the paper trail that we chase...exam results, paper qualifications...where does it take us? i read on the news about this year's spm rate...i didn't really bother to delve into it, whether or not it was better or worse...i basically just got disgusted that so many people still consider results as the best indicator of a child's development. maybe i'm saying this out of spite...maybe it's out of my own results being so inconsistent...but i mean, honestly...why are we, as a society [at least the malaysian one], so obsessed with a's and a*'s? in the end, it's just prolonged servitude to an economy that benefits from us. what about those who didn't make the so-called "grade"? where do they fit in? what do they stand to win or lose? we're so driven by the attainment of perfect, flying colours, that we don't really consider what we need those results for: high-paying jobs that three-quarters of us aren't going to see? you want to work for someone all your life? then again, there's really nothing that we can do about this, is there? the trail is still there...and it'll always be. we've made all this possible. and try as we might, i guess you can say that we're not going to stop. those who're less priviliged, with less of a shot of getting a good education are going to suffer. the paper trail has to end. but how...? your guess, lordy, is as good as mine. some kids become the all-rounders...brainiacs, active in sports, the jocks with the smarts and the talent...others become mad.

do you want your kids to be pressured to perform? i'm sure you'd like them to do well, but if you're reading this, and if you understand, you're not an idiot...and hopefully, neither will be your kids. but look at everything around you...in the words of the manics, if you tolerate this, then your children will be next.

stupidity.

what the fuck? and people ask where could they have gone wrong...the answers are all here. part of it. complacency. coupled with a good dose of stupidity. armed with foresight, you decide to do nothing. you set back the program a few more years. the cosmos can wait. the people can't. jesus. you think that they'd have more sense. bailing them out would've been the best thing to do, no? armed with foresight, even. idiots. fucking, fucking idiots.

this was a headline i caught off cnn.com:-

N. KOREA MISSILE TEST
--------------------------------
U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell dismissed North Korea's missile launch as "not surprising" and "fairly innocuous."
-------------------------------------------------

f*cking idiots.

i'm a born underachiever.

i only had one paper last semester. ONE. i only got a pass. not a credit. definitely not a distinction. which i really wanted.

a pass. "P". student number B0100986 - P

i can't shoot off the paper trail...i'd probably lose my way off it.

bitch.

the only paper i had. i studied, i wrote heaps which were relevant...where did it all go wrong?

i'm just a born underachiever.

never mind about me.

i always knew norah jones would be famous somehow but...winning 5 grammys is almost ridiculous.

almost.

not a glitzy affair, and it was kinda off, but...what the hell, in the end, everyone got to do their own thing. and they had fun.

mmmph.

one paper.

damn.

is the v-fingered peace sign passe?

the x-men comics have a clear message: that intolerance and the lack of acceptance and understanding set out to destroy whatever man has created. besides the simple stories of good guys and bad guys, most minorities could relate to it, be it that you're of a different race, religion or even sexual preference. kicking off from the 60's, stan lee was more or less a genius to create something new AND socially aware. today, the x-men's roster is made up of a wide variety of characters...not just your white-bread boy/girl next door.

members of the x-men are mutants...those who gain powers or show some signs of powers that their parents didn't previously have. thus, they are feared and misunderstood, and so far, there's been a mutant registration act that's been passed...think about the muslim registration act in the united states and you've got about the same thing.

besides the mutant cause, most x-men characters have their own tales to tell. some live, some die [a few times, even] and some fall in love. others switch loyalties, or become power-mongers. it's all rather fantastic, yes, but it's a comic book. still, that doesn't mean that you don't have to take it seriously. i think that mutant powers and storylines are one part of the appeal that the x-men have; the fact that it tries to underscore understanding and acceptance as a guide to living should also be noticed.

i guess you can say that there's nothing wrong with loving thy neighbour.

though most people think that they're the products of overactive imaginations, comic books [and their characters] make for some of the best forms of reading. if you can afford them [which i can't quite...], they're quite worth your time. most of the characters started out as free-wheeling, happy-go-lucky people, but after the course of a good number of years, their characters have been fully formed through tight writing and intense storylines. yea, i know that i might be sounding like a bit of a rabid fanboy right now, but truth be told, who needs tragedies when you can find them in comic books?

most storywriters usually put their characters through a lot...let's take the x-men, for example...in this case, colussus. to cut a long story short, he lost his brother, found him again and lost him again, he lost his sister, found her again, lost her again, found her again and ultimately lost her, switched loyalties for a brief period and then went back to the x-men and then made the ultimate sacrifice: he killed himself for the good of all mutantkind. now, it might not sound like much, but when you actually learn of what happened, you can't stop feeling for them. it might be far-fetched and ridiculous, but imagine yourself in their shoes. imagine what they have to go through.

by now, you probably think that i'm delusional or something. but honestly, comic characters are tragic.

the daredevil movie is really a farce. it's alright by some standards, but if you've ever been exposed to the comic, you know that the movie is ultimately too cartoonish. if a franchise is made out of it ala x-men, then...ouch. blind attorney matt murdock...defender of the people by day, costumed vigilante by night. blind, but not useless...he's been through a lot, from being blind to losing relatives to having his identity exposed to...well, trust me, daredevil stories are quite worth it because...well, they're different, and they make more sense. he's the practical hero, i guess.

i know, i know. they're still colour books meant for boys. maybe, but, if they are...they're pretty damn good colour books meant for boys. smart writing, well-rounded characters...what d'you have to lose?

next...more on the x-men [you could've seen that one coming].

powderfinger - whatever makes you happy
-------------------------------------------------------------
If we never make it back to how far we've come along this way
We search around for solid ground that will help to carry us away
If the memories I left throw the light that helps to guide you through
We trickle down to our goodbyes but a part of me will stay with you

What we've spoken over time
Never broken or compromised

Dream on together
Leaning against each other
However it happens I hope it's
Whatever makes you happy

for the past few nights, i've been lying on my trusty old couch at night, just wondering how it is we fall asleep. i usually leave winamp on and i'm usually out like a light in the middle of the first song [throughout the night i get dreams that are somehow connected to the songs i hear], but what makes me actually lay down and turn off? if you think about it while staring at the ceiling, it's quite amusing. you just wait for that moment to arrive. i'm scared of the dark. i can't sleep without some sort of illumination somewhere. if there was a total blackout in the neighbourhood, i'd either take the car and go up or get on the phone. yes, i'm 19, but that doesn't make me a man, like how some people would say.

i've just watched the ring...not the japanese one, the one with naomi watts. i saw most of it yesterday afternoon, and the rest of it just now after breakfast. notice how i refuse to watch it at night. i know it basically works better, but then again, i don't want it to work better. it scared the bejeezus out of me. i haven't seen the original, which was meant to provide scathing social commentary and whathavenot, but this remake does its job and actually scares. it's pacing is excellent, there's this ominous hue throughout the whole movie, and it's just...freakish. and the best thing was, no matter how scared i was, i still wanted to actually see more of it. though it does somehow become a tad bit cliched, and though the ending is arguably weak for me, i guess that there really isn't anything that they could've done. all i can say is, it should've ended with a [somewhat] happy ending. oh, well.

freaky. very freaky.

well, now it's a bit past 10 in the morning and the birds are chirping. the sun's shining hard, which would probably lead to some convectional rainfall later in the afternoon. yes, i'm your weatherman. it pays to have taken geography for two years.

ciao.

it's confirmed. my life is a reality tv show. think the truman show. mine's just as cool. the cast of characters is recurring. the situations are dramatic. even the lines are corny. and i'm the star. without knowing it. not anymore.

my front left headlight on my dear old iswara has conked out. you know how there're two different levels of illumination? well, both headlights work when it's on the first degree of illumination, but upon reaching the second degree, the right headlight works fine, while the first headlight remains at the first level. what the hell does this have to do with my life being shown everywhere?

simple: after my realization of the problem, lots of other cars started having the same problems. front left headlights [on proton cars, no less] were either dimmed or not working at all. just now, while driving to dinner, i was being followed by this 5 series with a disfunctional left headlight. coincidence? i think not.

i believe in a few possibilites:-

- most of the headlights on other cars aren't working
- people are purposely showing their affection for me by making their left headlights malfunction, [i.e.] they're fans
- chaos theory, but let's not get into that.

i always wanted to be a star, but never to these heights...never to these!

take me in! make me rise! you like me! you really, really, like me!

mmm. i bought robbie williams' escapalogy a couple of days back...i felt that i went through the whole consumer decision process [i'm trying to remember whatever i've forgotten from buyer behaviour] before buying it. it didn't help that they showed the robbie williams show special on tv during last saturday...it was heavenly. he was up there, cocky and all, with his normal backing band and his orchestra, and to be honest, it was really something...the mixture of sounds really churned out something that would've been worth recording. anyway, the album itself is quite something...i think it's probably due to the fact that it's basically been recorded with american musicians...not that i'm dissing any brits or anything, just that it's not as brit-poppish as life through a lens or i've been expecting you...the sign of things to come probably came from sing when you're winning and now it's been honed even more here...you've got soul, rock, the odd ballad out and more of that introspective robbie cocky stuff that we're all used to listening to.

it's just that after listening to this album, i can safely say that although it tugs at heart strings, angels was a pretty crap song. heartfelt, emotional, but...crap, compared to whatever else he can do now. that's just my opinion. i think he's grown as a songwriter, and he really can't be pigeonholed now. almost makes me forget that he made that crappy cover of george michael's freedom.

mmmph. i'm so full of crap.

for those wanting a taste, check out handsome man and monsoon...

it's pouring outside right now. i've just come back from a trip out...the car windshield was all fogged up so i couldn't really see a thing...due to the fact that the inside of the car was hot and that heavy, heavy rain was pelting it outside. i should get the air-conditioning fixed, shouldn't i? i once read that a person's mood may change depending on the weather...in most cases, sunlight is good, rain is bad. it doesn't obviously extend to all people, but i'm one of them...i can't stand the rain. it's dark, it's gloomy, and you can't ever seem to get anything done in it. sunlight is bright, clear and it's easier to have your way in it. maybe that's why i don't like the rain...the fact that i can't see whatever it is i'm doing on the road, that i can't see anything outside. did i mention the fact that it takes away the sunlight? i'm such a whiner.

mmm. it's getting a little lighter.

i'm back in the loop again. after about a week of solid food, nights out at mamak restaurants and chicken, the return of the instant noodle packet was inevitable. so, being the carefree shopper that i am [more on that later], a few days ago, i went to carrefour to misappropriate it legally of soy milk, orange juice [already finished] and 18 packets of tom yam flavoured maggi noodles [the best!] in 3 packs of 6 maggi packets. the plan was simple...eat 2 a day, allowing them to last over 6 days. not that hard, yea? yea. sure. new year's resolutions thrown out once again. i had 4 packets today. amidst the cries of maggi basically being poisonous to the system, not to mention being able to make you bald, i once again attempted to abuse my body and push it to its gastronomical limits. i guess that i'll pay the price of being hungry, but i was hungry, dammit, and it seemed like a wise thing to do. or else what? drive all the way, 25 minutes away just to have a plate of fried rice? well...i could've done it at the near-by chinese coffee shop, but i'm scared of ordering in chinese...can you blame me? i'm a banana [more on that later as well]. anyway, seeing how it was an evening well spent on playing football, i decided to have the maggi and i've just had an orange soda...not very smart. calculating it, i've basically amassed the same amount of kj loss while being physically active just now...which, in terms of a calorie count, equate to 0 calories loss or gained. i've broken even once again.

yes, the general idea is to lose weight, before you ask.

anyway, i'm scared of my consumption methods, maggi notwithstanding. i pay for a carton of orange juice, and it won't last through the night. and the thing is, the more willpower i put unto myself, the less i'm able to control myself. i realize that it's not cheap...but at the same time, i love it. it's not like in brazil, where we bought all we had since it was under the government's allowance to my dad [i'd love a perk like that], this is...well, MY money. ugh. not very smart, am i? the money factor is a bitch, really, but i'm getting used to it...i can't say that i'm broke, but all i really need now is some sort of job that pays well, has flexible hours and that i don't have to do much work for...so, let's see...i won't be the fry guy at mc d's, i can't be a barista at starbucks, and i don't think that i'll be able to work for my aunt as an office boy. i just wish there was a part-time job i could take up by sitting at my computer and being online for the whole day [internet and phone bill paid in full by the company, no less]. but i can only dream...and as far as i can see, i need more money for groceries. i love shopping, i really do.

look at the products of today...fruits wrapped in plastic, instant noodles, more packaged and microwavable items than ever...the passion of cooking, taking time and toiling and sweating for a great meal is now being killed in favour of convenience. we're losing the love in our consumption to the lack of time we have. then again, i guess it's just sloth kicking in overtime. when i go to work, and come back home, am i even going to eat? [damn...that sounds good]. am i going to have a nutritious breakfast prepared by myself which is full of vitamins and the essential vitamins [i sorta regret taking those days of being prepped by my parents for granted now...] which would last me through the day? am i going to have time to go to oliver's for a super sandwich which would tide me over during lunch to the end of the day? and what about overtime? as i peruse over reports, evaluate my department's action plans and develop carpal tunnel, am i going to even consider the passion of food? no. probably not.

it just comes to the point of concern: we're becoming more and more objective-focused. we can't let anything go wrong, because we're becoming well-oiled machines day by day...i would know, since i actually time and evaluate a full journey using public transportation to college. timing is going to be everything, being able to do the most in as little time as possible the main focus of working life. i'd probably grow bald soon from all the maggi i eat [though i hear that the bald look is the bomb with the ladies now]. hmph.

and speaking of food, i've been accused regularly of coming from the banana republic. and to make this short and sweet, i'm bloody proud to be able to at least speak some sort of coherent english, i'm proud that foreigners are impressed with the way i hold myself together and i'm proud of my ability to outtalk my father and outcrap my mother. people accuse me of not being chinese enough due to my lack of fundamental grasping of any dialect, and they also put it to my face that knowing the language is irrerevant and not irrelevant...i agree, but...do i care? do they know the history of china from the qin dynasty up to the hans? do they know which part of the mainland they're originally from? [my bloodline comes from the north...where?...i don't know]. my father once commented that i didn't know enough chinese to handle myself in a restaurant...i cussed back at him in hokkien. he proceeded to do the same in hakka. i reiterated my stand by doing it in cantonese. we had a good laugh. as far as i'm concerned, in my own ignorant view of it all, you only need cantonese to survive; there's nothing more you can do but to order food and cuss at people, trust me.

paolo once said that if [sic] ever got famous, that if we ever got intereviewed by the chinese press [an oddity, but anything's possible], they'd probably be forced to interview him than me, since he's even more chinky than i am, despite not being any chink at all. i took it as a compliment, but when i think about it...ah, what the hell.

the term "chink" isn't deragatory.

"superchink" may be, though.

i don't speak chinese much because i look down on anyone or because i'm some sorta ang mo raised chinese boy...it's basically because no one ever told me what to say, no one ever taught me how to speak, and those who did teach me how to speak were teaching a terribly unattentive student. and whenever i speak chinese, people tell me to go back to speaking english. hypocrites.

from shopping to eating to speaking.

this one's for you.

can we leave this party?
-----------------------------------
can we leave this party?
i want to go somewhere else.
somewhere where i can spend a little time with someone...
someone like myself.

first in, first out.
the lines grow, with me...without.
it doesn't matter.

novocaine
---------------
if you want me not to show
if you want me to let go
if there's something i should know
tell me

if it hurts you just to stay
if you don't know what to say
if you want it your own way
leave me

because i can't seem to understand
how you come up with your plans to go
if you take away the shame
and put in some novocaine
i'm pretty sure we could work it out

i don't mean to offend. i just want to be heard.
--------------------------------------------------
revolution
---------------
2 a : a sudden, radical, or complete change b : a fundamental change in political organization; especially : the overthrow or renunciation of one government or ruler and the substitution of another by the governed c : activity or movement designed to effect fundamental changes in the socioeconomic situation d : a fundamental change in the way of thinking about or visualizing something : a change of paradigm e : a changeover in use or preference especially in technology

i'm naive and idealistic and full of positivity. i've been told off before for being a dreamer and for not being able to keep my feet on the ground. my friends mock me because most of the gibberish i speak isn't discernible in their worlds of logic, and my greatest fear is probably turning into a man...a serious, hard, man who can't smile without being prodded to. then again, while most of my friends are wishing to get laid, i just want someone who can make me feel better through a day of shit and who can take my shit and tell me her shit and we'd just commiserate over the combined shit. i've found that in you, no doubt, but i don't want to rub it in anyone's face that i've got you because they'd probably be disbelieving, jealous, or they'd just want you. all that is understandable, because i'd feel the same way if i knew that someone like you was with someone like me.

anyway, revolutions. i couldn't see it any other way...a bloodless coup is better than a war. which is why i really kinda admire pakistan's president. no one got in his way, he didn't really threaten anyone, and although most criticize him, no blood was shed, no war was declared; he saw corruption at its finest and decided to put an end to it his way. a revolution, be it the northen irish conflict to our own left-back islamist extremists pushing for a "revolution", doesn't need the harming of innocent people to it. hell, a true "revolutionary" revolution would probably be changing something without the usage of force, without the threat of a gun...you'd propose, and people who would truly want change would accept. but nothing works like that anymore...it's all a matter of personal wants and needs and interests. i'm scared of the world sometimes...where people use one another, where everyone probably has a hidden, selfish need somewhere. no one does anything for nothing. there's always a reason for the things we do, and that just leaves me feeling paranoid and vulnerable sometimes. from people who only go to you for help, to this who're stupid enough to offer it...it's a crazy, crazy world. dog eat dog? you betcha.

where's the glory in the deaths of innocent people in the name of change? where's the glory in the millions of people who suffer because they're part of the new order you want? i've advocated and hated hitler's actions through the years...i felt pity for him and even more for the german people when the original league of nations decided to do what they wanted to what was left of germany after the first world war...at the same time, his desire to build a perfect race of fine blonde young 'uns, survival of the fittest regime didn't really strike any chords with me. persecuting the jews just because they were there, making them scapegoats, registering them and placing the star of david on them...i don't know. what makes me feel worse is the fact that back then, the rest of the world sat on its laurels, and only shimmied into action when most of europe was in the hot soup. look at america then...isolated, and now they just want to get their noses dirty, the bastards. righteous white pigs. the leaders, not the people. i've said it numerously, at least the people have more common sense. i know that people like paolo would rather have things happen as opposed to having people call for peace...he would rather have a war and for something to happen...i guess i can understand that. sometimes there really is nowhere to go. mmm.

can you feel the voltage? the way that the world stands on end anticipating? it seems that everyone wants to throw their weight around. that being bullies is the only way to go. we use and abuse power that it's become beyond taboo...it's accepted openly and willingly that cronynism and whathaveyou is a way of life. we strike out against it, no doubt, but to no avail...it persists. nations threaten each other with an impending nuclear strike, testing their weapons and showing their muscles. even smaller countries are jumping on the bandwagon. everyone has a point to prove. the whole thailand-cambodia thing is a parody...a call to arms? over comments that may or may not have been made?

why do i complain about this? because i just wish we all would just sit down and look at how incredibly ridiculous we've become. God created us in his image, but we've distorted it so much that He probably looks at things with a pinch of salt...otherwise He'd be openly disgusted with what we've become. where we meant to be so complex? perhaps, but sometimes you can't stop thinking about what would happen if there was no conflict...how much slower it would be. then ask yourself if you'd like it to be slower. mmmmph. the world turns at a snail's pace, but, no matter, we make it faster.

do people really need another revolution? a tired idea that's been recycled yet again? is peace a tired idea? do the dreamers just fade away? people need something to believe in. a revoluion of peace isn't far-fetched...no blood. just let us all have our way. i just wish all the sick and deranged people in the world would die, but that's unfair...we're all sick and deranged. no matter. f*ck the revolution.

this is pompous. it's filled with pretentiousness, it tries to be something that it's not. it's sick, and it's easy to read. it's full of contradictions. enjoy.
--------------------------------------------------
as miss sarajevo came walking down. children were gathered around, some in clothes, some in tatters, some in rags...it didn't matter much, as the children were clinging on to her jeans, designer jeans, probably made by the finest in italy; she was smiling, hiding her disgust, trying to put on her best...she was behind this, and it reeked. the stench of poverty, the war-torn, crumbled buildings, the shrapnel on the street. she was one of the cognoscenti, or so she believed. she would have given anything to be off this street, jetting around in her lap of luxury, whisked away by the fabled man in a silver mercedes benz, ploughing his way through the people to go to his damsel in distress. the children were still crowded around her. she was drawing a sizeable crowd, and armed guards and enforcement officers had to cordon off the area in order for her to have some peace. as the children still continued to follow her as if she were the pied piper, the men came with their batons...at first, just swinging to warn...and then, the batons impacted off the children. some held back, while others continued holding on to her, their beacon of all that was holy and beautiful. blood flowed, teeth fell, but they still held on as if their lives depended on it. her jeans were not stained; her eyes turned away from the carnage. her heels clicked along the pavement, the charred pavement, and she walked a bit faster, almost to that of a quick trot and gallop, but still maintained her poise and composure.

divinity in motion? a queen of hearts? who could say...the children gathered around her wouldn't have known. as far as they were concerned, she was fresh, worthy of envy and admiration. they followed her, up to the barricades, where the men and batons were plenty; too many to be ambitious of. the crowd of children slowly dispersed, fearful of being pelted...fearful of the gas guns being held, fearful of the armour, the helmets, the shields, the uniforms, the threat...the force. they were scared, being children, and they slowly and quietly held their own and began to walk away.

all of a sudden, a shriek: a child was being hit repeatedly, blood forcing its way out of her mouth, as one of the enforcers swore and cursed at her. vulgarities of a donkey, a dog and her mother were heard, and he continued beating her down, a visible rip seen in his left pant-leg, above the point in which his black army boots would begin. she was dressed in an oversized purplish-grey t-shirt, stained from the outside, as well as a pair of faded trousers. barefoot. he pounded and pounded, and flung the baton away. he took off his blue gloves, still possessed by the red that had suddenly overtaken him. he slapped her, again and again. she cried out, not in pain, but at the other children to help, to overcome him and to beat him down. no one dared to move. no one stopped the man. the officers still stood in their smart line, guns held, shields raised. against the children. the children watched, murmuring to themselves. no one lifted a finger. out of all of them, no one lifted a finger. the girl started to cry out louder, but by now it was all futile. he dragged her by her feet, and continued the vulgarities. and in a moment of pure weakness, he took her pants down, and violated her with his fingers. she squirmed in pain, blood gushing from where it hurt, tears flowing down. and still no one was helping. he slapped her around a few times, hands still feeling, touching the warmth that he needed and wanted so badly, and then he pulled out his hand and walked away, happy to have his pleasure indulged.

from the window, miss sarajevo saw it all. she stroked her hair, tucked her left side neatly behind her ear, and glanced at the notes strewn around the table. itineray, schedules, memos. her neatly pressed italian jeans were feeling tight...perhaps she had gained weight? she took a quick glance at the reflection in the mirror...she did look a tad bit fuller. nothing a jog wouldn't do. looking back at the notes, she continued to note down the day's events. charity show. power plant visit. the usual full. more of the same, and same of the more, but that was the way she liked it. the repetition, the visits, all made her to be the queen that they wanted her to be. she was the queen, she was sarajevo. she was the heart and soul of the people, and she needed to be at her best because her people needed to be at their best.

she scribbled a personal note to herself about lunch, and proceeded to get on with the day.

this is a reply to a mail that was sent...i've sliced the first part off, but the second part makes for amusing reading, i gather. the narcissist in me.
--------------------------------------------------
my second rebuttal would be what keong said about singaporeans...how singaporean society only consists of ah bengs and ah lians. to me, singapore consists of two parts...

a) the hypocrites
b) everybody else

i don't really understand how racial integration should involve not being allowed to wear tudungs to school. the whole idea of integration would be to promote a society that could accept and respect our differences, no? the uniformality of a one, true, "singaporean" culture is already impossible, due to the fact that you've got a whole potpourri of cultures claiming ground on your little island. think about how someone gets puzzled when you ask them about what the hell malaysian culture is...they just can't answer you. instead of allowing racial diversity, you're pinning it to the ground. let's just put the religious issue out; most primary school-going malay girls in singaporean schools don't wear the tudungs...so using the religious angle would be adding salt to the wound of the great farce that it is. whether or not they choose to wear the tudungs may be a whole different matter...but the fact that it's a general rule that you can't wear tudungs in primary school is the part that ticks me off.

racial integration...let's see.

integration:
1) the act or process or an instance of integrating: as a : incorporation as equals into society or an organization of individuals of different groups (as races)

"as equals". wouldn't that mean letting them wear the headscarf as a sign of respect to them? i doubt that a tudung worn by a little malay girl gives her some sort of psychological advantage over her chinese or indian peers? i'm sure little sikh boys wear their headwraps to school...and i'm sure that it doesn't hide their latent mutant telekinetic or mental powers. [on a side note, is anyone planning to watch the guru?...and x2 is coming out this year!] equal integration means equal chances for the children, doesn't it? all's fair in love and war, yada yada yada? it's just a bloody scarf. just a scarf. some might use the same argument about over what the whole fuss would be, but it's a person's right and privilege to be able to worship the religion of your choice. if some are scared that there might be instances of name calling or anything of that sort, then where the hell does the integration come in? start them young; embrace your cultural differences and your diversity...don't slay them. a nation's people make it special.

i do understand that i haven't even heard the singaporean side of things. i'm sure they've got some rational, reasonable explanation for all this. i have nothing against singaporeans. [well, i've met some that've pissed me off, but let's not go there...] just the leaders. and i love americans. most of them, anyway. i've lived there. i've seen how friendly, how open they can be. but it just goes to show that the leaders of nations...they don't really listen to whatever it is the people say, is it? and on a sadder note, no matter how much we try, how much we tell them what we want, they don't listen. then again, i guess everyone has their own agenda. so whether or not george bush is fighting iraq to protect or extend the united states' oil assets, or because he sincerely thinks that iraq is a lot more dangerous than north korea [kimchi-loving statesmen who wine and dine while their people suffer...bastards], we won't know...only george w. bush knows whatever it is that runs around in george w. bush's head.

but if any of you think that war is the answer, then...fine. but it also can be said that he's as much of a terrorist as those who he claims are marked for vindication. in the end, i guess we're all hypocrites.

this was originally an email that i sent...but i guess it does serve its purpose here. oh, and please notice that it basically contradicts EVERYTHING i've said about the holidays so far...i'm so full of crap!
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mmm. it's been hot in here. chinese new year weather rocks: hot as hell, and twice as dry. the fact that most of my relatives are these people who don't make an effort to visit us more than once a year is okay...it's the fact that they're stingy bastards which pisses me off. no matter...as i'm officially the youngest in the bloodline, i should be getting more...but i think everyone's enamoured with my cousin since he's older by a few months and oh-so-much-taller. tall people suck [not you, keong, you're pretty okay] coz they think that vertically challenged people like me can't play basketball [one of my uncles was talking to my cousin solely about basketball and leaving me out of the conversation] while i could probably swish and lay-up and probably dunk better than he could [on a child-height basketball hoop, of course]. oh, and there're always those husbands of your distant aunties who come to your house...and the only thing they ever say whenever they open their mouths are "where's your toilet?" mmmph. not to mention that "old friend" of the family who comes by on chap goh mei [or a day before that] when all the chinese new year delicacies and goodies are all finished and bitches about how little we have to offer to eat. this is the same woman who called the family almost every night wanting moral support for a divorce that left her in "tatters" despite her winning a pretty big house in ampang and a substantially tidy sum. don't get me started on her psychopathic ex-husband.

but in the end, i'm just bitching about the lack of money that i get. yep. it's all about the money, and not the bohemian heat [shite, it's not even bohemian...bohemian heat makes me think of debauchery and wine and women and free flowing food], not the naggy relatives, not the aunties who heap praises upon the OTHER brother's son, not the old men who talk politics that they don't know jack about, no...i'm just bitching about lots of ang pows and the lack of money WITHIN them. i know i haven't taken into the account that they're old and elderly and maybe they'd like to spend money on themselves as opposed to this long-haired freak who can't speak a word of chinese, but, c'mon...we're gonna be the ones who run this country, so we need good capital. i need a new handphone with a colour display to show off to the younger kids in the neighbourhood...i need to set an example that no matter how young you are, yuppie greed can be accessible if you have the funds. i want to be the shining example of excess. though my protruding stomach doesn't have to be used as an example of greed, no.

in times like these, money is the equivalent of love.

let love rule.

okay, now that i'm done with the hypocrisy [i totally agree...a hypocrite who admits to being a hypocrite is even more of hypocrite, regardless of whether he changes or not...erm...that might describe me], let's get on with it...download the song "leaves" by this band called "ours" coz it's perfect and pure shimmery brit-rock at its [almost] finest. oh, and "green eyes" by coldplay is good because it just makes you want to be chris martin [getting dumped by gwyneth and all]. speaking of which, i think his teeth have been enchanced in some photos...he's got awful, awful teeth. download the chili pepper's "i could die for you" because it basically shows what a good rock ballad could sound like when it's been californicationized.

yea, sean, ally mcbeal's been cancelled...i'm astro-less, but i'm catching the last season on ntv 7 here...and i have to say, jon bon jovi is hot. if i was a girl/gay, i'd swoon over him [waaaaait...what'm i doing now?!], but, nah. i had a friend say that he'd do ben affleck if he was gay [and this was an immediate response, without thinking, when asked], so...yeaaaa. and you don't have the new season of friends there? well, it's probably never coming to malaysia, unless it's already on astro, so...like i said, first two episodes were killer, and it's good that they're having one more season. i guess that friends simply won't die without a fight. and there aren't enough established sitcoms on the market, so i guess friends might possibly stay even for another year after next. we'll see...

how many of you love americans? complacent bastards, aren't they? i don't really know the facts, but, c'mon...to the extent of grand moff tarkin ignoring the fact that the death star had a giant, giant, GIANT hole that a single torpedo could zoom through and rip apart [re: galactic sex ed], nasa scientists come a close second. wait, tarkin wasn't american. no matter.

the columbia was scheduled to be retired back in '01. however, the powers that be decided to invest more money into it and "upgrade" it, as opposed to spending more money to construct a new shuttle craft. i know that the initial lift-off debris might've struck the columbia a fatal blow, but, please...the shuttle was already commissioned to be scrapped. american complacency might have been what killed those 7 astronauts. just because you send a man to the moon, just because you're the world's first [and only] national superpower, just because you've got tom cruise, it doesn't mean that nothing's going to go wrong with you. and i'm not an advocate of war either. i think bush should let clinton come back. i'd rather read about an intern boning him than hear bush talk about iraq...iraq...and iraq. as you can see, i don't like american bureaucrats much. the people are fine [they're sorta grey about bush], i love the french and germans [besides peugeot and bmw, they all hate bush] as well as the koreans [hyundai and daewoo are fine with me, and they all hate bush].

so, i guess that we all should send a letter to america's capitol and tell them this: change the amendments of the bill and allow a former president to reside for another term...or as many terms as it takes. bring back clinton!

*ahem* yes. anyway, at the beginning of the year [the official one], i made a resolution to eat less. the only resolution this year. that i could fit into a comfy pair of size 31 levi's by the end of the year. well. it's with great pride and dishonour to announce that i've broken that resolution. chinese new year rocks. to some extent.

yes, and that's all for this afternoon from my ignorant, ignorant mind. if you've finished with today's ranting, then i thank you...this is what happens when you have nothing better to do.

ho-hum. sonic adventure.

chinese new year brings out lots of surprises for everyone. today's the second day: i've driven my aunt and her little god-daughter in my aunt's car [surprise #1] and basically she had no problem with it [surprise #2] and she actually was nice and held some worthwhile conversation pieces [surprise #3] and i found my way to my granduncle's house without any problems [surprise #4]. anyway, it's been a wicked two days. i haven't received many ang pows but i guess that it's the whole reunion and rectification thing that makes it all worthwhile. i better revel in all this schmaltz...i don't know when i'd be able to go out into the world and feel so happy again...then again, exams in less than a week...do i even have time to enjoy myself?

yesterday we went to another granduncle's house. my elder uncle was driving, and we were enjoying getting lost everywhere. what was really cool was that my cousin was actually talking to me...i don't know why. to cut a long story short, everyone's happy with each other, and that's about it. right now i'm just typing this away counting the number of calories that've been digested during the last two days. it's worrying, really, but...what the hell, yea? eat first, worry later.

though i'm breaking one of my proper resolutions. bummer.

my aunt has guests over now. it's a whole mess of a house. don't know why she'd let anyone in. *sigh* and that's all for now. temptation waits once again.

i want to wake up with the rain at my window.
i want to fly up to the moon without looking down.
i want to float on the air of the nations.
i want to be lifted by the hands of my creed.
i want to catch falling stars out of orbit.
i want to watch the sun rise and set by my side.
i want to hear the waves roar through my earpiece.
i want to wave to the birds as they rush overhead.
i want to hunt the bear that hunts the tracker.
i want to play the music that my father couldn't make.
i want to herd sheep while riding a pony.
i want to hold children in my arms and not back down.
i want to see stars burst out into novas.
i want to turn on the world's light.
i want to run as far as i can to stand still.
i want to walk upon streets paved with gold.
i want a canvas to paint a desert on.
i want men to sit down and listen to each other.
i want brothers to lay down arms and live.
i want children to play and pace through walls.
i want paint to tell the tales of the women.
i want death to come to me as swift as a blade.
i want darkness to engulf the sinners.
i want light to encourgage the saints.
i want love to be a commodity.
i want to share a piece of pie with a man.
i want empires to fall and crumble at my feet.
i want the greatest to heed my commands.
i want the savage to be the saviours.
i want a martyr to be the hero i never had.
i want causes to be more than talk.
i want visions that make a difference.
i want justice against tyranny.
i want tyranny against the unjust.
i want to trade my money for happiness.
i want my happiness to resonate throughout.
i want to live forever.
i want to make a difference in this life.
i want to help great men make choices.
i want those choices to be right.
i want silver to be the moonbeam.
i want to rip the sky of all stars.
i want to destroy something beautiful.
i want to gamble my life away.
i want to ride the currents that i can't avoid.
i want pleasure out of the misery i feel.
i want everyone else to feel my pain.
i want to see you again.
i want the furious to gain restraint.
i want the passive to feel their fury.
i want to paint a world better than ours.
i want cardboard boxes to be the homes of the future.
i want women and children saved for real.
i want peace on earth.
i want people to sit down and talk and listen and negotiate.
i want smiles to be taken and given.
i want the jagged lines to be straightened.
i want red skies to be changed to blue.
i want to save the world.
i want prequels to be better than sequels.
i want to dictate what it is i want in life and to get it.
i want to strategise over how to win wars.
i want to know how to love the bomb.
i want to know why i won the war.
i want to teach the world to sing.
i want the world to sing with me.
i want the ground to tremble at my very name.
i want to manage to hold it all together.
i want to believe that something will be done to change.
i want my last day on earth to be my most meaningful.
i want you to read through all this.
i want time to stand still for the little things.
i want those little things to remain within.
i want love to spread like a wildfire and not run from us.
i want trees to talk and tell us what they know and hear.
i want the earth to tell me where it all went wrong.
i want to talk to God.
i want my children to love me.
i want to die a happy man.
i want to see the world again.
i want to stay free.
i want to be beautiful.
i want perfect teeth.
i want to be successful.
i want to be rich.
i want to be famous.
i want john to kick paul's ass.
i want to end global hunger.
i want to end illiteracy.
i want more time to do the things i want.
i want all i want.