We all know how popular Facebook is. It not only allows us to connect with our long lost friends, but it also allows my Dad and the entire family generation to add me so that they can check on me and the kind of language or topics that I share on Facebook.
However, Facebook has become more popular for its quizzes. When I realized that there was an ongoing trend of people flooding my homepage with results from quizzes, I gave up.
No one really cares how hot you are, how long your penis should be or how sexy you are. It's this people who gladly post their results, that need assurance of how sexy/hot you are because you already knew that you were not hot/sexy in the first place. Technology screwed your mind BADLY...
No one also cares if your soulmate starts with M or J or S. I bet you redid the quiz over and over again to get the results you wanted just so that you could prove to people that you and Michael/Jane/Stupid are SO PERFECT to be together forever and ever.
And no one really cares if you have 1% chance or whatever percentage to date the girls/guys from some Korean band, or even Megan Fox. Reality check, it just shows how desperate you are, and how you can rank yourself in a higher status than your friends who got worst results. That's just lame.
Lastly, to those who uses the "All my friends" application and even take the hassle to tag every friend involved. Please stop. I don't give a shit if the computer thinks I'm poor, ugly or agreeable. Stop playing God for a minute and come back to Earth. No one cares of what you think or what that stupid application 'classify' me as, unless your friends are just like you.
What do I mean by 'just like you'. Well, if you're one of them who has been flooding your friends' Facebook news feed and honestly think that it's no harm, then you're wrong. What's bad is that you don't even realize that the reason why you're doing all these in the first place is to prove something to everyone else. But seriously, no one's bothered.
I finally managed to find some motivation to blog. True enough, as what Syuh said, many of my posts have been kept in drafts for a very long time, so much that it keeps piling up and up, without me completing any of it. But enough is enough, as there are many things to share!
Random Update.
Needless to say, it's the term break for me now. However, it's pretty unfair that the other polytechnics are having theirs at a different date to my polytechnic (yes, that means I can't get to catch up with some of my secondary school friends, and that includes you, Jeanice Mucuc).
And term break isn't really a break to me, as I still have three projects on my shoulders. You know, I actually hate projects now, for the fact that it is in groups. Call me selfish or self-centered but I actually feel that I work best on my own. This of course, has nothing to do with 'cramping me style'. I just don't like the feeling of having to wait for others, or to even have others wait for me. And the greatest setback is that everyone thinks or rather, have different perceptions of the project. This however, can be a benefit at the same time, as we can help cover each others butt.
Wait, why am I arguing with myself over such a topic? Written communication must have done something to me, with the argumentative essays and all.
Moving on...
These couple of weeks has left great and interesting impressions of some of my class mates. In fact, I got to scare them with my home made horror experiences, and even managed to put them in tough and uncomfortable situations (sorry about those times!) about unanswerable questions about religion, the spiritual world, their beliefs and also existence.
I was just being curious. True enough, there are many questions where both religion and science cannot solve. So who will give me the answer?
My mum thinks I'll die a horrible death one day, while trying to unravel all these secrets. But I'll most probably go mad before dying from a horrible death. Who knows?
The later part of this post has been deleted. It is not because I 'chickened out' or fear that a massive amount of parangs will be thrown at me. In fact, it has nothing to do with me fearing for what I wrote, as I will still stand by whatever I wrote earlier.
The reason as to why I removed the 'tale' is simple. I made a mistake. By penning my frustrations, anger and opinions down here not only makes it unfair for the 'victim', but it also causes loads of assumptions and its many other transformations to spread around.
For those who have seen it, good for you. For those who haven't, that's too bad. Whatever that is written in this blog is mere 'one ear in, and out the other' and I prefer no posts to be further discussed or spread around.
The vending of frustrations of that particular person, was indeed a major no-no and I sincerely apologize if she or anyone else takes insult to my words. I admit that I do have inappropriate terms when it comes to blogging. And the post may have sounded bitchy and idiotic.
I know that everyone deserves to have their version of the story told and so, I have decided to remove the 'tale' so as to prevent people from making guesses about who is involved and whatsoever. Besides, everyone needs to reflect on their own actions and from that, I found that I was writing away at my own free will without considering the feelings of those who were involved. Very selfish indeed.
However, as mentioned earlier, I still do stand by every word mentioned in the earlier version of this post. Mean, bitchy, whatever you want to call it. So long as I know that it's from my heart. Ignorant, but truthful. And they say, the truth always hurt.
PS: Whoever wishes to start a war/battle over what I wrote, I wish to gladly invite you to bring it on.
Interviews are my worst nightmare (other than having the lady from Ring crawl out of my TV, Chuckie to be under my bed, Freddy Krueger to live in my dreams, and Bloody Mary to live in my mirror and scary midget demonic clowns hopping /running around with minituare daggers all happening at the same time. Right Syuh?).
And I dread interviews so much. Why? It is actually not the fear of being rejected during the interview, but rather, not being prepared to give a speech about myself. I am fine with the fact that they ask questions that require me to state my point of view.
However, the killer question during the interview would have to be "Tell me about yourself". Trust me, if you were my interviewer, you'd pretty much want to smack me on the head. Because I always emphasize on the 'wrong' things.
Like in a recent interview that I went to, I was asked to tell them more about myself. And as always, I startd off with my interest. Soon enough, I landed myself in the "I appreciate Arts, but it wouldn't seem like the 'usual' Arts to some, because I enjoy tattoos and body piercings". And then, totally in my own zone, I'll relate incidents (sometimes even chuckling to myself) or events where I got to see beautiful art pieces (the tattoos and body piercings) up close and personal. And I even talked about wanting to head to Thailand to check out the Vegetarian festival because of the body piercings they do there.
The awkwardness would only come when I look up at them, to only see a horrified/bewildered face staring back at me.
And if that isn't bad enough, I have the habit of saying "Errhhh...", "Urm...." and even "And so on", so much that even I find it irritating.
Interviewer: So tell me something about yourself.
Me:I enjoy sports because I think that it is one of the few ways to unleash my potential without having to be judged based on my looks and speech. It also takes my mind of off things and so on.
If I were the interviewer, i'd simply shoot back with a "What the heck is so on?".
Thankfully, all the interviews that I have been to, have nice interviewers. Why oh why must they have interviews for so many events? It's not as if we're attending some beauty pageant or anything like that. True, we'll be asked questions that require to be answered on the spot, but never something that suggests telling them more about myself.
But then again, it's funny as I relate the entire scenario back at home. I guess I'm so used to the fact that my family accepts Art and are really open-minded, that I relate my opinions just like how I do it at home. And it beats giving beauty pageant answers.
I think most of my classmates know about that part already, if they've been reading my answers on the various articles posted on MEL. And of course, my friends who may know too much about me and my point of view. Hahah!
And other than finding difficulty in giving almost perfect answers to the random questions, I still have no idea why people find it hard to accept those with piercings/tattoos/weird sense of dressing (Weird/unique, you decide).
No matter how much we try to not judge a book by its cover, we always end up doing it.
And sometimes, I hate myself for doing so because when placing myself in that person's shoes, I'd never want anyone to judge me/think of me/ treat me like how I do to some.
Ridiculous.
And now you know, as to why I hate going to interviews. And it's because of interviews that always make me miss fruitful experiences and adventures.
I do hope that I can conquer this fear, or at least find a better answer to the questions soon. Or else, I'm screwed for future careers.
When was the last time you actually took a deep breath of fresh air?
I believe that a breath of fresh air not only keeps you alive, but it also tells you that you're alive. And apart from that, it reminds you that just like water, breathing/air is just as important for our survival.
What I am trying to drive at isn't actually entirely about breathing. In actual fact, what I am trying to portray, is how breathing can impact one's Life. Let's just put aside all the scientific terms shall we?
Breathing to me is not only about acknowledging my existence, but it is also a tool which allows me to take deep breaths every few minutes to relax.
Now it may seem like a ridiculous excuse to let loose, but trust me. A few deep breaths a day, maybe even adding a little zoning out, may do you some good. I am still in the midst of this project. But I must say, it has made me see things in a much positive way. Of course, not positive thatlah.
After the third week of school, I am proud to say that I finally am acknowledged in school!
Apparently during one of the lessons where we had to reveal an information about a classmate that no one else knew, a classmate of mine remarked that I had a very weird sense of dressing.
That comment then erupted into a class discussion where people added that I dressed very "Hawaiian" like, and some even said that it was their first time seeing someone who dresses like me!
No, I did not dress like that.
But why am I still so chirpy about my class's comments? Well, it just shows that I am not a trend follower, but rather a trend setter! I think I look good in how I dress, and finally people know of my existence in school! Weird or not, it depends on their taste of style. As for me, I accept weird as a compliment, because it brings me a step closer to being unique. Don't you think so?
So, a quick recap of the previous week, I made an entire or rather, most of the seniors in this particular club hate me. And the funny thing is, I did not even get a chance to annoy them. In fact, I had no chance to interact with them at all! The power of assumptions my friends, it can kill.
Then I had classmates discuss about my dressing style (as a class, with my lecturer!) as though I was a subject.
I have a strong feeling that people would idolize my dressing sense soon. Just you wait.
Oh, and I made tonnes of enemies with random perverts that added me/ I added when I engaged with them flirtatiously day after day before finally scaring them away when I claimed that I was the person that was in this photo:
Sadly, I did not save any of the chats that I had with them.
But what I did not understand was why they did not get the hint when I said that I loved 'slobbering myself in hot creamy butter', and 'jiggling my voluptuous gems at men'.
They must have thought of otherwise when all I intended to do was to speak the truth and nothing but the truth. Oh well...
But, there is actually one it that it absolutely mind-boggling to me. I actually made an enemy with someone when I showed him my actual photograph. How can?!?!
This person was actually a secondary school senior that I have never met before. We started off pretty okay, with random conversations here and there. Then there was the grand moment when he asked whether he could see my photograph. I told him that he could get it off of Facebook but he insisted that I send one to him.
Foolishly, I did. But that was where it pretty much ended. Apparently, he was someone who 'Anti's people like me; people who like piercings, tattoos and appreciate the various types of arts that are pretty much still a taboo around the world.
This (above) my friends, is just one of the many piercings carried out during the 'Vegetarian Festival' in Thailand.
Thus seeing that I had a lip piercing, dyed hair and so much more, he was pretty much enraged, and asked if I had any more piercings or tattoos.
Feeling that it was unnecessary for me to respond and be judged by what I look like, I simply ended the conversation with a "Go to hell. I don't see why you must make a big deal with what I like. You make it seem as though you need to control me. Like hello? I don't go around asking you/comparing you with the things I like or don't like. I just don't judge people like that. Dumb ass. Go bitch about anti-ing me to someone else, I don't give two f*cks about it".
Don't get this wrong. I'm actually a very nice person. That is, if you don't judge me for how I look/without getting to know me better lah.
I remember vividly of the day that I was born. The instant love I felt when you cradled me so lovingly in your arms. You accepted me without any hesitation. And you cared for me and called me beautiful even though I may not have been the 'Perfect' child.
I remember clearly of the events that happened when I was still too young. But I understand everything now. And I thank you for being there for my brothers and I, for we would not have been able to survive without you.
I remember the times where you brought me for a swim. You had a phobia of the water, and yet, just for me, you went into the pool because I was such a pestering child. I remember how excited I was whenever we had snacks after swimming. I remember the times where you brought us to Toys R' Us to pick our own presents. I also remember how you always fought for us in school whenever our teacher complained about us. I remember everything you did, just to pacify my brothers and I.
A loving mother, you shielded us from all signs on danger, and have even gone to the extreme of putting your life in danger, just for us. You always had us placed as priority, even today. And despite all the many years of suffering, you always emerge as top despite all the struggling.
No words can describe how much we admire you. Your strength, courage, perseverance and of course, your love for us.
But sometimes, we kids just can't seem to agree with how adults think. And I apologize for the many times we made you disappointed, sad and even angry. Words do hurt and I believe that sometimes we say them without thinking about the feelings of others. And for that, I'm sorry.
I remember the day we made you cry. It was on your birthday, when you were 42. It keeps replaying in my head, and I don't think I can ever forgive myself, needless to say, my brothers as well. You don't deserve all this, not when you did so much for us.
It's time for us to spread our wings and take charge, because mummy, you are not any younger. And I promise, that we'll never ever let you down again.
Someone once told me that true love is hard to find. And once you find it, you'll never ever let it go because it practically fills the gaps that were missing all along, in your life.
I may be too young and may never experience true love, but I sure do know how similar it is to finding 'The Ideal Home' (coincidentally, Micheal Buble's 'Home' is playing on my Itunes).
When someone asks you, "What's your ideal home?", how would you respond?
Many would shoot away at the location of their house, then go into the details; from the exterior structure to the interior structure; from the exterior design to the interior designs; from the basic necessities to the decorative preferences.
Now with this image of your future home set in your mind, most of you would set sail, to go in search for it. But many never get to see the finishing line. Why? It's either they gave up halfway, or because they are not satisfied with what they found.
But what exactly is an Ideal Home? Just walk by the streets one day and try to spot a homeless person (just watch some clips/videos from the net if you can't find any). Ask him/her where his/her home is and they might even show it to you.
True enough, it may be a plain old cardboard to you. But to them, it means the world. Because it not only provides cushion (although very little) when they sleep, but it also shields them from the Sun and rain.
So what is you Ideal Home again? To me, an ideal home is all about feeling it. It does not even have to be an infrastructure. Just like in this the homeless person's case, it was his/her cardboard.
So what exactly do I mean by 'feeling it'? Well, I believe that an ideal home is about the welcoming feeling once you step into it. It is about belonging to it. And don't you want to head to bed knowing that you're safe from robbers/crooks/thieves/boogeyman?
Home is the place where you grow and learn. To me, an ideal home should feel like the love from my mum, the one who nurtured me. That is how my ideal home is.
So people, the next time someone asks you what your ideal home is, close your eyes, and envision the love from your family and friends. That is what your ideal home should be like. So don't let the materialistic world brainwash you into slogging and then spending tonnes of money buying houses just because the majority population wants their home to be like that. Stay true to your heart and no matter what type of home you get, cherish it and love it with all your heart, just like how your mum took care of you.
Because you never when the world turn their backs against you. Who will take you in? Your home of course.
The 'highlight' of the week that left me downhearted would have to be the event on Thursday. I would not be revealing the details as to what happened exactly nor would I be revealing who were involved. In fact, I myself am not sure who were involved, other than myself of course.
What was so bad that it nearly brought me to tears? Well, let me just give a brief description of it (yes, the influence of presentations and summaries.).
I was practically defamed by a group of 'Seniors'.
I was criticized from head to toe. Nothing was left untouched. I was criticized for pretending to be really good at this certain skill when I am actually not. The remarks of not having any friends in this certain organization seemed amusing to them. Apparently I was trying to hard to have the 'look' that I was pretty fake to them (dry fit and FBT shorts were attacked too). Even my shoe was criticized, because they felt that I did not deserve to wear such shoes which was only for certain skilled people.
And you know what was damn bloody irritating? They tried chasing me away from where I was sitting, by constantly stepping back from their spot, to where I was sitting. So much that I had to shift myself away.
What was agonizing was not only the fact that I was sitting alone the entire time while they critiqued me, but also because none of them knew me at all, needless to say my name, background and capabilities, and yet i was rudely mocked at, for something they assumed was true, which in actual fact, is not at all.
But what was funny was that, they actually were conversing in Mandarin, and thinking that I was a Non-Chinese, they rattled away, critiquing me till they could not find anything else on me to pick on.
The start of Thursday had already been a bad day, and I did not need any more issues added. But I guess I have a strong magnetic field to it, and this happened. Frustrated, I couldn't help but 'replay' all the bad stuff that happened ( I have this habit of replaying scenes, be it good or bad.) on that very Thursday. As much as I tried to stay strong, (it's sickening sometimes to have never ending issues, both at home and in school. And worst if you're not able to help or even solve it. This does not apply to simply obstacles. And of course, everyone has obstacles in their life, that's just part and parcel of Life, right?) I couldn't help but blink away the tears because I did not want to raise the white flag.
Yes, the average human's instant reaction would be: "@#$%&*, screw them all!", followed by stomping off with your bag.
But you know what, I stayed on. No, not because I am stupid. But because I live for passion and for nothing else. Why should I let myself be demoralized and avoid something that I love, just because of immature imbeciles like them?
At the very least, I got to know how people think of me by my first impression. And if the morning 'events' hadn't ruined my day, I would have even chuckled with them, adding on that I looked disastrous with my unkempt hair and hole in my lip (I took out my lip stud because I didn't want to risk having my lips torn). And it would have been an epic moment to see their shocked faces, that the person that they were talking about actually understood what they were saying!
Yes, I do regret not doing that. Doesn't it just suck sometimes when you've done something, and after thinking it over, you wished you reacted differently?
But anyhow, I can't be bothered anymore. Because the matter was brought up during their debriefing (yes, I complained. I was in the whine-y, child-like mood. And the watery eyes made things easier, but more attention seeking-like for me. I just couldn't help it.).
And of course, this matter would not have been solved if not for Fann, Ina, Gina, Janice (all of them were there to comfort, encourage and support me as to not give up) and this other guy (which I have no idea what his name is).
And I'm doing pretty fine now. In fact, I find it amusing.
It was hilarious recalling how I reacted to it. In fact, the entire scene was funny. They should submit this scenario to FMyLife. Purely Epic.
It should go something like this :
"My friends and I were making fun of this girl while standing infront of her. She looked like a Malay, so we babbled on and on in Mandarin. We criticized every single detail about her, from head to toe. Nothing was left untouched. We had a blast, and we spoke superbly loud because we knew that she did not understand us. But halfway through the training, she actually spoke in Mandarin, and after training, our 'leader' confronted us with this issue. F*ck Our Lives."
Putting all these aside (retarded imbeciles shall not be acknowledged. Don't you agree?), the rest of the week was pretty okay. I had attachment on Tuesday, and boy, was the kids lovely!
School work is piling up, I seriously need to strategise and plan my daily time-table properly. If not, I'll land back to where I was during the Prelims; Pathetic.
I'll end here for now. Remember people, the next time you wish to bad-mouth someone, don't do it infront of that person lah.
I am actually not in a good mood right now, because of one very idiotic bitch that pissed me off.
I actually deleted the later part of the post because I find it really insensitive to post everything here. She may have hurt my feelings but I shouldn't be hurting hers. Because it'll make me no different from her.
A while ago, I told a friend that I found it sickening that almost everyone was getting excited and hyped up about orientation and for poly life to start. Indeed, like most people, he was not able to see through my feelings about not being excited for school. But I don't blame him.
I don't blame any of you who have tried your way in trying to make me see things in a positive, optimistic way.
True enough, poly life would end our torture of uniforms, high socks and 'coconut' foreheads. And not forgetting that we would be able to experience a whole new adventure, of having to meet people from all walks of life, from different part of Singapore, instead of sticking to the buddies you had in secondary school. And who would not look forward to new teaching styles, with high-tech gadgets and laptops. And with attendances checked against your school id card instead of your teaching screaming your name at the front of the class, waiting for you to respond back with a 'Present/Here!'. And then there are the awesome facilities to use; gym, swimming pool, library and whatsoever. And the best of all? You get to pick new, 'better' CCAs than the lame/common ones you had in secondary school.
In fact, I wish to apologize to whoever who have tried to change my mindset by making me think of "happy thoughts" rather than thoughts that piss the optimism out of people. Doesn't it just piss you off that I'm like that? Hahah, it actually makes me happy though, because I see things from a different perspective than others.
True enough, pessimistic views are not necessarily the right way to go. But hey, when there's people who see the glass as half full, you need to have others who see the glass as half empty. That way, the Earth will continue revolving.
But sorry if my pessimistic views influence you into doing the same. That's the last thing that I want right now.
Why am I so hard against myself and poly life? I actually don't know... Maybe I'm depressed or something. But then again, maybe it's just one of those moments where I can't be bothered about what's ahead of me, but rather, what's right infront of me.
I doubt this post would make any sense to any of you. But then again, this blog is like a journal to me, and so sometimes it's filled with 'emotional' posts that make no sense but what it does is that it relieves the stress out of me.
Can you feel how monotonous this post is?
I know most of you have had a blast at your orientation camp, so don't bother telling me about it. Because deep down, I feel like kicking you. How was mine? Well, I didn't attend mine because I didn't want to be sent to "Judgment Day" that soon. But I did attend the "Induction Programme" which was supposed to be compulsory but held no importance in the speeches (in terms of important lectures stuffs to take note) other than the motivational speech given by Mr Kenny Low, founder of Chec and O'School.
Why am I still so uninspired to talk about the "Induction Programme"? Well, it's because I did not enjoy it. True enough it was pretty exciting having to sit there and watch all the slides of poly life unleashing it's powers on the students, and the students going overseas and taking part in various activities.
But what made me fed up the most?
Well, first, Ash and I are not in the same class. I was actually looking forward to working with him in projects so that we could prove to the others that we are the ones to look out for, rather than to be looked down at.
Why am I so mean against the rest despite not knowing them yet? Well, you should have seen the number of stares Ash and I got when we were there. We were looked down with so much disdain in their eyes that we felt pretty loser-ish there. You don't have to speak to someone to know what he/she is thinking, you can see it in their expression. And from how we saw them looking at us, we were surely not welcomed.
Maybe it's because Ash is a guy and it's pretty rare for guys to be in this course. I don't think so, I think it's because of my lip piercing and dressing. They think I'd make voodoo dolls out of the kids than to take care of them.
And you know what's the most sickening bit? It's that there was these two girls who actually made a bet with each other to guess which course Ash was in, ECH or CPEE. And when Ash said he was in ECH, the girl smacked her friend, saying 'See, I told you'.
Hello, like WTF?
But then again, it doesn't really matter to me. Because this just show that people are just freakin' judgmental based on other people's looks. Piercings and tattoos are still not accepted in the society. But if I have to, I want to make a difference to that statement. Watch me, I will.
And Ash, we may be in different classes but fret not, we'll rise to the top man! Time will tell as to who are the great ones and who aren't. And to me, our names are written in all over the word 'Success'. We shall wow them and sting them so hard on their faces, that Botox won't work I tell you.
All that aside, I'm actually thinking of getting dreadlocks again.
This might sound like a bad joke, but on this day, at this very moment, I thought not of my past nor my future. But of my funeral.
This has absolutely no linkage to Good Friday, because for obvious reasons, I am not Jesus Christ even though it would have been awesome if I were to be the saviour of all souls, and to 'chat' with This guy in MSN while being in the form of Jesus. Oh well...
If you have no idea, today is the day where I officially grow old. And having to think of death on the day I officially age a little more obviously, is pretty much the the foundation steps of being a pure pessimist.
Death, till now, is still seen as a 'Taboo' word. And to make matters worst, back then, I thought that it was associated with the boogeyman pulling you into his closet, the grim reaper hooking your mouth with his scythe and flying away to the cemetery, drowning or having to be eaten by some shark or in this case, Barry. But as I grew older, I realized that Death had pretty much nothing to do with any of the above mentioned, unless of course, you have a supernatural friend and wish to die in a more special way rather than of old age or some disease.
Well, enough of the side tracking. As I mentioned earlier, on this special day, I thought of my funeral. No one, not even my family, have a clue that I had actually planned (on paper, that is) for my funeral ever since the age of ten.(Yes, I was a child who spent time flinging earthworms at girls, sprinkling salt on snails and even make ants of different territories fight, remember? Click Here then.) And surprisingly, I have not and do not intend to change them.
Like all funerals, the preparation begins with the body. I actually wish not to have a coffin at the wake, but for my body to be incinerated way before the funeral, or rather, the moment I die. I wish not of my body to turn from green to black, my body to bloat with bulging eyes and a protruding tongue. I wish not to have to 'feel' my pancreas digesting itself. And most importantly, I wish not to have my body to stink on this very sacred day. Yes, an urn with my ashes in it would do. Unless I die as a healthy person, then I wished for my body parts to be donated to the hospital so that they can save more lives. In a sick thought, I like the idea of having my body parts to 'live' on without my soul. But still the remains of my body shall be incinerated.
The funeral shall be held on 10th April, because I think it's pretty cool to live and die on the same day (I'll explain later). If authorities forbid, then we shall carry out the funeral in a fortnight (or two) after my death(Again, I'll explain later). It shall be held on a beach that has standards of Bali (or if we have no money, we could always go to St. John island or Port Dickson. So long as it isn't on Sembawang Beach, or anything like that. The grander the better, and I trust that my family would know of which beaches I approve of) , in a white tent.
There would no guest list, but a list of people I do not want to be at my funeral. The reason why there is no guest list is because the invited ones are the people whom I love dearly, and loves me back. People who have impacted my life, and people who's life I have changed, or at the very least, 'touched'. So if they feel that they fit into any one of the category, just head on down. They can be dressed whatever they want, however they want. Just so long as there isn't a large group of people dressed in black (Yet again, I'll explain later).
Only the VIPs (some family and friends) at the funeral are allowed to give the speeches on the podium. No tears of sadness shall be shed. Here' s the explanation for the date of funeral and the colours of clothing. I want my funeral to be one of the most beautiful "parties" , almost like a sweet sixteen party, only less expensive and boy crazy.
On the day of my funeral, I want to be remembered for the days that I lived, and the joy (if any) that I brought to the people I care about. It should be a happy day for everyone should celebrate the years I lived, and not the moment I became stiff. I want my death anniversary to be on 10th April, for I want it to be a joyous occasion where I celebrate my birthday, rather than my death.
Like mentioned earlier, that if authorities don't permit, then I'll have my funeral a fortnight or two after my death. Reason: It's simple. As said, my funeral shall not be a place of sadness, and I think a week or two would pretty much be enough for them to get over their grief of me being dead.
As for the dressing, black just brings all the mood down, so I need my guests to be in awesome colours.
The speeches shall not be more than two hours long, and when that's all over, I want beautiful music to be playing, preferably Jazz and the Oldies. I don't want any sad songs played because it always brings back sad memories, and I wish not to have tears, mucus or loud sobs on my funeral day.
Food has to be awesome as usual, and I wouldn't mind having a couple of drinks around for the guests. But those who go beyond the limit and get drunk, would be booted out of my funeral tent, even if that means my family. I don't want some drunk to come and crash my funeral, and don't think I'm not watching, cause' I am!
Now all this sounds pretty much awesome to me, but I actually left out the time for my funeral. It has to be during Dawn because it brings light to a whole new day.
The moment the Sun rises, marks the end of the whole 'party'. Guest are then required write notes they wished to send to me and attach them to beautiful coloured balloons of all shapes and sizes (I want to remember all of you forever and always). But don't release them just yet. For my ashes need to be placed into this huge balloon and together, all the balloons shall be released at the same time. I'll read them once the notes and the ashes are brought up to me through the stars.
And when I'm all done, I'll pop the balloons so that my ashes are scattered all around the world, together with my notes.
I am no pro when in comes to blogging, but I for one feel that those who blog about their personal grieves, are the emptiest of the lot. Not only am I pointing to those who blog, but also to those who whine (pretty ironic, since I'm the one with the whiney URL) about their lives.
You see, we often assume that Life is about suffering. We are so engrossed in trying to gain fame and wealth in order to survive, that we pretty much lose sight of the main goal, in other words, forgetting what we were here for.
So why are we fighting so hard to survive? It's because we want to live in comfort, being able to witness all the wondrous things around us, that makes us not only tolerate the hardship, but to enjoy Life as well.
Life isn't about the fame, the fortune nor the knowledge. It is the ability to use these 'tools' to make our lives better, to make the people around us happier, and to make the world a better place for all of us.
Working and even studying without a purpose, is like laying in your coffin, waiting for death to leech the life out of you. Why wait to for death to arrive miserably when you can fill the numbered (just that we are not sure of the numbers yet) days with enriching, enlightening and wonderful thoughts and activities?
No man should be judged by his wealth or knowledge, but how he is able to hide his misery from the world with a simple weapon; his smile. It's people like him that I look up to, and wonder whether he can teach me a lesson or two about Life.
'Happiness' can not be bought, nor can it be sold. No books, websites or any other resources can teach you about happiness. They can share scenarios and stories where people experience happiness. But nothing can teach you how to achieve happiness.
So how do you gain happiness? Well, it all depends on yourself. The joy you feel when you achieve something, the emptiness inside when you're alone, fear and heartbreak alike, are part and parcel to your steps towards happiness. Happiness is found deep within your soul. And it's only when you are able to find the strength to overcome your 'issues' then you will find happiness.
It is often said that 'Life is too short', but scratch that, for Life is the longest stretch of days, hours, minutes and seconds that I know of. So don't be afraid to stand up to what you believe in. Your life is your own, and it shouldn't be mapped out by others.
Your rule, your game, your time.
As easy as it may sound, happiness is not going to willingly fall into your arms. So search within yourself and find a truer, deeper meaning to your Life.
When my family and I first shifted into this home a few years (more like 7 years ago), we thought we found the perfect house. It had the cozy, gloomy but comfy look. It was near the MRT station and bus-stop. There were fast food outlets nearby, and a food court too. There is a 7-11 and two supermarkets that were 24 hours open. And there is even a 24 hour clinic just a block away from my home, and two (or was it three?) clinics nearby. There is also a Cash Converter now.
It was like a dream come true. A perfect place for lazybums like my brothers and I.
But as soon as we shifted in, we realized that we were in for a roller coaster ride. To begin with, the previous family spilled their cat food all over the cabinets in the kitchen. It smelled like vomit, and to make it worst, there was cat pee all over. Such imbeciles I tell you.
But that wasn't the worst part.
After all tedious cleaning and shifting in was over, we had a 'House Warming' ceremony. It was pretty cool, and many of the neighbours popped by to welcome us. We thought we would pretty much blend in with the crowd.
But we were wrong. Because the next day, we got to meet our nightmare, the neighbours that were staying opposite my home (literally opposite. The 'open your door and you see nothing but their door' kind).
It was in the morning, and having parents that believe that 'opening windows and doors in the morning brings in 'Good Luck'', we had our door open. Only to be greeted with the neighbour doing the same thing. My mum was in a perky mood, and being a mannered person that she was, she greeted the neighbour, only to have the door slammed right in front of her face.
Oh, and did I mention that she's not alone? She's an elderly lady, with a husband and three kids, a son and two daughters. And she used to have a dog too, but I think she killed it. It used to be barking like mad, but one day, it just wasn't barking anymore...
My neighbour's ill manners doesn't stop here.
She covers her nose with her handkerchief or a piece of tissue whenever she passes by my home to head to the lift. At first we thought that it was the joss sticks that my dad puts whenever he does his prayers, but we soon realize that she does it even when she walks past us. It was really hurtful at first, but we can't really be bothered anymore. Her daughters and son used to be like that too.
They'd also leave the lifts if we happened to enter the same one as them. And splashing water near our door is liek an everyday thing already...
I thought their crazy psychotic evillness ran in the blood, but I was wrong, because one day, I met that old woman's husband. And man, was he normal and nice! He was actually sick and tired of his family for being such 'negative' people.
He was a pretty awesome man, compared to his rotten family. He always went for walks. And everytime he talked to my mum, the old lady would be standing at the window, "spying" on them. Then she'll start screaming and shouting at the poor old man.
But one day, he died. And no one actually knew what happened. Just like the dog they had.
Things after his death was pretty much, worst. There was this one time when they called monks (I have no idea whether the monks were 'Good or Bad'. Just read the later part). They had this ceremony at their home, and after it was all done, my dad saw the monks chanting at our door! It was pretty crazy and so we called the police.
Needless to say, the police told us that the police had received a number of complaints from this family. And adding that the old woman, had a history of mental illness.
What about her kids? We didn't really bother asking, but we were all quick on our feet, ready for anything that she might do to us.
Now, the hocus pocus chants and prayers didn't really stop. There were days when one of my kin wanted to commit suicide so badly. He was crying, and it was obvious that he was in pain. We did the "bomoh" stuff and actually found 'something' in one of my mum's potted plants. It was said that it was placed there by that old woman because she hated my dad so badly and wanted him dead.
After the ritual and seeing that we were all very much alive (that kin of mind was much better), the son surprisingly became a monk, and the daughters lightened up, sometimes even greeting us (depending on their mood).
But the nasty old lady has been even more bad mannered than she was back then. Then was a couple of times when surveyors/people asking for donations/random people who knocked on her home door. They had this really weird thing about opening their doors to strangers. But there was this time where this surveyor didn't stop knocking on the old woman's door. And boy was she frustrated!
She yelled at him, more like screamed at him for disturbing her. "Are you stupid? I didn't open my door means I don't want to entertain you right! Why you keep knocking? Are you blind? What if I'm not in, will you keep knocking till I come home? What if there is a baby inside (such a liar) ?!? You are disturbing us!"
And before the poor man could respond to any of her questions, she lashed out her arm before screeching a "GET LOST" at him.
The poor man was dumbfounded but luckily he managed to recover quickly, scurrying off before she could get a broom or something to throw at him.
And there was this other time, which happened last year, where a group of people, around her age, came knocking on her door. She was clearly at home, because I saw her at her door a few minutes ago. But she was indeed hiding from them.
After knocking on her door for a good 15 minutes, they decided to head home, only to see my curious mum watering her plants. Apparently, they were from this Buddhist association and the old woman only recently changed her religion to Christianity (I think). They came by to ask her for the reasons for the sudden change, but decided to ditch the idea since she was hiding from them. And they admitted that they didn't like her anyways, so no lost. Hahah!
And an older lady used to pop by her home every few days. She was, I found out, the old lady's mum. And it only happened recently, that the old lady decided to ditch her mum by locking her out of the house! Such a bitch. The older lady was in tears and begged us to allow her in so that she could call home. She seemed nice, and I seriously wonder how she got such a idiotic daughter. From that day, she never visited her daughter again.
Despite all these happening, and it being a few years already, the family still does slam their door at us sometimes. And it was only yesterday, when I was returning home from a trip out, that the old lady was on her way back too. So there I was, trying to fit the key into the lock, and there she was, walking towards my home (in order to reach her home). I decided to annoy her by taking my time, and I wanted to see what she'll do. And unsurprisingly, she waited a good 10 feet away from my home, till I entered my house, before rushing to hers. Wah lao!
I know that if you were me or my family, most of you would go find another home. But having to tolerate her for so many years already, I'm pretty used to it. In fact, I find it amusing that she does all this. And I find ways to annoy her even more.
It's crazy neighbours like her that make my Life so interesting. Hahah!
My brother just introduced this programme called "Def Jam Poetry" on Youtube. It's really interesting because it's about people who say put their opinions, truth, their lives and experiences in the form of poetry.
Here's the ones that I like alot. Enjoy!
Mc Lyte talks about her ups and downs in her Life and career.
Shihan - Sick and Tired
Love Poem
The Gift
Stinky Breath
This one is pretty funny.
Nothing is for Nothing
Well there are definitely more to see and hear. If you are interested, you can Click Here!
