Because they were living a different flag. I guess.

Watching a live malay talk show on a sleepless Sunday morning while waiting for my friend modelling a modern baju melayu, really tickles my insanity out. I can't do nothing but laugh. And laugh. And laugh.

Sharifah Shahira, the host, is a funny mom. And sometimes a stupid actress too. But this unknown-interviewed girl is just too much in both ways.

Hell she is stupid. Malaysian is stupid, generally. Klang Valley-an are (edited). Stupid enough to come out with really an immature-not-knowing-anything statement.

She was asked about the baby dumping thingy. How she feels and what can be done in tackling this issues? And her answer is if a wife is more human and responsible, this dumping thingy won't be happened. Yeah. You heard me right. Wifey. An effing wife.

That don't answer how much she know but how much she don't know. Poor her.

Oh. It's Merdeka night. Save your curses for another eight month or so. So you can throw it when baby dumping issues was again being a hit. Unless they decided it's a fasting month and gangbang is a not, you're at loss then. Heh.

And when you saw a stupid guy speaking on national television that there were twelve stripes on the Jalur Gemilang, don't put your middle finger up yet. He might be born under the different flag. The one with no moon and more stars drawn.

Salam kemerdekaan. God bless Malaysia. And America too.

These days, I have nothing.

It's been a while since I last reading. Blogging thingy wasn't really do well in winning my heart lately. Same it goes with books. Books. I buy one book at the start of the semester. A text book. Didn't do very much to my excitement, I let it rust in my green book rack.

Books for me is a holy thing that everyone should have. Owned. Mind it a text book or not. Learn or not learn. Good or not good. Books bring the perceptions on what their writer thinks of. Maths. Musics. Arts. Comedy. The world. Honest and modest.

I am a writer. I, myself write from everything. On everything. Yeah. Writing is easy.

From the first time I start writing, I feel like the world has taking itself away from me. Or maybe it was me taking myself away from the world. Naive. But it worth the sacrifice. Sometimes, spending my time with this few white pages is much better than the world.

What I have here is my emotion and this silly mind. Here, I am the king. King of my delicate minds. This body and souls is just the medium between me and the world. A world which is hard to explains. Yet, hard to understand.

Always mistakenly understood.

I am a writer. A writer of my own world. A reader of my own word. I love writing the same way that I hate reading.

Continue and I'm so fucked up. Beautifully.

They were born with less weight up and more weight down.

Let's say you got ten million dollars to give away to three different person.

One is whom you know will always be alongside you, through your ups and downs. Another one is whom you will consider a lil bit unusual, sometimes but still can be counting in handling something which you couldn't. Tolerate.

And the last one is a total known who can't understand even when you tell that A is for an apple and F is showing both of your middle finger.

A butt hurt, I called.

Dude. Your kite was flying too high. It almost hit the sun. Bring it down a little.

Shit was really a nice way to kick off this post. Yeah. I really hate it when I had to do something for nothing. Last night, I've been forced to stay up to 4 am just to cover every single thing I've learn for today managerial economic test. Tired, I even missed my sahur.

And this next morning, ended up in a frozen hall with no sign of my goddamn Professor really is made my day.

Everyone then jokingly speculated that this professor maybe too tired of fasting so she decided not to come to class which is so not true. How can she? She wasn't fasting. She's Indian for god sake. And when another guy step up, jokingly says, he saw her at the McD having her Big Mac, I think that just more harsh than funny.

She's Indian!

Her absence was no biggies actually. She sent us her apology already. But to still mentioning her in this post, just show what a not-good student I am.

One thing that will surely prove to be pretty costly in this blogging industries is when airing your personal views. In airing your personal views, you sometimes tend to ignore others feeling. Worse come to worst when you start to kill your own feeling too.

Popularity? Nope? Might be? Ouch, it's hurt?

It's my perspective after all. Just don't tell me yours.

If experience is genuinely the best teacher, why should I go to school?

I'm done talking. Err.. asking.

Facebook is a place where you write your little diary, lodge a wallet-loss report and say a holy prayer.

When you've been too long in a certain condition, situation and environment, one thing best is you'll never have problem getting used to it again. And again.

I got a friend of friends who end up with a new boyfie three days after spending most of her night crying like she was in one man land. Either she's not good at enjoying a no-boyfie-life environment or so well in adapting a heartbreak situation.

And if you've been single for the last decade of your age. I really don't think it will be a problem if your spouse decided to call off your two-years-but-not-going-anywhere relationship.

Now, how good is that?

Even if I wasn't a family-guy, I can still try and become one.

The last time I spend the whole month of Ramadhan with my beloved mom is during my primary school.

I was planning on going back to my hometown this weekend only to be spoiled by my brother's what-a-high-commitment toward his work. Can't blame him for that. Work in such a huge company with such super competition, that's for me just acceptable. Corporate life suck didn't they?

He text me then. Confirming that it will be next week. Fine with me.

Just when I was about to continue my computer-gaming session, this stupid statement came up. "Dude, our economic test is next week aite? Saturday 21st." And I was like cursing and cursing and cursing which really done well in deducting my fasting reward.

Thanks you, me.

Lately there were lots of sad news about this un-sin masterpieces found in an unnecessary place. There were also talks and talks of sending the convicted to death penalty. I gave that a vote. To teach others not to, I think that will work.

They deserved it.

And the title is really something you don't have to think. It wasn't my intention of writing some mental harassment not worthy reading entry on this Sunday heat. Damn, I'm hungry.

Josh no more. I'm down to Alfie.

Love at the first sight.

Is it relevant?

Okay. Enough with love. I just can't get enough of it, didn't I? I'm broadening this to another aspect of life which is.. Life. How many time have you encounter an outsider who wasn't near to what you expected of.

Like this guy who wasn't so Chinese as I portrayed and me wasn't that Josh I once exaggerated.

Happy fasting. And God bless.

Hence, I must be the most cursing 'religious' school graduates.

One most annoying thing I never really want to remember is knowing the fact that my account balance is down to only a hundred bucks with almost another four month to complete.

Fuck the truth.

I'm really not good at handling money. I can easily flush out a sum of money without even realize the thing I've spend the money on. I can quickly buy this, that and that in a second. Oh liar. Minutes sound much logic. But that's my specialty.

I got another six hundred ringgit in my brother hand and another hundred at my sister. They borrowed it last month. That's how we run it in my family actually. Whoever got their money first, he need to help others who didn't. And this time it was me being the lucky first.

But that's another story. Unless their stupid maktab decided to bank in their delayed allowance right now, consider it an accrued fund. Still, I got eight hundred in total.

The truth is I really didn't feel that comfortable wandering around with only hundred bucks account balanced. The truth is I don't really feel comfortable ringing my mother asking her help to settle my next month house-rent and bills. And the truth is I feel much like a loser when my elder brother texting me saying he has put some money into my account.

Fuck the truth.

Because bad things always come in bulk.

You know ( betting you don't ), in life, everyone must have their own philosophy.

So that they'll know where their limit stand. My lecturer told me that. He was so against bribery that he set it deep in his heart that he will neither ever take or give bribery. Because he believe if he want the world to change, it himself he need to change first.

Setting and creating the philosophy was easy. You don't have to be Confucius to create one. But to implement was another. You have to be dedicated. Giving all you can to the world. To change it. I mean, how can you resist a bag of twenty gran well-placed on your desk.

Well. That took lots of courage. And sacrifices. And dedications too.

Only to find out your desk-mate won't mind all the integrity you bluffing about. Not even once.

An art personnel. The second chapter.

I talked to an art personnel few days ago. I told him it always nice to have a plan B so that you were well prepared when your first got fucked up. He goes against me. Right there.

He told me how thrilled life can be without the B plan. How many thing you can learn about when you decided not to use a substitute. Not to even create one. The joy of watching your dream burn into ashes.

'That's a disaster'. Again, I told him.

'You just never experience it (the thrill)'.

He laugh and then smile. He then ask me to walk into the middle of the packed road and stay there for quite a minute. I gave him a strange 'you gotta be kiddin aite' look. Only to add another big grin to his face.

'You never experience one (the thrill) coward. Go'.

I take the challenge. I make my way into the packed road. One step after another. A honk startled me just when I was about to put my left foot into the steamy road.

Fuck. You're not an art personnel. You are insane. Personally.

You aren't weird. You're special.

One thing that I've learn about procrastination thingy is that it takes you out of your comfort zone. For the time being.

What a luck!