rashionized

trusty truth

Fri, 01 Jan 2010 19:49:23 GMT

one fine day, three old men went out on a little walk. coincidentally, an elephant had just escaped from the zoo. after all that confusion from the running and the shouting, the elephant was just standing in the middle of the road taking a breather. the first blind man bumped into it and exclaimed, 'why, darn bloody bastards have built a wall in the middle of the road!' 'oh you idiot, shut up, it's not a wall, it's just a tree!' said the second one as he hugged the elephants' thick legs. meanwhile, the third blind man touched the elephant's tusks and, grinning loudly, he whispered to the elephant, 'you must be one of 'em giants. i reckon you don't know our civilised culture very much if you're walking around flashing off everything to everyone. but i must say, you have one damn fine proof of a man! what's your secret?' weirded out by the three old men and their touching, the elephant went berserk and gave out a loud bellow. 'oh, i've heard of that sound before, on the telly, i have! my grandson told me it was the sound of this animal called the elephant!' said the second blind man. and because he was closest to the elephant's leg, he got stomped first before both the other blind men cried out in unison, 'what in blazes does an elephant look like?'

the moral of the story is that there are many versions of truth, depending on the extent and limitations of your senses. except that, really, there can really only be one truth. from there, what matters more is simply the accuracy and relevance of the story. however, lately, it seems that another version of truth is also probable. one where you tell something, whatever it is, to your heart over and over again. you believe in it, you trust it, you depend on it then yes, it becomes the truth for you. a beautiful story made complete by becoming a reality.

or, then again, would this be rather be called delusion instead?

Happy New Year people. Let's make it a good one.

Fri, 25 Dec 2009 17:14:41 GMT

Laugh, laugh, laugh!

Hello, good morning, good mourning, good bye! We prostrate, we lie, we chat, then die!

Oh what? It wasn't a joke? You were serious?

Oh stop! I'll laugh 'till I choke! You can't be serious!

Bleed me dry, go on and try, I'm not gonna ask why

Reasons are beyond me, no I can't fly.

Dies.

Dies ist nicht Ihr falsch. Dies ist nicht Ihr Schmerz.

It's as if you speak clown and I hear irony the voices they aren't going to stop and we aren't interested in stopping them I'm curious myself what's down there in the abyss? In the chasm? In the madness? I'm not allowed to jump in, neither of us are, reality demands our attention because the physical body is what affects the spiritual realm that is not ours to demand. Not ours.

Good day, good night, good bye!

You will promise me sweets, but I'd rather make you swear loyalty!

I will make masters as my servants.

-Nikochi-

We are Dreams

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 07:12:42 GMT

Dreams come reality.

I believe that God exists. And I have one ting to say; please forgive me.

The line of thinking whereby Westernisation equates modernisation is something I abhor.

We are worth more than what we would like to believe.

I'd like to think we treat ourselves fairly. But I'm probably wrong.

Sometimes, human emotion amaze me.

Human beings amaze me.

Swivel chairs are pretty amazing as well.

Things change easily and yet, there are things that don't change at all. Or maybe they've never changed in the first place, they just get a make over.

I shall return with more Hetalia pictures.

Dreams

Sun, 06 Dec 2009 19:16:33 GMT

Don't mess with Mother Russia. I find Russia's childish face as he threatens people/countries with his metal pipe to be extremely adorable.

****

Herr Eriykson leaned forward in his armchair, and twiddled his thumbs nervously. He couldn't sit still. This was his most prized armchair, boasted to be Herr Stuhlbauer's final masterpiece with its trademark elegant scroll design and intricate carving throughout its beech frame. But yet his bum itched and burned, and he stood up and walked to the fireplace.

"AaaaAAAHHHH!!!"

"Meine Dame, please, you need to PUSH!"

"This isn't good! Bring more hot water!!"

Herr Eriykson closed his eyes, fervently praying to God. He shifted his concentration to the crackle of the fire. It was a like a symphony of demonic voices that are whispering secrets meant for him alone. They speak of death, they foretell him doom, and they made him fidget as dysphoria closes in on him. He shook his head furiously. No! The birth of this child shall close the gap between he and his wife for sure. Herr Eriykson will show her that he can be a gentle father and a caring husband, and he will win back her love from whoever it was that had stolen her heart before he could.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

A baby's cries broke through, and Herr Eriykson immediately jumped to the large oak doors, ran down the hallway, and pushed open the lady's bedchamber.

For a moment, Herr Eriykson was transfixed at his wife and the bundle she's holding in her arms. She looked exhausted. Her beautiful golden hair was disheveled, her face was pale with knitted brows, like as if she were still in labour pain. Her empty eyes that reflected nothing in them didn't even flicker at Herr Eriykson as he moved next to her and took a peek at the baby.

It was very small, smaller than he thought it could be. It had a light tufts of pale yellow hair that he tenderly touched, as his heart filled and swelled with love. The baby moved, sensing his touch, and made feeble attempts to grab at the cuff of his sleeve. Herr Eriykson laughed, and asked, "Tell me, is it a son or a daughter?"

The doctor who was standing beside him gave a large gulp. "Herr Eriykson, there is something that you need to know about the baby..." he said.

Herr Eriykson recognized the anxiety in his friend the doctor. He straightened up and looked around in the room. It was the first he had noticed the strange chill in the air, and the nervous, frightened look of the nurses. One of them, whose name was Aayna caught his eye and immediately turned away in shame. Herr Eriykson's smile immediately faded. "What is the matter? This is the birth of my child, this is a joyous celebration, yet you are acting as if General Winter is in this very room with us," he said.

The doctor wiped sweat off his brow, and was about to say something when the lady interrupted. She had a strong, clear voice, and her words resounded in the room. "It is a boy," she said. All this while, she had been staring vacantly ahead of her. Now, she turned her attention to the baby in her arms, and brought it close to her. "It is a boy," she repeated, as if confirming her first statement.

Just then, the two-leaved doors open, and a maid stuck her head in. She did a quick curious glance throughout the room, the messy pile of blood-stained towels on the floor, the tub of hot water by the bedside, and the lady with the babe in her arms. "Pardon me, Herr Eriykson sir, but Herr Tomas wants a word with you. Says it's urgent, sir," she said as she sidled into the room. Herr Eriykson gave a longing look at his newborn son. Herr Tomas is an unreasonable man, but surely he'd relent on such an auspicious day. Then again, this would be a good time to inform him and the House of Lords of the birth of a son. He brightened up at the idea and gave a quick kiss to his son. He tried to kiss his wife on her neck, but she moved, and he ended up kissing the wall. Embarrassed, he whispered to her, "Ich liebe dich," and quickly left the room.

Herr Tomas was waiting for him just outside the door. He was a stout man, muscular and well-built, but his face was red and he was panting terribly. He must have rode here non-stop, and even then, ran up the entire flight of stairs to get to Herr Eriykson.

"Your wife, the lady, is she in labour?"

"Nay sir, no longer! It is a great joy, it really is! Come here, come here and take a seat! I shall have wine and good cheese prepared-"

"You mean it's born? The baby is born?"

"A son, sir! That reminds me, sir, what name do you think would be good for him? I like Nero, or Cae-"

"Kill it."

Herr Eriykson's ramblings stuttered to a halt. At first, he didn't quite hear Herr Tomas. But the words left an echo in his mind, and they repeated themselves over and over until his mind registered them. Even then, he couldn't be sure. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"Daniel, the child is not yours to begin with. It is a thing of abomination. The House of Lords agreed to marry you into the Family only because you agreed to keep our secret to the grave," hissed Herr Tomas. "We had prayed day and night for a miscarriage. Even His Majesty prayed. But now that it has come to this, we have no choice but to kill the-"

"No more!" shouted Herr Eriykson as he leapt up from his chair. His entire body was shaking from rage, and he balled his hands into fists so tightly that his knuckles whiten. It no longer mattered to him whether Herr Tomas was steward for the House of Lords, or His Majesty himself. It struck him that the lady has been mocked and her honour raped far too many times already. Her only cure now lies in the newborn baby, and he knows that the house needs the merry laughter of a child, they all need it...

"Being a foreigner to our lands and customs, I wonder if you might be familiar to the story of Lucas nel Serre?" said Herr Tomas suddenly. Herr Eriykson wondered at this sudden change of topic, but he replied honestly that he had never heard of the name before.

"He was the war tactician of the first Emperor, a curious boy, with an even more curious gift. He served the Emperor for twenty long years, helped him to unify the lands under one banner... brilliant mind, they say, and he'd never age a day," said Herr Tomas. "Even when the Emperor lay dying on his deathbed, Lucas nel Serre remained the same young boy as he ever was. Behind his back, the court and the senate called him Blue Demon. He was feared as much as he was respected by the people. Except for one person, the Crown Prince.

"The Crown Prince plotted his murder, but Lucas nel Serre managed to escape into the mountains in the northern forests at the boundaries of our great Empire, so they say. All was well, until one day, Lucas nel Serre reappeared. He brought a child-warrior with him, and a kaiserlichen Leibwache-"

"That is impossible, the Leibwache are sworn to the Emperor alone!"

Herr Tomas glared at Herr Eriykson for interrupting his story. "Regardless of what you say, history proves otherwise. History accounted how the child-warrior held a spear at the Crown Prince. Everything could have ended then, but Lucas nel Serre made a deal with the Crown Prince. In exchange for his life, he told His Majesty to leave the people of the northern forests alone. And in exchange for the continuity of the House of Lords, Lucas nel Serre vowed to keep watch over the Empire. However, if the Emperor turns into a tyrant, or if the House of Lords falls into a deep sin, then he shall return with people who are like him, demon children like him, and they shall tear the Empire in flames..."

"...If that is the folklore around here, then so be it. But what does this have to do with my son?" asked Herr Eriykson.

"You foolish man! That boy IS the sin of the House of Lords! He is not your son! Kill him, or give him to me so I can do the job myself!" snarled Herr Tomas. He grabbed at Herr Eriykson and shook the tall man. "Kill it, kill it!"

Herr Eriykson grabbed Herr Tomas' hands and struggled himself free. He pulled back his arm, and punched Herr Tomas hard in the face. It made a satisfying 'thwack' sound as the punch connected. Herr Tomas remained doubled over with his hands on his bruised cheek. He stared wildly at Herr Eriykson, trembling. "You...will pay for this..." he growled.

Herr Eriykson calmly made a fuss of straightening up his suit, although his heart was hammering away like mad. He struggled to maintain a steady voice. "I have decided on a name after all, Herr Tomas. You are welcome to attend the naming ceremony, if you have the free time, sir."

The steward wiped away the blood from his cut lip, look at it briefly and laughed dryly. "The dog has fangs after all," he said. "So? What's the name of the bastard prince who shall invite the wrath of Lucas nel Serre and his band of I.F, pray tell?"

"I shall name him after me sir. His name will be Daniel nel Eriykson."

once upon a winter

Wed, 02 Dec 2009 18:11:50 GMT

****

Ah, this cold and beautiful world! How interesting! Delightfully so!

Look, Königinmutter, look at these hands that shaped the man from the snow! My breath is coming out in pinpricks of ice, and whenever the wind blows, the cold clamps its fangs tightly into me. Its poison seeps into my marrows, sending shivers up and down my spine, slowing everything, freezing everything in its place. Like that wonderful atlas you showed me in the library, I can feel the intestines coil tighter in its abdomen, the muscles freeze and the heart slows down, down, down until it stops. Now, this heart is frozen and stuck in its ribcage. Isn't it good, Königinmutter? Now no thief can sneak up and steal it away from me. How convenient!

Caught glimpses of Papa and a puppe from behind the frosted glass. He really is a very generous man, my Papa. Look at how he helps warm her up this early in the morning. Rustle of skin and clothes. I can not hear it, but I've heard it many times to imagine the sounds. Those large hands of Papa's moved expertly under her skirts. His passionate thrusts matched her insistent clawing perfectly so. Oh, bravo Papa, see how he's managed to burn her up from within! Don't you think your husband is a brilliant man, my Königinmutter? Königinmutter? You have fallen silent all of a sudden. Are you perhaps still feeling somewhat ill?

Aaaah, is it because it is getting too cold? Then perhaps shall I help warm you up as well?

****

Please Please Please

Tue, 01 Dec 2009 15:23:00 GMT

You can tell there's something wrong when your favourite cat (imagine, if you will, that you are a total cat lover) fell sick, disappeared without a trace, and you can laugh about it like it's nothing big. There's a hole somewhere, somehow, and it's swallowing up everything that is supposed to be. Like that cat that you love.

Love. As if you actually understand that word. But once, you probably did understand it, and you probably understood it all too well. But somehow, there's a stupid black hole somewhere that's sucking up everything that is supposed to be. Like a kitty vacuum machine.

So sometime you end up worrying more about the hole rather than the cat, and you're worried about you worrying about the hole rather than the cat. Hmm...the cat is somewhat forgotten. And that worries you some more.

Want the cat. Want the cat. Want the cat. Want the want to want the cat.

Oh Rotte.

You people leave me too easily.

Oh well.

Oh wait?

No. Want the want. Whenever that happened.

Somebody knocked Something

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 02:17:38 GMT

Something rolling knocked someone else

Had GACC meeting for like, 50 minutes last night and all I could think about was, "Well, this is boring."
Which it was but that's besides the point. Hopefully it'll get more interesting sometime later. Chun How's my new partner as MC- yes, I'm playing master of the ceremony again- but he looked sort of mad at me. Probably because of the way I totally brushed him off during the GACC family outing. Sorry man, but that was totally about the trip and nothing about you.

Got some books from MPH as well, after having watched Astroboy (again) with Adibah and Halimah. I'm trying out Snow by Orhan Pamuk just out of curiosity's sake, and Jeff Lindsay's Darkly Dreaming Dexter as well. I've always found Dexter's self-monologue to be strangely relaxing and comforting, and it was a delight to find the novel written in exactly the same way. Or should I say, the TV series to have been written in the same way. At the same time, another Haruki Murakami title (Dance, dance, dance) has graced my bookshelf, simply waiting to pound my brain with its nonsensical logic and dark humour. Ah, love it. The perfect surrealist escape. At the current moment though am reading Sergei Lukyanenko's The Last Watch. So far it's been entertaining. But then again this holiday is not all for reading, unfortunately.

List of things to do:
1) Finish OB essay, and furnish it with own style so as to avoid plagiarism (BAD!)
2) Finish OB tooth carving... try not to make it so small
3) Collect teeth from Auntie Ina
4)Finalize roomies
5) Let loose Nikochi.

It's PARTY time!

Something that can't be seen

Sat, 21 Nov 2009 17:24:15 GMT

Astroboy is awesome!

Had a blast today. But was a bit tired and brain wasn't exactly functioning properly seeing as how it's been stretched from one point to another with Anatomy and Physiology. But the sight of Astroboy playing amongst the clouds (I thought it was an amazing bit of imagination power there) made me smile and think, 'How lovely!' It's good to be exposed to various elements of the world; the good, the bad and the ugly, if it could help one to mature, I think, but I will forever mourn the loss of innocence and... Astroboy is just symbolic to me in that sense. That bright optimism, childish sense of loyalty and general goodwill was what that delightful son of creativity represented to me. It may be naive and I fear, hypocritical of me to think of this, but he makes me want to think good of every single one of God's creatures. Ah, children of God, beloved of God.

Am I a hypocrite? To an extent, yes.

Jo Sze wasn't able to join us (Aliaa, Alissa, Hasyim, Nigel and Will) partly because she'd just climbed FRIM earlier this morning and was half-dead when I called her at...approximately 4.30pm. Shame, I would've loved to squeal over Astroboy with her. But Aliaa's whoop at the end of the movie took me by a bit of a surprise. She's just amazingly bubbly. Hasyim looked like he has came out of his hikikomori shell by a little while Nigel is good 'ol Nigel. Alissa looked perfect with Will and well, neither held back back and showing the world of their compatibility. I can't help but laugh out loud at thinking of the silly things we did today.

Funny thing that came to mind is how I went out with a group of Dental friends just the day before to watch another movie. They're a bit of a completely different set of group; terribly kind, and terribly different. It isn't kind of me to compare, but there shouldn't be anything wrong with pointing out the differences if one would not judge either group through tinted glasses.

One group can be described as a somewhat typical Malay-Muslim girls kind of outing, while the other was more mixed and sparkling with youthful vigor. Naturally I acted differently (somewhat) when in either group. It can get a little frustrating when I can't stay true to myself, but at the same time I think it's great that I have this opportunity to learn from these two different sets of surrounding. Ahahah, although that sorta brings out the question as to how far is one willing to swim either waters. Not to mention if it's actually worth it to be mixing around much too much in all these social games. But there are still many things that need understanding, and I hate having a one-sided argument where there is far too much attack on one side and pathetically little defense on the other. Although admittedly, it would depend on the mindset of persons involved and their open-mindedness in order to have a good and healthy argument. But honestly, it would be interesting! It would be interesting!

The product of coincidence

Fri, 30 Oct 2009 13:18:43 GMT

Except that there is no such thing as coincidence.

I was wiki-hopping the other day when I came across the page describing Graveyard of the Fireflies, which is a Studio Ghibli animated film about two war orphans. The story took place during WWII, and it received critical acclaims overall (but don't mind that, just take it from me that it is a good movie with heartfelt emotion). However, Wikipedia brought forth the information that some people were not happy with Graveyard of the Fireflies because they deemed it to be overly sympathetic to the Japanese when Japan was, at its best, a demonic bastard. Remember the massacre of China? Pearl Harbour bombing? Such resentment is understandable. The world forgives, but it does not forget. Tanah Melayu had her own share of problems with the Japanese. And when the Allies (okay, specifically America) let loose all its wrath on Japan, well that ought to even things up for a bit. Although nobody's actually keeping score, especially not in war. You just hit back whatever thing that hits you first, or find some excuse to hit something so that it makes it look like as if something did hit you first so that it looks kinda sorta fair. Except that it's not. People die, regardless of what side they're on. It doesn't matter if they died while defending their country or invading another country as a political movement or idealogy, they still end up dead. And for this group of critics who find it hard to sympathize with a couple of children (the elder one is aware of war, the younger one is not aware of the full extent of war, the elder one fully supports Japan and their father who is in the Navy, while the younger one just wants her mum back) I find it hard to think that Obama's philosophy of 'Yes, we can!' is going to work on 'Yes, we can eradicate world wars!'. No, really, people, Obama is not God :(

It's times like these that make me laugh and cry at humanity. Even more so when a group actually had to come forward and defend the rationale of the said award-winning Ghibli film.What was the reason that they gave? That the movie was to depict the socio-economics impact of war, I think, and about how war affects the other nation too (the bad one that went on a conquering spree that is). From my point of view, when I watched the movie, I saw two children; a boy who became a young man ahead of his time, and a little sister with rosy cheeks but ribs that jut out and sores at her back because they itch so badly but they have no food to buy, let alone medicine. Figure the rest out by yourself. So my question is, the people that dissed out on Graveyard of the Fireflies, did they really watch the same movie I did, or did they fall asleep halfway and wake up to the seal-killings programme?

Of course historical related stuffs depend on which side you're taking a peek at. But generally, all these war movies boil down to is that being a bully and preying on the weak is bad because of moral issues and in the end of the day there's going to be an even bigger bully that beats the crap out of you. Except we like to call them the big saviour instead because that's what they are :) So naturally, Malaysian history textbooks condemn Communism (so does my arwah Pak Tok). However, a BM teacher of mine had a Communist aunty and apparently they often had heart-to-heart talks with each other. A favourite topic of discussion was of course, Communism. So she later relayed to us how the idealogy made sense at some points and how it's ultimately designed to improve lives. I'm sure she's right, but some parts of the world still detest the Red Book just as much as some people detest al-Quran. Which brings to mind another example. Malaysian media often portrays the plight of the Palestinians sympathetically (which, I just have to add here, doesn't exist because there is no such thing as Palestine country because political and religious driven factors deny these people the right to have a home) whereas CNN or BCC would concentrate on showing bleeding Israelis with their broken houses. I get the reasoning behind such biased treatment but at the same time, I don't understand. Just what is it exactly about us as human beings that justify our right to actually be treated as a human being? What crime can be so great that you don't deserve any right to be pitied after having lost so badly?

Anesthesia

Sun, 18 Oct 2009 15:07:23 GMT

The Truth That Happened Three Years Ago

Taiyou banged the door open and shouted, "Where is he?"

The man with the goggles turned to look at Taiyou. He was about to mix in one drop, just one drop; of the precious sample that Ash had worked so hard to get and he very nearly squeezed out the entire vial. The goggles misted over as he let out a huge sigh of relief. "He's bathing," he answered.

"He's been bathing for the past couple of hours," Terika's voice came up lazily from the shadowy corners of the room. She stepped out into the light slowly with her arms crossed, and her features lost in deep thought. Something about the screen readings held her entire concentration. She barely felt anything when Taiyou brushed past her to get to the bathroom. A while later, another door opened with an even louder bang.

"Ash!" shouted Taiyou. The shower was turned on full blast, and the entire place was thick and heavy with steam. She could barely make out the outline of the bathtub. Water was overflowing so much so that when she opened the door; a steady stream flowed past her feet and onto the carpets. For a moment, she hesitated. She had never seen Ash this disturbed. For a while, she wasn’t sure what she should do. “Ash,” she said again. Good. Her voice was firm, and that gave her some confidence. She walked over to the bathtub, and to the figure behind the drawn shower curtain.

“We are truly living in decadence when a woman shamelessly walks in on a man bathing. But let us forget about moral values, it is all just a big bore anyway.”

Despite the heavy tension in the air, Taiyou found herself smiling at Ash’s usual curt temper. At least, he hasn’t lost all of himself. Taiyou kneeled next to the tub, and supported herself over the edge with her elbows. She looked directly at the shadow behind the curtain and wondered about the expression Ash had on his face.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Dirty,” he answered.

The curtain rings rattled loudly as Taiyou pulled the curtain away. More water that was held back by the curtain spilled over to the floor. Taiyou quickly stood up and turned off the shower. She turned so hard that the knob creaked and the spigot shuddered. Ash was sitting down in the flooded bathtub with his arms around his knees, and he had his face in the direct line of the water. His skin was red and raw; but what worried Taiyou mostly was the tired slump of his shoulders, the slack facial expression and the vacant look in his eyes. And when Taiyou gets worried, she gets angry.

“What shameless woman were you referring to exactly, the one who’s here to save you from drowning yourself?” she snapped. “And being dirty is no lousy excuse to cut off all communications with me and bathe like a, like a lobster and hurt yourself and- and-“ Taiyou was hyperventilating. There were lumps in her throat that blocked her airway. The mist was getting into her eyes as well. She rubbed at them angrily, dropped herself to Ash’s level and said, “You’re not dirty at all!”

Her words echoed around the bathroom with a blooming clarity, like some kind testament. The two of them became silent backdrops with their eyes transfixed on each other. Brown on blue, blue on brown. Ash closed his eyes with the words as they softened near the end. He let his head fall back low until the water reaches his nape, and murmured, “If only I could see the things that happen behind locked doors.”

Ash had his eyes on the ceiling, but Taiyou knew all too well that the only thing he could see now is a simple wooden door with a bronze doorknob. The door is attached to no wall but darkness. There’s no way to get around the door, and the key is either lost or damaged. How many times has Ash tried to open it, only to turn away defeated? But he’ll go to the same door from time to time. Because there are voices on the other side that compel him to listen. Low voices that dripped with honey and laced with poison. The voices terrified him, but-

“But if I can’t remember, then I can never make right what is wrong with me. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s broken. But that door! I need to open it, I need it or-“ Ash moved frantically, hitting at the water surface and making the water jump all around them. Taiyou held him by the shoulders and said something to him, but Ash pushed her away, and shouted, “I need it or I won’t ever be at peace with myself!”

Taiyou tightened her grip and in one swift motion, enclosed Ash in her arms. She hugged him hard enough that she could feel his heart beating against hers. His body was burning up. He struggled at first, but then he put his arms around her and hugged her back.

“Taiyou...I can’t help anyone,” he whispered.

Hearing that, Taiyou felt like she was holding a younger version of Ash, like the time during the One War. It was an awful battle, one that damaged the small I.F group terribly. “You always did expect too much of yourself, and too little of other people,” she replied. “Honestly, you place way too many restrictions on everything. People need to be hurt in order to learn to better themselves.”

“I killed so many,” he cried.

Once again, Taiyou felt that Ash grew smaller and younger. Now she was holding the teenage boy Lucas nel Serre, the war advisor to the first Great Emperor. That was when she, Kim Tay-Lourette first met him. He was so formal and distant then. The waves of nostalgia threatened to sweep her away to the mountains in her past, but she held on tight to the boy in her arms and said fiercely, “You saved my people, you rescued Aisha and damn it, you’re going to save millions!”

“I’m tired.”

Ikeda Haruki, the farmer boy in the patchwork clothes moved in her arms and looked at Taiyou. Blue on brown, brown on blue. Taiyou gasped. His lonely gaze was something that Taiyou had never seen on Ash. Something about the little child looked as if he has already accepted defeat. He was ready to be made the sacrificial lamb. In the far distant of Ash’s memories, Taiyou could hear the angry roar of a mob and the crackle of a hungry fire. Further back still was the door. “My God,” she said, and closed her eyes tightly against this madness. She could no longer tell whether this illusion is Ash’s doing or her own, or if it was any illusion at all. “My God,” she prayed in a trembling voice, “Please give me strength to support this man.” She leaned forward as she prayed, until her forehead made contact with Ash’s. The two of them stayed like that for a while. And for a while, it was good.

Ash was the first person to stir. The water had gotten cold, and Taiyou had just realised how chilly the place is. “Get me something to wear, please,” he said softly.

A few minutes later, Taiyou remerged with a white cloak. She helped him get out of the tub and fastened it around him as best as she could. Ash allowed her to look after him, and he allowed himself to lean on her. Slowly, the two walked out into the room. Terika and the man with the goggles were waiting for them. Sometime while the two of them were in the bathroom, Ai had entered the room and joined them as well. She held one of the charts in her hands, but she looked nervous and kept darting quick glances at Terika.

“So? What did the analysis tell us?” said Ash. His voice was low and he stooped a little. But Taiyou nodded reassuringly at them, compelling them to continue.

“The saliva sample you got from Yuura nel Bastien synchronizes perfectly with the data that we constructed from the Seed Project. But it is still too early to tell if Yuura is indeed the Seed that we have been waiting for. He remains just a potential candidate,” said the man with the goggles.

“Even so, Yuura would not do as the final I.F,” said Ash. “The man wants to be an immortal. We have long ago decided that anything with physical form need to die. I suggest we go back to concentrating on developing Myoishi Kaiga, and come up with a plan to dispose of Yuura nel Bastien.”

“Well, if it’s like that then all we need to do is set up Kaiga-kun against Yuura,” said Taiyou cheerfully. “The strongest candidate wins, and he gets to become the final I.F.”

“Even so,” said Terika loudly and clearly. Everybody in the room sensed the hostility in her voice. Even her entire body seemed tense and poised for a fight. “Anything that’s living has the right to fight to continue to live. If Yuura becomes the final I.F, that means we can still find a way to overcome the so-called end you’d foreseen.”

Ash met her fierce gaze sternly. He said, “I understand your feelings, but that is not possible.”

“You think like everything is already writ in stone!” cried Terika. “There has got to be some way to help us, and the Seed Project doesn’t necessarily need to be the end of everything! In fact, I think it might just be the very thing that saves us!”

“No,” was Ash’s reply.

“Then I propose that we divide into two factions,” said Terika. “One side will have Yuura as the potential candidate, and the other with Kaiga as the potential candidate.”

Ai gasped loudly while Taiyou snapped herself to attention. She thought she heard it wrongly, but she was sure she didn’t. Perhaps Terika was joking then, although that would be very uncharacteristic of her. And it would make a very sick joke. However, one look at Terika’s face clarified the gravity of the situation. She was serious. “You’re talking about betraying the I.F?” asked Taiyou.

“You can put it however you’d like,” said Terika as she crossed her arms. “And I don’t really care if you approve of my proposal or not. I’m still going to go through with it.”

The room was dimly lit to begin with, but the sombre atmosphere made the dark even more oppressive. Ai fidgeted with a corner of the chart. She had heard whispers in the bathroom, and she could practically see the machinations of Terika’s reasoning as the slight woman pored over the chart readings. Finally, she couldn’t hold the desire forming in her heart any longer.

“I think, I believe that Ash might have been wrong too,” she said. All eyes turned to her, and she could feel the blood rushing to her head at all the attention she’s getting. Her hands started to tremble, so she held on to the chart tighter for comfort. “It’s just that, I’d like to see for myself, you know, another possible end rather than the one Ash predicted. And I’m willing to fight for it too.”

“And so do I,” said Secret. He took off his goggles and set them carefully aside. The tall man rose up to his full height and stood next to Terika. “I believe that Yuura might be able to save us as well.”

Taiyou’s mouth drooped open. Her mind was stunned, and she could barely believe what she’s seeing. Ash, however, had long suspected such thoughts to be brewing within Terika’s minds. But to see it come to fruition still weakened him considerably. Secret’s allegiance to Terika is obvious, but he didn’t expect to lose Ai as well. Perhaps he didn’t know his I.F members as well as he thought.

“Open the video lines to Nikochi and Anton,” said Ash. Instantly, a hologram image showing the upper body of a man in his early twenties emerged.

“Terika, what is the meaning of this?!” shouted Anton angrily. Information in the temporary control room had been periodically transmitted every few seconds to each I.F, so he had known word for word of the conflict transpiring within. He had just been waiting for the video line to vent out his anger.

“How is Yuura doing, Anton?” asked Ash curtly.

“Fine, the bastard’s looking happy,” said Anton distractedly while his eyes flickered to something beyond the hologram capture. “Putting that aside for now, Terika you bitch, how dare you betray the I.F?? You’ll be sent to the Gate for this!”

Terika rolled her eyes and said, “Technically I’m only betraying Ash you foul-mouthed dolt. The Seed Project was designed to come up with a final I.F and now that we’ve got two potential candidates, I’m merely helping the group come up with a decision.”

“That doesn’t justify betrayal! You-“

“Secret, what’s happened to the line with Nikochi?” asked Ash while Terika and Anton continued their bickering in the background. Secret moved his right hand across the control orbs while his other sped across the keypads as he checked for signs of anomalies. Finally, he shook his head. “Nothing ought to be wrong, but the line won’t connect. I will set you up with a voice connection though,” he said.

A sharp sound pierced through temp control room, forcing Terika and Anton to quieten down. It continued for a few seconds before settling down into static. Ash frowned at the loud interference. “Taiyou, how was Nikochi like when you left her at the hospital?” he asked. Taiyou shook her head and said, “She was fine, nothing seemed out of place with her.”

Hearing that only worried Ash more.

In hospital miles away from the Bastien Academy for Blood, Nikochi cheerfully sang a nonsensical song with made up words and arrhythmic beat. The patient, one comatose boy named Hatake Ren lay unchanged with the blanket up to his chest. Meanwhile, on the other side of the bed, a very angry Myoishi Kaiga stood next to the respirator machine. He glared angrily at Nikochi. The girl just simply stared back with a knowing smile and her tuneless songs.

Nikochi swerved left and right with the wheelchair she was sitting in, when she perked up all at once and said loudly, “Oh, Ash-kun! Hullo! You wouldn’t believe the things that happen in hospital wards. They’re nearly as scandalous as betrayal back in HQ.”

“I take it you’ve heard everything that’s happened?”

“Yup yup, loud and clear. Except that bit about Ninny calling Terika a bitch. It was a bit soft I think, wouldn’t mind hearing it again loud and clear. Come on now, give me a B! I! T-“

“What the hell are you playing at?” asked Kaiga irritatedly. Nikochi turned her head slightly to one side, imitating the look of a curious puppy she once saw in an advertisement. The dog chewed at its master’s slippers to bits, and the human scolded the dog angrily. But the dog only gave this tiny reaction in return, as if saying ‘Because it’s fun to see you mad.’

“I think what you were playing with just now, Kai Baby, is a lot more serious than whatever it was I was playing at,” she grinned. Kaiga narrowed his eyes at her, and gritted his teeth in frustration. In a way, she was right. He still had his finger on the power supply switch for the respirator machine. Sweat trickled down his brow. Whatever it was that he’s planning to do, it wasn’t a game. Life never was any kind of game.“You’re lucky I blocked the signal for a video call. Otherwise, your future colleagues might just catch a glimpse of your dirty deed,” smiled Nikochi and made a motion with her thumb and forefinger.

“Asshole, don’t ever think that I’m going to join your group! I am not an I.F,” said Kaiga.

“Interestingly enough, you weren’t exactly born an I.F, no. Genetics aren’t my forte usually, that’s more like, Ash-kun and Ai-Pie, but your case and Yuura’s case are extremely interesting,” said Nikochi. “Your birth was planned from A to zero, and it took generations of cross-breeding to get to your parents. Who, by the way, did you know; they were related to each other in 23 different ways? Your mother is your father’s daughter who can also be described as your mother’s son, although that’d be through your uncle, and-“

With a roar, Kaiga stormed at Nikochi and slammed her to the floor. He grabbed at her neck and started to squeeze at it when Nikochi laughed out loud, “Family! It can be a real fucked up thing can’t it Kai-chan?Oooh, I should know, I've had my fair share! We've all had our fair share of fucked up families, yet still we group up and band together to form one big happy family! And with you, baby brother, why, we would be complete!”

“I should just kill you right here and right now, and let that be the end of everything,” growled Kaiga.

“Oh? But what if I say that I can bring Ren back to life?” said Nikochi. At first, Kaiga looked stunned. Then, one of his eyebrows rose higher than the other while his mouth opened slightly as his muscles of facial expression worked out the emotion ‘confusion’. Nikochi took pleasure in recording every movement related to the muscular transition. Kaiga’s nose flared up a bit half a second later, and she laughed out loud at this. Kaiga, thinking that he’d been made a fool, recovered his initial anger full blast and slammed Nikochi’s head against the floor once, twice. He would have continued and would have liked nothing more than crack her skull open were it not for Nikochi crying out, “Truth! Truth!”

Reluctantly, he stopped. “You can bring Ren back?” he said.

Nikochi nodded furiously. “Ash-kun had just granted me a Level 5 usage. It’ll be the first time I get to work on humans so it’ll be fun-“

“Ren isn’t just some experiment you play your evil games with!” shouted Kaiga. “What the hell, wasn’t he your friend??”

That sobered Nikochi somewhat. She looked long and hard at Kaiga, and then she turned her head upwards to the bed. From the floor, she can barely make out the blonde topping on Ren’s head. But she knows from memory that the boy is barely breathing, barely alive.

“Whether it is.... against his will.... or Tartarus.... I.... can drag him back..... to this place you are at,” she promised. Kaiga frowned. Something seemed different. He took one hard look at Nikochi. It was like a new Nikochi had taken over. All the mischievous provocations had disappeared, but something dark wafted from every pore on her skin. No, this isn't any new Nikochi. It was like a veil had been lifted to reveal a different side of her. Kaiga couldn't quite place the sensation, but she seemed to him like she had just woken up. Nikochi was finally properly awake. Her eyes shined brilliantly in the shadows. He could see himself reflected in them. He could see himself falling into a chasm of nothingness, and be swallowed by this creature before him.

With a gasp, Kaiga quickly stood up over by Ren. But the moment passed in an instant, and the usual Nikochi was back in her place. “Okay, here’s the deal,” she smiled. “Later on there’s gonna be some formalities, just because Ash likes them. When your turn comes, say your name, your position, and whose side you’re on. Are we clear and ready?”

“Huh?”

Just then, six holograms appeared scattered around the room. Ash’s hologram appeared near the in the middle of the room, near to the foot of the bed. He appeared the same as he had always been, calm and collected. With a steady gaze, he began the ceremony.

“Haruki Ikeda. I am Peace, who chooses to side with the Seed Myoishi Kaiga.”

“Kim Tay-Lourette. As Strength, I choose to side with the Seed Myoishi Kaiga.”

“Aldur, son of Manil, is Secret that sides with the Seed Yuura nel Bastien.”

“Aisha Seri Haldunnya. I am Love, who chooses to side the Seed...Yuura nel Bastien.”

“Anton nel Glaviskoy. Justice will side with the Seed Myoishi Kaiga!”

“Terika of the Beldonnay Tribe. For this battle of Hope, Truth chooses to side with the Seed Yuura nel Bastien," proclaimed Terika. She said the words slowly and carefully. They carried a lot more weight than she previously expected. In the temp control room, she was looking directly into the transmitter, but from a corner of the eye she was painfully aware of Ash. Each movement that he made registered itself to her. She saw the hurt that flickered across his eyes each time the I.F voiced their sides. He maintained the formal air around him, but she knows that he's crumbling down inside. Terika was breaking his heart just as much as she was breaking up the I.F.

Nikochi realised that as well. So she decided to even things for a bit.

"The battle of Hope is a terribly nice name and all," she said, "But I think it would be more apt to call it the Traitors' Gathering."

The effect was instantaneous. A loud gasp was heard from Ai who quickly covered her mouth with her hands as she struggled to stifle the incoming sobs. Ash and Taiyou both cried out, "Nikochi!" while Terika lurched forward but a hand, presumably Secret's, held her back. Nikochi took this all in with barely containable glee. She had broken down Terika's controlled posture and revealed the pain that she was holding back herself. Terika probably didn't want this to happen as much as Ash, but she had calculated it to be a necessary risk that she has to take. Come what may be, she was willing to be branded a traitor forever. Nikochi had just confirmed that for herself. However, doing so had hurt the other members of the I.F as well. She had pointed out the obvious while everybody else was trying to go around the subject of the matter. The formalities are just sparkles and glitters that cushioned the treachery in order to help ease the currently tense relationship between the I.F. Nikochi very nearly snapped the entire thing apart.

Terika pulled her arm away from Secret and was about to say something but Ash quickly interrupted her. "Your suggestion was duly noted. Although this is hardly the time to be discussing about names, personally I wouldn't mind calling it Seed Project Phase II."

"Objected," this came from most of the I.F. Anton and Nikochi however, gave a thumbs up.

Terika smiled dryly to herself. Nobody else knows how to handle Nikochi like Ash does. That, and the mess that she has a tendency to leave behind. But there are some mess that even Ash wouldn't be able to clean up. Terika reminded herself that as she regained her composure. The reason she was willing to drag her name through mud was to make sure that such a thing doesn't happen.

Once the commotion had died down for a bit, Ash turned to Nikochi. "Weren't you supposed to be saying something?" he asked. Nikochi loudly said, "Oh, yeah! For this battle, el khaos wants to stay away from the fighting," said Nikochi . Her eyes flickered over to Kaiga, and she gave him a bright smile. "There are things that I need to bring back. Then again, that kinda sorta depends on the situation as well."

Kaiga gulped. Behind him, the whirr of machines echoed loudly in his ears as they pumped air into Ren. The doctors have explained to him how his partner is already technically dead. Manmade contraptions was all that kept him here. But each breath that was being forced into him only prolonged his suffering. Each second that he remained here, seems to Kaiga, a pain that he didn’t deserve. But now Nikochi had presented him with an extreme possibility that he couldn’t dare to dream about. If he accepted her offer, he would have to agree to take part as an I.F. He would have to accept whatever role they designed him to be.

A loud static broke his thoughts and a familiar voice that sent shivers down his spine rang aloud in the ward room.

“I am the Seed called Yuura nel Bastien,” said a white-haired man on one of the hologram projections. His glasses reflected light so his eyes can’t be seen, but his weasel-like face grinned broadly side to side. The dark suit that he wore hung on his sinewy body frame just nicely to show his collar bones. On one hand, he held a champagne flute. With it he made a mock toast to Ash. “I shall contend in this battle for the right to be Hope, the final I.F. That is, provided that my young opponent is willing to accept my challenge.”

Kaiga immediately rose up and said loudly, “God damnit. I don’t give a shit about I.F this or whatever, but if I’m going to do one thing, then it’s going to be to rip that fake skin off your face.”

“Kaiga, do it properly,” reminded Ash sternly.

The boy let out an irritated sound and shot Ash a dirty look. He complied all the same. “I’m the Seed Myoishi Kaiga. I don’t need to claim any right to being the final I.F,” he said. Yuura threw him an amused look. It infuriated Kaiga, but he struggled to keep his cool. He needed to do this for Ren. Even so, deep down in his heart, he knew that it was just pretence. He needed a facade to reassure himself that he’s doing this out of his own free will, not due to any manipulation on the I.F’s part. He may be something that they’ve created, but this soul, this mind, this beating heart are all him. He didn’t need any recognition. Because-

“I already am Hope.”

Insight

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 18:30:23 GMT

Modern technology is a wondrous form of communication and, in times when friends lead separate lives, they play an even bigger role in maintaining contact. Blogs such as these offer more than just simple conversation, but an insight into a person's mind. Furthermore, it gives one control over the expression of one's thoughts more effectively than any kind of spoken speech. The written word can be checked and edited repeatedly until the time when it's published, whereas the spoken word is not so easily taken back.

The problem however, lies with the unspoken words. Those repressed feelings that are forming at the tips of your tongue but is bitten back, swallowed and buried. So many possibilities get lost before anything could ever begin. And I repeatedly erase any chances of such possible futures because I, truth be told, am terrified of them. By speaking up, it means that I've made a decision. This ultimately brings about to either a positive effect or a negative effect. I am apprehensive of both because they're both unknown waters. So I chose to remain the stagnant pool.

On the other hand, how long can unspoken words remain unspoken? Humans in general feel the need to connect with people and conduct relationships. It's human nature and a basic survival sense. Human companionship is warm and brings a great deal of benefit. But at the same time it's an emotional investment where the stock prices can get extremely unstable. Are the returns as sweet as what was promised? Or is the loss simply a pain that is too much to bear? Still, I don't mean to imply that the stock market is something akin to humanity, it was just an illustration to describe my confusion in such things. I do not understand how the stock market works at all.

From what I've seen, it basically takes courage, strategy, patience and a little bit of luck to bring about words that can strike into a form of communication between people and hopefully, later on, a kind of relationship. I have too much patience, and I don't believe in such things as lucky chances. But if I could go back to the time when I was swept away with emotions, instead of this mechanical doll programming that I've set myself into, I would like the chance to confess to him and see where the road would have taken me. I might get hurt, or I might get even more confused than I am now, and I know that I'll definitely get very embarrassed...but thinking back upon it now I regret that I didn't do it just so that I could get it off my chest.

That is in the past however, and life is about maturing with every challenge that it presents you with. This time, I'd like to try and say what's on my mind the next time I happen to crush on someone hard enough to make me feel flustered around him. That, and this one other story that needs either an ending or a continuation. This one story that gave me courage to speak up about the power of words but unfortunately, is also a story that scares me of is consequences. It makes me realize that there are double-edged swords involved whenever emotion comes to play. The worst bit of it is when you become blinded by emotion. Or when one ignores ones' emotions far too much.

wet blanket

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 03:45:55 GMT

Yay for Wednesdays and holidays! Just went over to Tebrau City Mall's TGV cinema, and thanks to Kak Ina, 3 innocent little girls (supposedly, anyway) watched 'The Ugly Truth'! Once again, let me just say yay for Wednesdays and the discounts we get on this lovely day. It makes watching the movie slightly less horrible.

Honestly, if ever there is a romance comedy designed for guys, this would probably be it. Along with 'Knocked Up' I suppose, which is another movie that I couldn't stand despite the fact it has somewhat similar basic plot as Juno. An oopsie preggerz story and all the ladidadida that comes along with it. Unwanted pregnancy isn't in on any of my lists of good movies of the year, but Juno had wit whereas Knocked Up was something that I'd like to knock out in the first 10 minutes of the show.

I had the same feeling while watching 'The Ugly Truth' actually, and a right mind to leave the cinema and buy another ticket for that Korean Tsunami movie. But I reckoned that might be rude, so despite the fact I was seriously pissed off at the movie content, I sat and watched until the whatever bit of sex scene that survived Malaysian movies censorship at the end there. Talking about censorship, they missed out on a few bits and normally with a 18+ movie I'd have preferred the movie raw and uncut. But this time, I'm quite grateful for the censorship wisdom-amity.

Seriously, that movie is not for me. I was thinking more along the lines of '27 Dresses' which I rather enjoyed when I saw Katherine Heigl's pretty face on the posters. I momentarily forgot that she was also the main actress for 'Knocked Up'. I was just so desperate to get out of the house and watch a movie. This memory palace of mine works selectively. Why was I so angry with the movie in the first place? Uhmmmm...for a romance comedy it's un-romantic. My definition of romance however is similar along the lines of Aragorn and Arwen and as Mike would say, 'Aw that's sweet honey but it's also fucking bullshit. Men just want pretty holes to jack off with, and that's the ugly truth :)'

Sorry about that.

I've been watching way too many blockbuster films in the cinemas lately. This is extremely unbecoming of Sakinah, seeing as how my movie tastes are usually a bit...out there. Usually I'd just buy a cetak rompak version (piracy is a crime people, and as Adibah would often say, haram, and for that I have no excuse. But I'd much rather spend RM8 buying a pirated copy of a tasteless multi-million Hollywood project just to get some cheap adrenaline rush...while keeping up with the movie trends rather than RM11 for a one-time show in a hall of people that makes too much unnecessary noise). DC Comics movies are also a favourite hate, with the exception of 'V For Vendetta'. It could have been Natalie Portman's charm or the idea that it brings out effectively and...bravely enough. But all hero comics are ideas that will not die. What made V stand out was the dialogue. It didn't have the babble-talk of angst ridden saviours of the world but rather, the brilliant speech of a man with ideas. The style where its main moral values is brought out into the open fresh and raw is somewhat uncharacteristic of American comics. Or in fact, most fiction stories. But I like a good sushi and V is toro.

Other than that, Mak Tok has been staring out into the unknown more often lately. It's Raya, and it's been only a month or so since arwah Pak Tok passed away so this is understandable...but I wonder what's going on inside her mind? Nadia has been engaging her in more conversations lately while I still remain cooped up in my anti-social shell. Honestly, there are some things we sisters are so alike in, and at the same time there are also a lot of things where we're like night and day. Diversity adds to the fun of life, I suppose.

Oh, and updated! I just found out that the reason Mak Tok is not beraya-ing (our whole family uses this term, seriously) is because she's in id'ah. Edah? Idah? It's a mourning time that lasts for 40 days where it's not encouraged for the widow to leave the house I think. Kinda reminds me of the time when Jo's grandfather passed away and her family wasn't able to celebrate CNY for a couple of years or so. The loss of a loved one hurts. And that is it.

touch the skull dearly

Tue, 22 Sep 2009 14:29:48 GMT

I remember a few things that I don't want to remember, and I've forgotten a lot that I probably should remember.

This body has forgotten a lot more than the mind has, I can vouch for that. When you smiled yes, these hands waved to the front, while my mind frowns and says, 'No, that's not something I would do.' When you told me a story, these lips curved a smile while my mind sighs and says, 'No, that's the wrong thing to do.'

When you hurt me, the body stays quiet for a while and asks the mind what should it do. The mind answered, 'Aaaah, love manipulates us in the strangest of ways. I say we forgive, and forget.'

When you hurt me again, the body remembers this past transgression and once again asks the mind what should it do. 'It is useless, we will be hurt time and time again if this were to continue. I'll seal away the heart, and the two of us will sleep quietly for a while.'

But it's hard for the heart to forget anything. It remembers every bubble of joy that it has flown with, and it knows every scar that's buried underneath the healed skin. My heart grumbles and worries about it day and night, until the body became upset and the mind woke up.

So the mind decided, 'Let's be mature about things and grow up with the changing times.'

While the body decided, 'The next time my heart aches, I will kill everything that upsets it.'

****

My friends often said that I'm bipolar. I know they meant it as a joke but lately, being depressed thanks to Dentistry is not funny. And what's a person with MP supposed to do when one of her alter-egos becomes bipolar herself? Although in this case, I really don't think it's a joke. In fact, Nikochi might have been a bipolar since the very beginning, but it just so happened that the first few years were her good ones.

Along the way, I'd like to wish all HAPPY EID! Please control the eating ;__;
I gained 5kg in less than 3 hours during the first day of Raya. Some of the things I ate then was Nasi Briyani, McD porridge, laksa Penang, chicken stew, pulut with ayam masak merah, and lots and lots of cookies. This goes on until the 3rd Raya. My belly feels like bursting any moment now. I feel extremely unhealthy. Not to mention a glutton. Should consider doing zakat, even though it's not wajib for me as of yet.

Arrgh, but I wouldn't mind zakat-ing some of these cookies.

We're not Written in Black And White

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 14:15:21 GMT

Hello and good day to readers out there. For the time being I've decided to update using LJ mainly for two reasons. The CC I'm currently using seems to have a weird antagonistic relationship with Blogger, and I'm just more comfortable with the font LJ is using. It's wide and spacey so it's easy to read as I type out this post.

As for why I'm blogging, simple enough it's because I've started my dentistry course here at UM and I have quite a few tales to tell. For those curious to know more about the course here in UM, it's called Bachelor of Dental Surgery (BDS) as opposed to Degree of Dental Surgery (DDS) coming from other public universities. For the moment I am not sure about private colleges. That said, BDS graduates apparently are qualified for jobs in other Commonwealth countries as well as the UK. Clearly, it is a prestigious and respected course that carries much value. In order to maintain this honour, the UM Dental Management is taking all means to ensure the continuity of excellence from students. In fact, for students who find it hard to cope, the percentage of students who had to take supplementary exam is nearly 50%, and almost 10% has to repeat the year.Yes, I am proud to say that I'll be undertaking a course that is surely not to be taken lightly. But a summary on Faculty of Dentistry at UM is not what I'm here for.

First of all, 'ragging'. It's a subject much spoken of in boarding schools and universities. There's the Royal Flush (a treatment spoken only in whispers), midnight kidnaps, flour throwing, name callings and oscenities being but a few of them. Whenever I hear talk about these things, I'd usually relate it to the 70's, 80's, but certainly not the 21st century. Or at least, not here in Malaysia and least of all in UM. But the case here, ladies and gentlemen is that such tradition persists in our oldest university of Malaysia. I've been subject to but a day of maltreatment and I'm already questioning the sanctity of the BDS course, of honour, pride, and respect. Because it's my fervent belief that respect is to be gained and not commanded. No amount of shouting or throwing one's 'final-year' status would do much good. Admittedly, I am but an ignorant freshman who requires support from the seniors not only academically, but emotionally as well. If I am to be compared against a senior, I openly declare that I know nothing. As thus, I would ask for help from those more experienced.

Even so, I don't think I minded the process much. I just hope that I will not be amongst those who leave a terrifying first impression on newbies later on in the future. InsyaAllah. Reason? Because I find it ironic and awkward to be shouted at one moment, and later bump into each other in the surau while taking one's wudhu'. It's just...weird, and pathetically sad for reasons unknown. But whatever, I think that as long as I ride out the ragging issue, I'll be fine. Deep down, I just hope that our future dentists would treat their patients, friends and families with the same respect that they would like to be given in return. Because, hey, didn't the saying goes something like 'do unto others what you'd like others do unto you' kind of thing?

Secondly, before I begin my next topic I would like to apologize beforehand. I am going to touch, no, discuss on a topic all Malaysians would be extremely familiar with, if not the entire world. It's also one of the most sensitive issues a Malaysian could possibly bring up. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to talk about rascism. I am a registered Malay, although I'm half Jawa, a bit of Bugis and other miscellania (isn't it practically impossible to find a pure *insert race*? It seems like majority of Malaysians are actually mixes). I did not finish kindergarten, I attended four different primary schools but have been a member of SMK Tropicana from Form 1 to Form 5. As for pre-U, I attended PASUM for a one year course. I'm stating my past education record because I believe that one's education system, and the exposure one has during schooldays is a vital process of growing up. Much of our adult perception is based on the experiences we had during our childhood.

Since the very start, I had been exposed to other races (if I didn't, I wouldn't be very Malaysian would I). In fact, I am very proud to say that the friends who've stayed with me throughout all these years are all of various races, again for reasons unknown. Can it be due to the shared history we had? I don't know. I just like to leave it at, 'We're comfortable with each other, we can relate to one another

IMPORTANT

Tue, 23 Jun 2009 17:01:22 GMT

A giggle escapes her throat like the burbling spring water, and she immediately covers her mouth with both hands. But she ended up doubling over with her elbows pressed against her stomach as she laughed even harder. It seems that laughing is a reflex she can not control. She tried to stop to breathe, taking in deep lungfulls of air at a time. When she finally came to terms with her own irrevocable nature, she sighed, and put her hands behind her back to reveal her wide smile. Every now and then, a soft peal of laughter escapes her lips, resounding in the air with joy and reverbrating a sense of cold cruelty a thousand times over.

****

Please take note hanihash.blogspot.com is Sakinah's new domain for the moment. But I have the tendency to change the address every few hours, so if the address given doesn't work by the time you want to check it out, then message me or keep an open eye out for more updates. I'll be leaving my lj be as it is, just so I can read back on older posts and be reminded on the crazy things I used to do or think about. And I'll probably be writing some experimental stuffs here as well. I've been thinking about writing from the POV of other personas of mine, and I'm already hearing protests about it from a particular someone. Oh well.

Until the next time we meet, it's been fun hanging out here in lj =)

And who knows, once I clean this place up, I might just move back in. because I personally prefer lj's 'Post an Entry' window rather than Blogger's.

king ab-ba-ba-don

Thu, 11 Jun 2009 05:15:20 GMT

Honestly, I should seriously sit down and hunt for a proper blogskin before the next time I post a random entry. The malignment haunts me. Although what really haunted me in my dreams last night was Adam Lambert and I sharing an apartment together. No, please, I do not know the reason behind it either and I don't really want to think about it much.

Although a personality aspect of mine that I really need to check up is indeed, 'the think about it much' factor. Apparently I don't think things thoroughly and am much too often driven by impulse and random mood swings. I am too easily influenced by my surroundings, although mostly just in action and not in thought. Which makes me some sort of living contradiction as what I do does not show what I am nor what I think. But one can also look at is as the very definition as Sakinah, however confusing it may be.

That said, here are news update;

Sakinah is currently working as a barista at Starbucks KD (near Perfection, just in case anybody wanted to drop by and salvage what's left of me).

She has also found the joys of corrupt and cunning historical figures through manga. Cesare Borgia is such figure. She would like to rant more about it, but believes Nigel has suffered enough for the bishie rantings he had to endure last night. Poor, misguided soul.

She watched another scary anime. Ash is most displeased and disgusted.

Persona 4 is now proudly listed as 'Finished'. She has yet to tackle Raidou Kuzunoha and his flawlessly perfect porcelain image, but unfortunately she's getting a little tired off with Shin Megami Tensei games. Not that they're not fun or anything, that is. On another note, gamers rivalry is heating up, so she will probably get back on the track soon later.

And as for books, she gave up on Annie Proulx and is now taking a stab at an African novel. Very promising.

Anything else? I'm alive, at least. IPTA results will be out this 19th according to Adila and university applications will begin on the 28th. The holidays are drawing to an end, and so must the youth of yesteryears. It's time to bring in the destructive adult that I will grow up to become!

Wed, 20 May 2009 02:45:20 GMT

The alignation is all wrong for my skin. Maybe it's time to get a new one. Or just a new blog.

Anyway, news first. PASUM 08/09 results are out, check it out at asasi.um.edu.my and if the link doesn't work then just try and find the site yourself. Will be applying for IPTA this 21st May. Alhamdulillah. my results are okay enough (I hope) to make me at least eligible for a couple of my choice courses.

It was funny though when I wanted to go check out the results online Monday night. A much hated ordeal actually, seeing as how I'd be all stressed and weak-kneed. Which is precisely why I make sure there are people around me when I get results so that I can claw at their arms and tug their shirts in nervous anticipation of pain (by inflicting pain on people). Previous victims include Jo Sze, and Aqmar. Unfortunately, online check ups deny you this one release.

So I called Hazel.

Harassed her would be the more appropriate term actually. We had agreed to call each other at 8.00pm, and approximately 10 minutes later I was screaming at her to get her damn modem working. The site was at the ready in front of me, with the clicker casually posing over the death link and Hazel's connection line was down. I screeched and wailed, which is not an overexaggeration. But when her connection finally worked, all it meant was double the noise as Hazel joined me in the scream fest.

Besides that, nothing much but to sit down and seriously contemplate my future path in life. I talked about letting go of taking medicine to Shar and Hasyim but... well, it's something that I'll have to decide by myself. I seriously wonder if I can handle death, and not be psychologically affected by it. Different people have different levels of tolerance but it takes courage to try and gauge one's limits and potentials. When I was younger and had been jumping around screaming, 'I'm going to be a doctor!' I knew some of the bad habits that I need to lose and I was confident that I'd grow out of it. But what if I'd lost more than what I need, and by continuing down this path, I'll only lose more?

On the flipside, who's to say it's not precisely what I need?

Wait, wtf, whose mould am I fitting in, in the first place? Will deliberate to this tune later, for now let's stop and jam to Setona Mizuhashi's 'AFTER SCHOOL NIGHTMARE'! Thanks, and remember, you're tuning in to RASH FM!

Change of Heart

Sun, 17 May 2009 14:21:11 GMT

Currently reading Change of Heart (as the title of this post implies, which I consider slightly odd as my blog headings rarely give any insight on what the post is going to be about) by Jodi Picoult. Hm, yeah, I have a few things to say about that in itself but I'll save it for later even though as we all know that means I'll probably never come back to it but whatever, I'm getting sidetracked again. Reading the novel made me think, and stirred the voices inside my head by so much I was getting a headache. So I had a marvellous idea of writing down some thoughts and opinions that I had at so-and-so paragraph. This meant I had to stop reading and reach out for my bookmark as I pen down my thoughts every few pages or so. By the look of things, if I were to continue at this rate, it'd be a really long time before I finish the book. But hey, it's all in good fun.

(and once again, no, I'm not going to bother giving any brief synopsis of the story. that would mean going into story mode myself and frankly speaking, that doesn't interest me as much. but if you're by any chance familiar with Jodi Picoult, then yes, you've probably got the gist of the story)

pg 186, p 1

Nich: The sea always changes, so how do the fishes know their way? The waters around is never the same and the sea floor gets corroded and move around with the current and stuff. But that's why the fishes themselvs don't stay at one spot for long do they? The fishes change too. So if the sea changes, the fishes change too.

Ash: Two wrongs don't make a right, kid.

pg 200, p 5

Revenge? Justice? What's the difference other than the involvement of emotion? If we're to take a look into the context of word meaning, it'd suffice to say revenge is simply a human reaction response out of anger, hate, negative emotions etc that doesn't necessarily completely equate the initiative wrong. In contrast, justice sounds heavenly and without further ulterior motive. It's awfully easy to mask one as the other though.

pg 201 p 6

Emotional compensation is something that's practically impossible. Imagine being able to truly, completely, entirely understand someone's loss and expect the other party to feel exactly the same way about you. The biggest wrong in this line of thought is that no human being (unless intended by God) can possibly gauge the depth and thorns of pain in some other's heart. I doubt the person in hurt himself fully understands the agony he's in. Much less to expect some other person be it family, friend or stranger; to truly grasp the same pain. Would anyone else actually do that much and go that far for someone else? Hm? I sound hypocritical. In defense, sometimes I get emotional and rational thinking leaves me entirely. I meant, thinking like a robot without a heart which at times sound like the ideal problem solver to me. Gosh, what a useless creep I can be. In retrospect (and out of spite) so can everybody else.

In conclusion, Jodi Picoult deals with religious and humanity issues like any average person. Something that I admire in her writing is how she simply puts up some situation, sets a certain character and then sit down watching said character come to life and deal with the problem at hand. Emotional conflict most of them time, but it's interesting to watch. Too bad though that I don't like humanity all that much any more. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a misanthrope (although I believe we have gone through this before...) I just don't care as much as I would have liked. Sometimes, humans are just too disgusting.

Ah, the irony by which I live my life! It's so comfortable though, let me stay under the blankets for five more minutes (perhaps this is just another phase that I am going through).

On another note, I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate Abang Boy and Kak Liyana on this (and yesterday) most auspicious day. We, the respectful cousins will be expecting double Raya money this year. And 'bang Boy, tell me if you're ever gonna get tired of the PS3 and I will personally drive to your love nest to fetch the gorgeous black beauty. Assuming Kak Liyana bought you the black box that is, seeing as how you have the Xbox 360 collecting dust somewhere.

here's a gist of what goes through my head

Tue, 12 May 2009 02:41:01 GMT

There's a black cat sitting next to me. It's a female, but I know from past experience that she can be just as mean as any tom cat. She was licking her fur a while ago but now she's fast asleep. She is very cute, but I can't kill her. You must cherish that which you love, they say, so to kill this cat which I love is out of the question.

I just read a good manga called 07 Ghost. Ironic, since the first time I read it was 3 or 4 years ago, and I'd declared it as, 'Annoyingly fake shounen manga that're targeted to girls, and chock-full of pretty boys.' Well, I got 1/2 of that right. I don't even know why I suddenly started to read it last night, but once I'd gotten through the second chapter, I was hooked. Fast storyline, unbelieveable twists, and likeable hero that is angsty but realistic at the same time. The art is messy, and can get confusing especially with the characters since most of them look the same, but it's okay since the story is good. Yeah, I'm overlooking the art. I mean, it's decent and all, pleasing to the eyes, pretty boys aplenty etc but rather average me thinks. Even so the panelling and story presentation are well done. Personally, art is a very subjective matter and so it's very hard to judge when you'd like to take the overall quality of the manga into consideration. But good story planning is something only a story teller can do. How do you use the shades, sfx, lining, etc to give a so-and-so impact to the reader...that kind of thing. As far as I can tell, 07 Ghost has achieved its set point quite well. Albeit too messy.

I'm not going to bother giving the storyline because it sounds average when I try to explain it. Well, the basic plotline is actually rather average in itself. Something like revenge, honour, patriotism kind of thing...y'know? No? Oh well. I'm being half-arsed here.

Moving on. 07 Ghost is considered shounen for the hefty amount of action it offers. But at the same time it's character development is mature and no, it doesn't have that ridiculous 'one time fight one level up' kind of thing like Katekyo Hitman Reborn! or Naruto (come to think of it, Naruto levelled up tremendously fast during the recent chapters). And then it deals a lot on religious stuff as well, although primarily on existensialism questions and faith. It's not that interesting, but it can get heart warming. I've only seen one other manga/anime that has this kind of character development and that is FMA. Yes, over time I had been comparing the two together. FMA is noticibly more shounen however and it has a wider universe. 07 Ghost can be considered more sentimental and emotional. But they both have unpredictable plot twists and makes one wonder whether the story has been set from the very beginning or does the author/artist discover the wonders of the world they'd created as they set along with the MC and the readers alike.

Conclusion, 07 Ghost is an enjoyable read and one that I would recommend to anyone who's tired of typical shounen angst or shoujo blah. Warning, you'll have to have a bit of stomach for BL however as the MC's sense of comraderie with other pretty boys can get a bit overwhelming. And no, there aren't any girls in sight. There're sisters and a mermaid but I don't think any of them is available.

Bye bye. Here's a parting gift. It's the op for 07 Ghost anime by Studio Deen.

and the dream is recovering

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 15:29:33 GMT

*while reading Okujou Fuukei*

Nich: Won't you look at that!! It's too cute 'till the point it ought to be indecent!

Ash: Get your mind out off the gutter.

*after a few pages into the manga*

Nich: AAAWW isn't that sweeeeet? I wonder if something like that would actually work in real life though?

Ash: You'd probably need to be a precog.

*after a few more pages into the manga*

Nich: Agh, no, my heart! My heart! It- hurts!

Ash: Angina ah? No wait, you have a heart?

*because these sugary sweet romance manga inevitably have a mushy part here somewhere...*

Nich: *bawling her eyes out* My heart can't take it anymore!!

Ash: So I'm asking, you have a heart?

Yaaaay! At times, it feels as if my maturity level is regressing as the holiday stretches on (and I beg you, please stretch on just a little bitlonger...not long now 'till May 21st...gosh, Hazel must be pleased...) but my head feels a lot better now so it's fine. Along the way, here are tips on how to prove that you're a great ninja!

the name is in the dream

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 06:39:43 GMT

The sound of cats crying in the not-so-far off distance, coupled with the stench of used sanity pads. Again, it's the same sight that greets me like the rising, morning sun as I climb up the steps to 5th floor. It's a blurred image, probably because I'm not wearing my glasses. It's a familiar image, with familiar faces.

But she's not there. My mind was slow, fogged up just as bad as the scenery but that one face I wanted to see is the one face I know that is the brightest amongst everything here. Just hers alone.

Then, the voice of a thief spoke somewhere next to my ears, somewhere close by my brain, nestling within my secrets.

She is gone.

The voice of the thief reassured me.

She's bound to leave one day. And now she has. She has left you. Do not be sad about it. Do not worry.

The thief's name was...Momaksen...? Mumousen.....? He continues to console me, even when I began to feel numb from the sense of loss. The voice fills up the hole in my heart, and gradually the voice became familiar. The rough voice of a rugged thief with a mustache was replaced with the comforting voice that I had always known. He was a young man who calls himself Ash. How can I describe the sound of his voice? It's like a mother comforting a child, repeating the words over and over again so that reality could sink in.

I believed in his words as I awoke from my dream.

And for once, there was nothing inside my mind that greeted me from my sleep. For once, my mind was my own, and there were no voices in my head. There was only silence, and a dull feeling at the lower right side of my head. Too tired and too numb to do anything other than accepting the truth of the situation.

The truth is, I can remember her face, but I can not see her. I can remember the sound of her voice, but I can not hear her. As much as I tried, in that early hours which is her favourite time of the day, she did not appear to me. Slowly, as my body wakes up along with my mind, another voice which is mine, and is not mine, spoke to me.

Do not be sad, for she will leave you one day.

I shouldn't after all. She has grown increasingly quiet during this past year. She has grown unpredictable, uncontrollable, unforgiving. At first, I enjoyed her flaws, her descent into insanity. Masochistic, I am. Sadistic, I might have been. This is probably how Ash must have felt as he spends all his life with her. Now that I'm thinking about it properly, that crazy idea he had of saving her sounds rather noble. And I have no idea how he managed to put up with it.

Because it's written in the stories that it's impossible to change human nature. Simply impossible. And that girl, who's really of neither gender; hangs her life, and the life of others by a thread over and over again not because she wants it, nor because anybody wanted her to. It was for the sake of curiosity itself, because only the satisfation that came with her insatiable desire to know, that was the only thing that keeps her living. Because her life is a written dream itself. Her name, which is as fragile as the dreams, is all that holds her existence to me.

I awoke from my thoughts slowly, almost drug-like. The scenery around me is still blurry as ever, but now there's a yellow girl sitting on me with white-bleached hair holding a .45 Magnum close to my chest.

"Missed me?" she smiled. What can I do but answer the truth that came with a peaceful feeling in my heart, even as the pressure builds up somewhere in my brain?

I answered, and I called her name slowly. The name that means, 'to dream'

"I did, Nikochi."

Yum Yum

Sat, 21 Mar 2009 12:17:05 GMT

Honestly, I've been meaning to write something better. But the muses fail to inspire and the damn migraine keeps on coming. Oh, have I mentioned about my head? My hair's falling in clumps again. Not the prettiest of sight, especially after showers. It was scary at first, funny later on, and now it's just tiring. Wait, why am I telling the Internet that I'm balding?

Not that it matters anyway seeing as I wear the hijab. HA-HA! Sucks to be you people-with-receding-hairline-and-have-no-means-to-cover-it-up.
...
That, ladies and gentlemen, was the gripe of the sore loser.

Anyways, back to my monthly, chaotic, random updates. I'm really supposed to be reading BIO 3 now, or at least keep up on reading Katekyo Hitman Reborn! and I know procrastinating is bad but damn, why is it so addictive? Signs of a weak will, my conscience says. Up your ass, so says I to my very own Jiminy Cricket who really goes by the name of Ash, who's both a homophobe and a pretty boy. Terrible combination in my honest opinion.

Oh, right, I promised updates. Well, I had my PASUM prom for which I was the MC. No, I'm not kidding. Sakinah the anti-social has actually participated in a social event. She didn't enjoy it all that much though because she sat with the dinner comittee table away from her hyperactive friends, partnered with a perfectionist metrosexual guy, and had terrible make-up on. I was the artist. Damn it, stop making fun of my colouring skills already! All in all the food was good (it costs RM100,000, at Palace of the Golden Horses. If it wasn't good, I swear the VVIPs would have fucking sued. Sorry for the swearing, it just looked good there next to the word 'sue'), and what else, camwhoring session was good. There might be pics for it coming up on Facebook, but it won't be up until April.

Why April? Because that's the month when I'll be finished with PASUM. Yayyyyy~ three cheers for Sakinah! Three cheers for Sakinah!

Another fine point to call out is that I've discovered quite a lot about myself since the entire time I'm here. Yea, I suppose this kind of melodaramatic post would suit better once I've actually graduated PASUM, but once again the impulse is there and I'm just grabbing it by its tails.

Or should I say, something I've discovered in my drastic change of environment.

I'm not going to go around the fact of the matter, a blunt personality is something I'm quite famous for over here (either that or awkward silent-nod-go-along pose. HAHA!). Racial difference didn't account much to me when I was in Tropicana. A Chinese friend or an Indian friend or even a Malay friend, they all had their own individual quirks, but it wasn't because of their races. To me, it was because they were friends. Do you get me? It's something so simple, but so hard to explain. Then again this may not have been the case for other people. But if I were to take another variable other than myself into account, then this hypothetical statement would be too weak to continue arguing over. All will be done in due time.

So anyway, my initial impression of Malay students in GENERAL are celebrity-obsessed, trend-crazy, somewhat lazy (hmm, don't kill me readers, just send me flamers would be enough. seriously, that sounds over the top. don't kill me, please, I'm a Malay too, just read on will you? If you have problems with it, let me know and I'll edit the contents). Indeed, that is an extremely gross generalizationand misconception that I had, partially thanks to the environment I had grown up with. True enough, my family isn't like that, but I've taken my family and close relations out of the equation because I don't deem them as general. Why? Because blood relations fog up the matter a little bit. However, it can be said that I've taken myself into consideration. Because honestly, who am I to judge others if I don't judge myself? I'm a terribly lazy bugger, my being here has proven that. There are other naughty itty bits about me, but I'll cloak those details for now.

But coming here to PASUM have proven just how wrong I am, what a stupid, naive little brat I had been. Well, of course I had to be wrong, but I had to see it for myself in order to actually stop and say, 'Oh. Shit.'. Where were these students when I needed to see them in order to paint my world in a more vibrant and diverse colour? Well, they have their reasons, and I had mine for not being there as well. Oh, and have I ever mentioned about this one girl who's one year younger (PTS), wore make-up for class, looked like a bimbo, was a runner up for some modelling contest (Maybelline was it), and had bloody perfect marks for every single test that she had.

I've really had it good. And I'd sworn to myself to not judge others before the others have shown themselves (the good, the bad and the beautiful), but stereotyping is something that is terrifyingly hard to avoid. Ignorance is another name for stupid, despite the fact that they're two different things. You see what I mean? Ignorance is something that can be cured, I believe, it just needs a helping hand, a little extra push and the self will to open up the eyes, mind and heart to everything else there is.

And ignorance to ignorance is another type of danger that looms extremely close to our students nowadays (in this context, the term students is no longer limited to per race, but rather, students in general. Agh, there's that word again. Even now I'm still stereotyping. How bloody confusing). It makes sense however. Why would anyone want to go all the way out from their comfort zone to know that there's something admirable, something to look forward to in something that's been labelled as...not so good? It's the whole 'the grass is greener on the other side' concept, but reversed. Take note, I make have not used the apt terms that could have described the situation (the way I see it) in a clearer way. Sorry about that.

That said, I am also extremely sorry for anything I said that may have been offensive. I'm not an idiot to not see the racial dispute Malaysia is in currently, nor am I that smart to mouth off anytime I wanted to. But sometimes, it just gets too much. The need to let out my thoughts, it just gets too much. I'm not that brave to voice it out though, not outside the family, so that's why my alter-ego Rashionized was created. At first, he's here (yeees, my LJ is a guy) just as a victim of my random whacky moments, but now there's a place for me to quietly let out this storm of voices inside my head.

And then there's you. The faceless reader. What are you thinking about as you read my post? How does my voice sound like to you? You've been quiet lately. Can you stay quiet any longer? I'm not brave enough to let my family find out that there's another side to me; but a faceless reader, now that I can handle. Are you a friend that I know? I'm assuming you are, seeing as not many people know Rash. I didn't want people to know.

But maybe times have changes.

Now though, it's time to venture onwards with Tsuna and (hot) friends in Katekyo Hitman Reborn! It's a silly typical shounen anime, but the characters are so-cool. Hibariiiiii~

...or maybe, not many have changed at all.

HOPE- Right Of Left

Fri, 23 Jan 2009 13:31:23 GMT

Imagine a sandy beach, and you've walked a long way. It's just nice, not too hot nor too cold; though a breeze is picking up, and there're some dark clouds overhead. Very thick, heavy clouds. There's also a strange smell in the air, something more than salt and sand.
You turn around, and saw the long trail of footsteps you've made on that never-ending beach. You could see the fresh set of prints you made, but you can barely make out the ones of the far-off horizon. They look small, unbeliveably so.
Have you really come this far? Have you really done all that? What is it that's waiting at the other end there? Is it worth the walk? Should you? Should I? Can anyone?
Uncertain, you slow down; pause, and stop. The clouds are rolling in. Nearby, the white waves crashed the shores loudly, leaving a ringing sound in your ears that will not fade. As the beads of perspiration rolled down your forehead and make a sticky mess of your armpits, you noticed how the sun is judging you with her glare.
You look back again. And this time, you could see a hazy image at your starting point. This time, you notice the other set of footprints that had walked alongside you. There aren't many, and the number varies at certain points. But pieces of memories begin to line up together to touch your shoulder, whisper words of courage in your ears, and hold you warmly, filling your heart with resolution and determination.
For they are saying, 'Don't fear, for there is a home that you can return to.'

Home. I have a home.

For I have a home. I have the right to build a foundation that stands testament to my existence, my right to live. There will be no bulldozer to tear anything to the ground. There will be no monsters that come in the dark of the night, in the light of day; to snatch me away and erase all traces of what was once me. My life will not be written in the clauses of death, but rather; let my life be a prelude to another life, and another life, and the life after.

But how is it, that only by looking at the dark clouds that promise no rain but instead tears and screams; could I see this miracle that I've beheld throughout my entire life? Am I that ignorant? Are we? I don't suppose any of us who are content with three or five meals per day, a bed to lie on, a computer with an Internet connection to log on to, actually gave it a thought to the significance of a place that welcomes you home with open arms irregardless of the time of day or the state of mess you're in. A home being a place that heals your injuries, it can take form in many different shapes.

I can take as many steps as I want, venture out into the unknown as deeply as I could, knowing there's a home waiting for me to go back to. A piece of land that's more than land, brick and cement that's more than building, friends that stay and friends that leave, parents and sisters that're more than family, God and faith and all that I could ever ask for.

kissed by the birds

Sun, 16 Nov 2008 17:33:53 GMT

On the dais, the bastard prince ran a finger up and down a silk tapestry he holds daintily in his hand. It is a picture of a tree in full bloom, but the prince hardly takes notice of it. His eyes are set on the newcomer like a delighted child who has found out he will be getting exactly what he wants for a birthday. A joyful present along the lines of barbed wire, hanging corpses, torture weapons. He uncrossed his legs and stood up to play.

"Where are the other I.F's?"

The prince waved away the question with his hand, and asked in return, "Where are you escorts?"

"What have you done to Peace?"

Peace? The prince looked around the chamber, and see nothing else but bare walls and a single exit door. He knows this Peace character his new playmate is asking about, but he does not remember. The doors in his own memory palace are locked from him. And even if they weren't, the rooms inside would be just as empty as this one. But the knowledge remains intact.

"Peace coexists with chaos, you need not worry about him. Although eventually, he will be swallowed by the chaos ."

"Was he the one who sent Strength to be with me?"

"Dunno, the will to power is a lone wolf, a solo mojo. Her heart is about the only thing she listens to. Although eventually, she will be broken and bent by the chaos that brings about weakness to that iron conviction of hers."

"What about Secret?"

"Hush-hush business. All the more easy to be taken by the chaos within that has plagued his mind with guilt."

"You're sick. And Love? What have you done to her?"

The prince laughed. "Love? Love?? She and chaos are practically two sides of the same coin! Made of the same material, she is the most unstable out of all the Dancing Corpses who you call I.F. So influenced by her emotion, that vast potential for limitless power is wasted! If not for me, she might have been the one standing before you today, dark and powerful in her miserable glory. Chaos has consumed her the very day her lover died."

"I thought you were most unstable of the I.Fs, crazy bitch."

"Well besides me."

"Justice will be dealt upon you soon enough."

"Justice grow possessive of the fake tranquility he thought he has achieved. The force that drives him to 'protect' and 'serve' the people is nothing but chaos that relishes every single life he takes in the path to secure order."

"....You seriously believe everything is just gonna end up destroyed. Is that what Truth said?"

"Ah, your old flame. My beloved son told me a certain someone in the underworld wouldn't be too pleased to hear your asking about her. Jeolousy is another scary thing. But back to that woman with an A-cup chest. When she began to lie to herself about her own feelings, doubt settles in her heart. And chaos strikes."

The newcomer stared straight at the prince who slowly made his descent. He drew his left foot behind the right by two steps, squared his shoulders and brought his arms to his sides. White tatoo covering his body glowed softly, and by his command, they snaked their way to his right arm. He spread his fingers, stretching his skin over his bones until the blue vein popped. There was a brighter glow as the tatoo continued to move along his fingers, out of his body, circling his wrist and shaped itself into a sword. In front of him, the prince clapped in joy.

"Your DC! I have always wanted to see it!"

But the newcomer stepped backwards. A smile lit upon his face.

"But first, what of Hope? Tell me of him."

A shimmer in the air, and the newcomer barely had time sidestepping the large scythe. Instead, it struck the floor harmlessly beside him. But the prince has changed. His face contorted in fury. His hair rose on end, and thick dark smoke wafted from every pore on his body.

"Hope? Slimy little misfit of a brat who thinks he is enough to outwit me!"

"Hope, who will call to the people to remember the light of days past so they may build tomorrow."

"Hope? Whom I will crush, break, and drown with my power?!"

"Hope, who will rise from the ashes over and over again until chaos is truly well and gone."

---

Not like I wrote that like how I planned, but fine enough. I'll be going back to UM later today, at 6.00 AM precisely to start my new sem. It's not like I'm jumping around with joy to go back to the room I share with my roommate or the...friends at lecture hall. But hey, I see no use in complaining. However good it might have made me feel later on, all that bitching will probably just get back to me. Adios then.

Swimming

Thu, 06 Nov 2008 18:06:25 GMT

On a lighter, bitchier note, I just think that humankind in general is terribly arrogant. Especially the 'Children of Modernisation', myself included. To deny the helping hand of faith in times of strife, swatting it away as the other hand opts for various (other) means of salvation is a common exit route many take as of late, yet to fully discredit God later on at the end of the road is somewhat proof of that arrogance. That is to say it is almost like one denies the niggling conscience at the back of one's mind, the voice that whispers words of encouragement when all else falters. Perhaps this would come out souding trite and, well, preachy, yet one forgets too often that God works His ways such that it's not necessary for man to know of, and not all as it seems is as it is. As a result, the strength of belief locked in the depths of the soul slowly corrodes, eaten away by harsh doubts, the growing skepticism, and replaced by a new concrete yet see-through man-made defenses, built by the much 'critically'-acclaimed experience and new thoughts that one garnered.

The sight of a crumbling faith is pathetic, wretched, and ultimately heartbreaking.

Yet as a self-acclaimed 'Child of Modernisation', these eyes see the change with a shrug of the shoulders, and a simple bitter smile. Already the darkness of the present age creeps into the mind, blurring ones' judgement, yet clarifying the situation.

This is the way the world is. This is the way the world is to be. It's obscure and murky, and shrouded in uncertainty. Fueled perhaps by billions of people on earth witnessing the decay and subsequent downfall of the supposed glorious age of religion, their beliefs are turned elsewhere. Communism, atheism, capitalism, hippy-ism (if there is such a term); all in the hope to fill in that certain part of us which is unseen, undetected, yet felt. The soul.

Why does man act the way man does? Why does man choose, instead of accepting? Why is man the way man is?

Questions after barrages of questions, endless, unceasing. Questions that drive man to turn to the truth, yet at the same time wrenching the answer out of his hands. Or perhaps; more appropriately, clouding the truth from sight.

It'd take a miracle to cure man of arrogance.

PS- Yes, I am disappointed. And yet uncaring. Choice has been one of man's many gifts. One does not decide how another leads his life. It'd be inhumane.