Archaic Transliteration

I've never felt this way in a long long while. Part of me, wait scrap that every nerve of me is wondering out the question, repetitively playing again and again in my head, why, why, why? Perhaps I could just sit here and ponder and ponder till dawn about it but its not going to change much is it?

3.26AM and the clock's a-ticking. A sudden realization hit me that I haven't been blogging much these days. Nuffnang's been sending me bouts of emails about their events and activities, supposedly "kang tao" for those in the blogosphere. But coming to think about it, I used to be overly enthusiastic about being able to blog. Write down emotions, words and whatnots into this digitized form. Now a days I realized that I preferred to mop about my own emotions deep within me rather then translate them out.

Pretty much an archaic translation if one stops and think about it.

Perhaps its because I've lost my will to really write down everything here. Perhaps I should start adhering more towards doing so, at least it'll enable me to pour stuff out rather then keep them cooped-up within me.

Granted the stuff I write here is practically lost in translation towards anyone other than me who reads them most of the time, yet at least its a place for me to vent out whatever I'm feeling, whether I'm frustrated, annoyed, happy or any swipe of ecstasy or moodiness that decides to take control within this pallet of my emotions.

Perhaps I'll be returning here more often from now on.

I'm feeling some severe indifference at the moment, granted the other side probably does not even bother a single thing about this matter but yet I'm feeling indifferent about it? I wonder, perhaps I've allowed attachment till the point whereby any single act of defiance or ignorance gives me this indifferent vibe?

But then someone has mentioned this time and time again, and I hear her words resonating within me every now and then about this matter.

Greed.

I doubt its greed that the other half is really there for, more like an opportunist to me. Problem is I already knew about this way back long ago when the first acts of ignorance start to crop up yet I find myself repeating them again and again. For the fact is, taking advantage and having powerful networks is what one would strife for but what about those that have no source of linkage towards opportunistic tail-ends or good fortune? What about those sources that are just they are?

Smart.

Cunning if I may touch there. Perhaps the indifference in me is really as it is, stupid. Perhaps I really haven't learn my lesson after all and I'm bound to repeat it again and again while the ignorance would last longer and longer and longer.

I'm considering doing things, things I know that I would only grow to regret but I does make me wonder after all.

I'll never understand I guess.

How I hate this.

Everything needs to be titled these days. So what happens to those untitled?

2 years down and counting.

It has been pretty abysmal so far I guess, physical changes aplenty, perhaps in ones that can be seen yet deep down in the core no anjakan paradigma going on there.

Anjakan paradigma = perubahan or rather its English counterpart paradigm shift.

Heh.

One of those few Malay bombastic terms that I spam again and again in my Malay essays way back in high school. If there is ever an opening to insert big loud word that would rake up a few marks in kosa kata, insert anjakan paradigma for best results.

Moving away from that, pretty much no change has occur. I still find myself being same as how I was way back then. Way back before any of these physical changes start moving into my life. How I changed, how i remained the same. Pretty much parallel among the lines there, I still find myself being reluctant to engaged socially or as active as then, preferring to being a recluse within.

Forced.

Wasn't to my taste anyway, forcing myself to actually enjoy when I was disgusted within. Perhaps it all stems down to my initiation towards stereotyping or categorizing within a box people and their antics. Perhaps that's what the whole problem, certainly something that a few V.S.O.P's are not going to cure. Ironically I named myself Chivaslicious for a bunch of games I started playing recently.

I had my first one back 2 years ago. Eager. Willing. Enjoyed the company. Casual. Friends. They're pretty much fleeting. Ephemeral. Fun-factor loss. Then I realized that I was starting to get disgusted by it all and I stopped going anymore.

Haven't clubbed for 390 days.

Yeah i do keep tracked of them, lifeless I'm not.

Then its not like most people understand what's lifeless anyway beyond their mere comprehensiveness of it being used to describe the generic stereotypical loner. The unfriendly one. The odd one out. The straggler.

Then I counter, how much of life does one have when one realizes that the generic stereotypical fame that one achieves is but a hollow entity bought on by money? How much life does one find in the fallacy that your friends show you and the fact that you're but enjoying something that's temporal?

Then again I was thought of as a weakling and its not like I'm able to start proving things the other way right?

A recluse, a loner, an enigma, poker face.

Well I'm not going to be dong anything stupendous soon so don't expect any Squall Leonhartish kinda stuff. Fantasies and day dreams are aplenty there but quiet singular recluses are not all going to start whipping out gun blades and do some save-the-day kind of stuff. Similarly not all Asians are Jackie Chans and all Afro-Americans are Tupac Shakur.

Kelvin accompanied me yesterday night, he seemed content with his new Final Fantasy Dissidia which he was talking animatedly about before the batteries decided to run aground.

Pretty much describes me really. When I decided to run aground.

I had an unexpected phone call this morning. Woke me up at 8.30am. Its been several months or so since I heard her voice.

How are you?

Might be coming back sometime near Christmas, a week's break.

Doing fine, classes start 2 weeks later. Registration next week.

Random, just asking how are you?

Alyssa called. And after all that history admittedly I had forgotten all about her with everything occupying my head these days being felt like lead. Guess one really drifts apart when one's only connection happens to be through online. Talking with her, I realized that I never met up with a few friends at all when they're back recently in Penang.

Have to catch-up next time they do come back, I do owe favors after all.

Peiying's gone off to study, just like a few bunch of people I know in this busy university blues month. Then again she's the only now that's able to make me shed tears. Not my male ego clashing against my inner self but admittedly I failed to really cry when she left. Failure to cry however does not prevent me from being slightly mournful though. Her innocence and bountiful happiness is what makes her refreshing, helps me keep my optimism up, as she's just a little ball of sunshine that keeps me going and happy.

Mosquitoes biting me while I ponder on how best to form the next string of thoughts into words.

And I realized that I don't know how to anyway, which pretty much describes how I feel about my next course of action these days.

Those Dreams

Now there comes every now and then someone, just anyone, any random person who was strike by an inspiration. His eyes gleaming with perseverance, his marrow forged with determination, his heart goal-bounded, his mind dances towards rhythms of epic songs and paeans of his imminent glory that he'll achieve.

But what is one when failure seems to follow like a ravaging plague that tears through this dream that he possesses? And what is one when this failure is self-brought, due to his own reluctance and pessimism? And what if his initial ecstasy and willpower to set an earthly plateau for his own casa signorile is brought down by his own doing? Leaving it all but a castle in the sky?

What happens when slacker's dream?

What happen when they dare dream, dream the dreams of powerful individuals of rising phoenixes? What happens when they dare to envision the Cinderella stairs that they'll never be able to summoned that willpower to build?

And we all know it just ends with failure don't we?

Yet these individuals, they dare to dream, dreams that they all want to achieve, yet they allow their own self-wrought pessimism to plague them, they allow the crumble of their tools to create those mansions, and most of all they allow themselves to be complacent.

Epic fail, no?

Illusions

If everything I ever lived for outside of what I take solace in is reality then is the solace which I seek comfort in but an illusion? Is it but a short moment, a flickering comfort from the harsh truths of reality? What I wish for and all that I placed my hope in is but an entire series of self comforting words I say to hide the fact that I'm just plain useless within reality?

It is not the first time which I find myself asking this question. Again and again have I wondered if this comfort, however momentarily it is, was it just a temporal phase of self comfort and denial? Something which I've been using to cover up the fact that within reality I am just plain useless? That I'm just hopeless as the next loser to come? That while I hide within this comforting womb am I allowed to believe my lie that I'm actually one that could achieve greatness when it's but just a repetition I keep telling myself?

The dream only unfolds its stories while I'm being shelled up within this amniotic fluid. This gentle warmness is all but a blatant lie in which where I weave around me to prevent myself from facing the truth that I'm but a single blade of grass; insignificant, weak, useless and just one of the masses within this world. That I am but insignificant, that I can never achieve greatness and that I but indulge in my own lies thus finding solace in this temporal illusion that I cower in.

Therefore in the moments that I hide in this illusive womb, I believe, I am, I will be, I already am greatness incarnate and when I step out of its gentle lulls I am just plain useless. A failure like all the failures out there a weakling within this world where I just allow the days to pass by while I wallow in my failures all the while believing in my lies of greatness.

Perhaps I'm but a little lost boy who lies for self comfort after all.

Nothing has change I guess.

Yet I dared.

Antara Malaikat Dan Jin

No seriously that's what the Malay subtitles translated the title of Angels & Demons.

But then again the subbing guys for our local film industry have always been doing that haven't they? Literal translation which resulted into the legendary laugh out loud direct translation of Iron Man.

Seriously, it's the only movie in which where I was laughing at the opening.

Who wouldn't upon the sight of Orang Besi?

Anyway the translation this time was pretty alright, but you still won't find Dan Brown giving a title like Angels and Genies would you?

Sarikatas aside, first the compulsory synopsis,

Antara Malaikat dan Jin

"Despite his notorious relationship with the Church, Harvard symbologist Robert Langdon is once again called upon to decipher the clues to a catastrophic conspiracy. The Pope has died, and before conclave can begin to determine his successor, the four preferitti (primary hopefuls for the papacy) are kidnapped. An ominous threat of their hourly demise, along with the complete annihilation of Vatican City, is issued as an elaborate revenge scheme for a persecuted group known as the Illuminati. With their meager time limit steadily counting down, Langdon, accompanied by beautiful physicist Vittoria Vetra, must travel throughout Rome to unravel the carefully hidden signs that will lead them to a terrifying adversary, a harrowing discovery, and the shocking truth."


*Spoiler Alert*

Angels and Demons stayed true to the book's storyline sans the over the top action or dramatic parts of the book. For example in the book Robert Langdon felled down the sky as well into one of the rivers of Rome (forgot which river) while our Il Carmelengo Patrick came floating down the sky thus making the messiac presence even more powerful in him after his supposed sacrifice by bringing the anti matter with him up the sky.

In the movie, he just parachuted down (still very dramatic though) while Langdon stood by with Vittoria Vetra (Ayelet Zurer) (Audrey Tautou who played Sophie Neveu was way hotter I think.)

Well according to my taste anyway. *cowers at angry fan boy mob*

In the book Vittoria Vetra was beautiful, smart and hot.

In the book Sophie Neveu was beautiful, smart and hot.

I find the latter hotter.

In the movies Ayelet Zurer is as beautiful and as intelligent as she's supposed to be.

I like Audrey Tautou better though.

I think I'll pass on the beautiful, sexy, intelligent and sultry Italian scientist...



HELLO French cyrptologist!

Anyhow the plot is pretty fast paced, where the storyline is on a constant movement. Everything seems slightly rushed though. Yeah, yeah we known that the they have slightly less then 6 hours before the anti-matter goes fireworks over the Vatican and such or quoting the Illuminati saying, the Vatican shall be bathed in light but it seems as thought the action sequences when by pretty fast, whereby I didn't realize they were already at the Fountain of Four Rivers. (My head was still pretty much stuck at the Ecstasy of St Theresa) So fast in which where they have to be omit the building sexual tension between Vittoria and Langdon.

Yeah while Langdon in the book gets lucky, Langdon the movie is about as exciting as a monk when it comes to the sexual development.

Bond he ain't.

The selection of Ewan Mcgregor to play the Carmelengo Patrick was sweet. Seriously, he was charismatic incarnated when he gave that speech in the College of Cardinals in the Sistine Chapel. No seriously, he was so good he completely OVERSHADOWED Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks)

Coupled with the fact that they made him fell off the sky ALONE while Langdon stood by and watch the fireworks gave his character uber screen time.

And its Ewan Mcgregor for crying out loud! British goodness in every minuscule micropore in his body. Obi-Freaking-Wan Kenobi!

Who says priests can't ooze sex?

And err... yeah there was Tom Hanks. Nothing remarkable about his performance, it didn't leave me jumping of my seat. He plays an alright Robert Langdon, sans the ridiculoos hairdo he had in Da Vinci Code. He's suppose to be younger in this movie, its a prequel afterall. Which brought me to questioned:

Does one's hairstyle become even more ridiculous as one ages?

Most memorable scene of him was in a pair of Speedos though.

Overall the movie was pretty enjoyable, especially after a tough week there were no drastic cuts such as shown in the Da Vinci Code and although the minor details have been ommited, the plot stays true and fast according towards the book.

I give it a 7.5/10.

Time After Time

The title above has absolutely nothing to do with the Cyndi Lauper song of the same title. No in fact what I'm about to write here has absolutely no connection at all with the lyrics and the meaning of the song.

Time seems to pass by so fast. It is as though with every bated breathe, every flash of my eyelid, every passing moment, time speeds past me. While I'm still treasuring one moment or struggling by in another predicament, I close my eyes and then I realize that the moment I adore or the trouble I was in has past a few days or weeks by.

I don't even have the time to ponder over the difficult issue or to treasure the moment deeply within.



The bougainvillea pries its virgin lips
And Earth basks in its creation's glory
Then Man appear and severe its bonds
Into His own Eden of yore

For Earth cries at its lost and rape
But rather then expose it to pluck and snares
A Heaven of its own for its creation's bloom
A bittersweet paean it sings

Koh Su Yang
1:08AM Friday, 15 May 2000

How I wish I could slow down time, reduce every flashing second into LONG hours. But then it is but merely a dream isn't it? There is no such as prolonging time or reducing the passage of its periodical wave.

Those memories, those moments however precious they may be will fade off with the passage of time. What you hold dear today which you're unable to treasure you'll soon find it far behind you.

6.00am...

... is probably the earliest I've ever woken up to study.

Which is what I did this morning.

Albeit accidentally.

Came back at 1.00am yesterday night after a study routine at college yesterday evening. Yesterday's session was not exactly very fulfilling as I only managed to accomplish a little which explains why the sudden thought of waking up at 6.00am today. Initially I did thought of coming back to jab a stuff into my brain but then I saw my bed.

With its fluffy pillows.

And its comforting cozy blanket.

With its oh-so-heavenly mattress.

And a very the huggable bolster staring back at me.

I was defeated.

So I ended up snoring through the better part of the night without even touching my study materials...(which I'm suppose to in order to make our group study sessions slightly more profitable). Then dad yelled at my sister to hurry up and I wondered why the hell would my dad and sister appear in my dream of running through an endless maze of corridors in my high school (strange dream, don't ask) then I woke up and realized it was somewhat 5.57am.

Might as well make myself useful since I was up, so I took my books and read a few paragraphs.

Now if I was somewhat more disciplined I would've probably raced through my study materials and notes and end up being an annoying 'tard who shows off by lecturing on and on about how much I've studied and belittling you in every demeaning way to show that you inferior mortals haven't caught up to my standard but I'll just demean you but won't insult you directly so that I can afford to come towards you and steal your answers because you wouldn't be able to say NO but sadly I'm not blessed with such discipline.

*cough* FIVE *cough*

So I ended up drifting through sleep and awakening all the way till 8.00-something.

Now if my brain was not that focus on the Profit/Earnings ratio question which was staring back at me and the fact that I was wondering why I was up, I would've probably just went back to sleep and awake later much more refreshed to absorb the things I read.

But I didn't, not feeling too bright in the morning.

But a good thing that came out of all that nonsense which stretched yesterday evening till now is:

1. As wild as my imagination drifted, I got some work done, namely FMP and my last bit of Tax.
2. I finished up the Internal Control questions which we discussed yesterday evening.
3. I surprised myself by resisting the lure of the Nasi Goreng Sotong which the others were busy salivating all over thus saving myself from spending as well becoming rounder.
4. The horrible Internal Control write-a-thon assessment which had me writing a Sejarah-length essay answer earlier is over.

But most importantly, I showed discipline (which is pretty hypocritical of me since I mentioned I did not earlier) by resisiting the lure of Nasi Goreng Sotong.

And that is not easy.