P/S I am a huge Carolyn Bessette Kennedy fan and her wedding to John F Kennedy is my kind of fairy tale. They were gone definitely too soon.
Photos courtesy of Google
Sunday, December 30, 2012
This has always been my favorite wedding dress. I cannot stand ball gowns, cupcake dresses, anything big, poufy, strapless (I cannot emphasize enough how much I hate, detest, abhor strapless wedding dresses. It is so predictable) and this Narciso Rodriguez for Cerruti's design personifies my style and personality - streamlined, simple, sublime and understated.
P/S I am a huge Carolyn Bessette Kennedy fan and her wedding to John F Kennedy is my kind of fairy tale. They were gone definitely too soon.
Photos courtesy of Google
P/S I am a huge Carolyn Bessette Kennedy fan and her wedding to John F Kennedy is my kind of fairy tale. They were gone definitely too soon.
Photos courtesy of Google
in event of moon disaster
I love this draft speech that was intended to be read by President Richard Nixon in the event that Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were stranded on the moon in their Apollo 11 mission. Absolutely well written and beautiful.
"Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace.
These brave men, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin, know that there is no hope for their recovery. But they also know that there is hope for mankind in their sacrifice.
These two men are laying down their lives in mankind's most noble goal: the search for truth and understanding.
They will be mourned by their families and friends; they will be mourned by their nation; they will be mourned by the people of the world; they will be mourned by a Mother Earth that dared send two of her sons into the unknown.
In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to feel as one; in their sacrifice, they bind more tightly the brotherhood of man.
In ancient days, men looked at stars and saw their heroes in the constellations. In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes are epic men of flesh and blood.
Others will follow, and surely find their way home. Man's search will not be denied. But these men were the first, and they will remain the foremost in our hearts.
For every human being who looks up at the moon in the nights to come will know that there is some corner of another world that is forever mankind."
Friday, December 28, 2012
...you and I, caught in a fading light...
There are few things
in life sadder than unrequited love. Death of the physical body is inevitable,
even promised but death of love is often unexpected and premature. Continuing
to love someone who can no longer love you back is an experience one always remembers
mostly for the mixture of raw emotions, pure grief and pain that the entire
ordeal brings. How do you stop loving someone? Is there a switch button in your
heart that you can turn off automatically and it somehow magically erases every
shared memory? How exactly do you move on? Do you disguise your true feelings
of desire and longing, bury your pain, pretend life will sort itself out? In
pretending, do you then convince, delude and lie to yourself into believing
that everything will be okay, everything will be alright?
How do
you find the answers to the questions your heart desperately seeks to find?
Where do you look for the answers? Who do you search for to fill up the empty
spaces and missing gaps in your weary soul?
Or maybe you are meant to find your own answers and charter the unknown territories of the world by yourself.
Depression and solitude is like an endless black hole - a vast and immeasurable space of darkness. Tonight, more than ever, I wish I could simply disappear into that infinite vacuum of unimaginable darkness.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
the walk home
Written by: AI (Guest blogger)
This is my first guest post for Bob is Bored. Being at an "interesting" point in my life, I have had ample time recently to reflect on past choices, good and bad, along with all the early morning revelations such reflection brings. I've tried to capture some of these sleepless epiphanies in writing below.
THE WALK HOME, THEN AND NOW
I remember going to agama class when I was a kid, during one of those not-so-frequent times I was actually:
a) in Malaysia; and
b) being a good little boy.
This may surprise some people who know me now, but I did go to agama class back then. You could say I went religiously. Anyhow, agama class was a weekly thing, down the road from our old house. This was back before our neighbourhood had modern conveniences like, you know, streetlights. Walking back home after class at night was a weekly test of my manlihood, which I usually failed. Something about the pitch-black road brought the night to life and sent me running home crying.
Two decades has passed, and I walked back down that road again tonight. It is still poorly lit, though nowhere near as bad as it was back then. I am happy to report that I did not run back home crying this time.
In a sense, we are all finding our way back home in the dark, but as time goes on, we learn to light our own ways. Some lights are bright, and some less so – but they are all our own, and they all lead back home.
This is my first guest post for Bob is Bored. Being at an "interesting" point in my life, I have had ample time recently to reflect on past choices, good and bad, along with all the early morning revelations such reflection brings. I've tried to capture some of these sleepless epiphanies in writing below.
THE WALK HOME, THEN AND NOW
I remember going to agama class when I was a kid, during one of those not-so-frequent times I was actually:
a) in Malaysia; and
b) being a good little boy.
This may surprise some people who know me now, but I did go to agama class back then. You could say I went religiously. Anyhow, agama class was a weekly thing, down the road from our old house. This was back before our neighbourhood had modern conveniences like, you know, streetlights. Walking back home after class at night was a weekly test of my manlihood, which I usually failed. Something about the pitch-black road brought the night to life and sent me running home crying.
Two decades has passed, and I walked back down that road again tonight. It is still poorly lit, though nowhere near as bad as it was back then. I am happy to report that I did not run back home crying this time.
In a sense, we are all finding our way back home in the dark, but as time goes on, we learn to light our own ways. Some lights are bright, and some less so – but they are all our own, and they all lead back home.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Will you marry me?
So apparently, I am set to be wedded end of next year. The boyfriend popped the question last night and I ran off crying, bemoaning the loss of single life. Even the sparkle of the diamond failed to inspire any kind of joy in me; I was despondent and catatonically devastated. It was as if I envisioned a lifetime of doom whereby I will be eternally bound by the shackles and chains of an institution called marriage. Say goodbye to freedom - the kind where you can wake up at 2 am in the morning and decide that you want to watch a chick flick. The kind where you return home after a grueling day at work and take a 2 hour nap before going out for dinner. Or the kind where you walk around the house naked. Or take a dump with the toilet doors opened.
It is the end of that kind of freedom.
And most certainly the beginning of responsibilities; conjugal duties, possible parental duties and other obligations that arise within the context of a marriage. I wonder if a bride goes through all these thoughts when she walks down the altar in her cupcake meringue dress? Does she shed tears of joy or sorrow?
I may sound flippant about the whole thing, sarcastic even but the honest truth is I have never been more afraid of anything. I love him in a way that is incomprehensible and I can't possibly imagine a life without him in it. But there is also another part of me that fears the unknown - the probabilities of pregnancy, the challenges of being with someone who does not share the same faith as you, the monotony of a daily shared life. I was praying at the temple a few days back (before I even knew about the proposal) and I distinctly remembered saying this "God, if I end up with "I", please, God do not let me abandon my own faith nor forsake everything that I believe in. Please do not allow me to lose myself".
I suppose it is only a natural progression of our relationship which has spanned over 3 1/2 years. I know the he has no doubts at all about getting married - after all he is a practicing Catholic who believes in the sanctity of holy matrimony. I, on the other hand, believe marriage to be nothing but a social institution, constructed by men for economic and financial benefits and other strategic reasons. Love can exist, with or without marriage. We are entirely 2 different people, he and myself; and I entered into the relationship not expecting it to last (being the true cynic that I was and am). But it somehow prevailed and here I am today, wondering if there is ever an easy answer to such a difficult, timeless and universal question.
It is the end of that kind of freedom.
And most certainly the beginning of responsibilities; conjugal duties, possible parental duties and other obligations that arise within the context of a marriage. I wonder if a bride goes through all these thoughts when she walks down the altar in her cupcake meringue dress? Does she shed tears of joy or sorrow?
I may sound flippant about the whole thing, sarcastic even but the honest truth is I have never been more afraid of anything. I love him in a way that is incomprehensible and I can't possibly imagine a life without him in it. But there is also another part of me that fears the unknown - the probabilities of pregnancy, the challenges of being with someone who does not share the same faith as you, the monotony of a daily shared life. I was praying at the temple a few days back (before I even knew about the proposal) and I distinctly remembered saying this "God, if I end up with "I", please, God do not let me abandon my own faith nor forsake everything that I believe in. Please do not allow me to lose myself".
I suppose it is only a natural progression of our relationship which has spanned over 3 1/2 years. I know the he has no doubts at all about getting married - after all he is a practicing Catholic who believes in the sanctity of holy matrimony. I, on the other hand, believe marriage to be nothing but a social institution, constructed by men for economic and financial benefits and other strategic reasons. Love can exist, with or without marriage. We are entirely 2 different people, he and myself; and I entered into the relationship not expecting it to last (being the true cynic that I was and am). But it somehow prevailed and here I am today, wondering if there is ever an easy answer to such a difficult, timeless and universal question.
Friday, December 21, 2012
woes...
I will be heading to Johor Premium Outlet tomorrow and while reviews have been by and large not very promising and unfavorable, I still hold on to the hope of scoring some cool bargains. I am mostly looking forward to visiting Ralph Lauren and Brooks Brothers - I desperately need more shirts in my closet, preferably shirts that do not require ironing before wear.
Shirts are a staple in my closet, especially for work, primarily due to it's functionality and practicality. As I live in Malaysia which is perpetually summer, I like to dress to beat the heat which omits lots of stuff like knits, sweaters, cardigans, blazers and coats. Combined the weather with a 20 minute walk from the train station to the office under the blazing, scorching heat of the unforgiving tropical sun, wearing anything other than cotton (and occasionally silk - if it has been raining) is not an option for me. My weekday uniform consists of shirts (in hues of blue and gray because wearing color on a weekday is tantamount to celebrating an occasion and work is definitely not something to cheer about) and pencil skirts with black or nude heels (and Birkenstocks, while in transit).
Having said that, I only have 3 shirts that I wear on a weekly basis - everything else languishes at the back of my closet simply because the fit is unforgiving or it was something I bought on a whim, but does not really correspond to my style, which is to dress more like a boy and less like a girl. So no frills or pink for me; stripes are fine but not mandatory. I am not too fussed about collars - they can be stiff or soft.
I am envious of girls with extensive wardrobes, they never have to repeat their clothes. Their wardrobes are like Doeraemon's pocket - bottomless! How these girls can afford to buy so many clothes is something I will never comprehend so let us not even go there. Nevertheless, tomorrow's shopping list includes:
These may seem like pared down, basic items but I find that basic items are the absolute hardest to find. All the shops in town are bursting with trendy clothes that do not suit my lifestyle (peplum, sequins, studs, neon) and as much as I love to shop, I sometimes really hate the experience of not being able to find things that you love and will last a long time.
Shirts are a staple in my closet, especially for work, primarily due to it's functionality and practicality. As I live in Malaysia which is perpetually summer, I like to dress to beat the heat which omits lots of stuff like knits, sweaters, cardigans, blazers and coats. Combined the weather with a 20 minute walk from the train station to the office under the blazing, scorching heat of the unforgiving tropical sun, wearing anything other than cotton (and occasionally silk - if it has been raining) is not an option for me. My weekday uniform consists of shirts (in hues of blue and gray because wearing color on a weekday is tantamount to celebrating an occasion and work is definitely not something to cheer about) and pencil skirts with black or nude heels (and Birkenstocks, while in transit).
Having said that, I only have 3 shirts that I wear on a weekly basis - everything else languishes at the back of my closet simply because the fit is unforgiving or it was something I bought on a whim, but does not really correspond to my style, which is to dress more like a boy and less like a girl. So no frills or pink for me; stripes are fine but not mandatory. I am not too fussed about collars - they can be stiff or soft.
I am envious of girls with extensive wardrobes, they never have to repeat their clothes. Their wardrobes are like Doeraemon's pocket - bottomless! How these girls can afford to buy so many clothes is something I will never comprehend so let us not even go there. Nevertheless, tomorrow's shopping list includes:
- 2 cotton shirts
- 1 streamlined work dress in gray
- 1 blouse in silk or viscose
These may seem like pared down, basic items but I find that basic items are the absolute hardest to find. All the shops in town are bursting with trendy clothes that do not suit my lifestyle (peplum, sequins, studs, neon) and as much as I love to shop, I sometimes really hate the experience of not being able to find things that you love and will last a long time.
Monday, December 10, 2012
why am i here?
There was a massive thunderstorm in KL on Friday at about 5.30pm, right about the time where office workers (slaves disguised in formal attire) leave their cubicles (prisons) for the weekend. I walked under the pouring rain, threatening skies and not once did I feel apprehension or fear. On the contrary, I felt liberated. As though all men are trully equal (and not just in theory), and none of us are exempt from nature's cruel ways.
Sometimes I wish the world would end already. I am tired of pretending to be hopeful, I am tired of trying but always failing, I am tired of injustice which exists in all forms, I am tired of misfortune, I am tired of chasing after the mythical pot of gold, I am tired of even purely existing.
There is no meaning, there never will be.
Sometimes I wish the world would end already. I am tired of pretending to be hopeful, I am tired of trying but always failing, I am tired of injustice which exists in all forms, I am tired of misfortune, I am tired of chasing after the mythical pot of gold, I am tired of even purely existing.
There is no meaning, there never will be.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Tweet Meet...
Follow me on Twitter (twitter.com/mlooi)!
I have created the above to fuel my ADD tendencies and to update people who are interested on the latest happenings in my life (which is limited to eating, shopping and occasionally, reading).
I have created the above to fuel my ADD tendencies and to update people who are interested on the latest happenings in my life (which is limited to eating, shopping and occasionally, reading).
my current favorite author
I am currently reading Tan Twan Eng's second novel The Garden of Evening Mists, which was short-listed for the Booker Prize and he continues to impress me with his evocative writings on colonial Malaysia. Based on the two novels that he has written, I sense that he truly understands Malaysian history and culture, which is rich, multi-faceted and often, complex, on a profound level that only a native possibly can. I have fallen off the reading bandwagon for a while now, having found no books that resonated deeply with me. Haruki Murakami who was previously my favorite author disappointed me with his last offering, IQ84 which was thick and massive in size, but surprisingly boring, unlike his other works (i.e. Kafka on The Shore, Sputnik Sweetheart, Norwegian Wood). I am glad Tan Twan Eng brought me back to reading books and I wish he would receive the attention and recognition that he highly deserves.
Apparently, the Managing Director for IMF, Christine Lagarde quoted him in her speech at the National Bank of Malaysia (Bank Negara), "Just as in Europe, our interconnected world calls for new approaches in this region too. As the young Malaysian novelist Tan Twan Eng put it, “Moments in time when the world is changing bring out the best and the worst in people”. May we always choose the best!"
This is what I call by having it made. Having your words quoted by prominent, significant, important global leaders in the international stage. This to me marks true and enduring success.
But of course, Malaysians are severely shallow and superficial. While we may know names like Deborah Henry, Michelle Yeoh or Marion Rose Caunter, our Malaysian authors go largely unnoticed and ignored, which is ironic, because they are probably more popular overseas than in their own birth nation. Which is just a big bag of shame. We revere, reward and celebrate beauty queens simply for winning the genetic lottery but an author who spends 1-2 years of his life writing in oblivion, gets merely a byline or if they are lucky, a half page article in the newspaper.
Anyway, the author will be in Penang on 24 November 2012 and I am so tempted to make a trip up north if it isn't for a tiny nuisance called work. I would probably behave like a bumbling idiot if I ever do meet him but there are so many burning questions that I am just dying to ask him.
Monday, November 12, 2012
buying shit I don't need
I spent my weekend like the rest of the girls in Klang Valley exercising my wallet in the new H & M outlet at Bukit Bintang. My boyfriend kicked up a storm when I spent 45 minutes selecting, trying on and buying clothes that I probably don't really need but want, anyway. Next time, I shall leave the boyfriend at home and go shopping on my own so that he doesn't nag me over my compulsive shopping habits. He has been trying to get me to invest, grow my money and generate passive income but that has not been successful thus far. I keep telling myself "I will get a part time job, I will get a part time job" but this has yet to happen. I blame it on my amazing ability to procrastinate and do nothing while silently wishing money will just magically appear on my lap.
The thing about being female in today's beauty driven and image conscious society is the endless pressure to look good whatever the costs may be. It is not enough to be smart with a highly functioning brain (neither of which I possess but I digress), it is also expected that one has to be attractive. Looking good is not magic, nor does it come cheap, all girls will tell you that. This is the part that guys just cannot seem to comprehend. Somehow, they are on the mistaken assumption that all girls wake up looking naturally beautiful - now this is an utter fallacy. It requires effort, time and money (lots of money. Makeup and nice clothes do not cost next to nothing). Of course it helps tremendously if one inherits great genes (by way of a cellulite-free ass; lush, full breasts; slender, long legs; narrow waist and soft, long hair) but I would say 95% of the female population do not have genetics on their side. We are flawed, imperfect and most of us are far from the idealized version of female beauty.
In our desire to attain physical beauty, we jog, run, swim to keep our bodies relatively fat free. We slap on make-up to cover blemishes in our scarred faces, we wear clothes that hide our flaws and go on expensive, extensive, invasive surgeries to change, alter and transform a physical part we deem to be "ugly". All in the glorious name of beauty, whose very concept is so abstract and subjective that there is no correct definition of what "beauty" should be.
We emphasize so much on looking good that we often forget to nurture what's inside. I know I am definitely guilty of this. Sometimes I look at the clothes and things I have hoarded over the years and think to myself, these are just things. At the end of the day, these things are worthless (except gold of course that never loses it's glitter, shine and value). If anything, I am contributing even more to the decline of the environment (i.e. waste), helping unethical businesses thrive and indirectly supporting child labor. We all go to great lengths to achieve the unattainable standards of beauty, without thinking of the disastrous consequences or the impact our spending behavior has on others.
Striving to become a responsible consumer has been on my "to do" list for a while now. It is hard not to buy stuff especially if you live in a concrete jungle that prides itself for being a shopping paradise. I guess I should try anyhow, to resist the temptation of walking around aimlessly in shopping malls and maybe do productive, life changing stuff (i.e. write a novel). Of course, the lure of fast fashion will always be there. There will be a part of me that will continuously desire something new/fashionable/trendy. But maybe if I buy clothes that are not merely trendy, but timeless and long lasting, I will be able to escape the evil trappings of consumerism.
The thing about being female in today's beauty driven and image conscious society is the endless pressure to look good whatever the costs may be. It is not enough to be smart with a highly functioning brain (neither of which I possess but I digress), it is also expected that one has to be attractive. Looking good is not magic, nor does it come cheap, all girls will tell you that. This is the part that guys just cannot seem to comprehend. Somehow, they are on the mistaken assumption that all girls wake up looking naturally beautiful - now this is an utter fallacy. It requires effort, time and money (lots of money. Makeup and nice clothes do not cost next to nothing). Of course it helps tremendously if one inherits great genes (by way of a cellulite-free ass; lush, full breasts; slender, long legs; narrow waist and soft, long hair) but I would say 95% of the female population do not have genetics on their side. We are flawed, imperfect and most of us are far from the idealized version of female beauty.
In our desire to attain physical beauty, we jog, run, swim to keep our bodies relatively fat free. We slap on make-up to cover blemishes in our scarred faces, we wear clothes that hide our flaws and go on expensive, extensive, invasive surgeries to change, alter and transform a physical part we deem to be "ugly". All in the glorious name of beauty, whose very concept is so abstract and subjective that there is no correct definition of what "beauty" should be.
We emphasize so much on looking good that we often forget to nurture what's inside. I know I am definitely guilty of this. Sometimes I look at the clothes and things I have hoarded over the years and think to myself, these are just things. At the end of the day, these things are worthless (except gold of course that never loses it's glitter, shine and value). If anything, I am contributing even more to the decline of the environment (i.e. waste), helping unethical businesses thrive and indirectly supporting child labor. We all go to great lengths to achieve the unattainable standards of beauty, without thinking of the disastrous consequences or the impact our spending behavior has on others.
Striving to become a responsible consumer has been on my "to do" list for a while now. It is hard not to buy stuff especially if you live in a concrete jungle that prides itself for being a shopping paradise. I guess I should try anyhow, to resist the temptation of walking around aimlessly in shopping malls and maybe do productive, life changing stuff (i.e. write a novel). Of course, the lure of fast fashion will always be there. There will be a part of me that will continuously desire something new/fashionable/trendy. But maybe if I buy clothes that are not merely trendy, but timeless and long lasting, I will be able to escape the evil trappings of consumerism.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
emo nemo
Life feels almost insurmountable at times, with it's endless challenges, persistent obstacles and especially the injustice that permeates the unfortunate souls who despite their best intentions, are never able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Life feels a lot less like a journey these days and more of a battle, like a prolonged, extended battle with no definite victory in sight. From a religious perspective, everything on earth is merely temporary, it is what's there in the after life that matters. I suppose that gives comfort to people and I wish it gives comfort to me, but it doesn't. I accept that life is meant to be difficult, that we are bound to suffer in great degrees for an indefinite amount of time, but it seems to me that certain people are exempted from this, by virtues of great fortune and luck. I guess what bothers me most is the injustice of nature - how flawed the whole premise is.
I am too stupid and inarticulate to write about deep things, like philosophy, religion and the meaning of existence (if there even is a meaning for it). I honestly wonder if life is just a sequence of random, meaningless events and we are all merely victims (or victors) of circumstances.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Sunday musings...
Sunday is ending and Monday is looming upon us, once again. Sadness is an understatement, I am utterly inconsolable. I guess I should be looking at the bright side of life - what goes around, comes around therefore before I know it, the weekend will be here soon (of course after five agonizing days of waking up at 7am, hustling in and out of the hectic, polluted city looking wild eyed, feeling grouchy and angry). Such is the modern life, synonoymous with horrible traffic jams, long commutes, extended hours at work, disgusting, processed fast food and cellulite.
I woke up at 7.30am today to trek a jungle (okay, maybe less of a jungle and more of a park) in my valiant efforts to fight cellulite. I think cellulite is the repercussion of having a desk job whereby your ass is continuously glued on the chair for 10 hours daily. This is why I maintain that having a full time job not only erodes your soul, but leaves you with physical scars. Obesity and increased weight gain are side effects of having a full time job. Our bodies are weary from extensive sitting. I swear our ancestors from the stone ages did not have cellulite nor were they fat because they were constantly on their feet, running away from predators or hunting for food to ensure survival. How did humans evolve to this? From hard, menial labour, exhuasting our physical bodies under the sun to sitting in an artificially cold cubicle, dressed in our finest, doing monotonous paper work, pretending to be important and significant?
Anyway, I read Tan Twan Eng's Gift of Rain over the Merdeka weekend and it was trully engrossing. He paints Penang in a beautiful light with his skillful lyrical poetry, and he did justice to the history of the island during the insufferable Japanese occupation. I loved the complex relationships between the characters in the book and the description of colonial Penang depicted so accurately in the book. How the British administration and it's people just fled, without any sense of responsibility towards their subjects and how the locals were abandoned to fight (and die) for themselves against an enemy they did not know. The documentary 1941: The Fall of Penang also showed this to be a fact, that our colonial masters did indeed flee.
Which is why Independence was so important to them, as it is important to us now. The locals no longer wanted to be oppressed under foreign rule, they wanted to be free. To create the fate of their own nation, without the inteference of foreign powers who only wanted to take advantage of our natural resources. We all know by now, how Malaysia was formed and the struggles that Tunku and his team endured to achieve the nation's collective dream. So here we are 55 years later, still developing, growing, progressing towards a brighter future we all hope to share. It is apt that I write this now, as the General Elections are set to take place in the next couple of months. May the powers that be rule our nation fairly and just and let them not be consumed by personal gain and greed, if only to preserve (and not corrupt) the memories of our forefathers who fought for the nation's freedom.
I woke up at 7.30am today to trek a jungle (okay, maybe less of a jungle and more of a park) in my valiant efforts to fight cellulite. I think cellulite is the repercussion of having a desk job whereby your ass is continuously glued on the chair for 10 hours daily. This is why I maintain that having a full time job not only erodes your soul, but leaves you with physical scars. Obesity and increased weight gain are side effects of having a full time job. Our bodies are weary from extensive sitting. I swear our ancestors from the stone ages did not have cellulite nor were they fat because they were constantly on their feet, running away from predators or hunting for food to ensure survival. How did humans evolve to this? From hard, menial labour, exhuasting our physical bodies under the sun to sitting in an artificially cold cubicle, dressed in our finest, doing monotonous paper work, pretending to be important and significant?
Anyway, I read Tan Twan Eng's Gift of Rain over the Merdeka weekend and it was trully engrossing. He paints Penang in a beautiful light with his skillful lyrical poetry, and he did justice to the history of the island during the insufferable Japanese occupation. I loved the complex relationships between the characters in the book and the description of colonial Penang depicted so accurately in the book. How the British administration and it's people just fled, without any sense of responsibility towards their subjects and how the locals were abandoned to fight (and die) for themselves against an enemy they did not know. The documentary 1941: The Fall of Penang also showed this to be a fact, that our colonial masters did indeed flee.
Which is why Independence was so important to them, as it is important to us now. The locals no longer wanted to be oppressed under foreign rule, they wanted to be free. To create the fate of their own nation, without the inteference of foreign powers who only wanted to take advantage of our natural resources. We all know by now, how Malaysia was formed and the struggles that Tunku and his team endured to achieve the nation's collective dream. So here we are 55 years later, still developing, growing, progressing towards a brighter future we all hope to share. It is apt that I write this now, as the General Elections are set to take place in the next couple of months. May the powers that be rule our nation fairly and just and let them not be consumed by personal gain and greed, if only to preserve (and not corrupt) the memories of our forefathers who fought for the nation's freedom.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Food Foundry
I was at Food Foundry in PJ a couple of weeks back. Nice decor with great food and awesome mille crepe! But of course the prices are rather steep so be prepared for that.
I will be doing a write up on Merdeka soon. In the meantime, Happy Birthday Malaysia! Hope you get hotter as you grow older. May your citizens flourish and succeed always :-)!
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Find your greatness...?
Thank you, readers, for reading my humble blog. I am not particularly good in writing (and this is said with sincerity, I am certainly not fishing for compliments or assurance), but I try my best. After all English Literature was my best subject in school (followed by History which explains my fascination with events of the past) and writing was my passion. At one point, I even believed it to be my destiny. I dreamed many nights away that one day, I would live in Manhattan and I would write life changing stuff, inspiring an entire generation to make the world a better place.
I am not too sure what shattered my hope and dreams. Maybe as you grow older, you stop having faith in yourself, that you are capable of great things because you no longer have time on your side. When you are 16, the whole world is at your feet. Life is full of infinite possibilities. When you are 28...not so much. You wonder what you have done the past 10 years, how life had come to this - this dark, dismal tunnel of disappointment where each day is a carbon copy of the day before. The mundane brutality of everyday life in the city all in the name of survival. Thousands of people converging to the city, to their respective office cubicles, deluding themselves that their jobs are important, gives them dignity, self worth when all it does is to erode their soul even further. I strongly believe office cubicles are places where dreams, real dreams come to die.
Apologies for deviating so far away from what I intended to say. I am truly appreciative of the time that you take to read my wannabe philosophical ramblings and I am even more grateful to those of you that comment with insightful remarks. It is not easy to be an interesting blogger when you do not have an interesting life, much like myself. People are attracted to beautiful photos of beautiful people and locations. I am just another Malaysian, attempting to colour my life and erase my dark and bleak reality. But I guess the only thing that keeps me blogging is my strong interest and passion for the written word, however inadequate I may be and the knowledge that someone out there identifies with my struggles and fears of being merely ordinary, never achieving any kind of greatness. This itself makes me feel a little less lonely.
I am not too sure what shattered my hope and dreams. Maybe as you grow older, you stop having faith in yourself, that you are capable of great things because you no longer have time on your side. When you are 16, the whole world is at your feet. Life is full of infinite possibilities. When you are 28...not so much. You wonder what you have done the past 10 years, how life had come to this - this dark, dismal tunnel of disappointment where each day is a carbon copy of the day before. The mundane brutality of everyday life in the city all in the name of survival. Thousands of people converging to the city, to their respective office cubicles, deluding themselves that their jobs are important, gives them dignity, self worth when all it does is to erode their soul even further. I strongly believe office cubicles are places where dreams, real dreams come to die.
Apologies for deviating so far away from what I intended to say. I am truly appreciative of the time that you take to read my wannabe philosophical ramblings and I am even more grateful to those of you that comment with insightful remarks. It is not easy to be an interesting blogger when you do not have an interesting life, much like myself. People are attracted to beautiful photos of beautiful people and locations. I am just another Malaysian, attempting to colour my life and erase my dark and bleak reality. But I guess the only thing that keeps me blogging is my strong interest and passion for the written word, however inadequate I may be and the knowledge that someone out there identifies with my struggles and fears of being merely ordinary, never achieving any kind of greatness. This itself makes me feel a little less lonely.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Malaysia Boleh: Redux
I have been discontented with Malaysia for a while now, losing hope and faith in my country of origin until the 2012 Olympic Games kicked in. Having witnessed Lee Chong Wei and Pandelela Rinong's recent performances in the Games, I was completely blown away by their spirit of sportsmanship and loyalty to our nation. The thing that impressed me most about these two athletes, notwithstanding the fact that they won medals, is their humility, attitude and courage. Diving into 16 feet deep pool while doing acrobatic stunts mid air is something I could never possibly do in this life, and at 19 years old, Pandelela from small town Bau, Sarawak did just that and has a medal to show for it as well. She defeated worthy opponents from developed nations such as Australia, Germany and Canada to win a bronze medal at the Olympics, the biggest sporting event in the world. How is that for awesome and respect?
And Chong Wei, from sleepy town Bukit Mertajam, with the pressure of the nation on his shoulders to deliver the nation's first gold demonstrating grace in the face of defeat at the hands of arch nemesis Lin Dan. For that one moment at approximately 9.30pm Malaysian time, he successfully managed to both win and lose at the same time. He won the hearts of all Malaysians across the world but lost the gold medal he had hoped and worked so hard for.
I suppose that is the harsh reality of the sports industry. Just as there are winners, there are bound to be losers. Only of course, he was not. None of our Malaysian contingent at the Summer Olympics are losers really, despite not wining anything. Malaysia is a country of 28 million, relatively small compared to the giants like China and America. With higher budgets, better resources and infrastrcuture, I have no doubts we can do better at Rio in 4 years' time. To me, what's more important than winning medals, is playing the game to the best of your ability, never giving up, showing resilience, quiet strength and humility. God knows Malaysia has too many arrogant, talentless, pretentious hacks running around Kuala Lumpur with Nikkon around their necks and Converses on their feet pretending to be cool and accomplished when their only claim to fame is playing guitar in some pseudo indie band.
And Chong Wei, from sleepy town Bukit Mertajam, with the pressure of the nation on his shoulders to deliver the nation's first gold demonstrating grace in the face of defeat at the hands of arch nemesis Lin Dan. For that one moment at approximately 9.30pm Malaysian time, he successfully managed to both win and lose at the same time. He won the hearts of all Malaysians across the world but lost the gold medal he had hoped and worked so hard for.
I suppose that is the harsh reality of the sports industry. Just as there are winners, there are bound to be losers. Only of course, he was not. None of our Malaysian contingent at the Summer Olympics are losers really, despite not wining anything. Malaysia is a country of 28 million, relatively small compared to the giants like China and America. With higher budgets, better resources and infrastrcuture, I have no doubts we can do better at Rio in 4 years' time. To me, what's more important than winning medals, is playing the game to the best of your ability, never giving up, showing resilience, quiet strength and humility. God knows Malaysia has too many arrogant, talentless, pretentious hacks running around Kuala Lumpur with Nikkon around their necks and Converses on their feet pretending to be cool and accomplished when their only claim to fame is playing guitar in some pseudo indie band.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Malaysia Boleh!
Tomorrow, Malaysia's Lee Chong Wei will be playing against China's Lin Dan in the Olympics badminton final (men's single). Our nation will be united, more than ever in our common quest for gold - the first for Malaysia since the inception of the Games. I can already feel the excitement in the air across every street in the country and I know tomorrow will be an emotionally charged night for every true Malaysian. Let us put our differences aside for one night, let us forget about race, religion, politics, rising crime rates and housing prices - for tomorrow, we are all on equal ground with only one goal in mind - gold and glory for our nation.
Where will you be tomorrow night 8pm Malaysian time? Make no mistakes where I will be - in front of the television cheering on for my country.
Where will you be tomorrow night 8pm Malaysian time? Make no mistakes where I will be - in front of the television cheering on for my country.
Friday, August 3, 2012
post dated 23 February 2007
I had exactly One Hundred and Forty posts on my now defunct blog. For the past three years, it was my coping mechanism - the blog saw me through many broken friendships, one unrequited crush and several other failings in life. As much as it pains me to whine on my own blog no less, I was hurt, for the longest time. I questioned my diminishing faith in God and concluded that God was merely an inactive observer whose presence (or absence) is irrelevant. I acquired a whole new wardrobe, in hopes that beautiful dresses and smart shirts would fill up the missing gaps in my life. It did, for a while, whenever I pranced around in something new and shiny, I felt on top of the world until someone even more stunning came around. I tried reading 19th century literature only to almost never finish them, I watched hundreds of DVDs thinking that I will learn from characters in movies, I listened to songs with melodies so melancholy and lyrics so awfully sad, I felt even worse than before.
Eventually I recovered. The retail therapy (but of course!) continued but I stopped blaming the rest of the world and it's 6 billion population for all of my woes. I accepted things for what they were and came to understand that most of the unfortunate events in this universe were beyond anyone's control. Bad things happen to good people and vice versa. Pain and suffering do not discriminate and we are all at Nature's mercy. Somewhere along the way, I grew a conscience and compassion; I tried to treat all men with the respect they probably deserve and started to be nicer towards my fellow humankind. Of course, my efforts were often thwarted, instead of appreciating my kind words and genuine concern, I was blatantly ignored in favour of other people who were not as forebearing as I was but who were prettier, richer and definitely more successful. I think I was like this annoying bad tooth that would never leave.
Anyway I deleted the fucking blog. I do not want to have any kind of reminder on the person I once was, so eager to please and desperate for acknowledgement. I am a changed person today, not quite sophisticated enough to be completely emotionless and cold hearted, but definitely more indifferent. It's okay if they hate my shoes, think I'm a disgust to society or if they just don't like me, I no longer care. At some point, you give up and live only for yourself.
Eventually I recovered. The retail therapy (but of course!) continued but I stopped blaming the rest of the world and it's 6 billion population for all of my woes. I accepted things for what they were and came to understand that most of the unfortunate events in this universe were beyond anyone's control. Bad things happen to good people and vice versa. Pain and suffering do not discriminate and we are all at Nature's mercy. Somewhere along the way, I grew a conscience and compassion; I tried to treat all men with the respect they probably deserve and started to be nicer towards my fellow humankind. Of course, my efforts were often thwarted, instead of appreciating my kind words and genuine concern, I was blatantly ignored in favour of other people who were not as forebearing as I was but who were prettier, richer and definitely more successful. I think I was like this annoying bad tooth that would never leave.
Anyway I deleted the fucking blog. I do not want to have any kind of reminder on the person I once was, so eager to please and desperate for acknowledgement. I am a changed person today, not quite sophisticated enough to be completely emotionless and cold hearted, but definitely more indifferent. It's okay if they hate my shoes, think I'm a disgust to society or if they just don't like me, I no longer care. At some point, you give up and live only for yourself.
Monday, July 30, 2012
syiok sendiri KL: It's Alive
There is this video entitled "KL: It's Alive" that has gone somewhat viral on Facebook and You Tube. Watch it here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FF-Q1lCToiI. It depicts KL as a vibrant city with quirky boutiques, quaint little cafes, people in Vespas, cycling at wee hours in the morning and other activities that hipsters usually indulge in. I must have been living in another planet all this while because for all the years that I have been staying in KL, I have never come across a Vespa much less a group of people in their Vespas.
I am very surprised that a lot of people have given their seal of approval on the video with some even suggesting that this should be the tourism advertisement for the nation. Is this really how we want to present KL, the capital of Malaysia, the pride and joy of our country to the entire world? A hedonistic society exhibiting self importance and pretension, a frivolous city devoid of culture and heritage. Are we so obsessed with the Western culture that we only seek to imitate? Even the people featured in the video (i.e. coffee joint owner, fashion designer, indie singer) spoke with a pseudo American accent which should not come across as a surprise. I mean, the entire video reeks of unoriginality. It is an ostentatious display of the lifestyles of the rich and famous. It is out of touch with reality and could not possibly resonate with the average Malaysian. Perhaps the video was not intended to reflect the "real" KL with it's filthy streets, horrendous traffic, scorching heat and torrential downpour. It is "their" (hipsters, rich and famous, Western wannabes) version of KL in all it's grandiose, glamour and glory. After all, the video was produced by Mercedes Benz; a symbol of wealth and affluence in an increasingly money driven Malaysia.
If you want a more accurate potrayal of KL, I suggest this video entitled "The Chair Project". Watch it here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8ZwBr0e67w. It may not have garnered as many hits as "KL: It's Alive" but to me, this video has heart and soul, attributes which were sorely lacking in "KL: It's Alive". The Chair Project features the efforts of 2 Malaysians who built chairs at the Kelana Jaya waiting line and concluded with them successfully petitioning to the local council for public seating. The people shown on the video are ordinary city folks from diverse races; Malays, Indians, Chinese and some foreigners (Thai, African). They speak in languages that I comprehend - English without a trace of American accent, Cantonese and Bahasa Melayu. The efforts of the 2 Malaysians felt genuine to me and they striked me as a couple of young boys who are creative and innovative with a sense of civic consciousness. Nothing in that video felt fake to me, if anything I thought it was heart warming, beautifully shot and it managed to convey their message in a simple manner. And most importantly, the video felt trully Malaysian to me. Which is much more than I can say for "KL: It's Alive" which for all it's bright colours and psychedelic music, felt shallow, superficial, flat and so obviously lacking in depth.
I am very surprised that a lot of people have given their seal of approval on the video with some even suggesting that this should be the tourism advertisement for the nation. Is this really how we want to present KL, the capital of Malaysia, the pride and joy of our country to the entire world? A hedonistic society exhibiting self importance and pretension, a frivolous city devoid of culture and heritage. Are we so obsessed with the Western culture that we only seek to imitate? Even the people featured in the video (i.e. coffee joint owner, fashion designer, indie singer) spoke with a pseudo American accent which should not come across as a surprise. I mean, the entire video reeks of unoriginality. It is an ostentatious display of the lifestyles of the rich and famous. It is out of touch with reality and could not possibly resonate with the average Malaysian. Perhaps the video was not intended to reflect the "real" KL with it's filthy streets, horrendous traffic, scorching heat and torrential downpour. It is "their" (hipsters, rich and famous, Western wannabes) version of KL in all it's grandiose, glamour and glory. After all, the video was produced by Mercedes Benz; a symbol of wealth and affluence in an increasingly money driven Malaysia.
If you want a more accurate potrayal of KL, I suggest this video entitled "The Chair Project". Watch it here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8ZwBr0e67w. It may not have garnered as many hits as "KL: It's Alive" but to me, this video has heart and soul, attributes which were sorely lacking in "KL: It's Alive". The Chair Project features the efforts of 2 Malaysians who built chairs at the Kelana Jaya waiting line and concluded with them successfully petitioning to the local council for public seating. The people shown on the video are ordinary city folks from diverse races; Malays, Indians, Chinese and some foreigners (Thai, African). They speak in languages that I comprehend - English without a trace of American accent, Cantonese and Bahasa Melayu. The efforts of the 2 Malaysians felt genuine to me and they striked me as a couple of young boys who are creative and innovative with a sense of civic consciousness. Nothing in that video felt fake to me, if anything I thought it was heart warming, beautifully shot and it managed to convey their message in a simple manner. And most importantly, the video felt trully Malaysian to me. Which is much more than I can say for "KL: It's Alive" which for all it's bright colours and psychedelic music, felt shallow, superficial, flat and so obviously lacking in depth.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
hello kitty latte
I am on a quest to hunt for the best hot chocalate within the vicinity of Selangor D.E. So far, Delicious is at the top of my list but we shall see what the future brings.
Anyway this is a shot of coffee art at it's finest - Hello Kitty on a fresh cup of latte! Too adorable to consume.
Anyway this is a shot of coffee art at it's finest - Hello Kitty on a fresh cup of latte! Too adorable to consume.
gastronomic delights
Weekends are for filling tummies and expanding waistlines. Although I have been meaning to go on a diet thanks to my increasingly large hips, I am unable to resist food (glorious food especially). I think I will just stick to exercising. I will commit to exercising at least 3 times weekly (2 days of jogging and 1 day of swimming) and I may reduce my dessert (cakes and ice creams) intake. I will not become a fatty, I will not!
(Top to bottom: California roll, sushi platter with udon, salmon terriyaki with rice at Miraku, scones with raspberry jam and cream, hot chocalate, h20 at Plan B; Paradigm Mall)
(Top to bottom: California roll, sushi platter with udon, salmon terriyaki with rice at Miraku, scones with raspberry jam and cream, hot chocalate, h20 at Plan B; Paradigm Mall)
Saturday, July 14, 2012
lest we forget
So I finished watching The Pacific yesterday and I confess, I currently have the hugest crush on Joseph Mazello who played war veteran Eugene Sledge. His performance was heart breakingly beautiful and I cried real tears at the scene where he went hunting with his father and decided that he could not hunt anymore, after what he'd seen in combat.
Whenever I watch a war movie or simply re-enactments of battles, I often wonder about the people in the background who fell to their deaths, killed by artillery, mortars or snipers. Of course in television and movies, they are merely actors. But I wonder about the real wars that have taken place in the past, and also the present wars that are being fought. These brave soldiers who enlist themselves and sacrificed their lives - I wonder who they are. I think about a girlfriend or wife who will never see him again. A mother or a father who received a telegram simply stating that their son has been killed in action. But that he died a hero. I think about all these young men, their sufferings and misery, their lives shortened and their deaths, so random and senseless. And I wonder, at what cost does freedom come?
We often forget that less than 70 years ago, the world was at war. I guess people do not want to be reminded of a dark time in the history of mankind. It is simply easier to pretend it never happened and get on with our lives. After all, life in the 21st century has never been better. We have amazing technology that enables us to buy things without even physically stepping out of our homes, communication with the click of a button. Why should we concern ourselves with an event that occured 70 years ago and the people who were involved? It is important for me though. I want to remember our soldiers and the price they paid for our freedom. Their lives and subsequent deaths should not be reduced to mere statistics - each and everyone of them was someone's son, husband, father, brother. By forgetting them, we are doing injustice to the sacrifices that they made, which led to the world that we know of today.
Whenever I watch a war movie or simply re-enactments of battles, I often wonder about the people in the background who fell to their deaths, killed by artillery, mortars or snipers. Of course in television and movies, they are merely actors. But I wonder about the real wars that have taken place in the past, and also the present wars that are being fought. These brave soldiers who enlist themselves and sacrificed their lives - I wonder who they are. I think about a girlfriend or wife who will never see him again. A mother or a father who received a telegram simply stating that their son has been killed in action. But that he died a hero. I think about all these young men, their sufferings and misery, their lives shortened and their deaths, so random and senseless. And I wonder, at what cost does freedom come?
We often forget that less than 70 years ago, the world was at war. I guess people do not want to be reminded of a dark time in the history of mankind. It is simply easier to pretend it never happened and get on with our lives. After all, life in the 21st century has never been better. We have amazing technology that enables us to buy things without even physically stepping out of our homes, communication with the click of a button. Why should we concern ourselves with an event that occured 70 years ago and the people who were involved? It is important for me though. I want to remember our soldiers and the price they paid for our freedom. Their lives and subsequent deaths should not be reduced to mere statistics - each and everyone of them was someone's son, husband, father, brother. By forgetting them, we are doing injustice to the sacrifices that they made, which led to the world that we know of today.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
welcome to adulthood!
I was bitten by bed bugs last night and I currently have less than 15 bites all across my back. The bites itch like crazy and if it isn't for a deadline at work this Friday, I would be so tempted to take a sickie tomorrow.
My brother graduated a couple days back and I wish I could afford a graduation present as a gesture of congratulations. But unfortunately, my finances are currently in a dire situation no thanks to education fees (I would rather spend that money on a Balenciaga Giant City, but alas I have been told an education is invaluable) so a short note on my humble blog would have to suffice for now.
Hi Elmo
Firstly, congratulations on graduating. I hope that you will not be disappointed with life post university and that it meets (or better yet, exceeds) your expecations. Do not become jaded, cynical and do accept life's shortcomings. And may you wake up every day with wonder, finding joy and purpose in whatever it is that you choose to do.
My brother graduated a couple days back and I wish I could afford a graduation present as a gesture of congratulations. But unfortunately, my finances are currently in a dire situation no thanks to education fees (I would rather spend that money on a Balenciaga Giant City, but alas I have been told an education is invaluable) so a short note on my humble blog would have to suffice for now.
Hi Elmo
Firstly, congratulations on graduating. I hope that you will not be disappointed with life post university and that it meets (or better yet, exceeds) your expecations. Do not become jaded, cynical and do accept life's shortcomings. And may you wake up every day with wonder, finding joy and purpose in whatever it is that you choose to do.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
weekend getaway
I was at Pangkor island during the weekend for some Company retreat. The weather was scorching hot and I did not perpetually immerse myself in the water for fear of being judged by my colleagues for having a cellulite ridden ass. I found myself attracted to certain things while isolated on an island, far removed from my normal life, that I would not find myself attracted to otherwise. Like a twenty ringgit kaftan that I would probably never wear again. Or gazing into the deep blue sea and letting time standstill. Or just making empty chatter with fellow comrades.
Wilderness and nature do indeed inspire, rejuvenate and excite.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Sunday, June 10, 2012
...Life was insignificant and death without consequence
All my life (up to the age of 22), I have always thought I would grow up and do something important and be someone. I wanted to create a mark, make an impact and change the world. Perhaps I was too much of an idealist, influenced by characters in the movies that I watched or books that I read. I wanted to be a concert pianist, or a criminal attorney, a journalist (or a columnist like you know, Carrie Bradshaw) or a scriptwriter. I mean does anybody actually wants to become an accountant? Is that ever an ambition for anybody below the age of 30? A stuffy accountant? Of all the careers and professions in the world, how does anybody end up being an accountant?
Well I guess, sometimes real life gets in the way of big dreams. Bills to pay, cars and houses to buy, food to put on the table, people to take care of, responsibilities to uphold. And we all know, poverty more than anything else destroys. It crushes your very soul and destroys families. So we all toil and struggle, days on end just to survive. But of course, so if you work not because you want to but because you have to and if you especially hate your job, the environment, the whole corporate culture, then you end up feeling resentful, bitter, cynical. You begin to blame everyone around you, your parents, your upbringing, your education, even life for handing you such lousy cards. This is when other people's lives, when viewed from your myopic perspective, become a series of never ending exotic adventure. Travels, celebrations, beautiful photography of places you have never been and things you do not possess.
“It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but the young know they are wretched for they are full of the truthless ideal which have been instilled into them, and each time they come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded. It looks as if they were victims of a conspiracy; for the books they read, ideal by the necessity of selection, and the conversation of their elders, who look back upon the past through a rosy haze of forgetfulness, prepare them for an unreal life. They must discover for themselves that all they have read and all they have been told are lies, lies, lies; and each discovery is another nail driven into the body on the cross of life.”
(Of Human Bondage, W. Somerset Maugham)
Well I guess, sometimes real life gets in the way of big dreams. Bills to pay, cars and houses to buy, food to put on the table, people to take care of, responsibilities to uphold. And we all know, poverty more than anything else destroys. It crushes your very soul and destroys families. So we all toil and struggle, days on end just to survive. But of course, so if you work not because you want to but because you have to and if you especially hate your job, the environment, the whole corporate culture, then you end up feeling resentful, bitter, cynical. You begin to blame everyone around you, your parents, your upbringing, your education, even life for handing you such lousy cards. This is when other people's lives, when viewed from your myopic perspective, become a series of never ending exotic adventure. Travels, celebrations, beautiful photography of places you have never been and things you do not possess.
“It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but the young know they are wretched for they are full of the truthless ideal which have been instilled into them, and each time they come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded. It looks as if they were victims of a conspiracy; for the books they read, ideal by the necessity of selection, and the conversation of their elders, who look back upon the past through a rosy haze of forgetfulness, prepare them for an unreal life. They must discover for themselves that all they have read and all they have been told are lies, lies, lies; and each discovery is another nail driven into the body on the cross of life.”
(Of Human Bondage, W. Somerset Maugham)
Sunday, February 12, 2012
what men want - ntv7 10.00pm every saturday
had the privilege to catch this reality tv series entitled "What Men Want" on ntv7 last night. It was an hour of my life that I will never get back, and I had to waste it on such pretentious drivel. Some background - it's a reality show produced by ntv7 which sets up six young Malaysian men in a penthouse seeking to understand what drives the male pscyche (source, Daily Chilli). There is a sensitive singer songwriter that makes orgasmic faces when he howls sings, a smarmy photographer, a cartoonist who caters to her girlfriend's every whim and fancy, the token annoying joker, another guy that wears business suits and there is this other guy who is also mommy's boy. Between the six of them, I couldn't decide which one I wanted to punch most in the face.
I don't know about you guys but real men don't go around the streets of KL moping with a pensive look on their faces, looking lost and melancholy. Nor do they obsess so much about love lives, be abused by their crazy, bossy girlfriends (in this episode I saw, the girlfriend of one of the characters demanded him to go see her NOW and then proceeded to speak in a baby voice "Come faster ya"), write romantic songs on the rooftop (songs which by the way made my ears bleed), hold hands while driving in the car (in the same scene, the girlfriend of the mommy's boy whiningly pestered him to get married. I'm proud of you girlfriend, NOT!) or mumble monotonously when they speak. Seriously, I was embarassed for all the men and their girlfriends or friends on the show. The real men I know in real life have fulfilling careers, they have healthy relationships with the people around them, their lives do not revolve around love and sex, they do the plumbing, change light bulbs and tyres, take out trash, repair door knobs and everything else that is broken - THEY SURE AS HELL DO NOT MOPE AND MUMBLE AROUND THE STREETS OF KL!
My fucking goodness, words cannot describe how much I detest this dumb reality show! Instead of using the opportunity to dispel the myth that all men care about are women and sex, it further perpetuates the idea and could possibly influence impressionable young minds out there into believing that these kind of men are what women want. We want articulate, intelligent men that have the ability to inspire, well-balanced individuals with diverse interests and hobbies, men who are gentle yet strong, men who don't sit around the apartment with their buddies talking about women (seriously I don't know any men that does this. All the men I know do testosterone laden activities with their guy buddies like discuss politics over beers or play badminton), the men represented on the show are just a bunch of pussies. Do guys really act the way that they do on this reality show or am I just missing something? Fail ntv7, big utter FAIL!
p/s Rest assured, I'll be tuning in next week. I need the unintentional comedy.
I don't know about you guys but real men don't go around the streets of KL moping with a pensive look on their faces, looking lost and melancholy. Nor do they obsess so much about love lives, be abused by their crazy, bossy girlfriends (in this episode I saw, the girlfriend of one of the characters demanded him to go see her NOW and then proceeded to speak in a baby voice "Come faster ya"), write romantic songs on the rooftop (songs which by the way made my ears bleed), hold hands while driving in the car (in the same scene, the girlfriend of the mommy's boy whiningly pestered him to get married. I'm proud of you girlfriend, NOT!) or mumble monotonously when they speak. Seriously, I was embarassed for all the men and their girlfriends or friends on the show. The real men I know in real life have fulfilling careers, they have healthy relationships with the people around them, their lives do not revolve around love and sex, they do the plumbing, change light bulbs and tyres, take out trash, repair door knobs and everything else that is broken - THEY SURE AS HELL DO NOT MOPE AND MUMBLE AROUND THE STREETS OF KL!
My fucking goodness, words cannot describe how much I detest this dumb reality show! Instead of using the opportunity to dispel the myth that all men care about are women and sex, it further perpetuates the idea and could possibly influence impressionable young minds out there into believing that these kind of men are what women want. We want articulate, intelligent men that have the ability to inspire, well-balanced individuals with diverse interests and hobbies, men who are gentle yet strong, men who don't sit around the apartment with their buddies talking about women (seriously I don't know any men that does this. All the men I know do testosterone laden activities with their guy buddies like discuss politics over beers or play badminton), the men represented on the show are just a bunch of pussies. Do guys really act the way that they do on this reality show or am I just missing something? Fail ntv7, big utter FAIL!
p/s Rest assured, I'll be tuning in next week. I need the unintentional comedy.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
how i met ivan
Three and a half years ago, on the brink of self destruction, I made a monumental decision. My failed relationship implored me to remove myself physically from the places that held many fond memories and to venture somewhere new, even if it was just approximately 350 kilometres away. So I picked up the broken pieces of my heart and life, and started on a clean state. I wasn't certain what the future held for me and I dared not to hope that I'd fall in love again, it had turned into an incomprehensible concept, a theory and an equation I could no longer understand. I buried myself in work during the day and by night, I aimlessly read books, watched movies or went for dinners with strangers friends I barely knew. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't unhappy and as time passed by, I no longer thought of him in the way that lovers do.
Somewhere between then and now, I met someone, or rather someone met me. I cannot recollect what our first words were to each other, or where we went on our first date, or what I wore...all I remember was how he made me feel. Of course, cynics will say feelings are fleeting and not at all a good indication of true and sustainable love. Even so, life being as bleak and dreary as it is, the light of love shall be it's saving grace. Ivan made me believe in the existence and possibility of goodness and kindness. He represents everything I've always wanted to be but was incapable of becoming - he is unbelievably gentle, compassionate, selfless and humble. Metaphorically speaking, if he is the sun, I am the moon - dark, moody, unpredictable and prone to tantrums.
I guess for all my grievances in life, I am glad to have found someone I bicker and argue very well with, someone who gives me his unfailing support even when I seem to give him nothing but hell, and the most incredible thing is I cannot imagine anyone else in this world that I'd rather be with, for now, tomorrow and the next 50 years. So in the spirit of Chap Goh Meh and Valentine's Day, this concludes the story of how I met Ivan - fate, divine intervention, destiny.
Somewhere between then and now, I met someone, or rather someone met me. I cannot recollect what our first words were to each other, or where we went on our first date, or what I wore...all I remember was how he made me feel. Of course, cynics will say feelings are fleeting and not at all a good indication of true and sustainable love. Even so, life being as bleak and dreary as it is, the light of love shall be it's saving grace. Ivan made me believe in the existence and possibility of goodness and kindness. He represents everything I've always wanted to be but was incapable of becoming - he is unbelievably gentle, compassionate, selfless and humble. Metaphorically speaking, if he is the sun, I am the moon - dark, moody, unpredictable and prone to tantrums.
I guess for all my grievances in life, I am glad to have found someone I bicker and argue very well with, someone who gives me his unfailing support even when I seem to give him nothing but hell, and the most incredible thing is I cannot imagine anyone else in this world that I'd rather be with, for now, tomorrow and the next 50 years. So in the spirit of Chap Goh Meh and Valentine's Day, this concludes the story of how I met Ivan - fate, divine intervention, destiny.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
sputnik sweetheart, haruki murakami
"So that's how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that is stolen from us - that's snatched right out of our hands - even if we are left completely changed people with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw even nearer to our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday. Leaving behind a feeling of immeasurable emptiness".
sunday musings
I left the office at 10.00pm every day last week (with the exception of Friday) and being more than a quarter of a century old, I have no doubts my body can no longer keep up with the demands of my stressful career job. Deloitte (or any other big accounting firm) is where dreams come to die. Many accounting graduates are fooled into believing EY, PWC, KPMG or DTT guarantees you a successful career with fantastic remuneration but I blame this on their PR and Communications department for doing such a great job at brainwashing and monopolizing the freshies' naivety. I've been in this industry for 5 years (5 years is practically an eternity. The turnover is remarkably high with many of the senior staff leaving always conveniently, before the peak season) and I can attest to the fact that the glamour and prestige painted by their PR and Communications departments are misleading, false and grossly inaccurate.
The thing is, I don't know what to do with my life. This indecisiveness is what's preventing me from leaving my current job (although I hate it with the passion of a burning suns and I practically drag myself to work every day). I used to want to be a writer but obviously, that's nothing more than a fantasy now. Why, you may ask? Writers are a dime a dozen, competition is stiff and I, who have no formal education on literature or English simply do rnot belong in this sphere. It's just an insult to the real writers everywhere. I spoke about my identity (career) crisis to a friend before and he said "Not many people have the opportunity to do what they want". If you are one of those with a career that was previously your ambition, please be aware that you are indeed very privileged.
When I was younger, one of my biggest fear was that I'd end up ordinary, living an average life, every day being the carbon copy of the day before. Well, my nightmare is now my reality. At 27 years of age, I am stuck in a job I hate, I have no real estate, I am perpetually in debt, I haven't travelled anywhere out of Asia and the most heartbreaking thing is, I still have not found my true calling. There is no one to blame but myself. I lack the ambition, drive and discpline that is required to succeed. I am trully a drifter with no real destination to reach. Take a look at all the fashion bloggers out there who are 14 years old, or take Xiaxue or Timothy Tiah as examples - they became famous and are successful because they worked hard at perfecting the art of blogging. It's not like they achieved everything that they have today because someone handed it to them on a silver platter. I on the other hand, do nothing more than whine, complain and laze all day, whole day, every day.
For all my lofty ambitions when I was younger, for all my truthful ideals, if a 17 year old version of myself were to meet my current self, she would have been very disappointed with my failure and unaccomplishments. My 17 year old self would not have been able to comprehend that this is all there is to my life. Bills, income tax computations, ocassional consumption of unnecessary things, slaving away at my cubicle doing something I find no meaning in...
She would however be happy to know that I was able to conquer my life long fear of water and l finally learned how to swim.
The thing is, I don't know what to do with my life. This indecisiveness is what's preventing me from leaving my current job (although I hate it with the passion of a burning suns and I practically drag myself to work every day). I used to want to be a writer but obviously, that's nothing more than a fantasy now. Why, you may ask? Writers are a dime a dozen, competition is stiff and I, who have no formal education on literature or English simply do rnot belong in this sphere. It's just an insult to the real writers everywhere. I spoke about my identity (career) crisis to a friend before and he said "Not many people have the opportunity to do what they want". If you are one of those with a career that was previously your ambition, please be aware that you are indeed very privileged.
When I was younger, one of my biggest fear was that I'd end up ordinary, living an average life, every day being the carbon copy of the day before. Well, my nightmare is now my reality. At 27 years of age, I am stuck in a job I hate, I have no real estate, I am perpetually in debt, I haven't travelled anywhere out of Asia and the most heartbreaking thing is, I still have not found my true calling. There is no one to blame but myself. I lack the ambition, drive and discpline that is required to succeed. I am trully a drifter with no real destination to reach. Take a look at all the fashion bloggers out there who are 14 years old, or take Xiaxue or Timothy Tiah as examples - they became famous and are successful because they worked hard at perfecting the art of blogging. It's not like they achieved everything that they have today because someone handed it to them on a silver platter. I on the other hand, do nothing more than whine, complain and laze all day, whole day, every day.
For all my lofty ambitions when I was younger, for all my truthful ideals, if a 17 year old version of myself were to meet my current self, she would have been very disappointed with my failure and unaccomplishments. My 17 year old self would not have been able to comprehend that this is all there is to my life. Bills, income tax computations, ocassional consumption of unnecessary things, slaving away at my cubicle doing something I find no meaning in...
She would however be happy to know that I was able to conquer my life long fear of water and l finally learned how to swim.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
gong xi fa cai!
Wishing all my readers near and far a very happy and prosperous new year! May the year of the dragon bring you good health, great wealth, peace and happiness.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
sunday musings...
I admire women who are in top management and good at what they do. We all know the work place is a war zone or a much exagerrated version of high school. There is plenty of back stabbing and politics involved and being merely a hard worker with proficient technical knowledge isn't sufficient to get you to the top. Achieving a role with power and authority requires social skills, a large network, the ability to be diplomatic and most importantly, allies that can help you get there. I've observed my female bosses in their natural element - they do not show one hint of emotion, are always on their feet anticipating their enemies' next moves, are extremely good with words (having extensive vocabulary and demostrate superior public speaking skills) and they possess the innate ability to manipulate people into believing they have their best interests' at heart.
I've often struggled with my relationships at work - with my colleagues especially. I work in a predominantly female environment so there is no lack of catfights, drama and estrogen running around. I try my best to detach myself away from the toxicity and negativity that surrounds the battle ground but in alienating myself, I have not had the opportunity to create successful alliances with anyone. And we all know, alliances are crucial to winning a war. They provide support and invaluable resources. Building friendships at work (or even in life) constantly remain a challenge to me - I simply do not have the patience to deal with people's inevitable personality flaws and quirks.
Now, through my years of working, I've realized that often the best reaction, when confronted with unreasonable requests and deadlines or inflicted with blame and injustice, is to not give one. Most employees (and employers) are adverse to conflicts so there are no benefits derived from flogging a dead horse. Best we can do in any given situation is to respond accordingly and simply move on. After all, there is no point winning the battle only to lose the war.
I've often struggled with my relationships at work - with my colleagues especially. I work in a predominantly female environment so there is no lack of catfights, drama and estrogen running around. I try my best to detach myself away from the toxicity and negativity that surrounds the battle ground but in alienating myself, I have not had the opportunity to create successful alliances with anyone. And we all know, alliances are crucial to winning a war. They provide support and invaluable resources. Building friendships at work (or even in life) constantly remain a challenge to me - I simply do not have the patience to deal with people's inevitable personality flaws and quirks.
Now, through my years of working, I've realized that often the best reaction, when confronted with unreasonable requests and deadlines or inflicted with blame and injustice, is to not give one. Most employees (and employers) are adverse to conflicts so there are no benefits derived from flogging a dead horse. Best we can do in any given situation is to respond accordingly and simply move on. After all, there is no point winning the battle only to lose the war.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
...Death is the essential condition of life
I have been thinking a lot about death lately. Not that I wish to start 2012 on such a sombre note but with age catching up on me, and also the people around me, maybe I should start taking our mortality a little more seriously. I used to think dying would be just like falling into a deep, peaceful slumber...only that it's for an infinite amount of time. It didn't used to scare me, in fact I accepted it as a natural progression from life. Lately however, I've been having different sentiments about death. I wish I can delay it or better yet, eliminate the inevitable completely, not so much as for myself but for the people I know and love.
I've only experienced death once. My paternal grandfather died 11 years ago and the whole ordeal was surreal. It was hard to coming to terms with losing someone you used to see every day. I remember someone telling me "Take one last look before we seal the coffin". The finality of that one single act is astonishing, it hits you once again that the person is gone from you, from this world forever. Even the lifeless body no longer contains the person you once knew, it's merely a shell, stripped bare from his or her soul.
I wonder how dying feels like. Painful, tormenting, what kind of emotions will pass, what our last thoughts will be. I don't think it will be entirely painless. Breathing is a natural instinct and when we die, we cease to breathe. Suffice to say, struggling to breathe will be no walk in the park. Much like drowning, gasping for air. Death goes against everything we have been accustomed to in this life. Breathing, surviving, living...Or maybe life and death are just two sides of the same coin.
I read this on my friend's Facebook wall once, that in creating life, we are also simultaneously creating death. The paradox of living, only to eventually die boggles my humble mind.
I've only experienced death once. My paternal grandfather died 11 years ago and the whole ordeal was surreal. It was hard to coming to terms with losing someone you used to see every day. I remember someone telling me "Take one last look before we seal the coffin". The finality of that one single act is astonishing, it hits you once again that the person is gone from you, from this world forever. Even the lifeless body no longer contains the person you once knew, it's merely a shell, stripped bare from his or her soul.
I wonder how dying feels like. Painful, tormenting, what kind of emotions will pass, what our last thoughts will be. I don't think it will be entirely painless. Breathing is a natural instinct and when we die, we cease to breathe. Suffice to say, struggling to breathe will be no walk in the park. Much like drowning, gasping for air. Death goes against everything we have been accustomed to in this life. Breathing, surviving, living...Or maybe life and death are just two sides of the same coin.
I read this on my friend's Facebook wall once, that in creating life, we are also simultaneously creating death. The paradox of living, only to eventually die boggles my humble mind.
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