# 200.

Larasephia was right. It was always sound like I was trying to put myself on the rational side. I am. But never did I trying hard to sound like one.

Truth is I am having this problem of emotion-less toward thing happening around me. It's always seem like I didn't care and to get those emotion back, I need to be rational.

You know like when every single people talks about how bad Japan is, lets pray for them Japanese, that's what you get when you hurt dolphins and all, I just go 'Sure, sure, the only Japanese peeps I know ins and outs is Maria Ozawa.

I should pray for her, no?

Or when that saya-gay-saya-ok dudette brought himself into the Malaysian's taboos, all I was thinking was 'Good for him. Now I have less cock to worry about'.

Because I am a post-android who's yet to become a human. I don't take order but if I do, I'll shoot to kill. Love me or hate me hard. And I just won't give a damn.

Yeah. I can't even find the right title for this shit.

Human didn't possessed super power, you idiot!

It has to be said that I don't prefer those peeps who jotted about the religious thingy on the facebook. I used to either skipped the post or hide it.

I think it was stupid. I mean to talk about God in public.

I used to look at thing as a whole; from the convict's perspective to the victim and to the crime fighter, itself. As a whole. You know like cock, rape, anal and that big bad bed. As a hole.

Rationality and emotionality do have differences in what ought to be a pretty similar role.

As such in writing when you need to always consider the emotional and the rationality part. Especially when you were airing out your opinion. Failed to do so will likely cause your 'honest opinion' to become a little too harsh or maybe a little too soft for them, readers.

Leading your judgment to nowhere but in between.

Because being rational for me is to abandon God while to love Him is to become one hell of emotional fag.

And yes, nobody want to end up being an idiot. You idiot.

Bill Gates was once a dropped out and now a billionaires.

Fucking read Mr. Gates biography will ya?

I think telling these little fellas that they were doing good by not achieving a better result for their Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia is plain stupid. That show how much they don't care about you kids. That's how they tell you to go and fuck yourself up.

Yes, they were right. It's not the end of the world. But unless you got yourself a brain of him and a big fucking mighty rich family, I have none but one advice.

Shine it up, roll it tight and shove it up.

Your ass!!

Et Ducit Mundum per Luce II.

I was having a hell of nightmare last night.

My family were all killed by this psychopath neighbour. This well-known psychopath neighbour, he was at my age, currently unemployed and was at the lowest point of his life.

I was the last person dying. I got stabbed in the chest for quite a countless time.

The dream was on a repetition mode. Every time I got myself killed the dream was none but starting again. It was like I was giving another chances to save my family from this psychopath neighbour. Something which I kind of failed to deliver. But it never stop me from trying.

Hell, I am the king of my life and death. Even my most horrendous dream spares me my chances.

Loser's lullaby.

One thing I missed the most here is me writing from the perspective of a single guy. One which I stopped doing for almost a year, now.

For me, in everything and at every time I write, I need to first put myself in the situation.

So to write about a single-lonely guy who was in need of a girls love, I need to first free myself from any love relationship I was bound to. And if I ever decided to write about a relationship, I then need to jump into one, first.

Honesty, that's what my major concern all about.

Like right now, I was writing in an empty office on a lunch hour mode just to get this feeling of a broke guy who skipping his lunch after buying his girlfriend a new Guess handbag as her birthday present.

I made it, am I?

Can't I help humanity AND wear pants?

It's a week of audacity, tenses and loss of hope.

I guess the world is really going to its end. You know with all the climate changing and the natural disaster happens around us, no one left to denied that assumption. We have the middle east revolution few months back, New Zealand earthquake a month ago and now this tsunami thingy in Japan.

I was joking with some friends the other day when we got our hand on the earthquake news. I told him the Godzilla was digging its way up to the surface and we laugh our asses off.

Yes its funny.

Especially when taking into consideration that Japan; the world largest exporter of superheroes were in such a huge problems. They usually got the likes of Ultraman to save them from the Zetton's monster. Cybercop against the Death Trap and to the smallest Doraemon who help Nobita from the bullish Giant.

Now, it was all different. It wasn't scintillating anymore. Thousands were reported died from these horrific tragedy while almost fifteen thousand of people gone missing.

For the next couple of years, months or days, the new generation of these Japanese kids will questioning their superheroes ability. "Where were Gundams when my mom were taken by the waves?" "Why don't Flashman bring their big jet and start the evacuation?" "Can't Son Goku ask the Dragon Lord to revive Tokyo?"

And it will be all down to the manga artist to again re-install these kid's believe.

Those kind of believes that bring their Tsubasa inspirational football teams fly high at the World Cup. Not just another bionic superheroes with multiple changes of hand or a fight to survive Island. Lame.

Because it wasn't some Gorgonian monsters they're fighting with now, it's nature. That even if all the Ultraman's family were there, I have this utmost doubt that they can't do nothing about it.

Welcome to my fucking broken home.

So what's the purpose of me, writing?

I kicked start my writing involvement during my school time. I was invited by a friend to write in his underground zine. I was writing on the Malaysian's mainstream revolution in Bahasa. For a sixteen years old stud whose experience came only from the two hours a week Bahasa classes, I think I've nailed it.

But it was ruled out due to the lack of funds and some problems. So the zine project was never happened and my articles was left rotten in my school's examination pad.

And I stopped writing since then.

2008, when Tony Pua win the 12th General Election, I start to learn what blogspot is.

I created mine. I blogged about everything I see, I heard, I read and I think. From footballs to love to girls to movies to songs to bands and to et cetera. I make my own poem, write my own song, provoking a stupid roomante but all in all, I READ MY OWN WRITING.

I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK! I READ MY OWN WRITING. FUCK!!

That's when I ask myself why am I writing for god sake?

I have to have a reader. Or maybe two. Three. I need readers to keep on writing. I think the stupidest person in the blogsphere is those who said they write only for themselves. Seriously go find a fucking paper or fucking private those blog!

Ok. I don't know you but I do. I need people to read what I write.

There's a number friends ask why didn't I put a single advertising gadgets on my blog. I gave them a very cliche answer.

"I don't write for money."

Because I don't think anything I write here worth a single penny.

I am a grammars freak. I didn't scored any of my BEL subject during my time at UiTM. Neither did I get a 6 for my MUET paper. I bet you guys will enjoy correcting my grammar mistakes than understand what I fucking write.

But I believe that it's not only grammar what's matter. It's more than that.

That everything I write here is a thought I opted to share. And when I say I opted to share, it means that it is always an option to read.

Having said that doesn't mean I am neglecting all the grammar aspects. I am working my sweet asses to that.

To find the right word to express between an anger and sad. To differ what has happened and what is yet to. To come out clean. To achieve the perfection.

Only time will come and tell.

But not now. Never. Because this time, I'm writing to keep myself awake. So my supervisor won't knocked my table and gave me don't-you-fucking-sleep grin.

Bang the doldrums and wave that wooden legs.

I am the type of guy who's imagination is as high as the sky. I used to imagine what people talks to its perfection and off course, imperfection. Depends on how the story were told.

Let's say when a guy friend talks of his nasty hook up with his girl, I'll imagine a really hot passionate sex on queen size bed, lots of ah.. uh.. ah.., doggy, blah blah and yes, cum shots.

Twice, at least.

Ok. Maybe too harsh for an example. But hey, for an example to be argue is harsh too you goddammit!

Let's say a cheap Adidas shoe for me is equal to a China made products. You guys got me?

The problem is when things I've imagined is never as it is in the real world. The nasty hook up was nothing but a 3 minutes of a crappy bj in a crappy car and my so called China made product is actually a 70% off clearance sales by Al-Ikhsan.

Double the fucked up, I know.

So now I opted to experience things, myself. Both the girl and the Adidas shoe.

Any volunteer bitches?

Vacancy.

I've made my mind.

After completing my intern and before I start committing my life into the society again, I'm going to give myself a BIG CITY experiences.

I will rent myself a small room in the middle of Kuala Lumpur.

I've done some searching on the net. A small unfurnished room of an apartment/shop-lot will cost me around 300 bucks a month, at the very least. To accommodate this price with my monthly income, I need to find a really suitable place with less miscellaneous cost.

Affordable lunch and dinner, cyber cafe, sexy neighbors and yes, no transportation cost.

So I can just walk to either go to work or to hang out with friends. Bukit Bintang, Imbi and Hang Tuah were so far my most preferable spot to live.

I'll work at the Pavilion again. Doing what I do best; skipping works and watching movies. Haha.

This entry is about being attacked by monsters. And a revolution.

I guess what destroyed the Arabic continent now is not the revolution but equality. A war to equality. Yes, I do blame the leader for fail to conduct in a better way of leading but still I have this side of me blaming the people for, in my honest opinion, being too fanatic with equality.

I too, believe in equality. I complain when my lecturer treats this dudette like she was his fucking wife. I complains when this policeman let his nephew escapes a traffic summon. But how far will I go for equality?

Dying is a big no, no, no.

Equality as what define by some dictionary is being in the same amount, level, value, quantity and status. Which is in contrast with the idea of life as a whole. I meant how can you rule when you were on the same level as the others.

Can you ask your fellow marhein to sacrify their soul while you were on your back, watching some football highlights?

You need a leader. Your world need a leader.

So you pick one. The best among you. And as a leader, you'll expect him to be as equal as he can. That every decisions he make next will draw smiles on everyone faces. Failed and he deserve a revolution. Streets demonstrations. A reformation.

And you bring up your new-soon-to-be-deposed leader.

Can't you live a good life just because an equality wasn't in your meal? Can't you go for Nasi Kandar when the hot and spicy roasted turkey wings wasn't in your plate for dinner? Is Mocha Frappuccino really is necessary? Ever heard of Kopi Tarik?

It's life, dude. Not some God greatest heaven.

Even in heaven, you'll have this segregation based on your previous deeds. Virtue. Firdaus, 'Adn, Na'iim, Na'wa, Darussalaam, Muaqaamah, Al-Maqaamul and Khuldi.

All created for a specific type of goodness.

Nah. I fucking googled that.