me too. always care of what they look like, what they wear of, what to eat, what color compliments the skin tone, oh, come on! sometime we should just get loose, get wild, be crazy, and be happy in our own skin and body.

and now, i am starting to believe that i am fated to be in the same size, that catch extra attention for my bigger ass and i  love them. instead of being slim, skinny and lean, i make sure that i eat and live healthily. not that i give up of trying but i have to learn to accept the truth.

and the truth is always ugly.
the fact that i am always in this shape since i had my first menstruation.

i had enough of starving myself, and counting calories. let me be me, because i am cool with it.
[cool emoticon inserted]

Friday, November 5, 2010

blueish

try to suck the ink tube and you get a package of blue tongue, teeth, lips

and

the pen runs smoothly right after that.

oh well, the ink tastes just horrific!

half full or half empty?

last night i thought of blogging, but i have little patient while waiting for the box to upload so i turned off the laptop and off to sleep. and this remind me of other situations that prove i have little patient.

i hate waiting for the lift, so what i did, i used stairs either to reach the room or to get out. but that was last year, when i was living in 5-6th floor.

waiting for the bus, could dread anyone's patient, so am i. instead of waiting for it, i chose to walk and climb the hill in order to reach the college. but that was years ago, when i was still in M03 and not stranded at the highest peak of USM. back in 2009, when i finished the evening class, i walked my way to college. but it is of course, sometimes, and i preferred to be walking than squeezing myself in bunch of people on the bus.

i hate lining up knowing that i can just rush to the counter.

i cannot tolerate those who don't pick up my call, after several attempts of doing so. if it is inevitable, i understand that.

once i decided to cut my hair which most of the time is spontaneously done, i just have to fulfill the desire so it's either i will cut my own hair (bang) by myself or rush to the nearest salon.  once i did that, oh what a relief feeling but not if the haircut was disastrous.

i had cut my hair short (a boy cut), knowing that it wont get any longer and healthier. 

waiting kills the virtue of being patient and i only have half full of it.

Monday, November 1, 2010

symptomatick

few of university's friends and acquaintances had an accident on their way to Pangkor Island. some of them had gone through operation and some had broken arms and legs. its an awe shuck and the eye opener to me and everyone else that life is shorter, so we have to take a good care of ourselves, since next week is final exam, bla bla bla - aww, cut the crap. i hope they will get well soon. anyways no one died. thank God.

i had a gastric attack, right after i had dinner (fried maggi). its weird, right, had a gastric after you had your meal? it is a rare incident because i am usually well digested and i am pretty sure that i ate more than i usually had, (had taken three meals instead of two) how come this gastritis can come again. the last time i had this when i was in form 5 and it was horrible that i can barely move. so as this time, except, mom is not here, right at this moment to soothe the pain.

so i bought myself a glass/box/bottle of milk because milk can neutralize the acidic gas in the stomach.

and about 20 minutes later, hooray, i am all better. not exactly, the gas is still there. but i shall not make fuss for at least i can lie on bed like a starfish and not shrinking like the shrimp, restraining the pain.

and oh, i am pain in assssssssss, trying to read Joseph Andrews and now weighing whether i should finish it or leave it. hurm.