time passage
Levi's; Penang; Oct 2005
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Friday, August 12, 2005
Against Violence
This was way back in November I think. My first civil demonstration for women's right for some decent respect. Though I won't call myself feministic, there are some things in life worth pursuing for. For example, it's every human's right to have Freedom, Respect & Dignity. Because what good are we without that?
I don't believe we did a fat lot of change in the world from our 'Violence Against Women' walk; I don't know if we made more people aware of the number of women who die each year from abuse; I cannot say if there's less violence in KL.
But maybe it's worth a try. Because like someone smart had said: A journey of a thousand miles begin with a single step. *mumbles* something or rather to that effect
Monday, July 04, 2005
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Some day he'll find some way to forgive me and understand that this was out of endearment and art. 
Bryan @ 3
Friday, June 03, 2005
Thursday, June 02, 2005
The Monkeys Are Coming!
I found a picture of a flying monkey. I don't know but they're really quite cute next to flying pigs. But FPs are so cliche these days. Everyone wants a FP! Brr... conformity breeds contempt I'd always say. I have to say, FMs do depict my current lifestyle. I have a house full of them. But I've never really liked FMs as a child. In fact, it was quite and strongly the opposite.
I recall having a dream of FMs when I was very young. I was at the top of my staircase and it was dark. Not pitch black. Dark. Things were flying and crawling all around me. They were neither man or animal with black leathery wings. But they were large enough to be either.
When Wizard of Oz first came out, I thought the flying monkeys were the things I'd seen in my dreams. For the longest time, I thought all FMs were evil. Then many years later, when I was in Melbourne as a student, I was at the State Library. I was intrigued with a book of illustrations on devils. And I saw a closer resemblance.
Glowing eyes, snarling teeths, black leathery wings. Dark creatures. Once I saw that, I was, 'Oh, so these were what they were. Okay, flying monkeys are sooo OK. I like them now.'
"Things like these are what dreams are made of."
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
I'm Bored!
Bathos/ Bloody/ Blue-penciled Orgasm OAP/ Obligations R Extremely Dull
I have no idea what I'm saying. Obviously. But boy, I'm so bored, I'd looked through the dictionary to make out words for B and O.
I'm trying hard not to procrastinate. But it's not quite working. Obviously. What would someone do to distract themselves from procrastination in order to go back doing what they're suppose to do?
1. Run amok
2. Run amok with someone's PS2
3. Indulge in Fredo's good-for-every-PMS chocolate
4. Play solo ping-pong
5. Swing head like a shampoo girl for a shampoo ad
6. Swing head like it's got lice
7. Bite toe-nails
8. Disinfect mouth after biting toe-nails
9. Read Dr. Liew's latest post
10. Dunk head into a washbasin.
All the more reasons to love my imperfect self! It's dull to be flawless.
(after five minutes...)
OMG, I'm so freaking bored. Someone call me. SMS. Whatever. *blub* *blub* *blub* (sinks further into BoredoMud)
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Back Then...
(ahem) ... when I had more brain cells, I could remember friends, acquaintances, family's birthdays, mobile numbers; gestures, intonations and accents to make silly yet fun imitations.
Now, my brains have an embarrassing tendency to forget days of the week; months of the year; and what I ate for dinner last night. [On good days, I can remember names.]
... when I was younger, I could scream my lungs healthy; sing till the cock crow-ed; talk till the cows came home.
Now, I have to knock off before 12AM so my stress-level metre stays just below 'Flustered' point. If you see a balloon head impounding to burst in countdown 3-2-1; it's a clear signal to get-your-ass-out-of-my-sight!
... I had a sense of humour. I knew how to have fun. I could make vultures laugh; hyenas go up into hysterics; magpies cackle.
Now, I've substituted it with Insanity Idiocy.I haven't had a gut-busting, stomach-wretching, jaw-breaking, tear-flooding, breath-taking, earth-shattering laugh since ... since ... I forget. (- -)*
(I had a great time with the People-Who-Wants-Me-Dead yesterday at good ol' McD's. Thanks guys. *Sniff*)
... I blasted my headphones to Linkin Park, Aerosmith, The Cranberries, Japanese punk junks.
Now, I tune into 105.7FM, drive like a old lady in a bra too tight; glasses beyond focus and a flatulence that's ready to blow (Garrr, I sink ships with me gassy).
... when I was (actually) thinner, I could fit into my sexy, slinky, saucy bell bottoms.
Now, I've realised --- what the hell was I even thinking? Who wears bell bottoms anyway???
Thursday, April 28, 2005
The Yellow Pages of Life
Everything comes with a manual. A little book of instructions to tell you what to do and what you definitely should not do. You buy a computer, you get an inch thick directory telling every single step from how you should put it together and press the little button to switch on (and -oh- don't forget to put the plug in before you call the support centre). You buy a can of sardin and it instructs you carefully how you should use a can opener instead of a ... fork, perhaps? Yes, try the other little tool that has an evil spike on the end. And that's alot like life you know. Little manuals running every where telling you what to do when you run into a little or major crisis in life.
Cat's barfing all over the kitchen? Cure it.
How? Turn to pg 66.
Got dumped? Get even.
How? Turn to pg 44.
Dry Spell? Get a man
How? Call escort service.
The day we were born we've been enveloped with manuals in the form of people. Our parents. Our siblings. Our aunts and grand-aunts. Our bosses. Our pastors. Our voodoo masters. I mean really, break a nail or heart, there's always someone out there that is just willing enough to tell us what to do. Everybody has an opiniion of HOW we should live our lives. It's a societal contribution. Deep down inside we're really charitable spirits. Truly.
It's a small wonder how most of us - especially Asians - can make it out of the four walls of our safe square world. There is just so much we have to do in our life to please others. Don't you ever get a little emotional blackmail each time you want to do something slightly different from your loved ones wishes?
"Oh, beeg oledi. Can fly."
"If you do that, don't ever think about coming back."
"You don't love me anymooooreeeeeee."
I'm quite serious here. I've got my hands of my wide arse antartic hips and I'm thinking, we have real-life walking talking yellow pages! We don't need to live our lives! There'll always be someone who's glad enough to tell you how it should be lived.
Son: "Pa, I want to study fashion design."
Dad: "What? Those are only for wusses."
Son: "But Pa, I really like to create clothes - design beautiful dresses for beautiful women."
Dad: "Over my dead body! Are you gay? I said no! I will not support you to sell your backside! Go study business or else you won't get a single cent after I die."
Son: "(....)"
Girl: "Ma, I'm in love!"
Mom: "Is he rich?"
Girl: "No Ma, but he says he really loves me."
Mom: "What use is love? You can't eat love. You can't buy diamonds with love. It's worthless. Be like me, go marry a man with money. Money can buy you happiness."
Girl: "But..."
Mom: "Listen to me. I know what's best for you. I'm your mother."
Girl: *sinks head in resignation* "Yes Ma."
And at the end of the day, we usually survive business school or a loveless marriage. You graduate, get a job, work for 20 hours a day, eventually meet the 'right' person and get 12 kids. Don't you see? Life's all planned out for us. It'll ALL work out. Just follow what others' tell you to do and you won't regret it. Why make life difficult for yourself and go against the flow? Bah... what's all this nonsense about walking the road less travelled. Are you crazy?! Are you suicidal??! The Flow is where everything is safe and secure. There's no need to struggle. Whenever you have a problem, just tell someone and it'll go away. IF you listen and do what they say. Jangan buat susah-susah. Buat malu aje.
So, boys and girls, in conclusion:
1. Don't take risks.
2. Don't fight society.
3. Do succumb to conventions because they are good for you. Resistance is futile.
4. Do listen and don't act out of character.
5. Do believe in what others' tell you is true.
6. And don't ask questions. (Don't you know that's why you have a mouth and a pair of ears?)
Do everything the way a good little boy or girl ought to and you'll certainly be happy.
If you're not happy now, you'll be happy later. And if you're not happy later. There's always the next life.
Good Luck!
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Friday, April 15, 2005
"I was in Bali a year ago. I decided to do some justice to the pictures I took but left forgotten for more than 14 months. I remember taking a walk alone in Kuta. I broke away from my colleagues and decided to pay homage to the place terrorism occured closest to home. I met a local cabby who was waiting for customers. We chatted a bit and he spoke amazingly fluent in English. He was at home when the bombing happened - just 20 minutes away - and he could hear it from where he lived. He sped down to Kuta because he had suppose to meet a friend down at the bar. He described the scene as a 'war zone'. There were body parts strewn everywhere. He saw a man holding his guts walking around dazed - perhaps looking for help. He saw another man's his face splintered open. His friend was fortunately alive but the bar he own was ripped. Kuta had never been the same after that. There's a strange calm that's befallen that place like a deathly spell. The hauntings that took place was another matter. I've completely forgotten the cabby until today. I hope he is well.
Post Bali Bombing: 04
"There was just complete panic in the bar, loads of people diving for the door trying to scramble over each other.
Then outside it was awful, like something you'd see out of Vietnam. There were bodies everywhere.
It was pretty dark but you could tell some people were really badly injured. Lots of blood everywhere, people with burns.
Some people with limbs that just, well, just terrible, terrible injuries." British tourist Matt Noyce, who was in a bar in Bali's Kuta beach
Post Bali Bombing: 04
A total of 202 people were killed when two bombs tore through Bali's tourist district on 12 October 2002. Eighty-eight Australians died in the attacks (they neglected the fact that there were 22 other countries involved). The point of terrorism is not the choice of One Victim. But as many as you can hit.
Post Bali Bombing: 04
There were flowers, posters, candles, poems everywhere. You could almost 'feel' the shadows of tears and pain by just standing there. There is a magnanimous void of silence in this place even though it's enveloped by city noise. And it's surprising because Kuta's street is always swarming with souvenir hawkers, drug dealers, American tourists, pimps and KFC's.
Post Bali Bombing: 04
I left the place in devastation. I cannot explain the feeling I had standing on a mass graveyard of holidaymakers. Imagine losing your brother, a sister, a friend, a lover in 24 hours without having the chance to say, 'Goodbye', 'I love you', 'Thank You' or worst, 'I'm sorry'. My heart bled when I took these pictures. I hope it'll never happen to anyone you or I know. Ever.
Post Bali Bombing: 04
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Yes, I snitched this picture off another blogger's site. Yes, I know I shouldn't have done that. Yes, I know what plagiarism means. But I had to. Yasmin the Storyteller called him a Tsunami Survivor. Not Victim. A Survivor who lived to tell how he had outlived his family and friends. I don't know if I could ever do that.
Courtesy of Yasmin the Storyteller
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Baiyun Airport, Guangzhou: Ultra modern, ultra chic with locals squatting around eating duck rice for supper.
China: 04
Zhangjiajie National Forest Park in Hunan boasts 243 pillar-peaks, each over 1,000 meters high, which are often shrouded in mist and drizzle. It also has a 2,084 metre long cable way. Despite that, there are still mountain-climbers, as well as these sedan chairs, struggling to reach the top.
China: 04
Human Carts: Literal translation from the local dialect. They take just about anyone up and down the mountains - not unlike a roller coaster only slower and bouncier. It's usually the men that does the hard work but I've seen local elderly women heaving and ho-ing too.
China: 04
Kuomintang: Unlike the pre-communism era, China is very much now a modern city. Though however much it has economically improved, I find it ironic that the People's Freedom has not. Is there another cultural revolution impending?
China: 04
