The Barter System

Barter is a type of trade in which goods or services are directly exchanged for other goods and/or services, without the use of money.


I'll trade my...

1) guitar skills for better drumming skills.

2) drumming skills for better vocals.

3) DotA skills for better 02jam skills.

4) 02jam skills for better Guitar Hero skills.

5) football skills for rugby skills.

6) ping pong skills for tennis skills.

7) sports abilities for the ability to dance.
 
8) agility for flexibility.

9) curly hair for corn-row, mohawk, or an afro.

10) brown eyes for bigger eyes.

11) tanned skin for some height.

12) 26GB of music for lessons with rock legends.

13) acoustic for an electric.

14) HP laptop for a high-end desktop.

15) Samsung U600 for an iPhone.

16) Converse shoes for two pairs of 'em.

17) F30 Adidas boots for a trip to White Hart Lane.

18) close friends for dad.

19) mom's love for me for more of my love for her.

20) girlfriend for my own band.

21) dog Sasha for a fat Persian cat.

22) 3rd semester for my family trip to UK.

23) academic success for knowledge.

24) ability to argue for a better listening ear.

25) ability to talk nonsense for the gift of an orator.

26) ability to write for longer attention span.

27) ability to know for the ability to do.

28) ability to stay awake for some decent sleep.

29) materialism for spirituality.

30) life for an eternal one.


Just needed to get away from the real life for abit.

Cheers.

Who Am I?

I looked in the mirror,
A reflection I see.
But things don't get clearer,
When who I seek is me.

Sometimes I wonder,
What lies beneath this facade?
If it was torn asunder,
Of whose image I am made?

'Tis a thinly veiled life,
When behind masks we hide.
But if only we were to realise,
That every face is far too wide.

Who am I?
I do not know.
This question,
Upon myself I bestow.

Hence, I searched high and low,
For more than a name or so.
And in that searching I found,
Something greater far is bound.

Who am I?
I still do not know.
But in confidence now, I can boast;
I am Yours.

1750. 240309. Fish.

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Casting Crowns - Who Am I

Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name
Would care to feel my hurt
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart

Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours

Who am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me

Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are

I am a flower quickly fading
Here today and gone tomorrow
A wave tossed in the ocean
A vapor in the wind
Still You hear me when I'm calling
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling
And You've told me who I am
I am Yours, I am Yours

I am Yours
Whom shall I fear
Whom shall I fear
'Cause I am Yours
I am Yours

The Chronicles Of Wadeland: The Hedonistic Wades

It is with much sadness and grief that this epic tale is recalled. This happened before Wadeboyboy's betrayal of Wadeland, leaving for greener pastures, to another land faraway.

It was a cool night, the skies were starry with a full moon beaming overhead. 4 Wades got together for a bachelor's night out. Wadeboyboy drove his red Ferrari and picked the remaining 3 Wades up. Little did they know, it was going to be one wild night.

The following part of the tale will be recalled in dialogues.

Wadefish: Bro, where we going lah?

Wadeboyboy: I know good places around here. We can have some "fun". *evil grin*

Wadecool: What??? I'm scared lah, I'm underage. LOL. Jk.

Wadefrog: Eh, let's not go back tonight lah. We go overnight at Wadeboyboy's house.

Wadeboyboy: Cannot la bro... You see... (blah blah and gives stupid, lame excuses).

Wadefish: Wth man, I have to be back early then. We can't have a wild night. Or my mom will butcher me.

Wadeboyboy: Hmm... kla... Er, I think you guys can overnight at my place lah...

Wadefish: Deng!! Stupid la!! I packed my stuff edi but just now you say cannot I didn't bring. What am I gonna wear??

Wadefrog: Pinjam Wadeboyboy's lah...

Wadefish: Cannot lah... His one too small edi. LOL.

Wadecool: Eh, I found this good place with Wadeboyboy that day... near the bus station.. (goes into whispers).

And so, the night began. In preparation for stimulative activities later on, the Wades ate 6677 at a stall by the roadside. After filling up their blackholes, they proceeded to slay zombies for some warming up action. Then, they got on with the real deal.

Wadeboyboy rounded the streets of Yang Kalsom. Shadows lurking in dark corners could be seen beneath the shoplots. That was the prize. The fabled aquas. They were beautiful. Wadeboyboy pulled his bright red Ferrari up right next to the women. And so, the Wades were ensued in long, dirty talks with the aquas. One or two even recognised Wadeboyboy as their regular customer and asked:

Aqua: Ehh, you. Kenapa sudah sombong sekarang?

It was a breathtaking experience as the Wades even had minimal (I stress this word) contact with the aquas. A few hours later, the Wades felt no more steam in what they were doing. They decided it was enough for one night. Wadecool though, didn't seem to get enough. However, after much dispute and disagreement, they settled for beers in Polo Ground; with the exception of Wadefrog, who felt Coke alone could get him drunk.

It was about 5 in the morning. Morning joggers, mostly old folks, stared at the Wades who seemed to be drunk by now (but perfectly conscious). And they gave not a few looks of disgust at these seemingly troubled youth. Little did they know, the Wades are well disciplined, God-loving citizens of Wadeland. What's more, they couldn't recognise Wadefish, the founder of Wadeland, in that dim glow...

After settling the beers, the Wades decided to vanquish the whisperings and stares of the old folks once and for all. So, they threw the beer bottles high and far up in the air (Wadeboyboy had a very bad throw; almost killing himself and the other Wades). Upon touching ground, the bottles smashed to pieces; the piercing sound of glass shattering broke through the night. The joggers jogged faster, murmurings ceased, for fear of their lives. The Wades could not help but laugh at the sight of the scurrying dogs, for they meant no harm at all.

The Wades, guilt conscious of threatening the old folks, decided to redeem their Wade-sin by doing something which they would never do under normal circumstances. And so, the wild night ended with a mild activity. The Wades ate dim sum; the favourite sport for old folks after a good morning jog!

To be continued...

Rorschach's Journal

I beg your pardon, I don't mean to blog with such consistency. But after an encounter with Rorschach in Watchmen, I felt compelled to write. Such truth in Rorschach's words; they were in line with the thoughts in the book "Satan & The Problem Of Evil", which I'm currently studying.

For some, the movie Watchmen was a total waste of time. I, personally, felt it was a good movie, excluding the gore as I'm no fan of extreme violence. It was a little draggy, and certain parts were illogical if you were to reason, but hey, it's a movie after all, right? The music was also fantastic. The movie opened with Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are a-Changin", and tracks throughout include Simon & Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence", Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable", and Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah". It cuts, therefore, as one good movie on the whole.

I used to attribute all kinds of suffering, evil, mishap, accident, and sorrow to God. I believed that there is a divine purpose for all these to happen. But after reading (still in the process of) the book "Satan & The Problem Of Evil", I realised that Augustine's blueprint worldview (the view of the world rooted in the assumption that behind every specific event there is a specific divine reason as to why it was ordained or at least allowed to take place) may not be as flawless as it seemed after all.

For how can we attribute that which is evil to a God who is good by nature? If all kinds of evil are part of God's divine plan, how can we be blamed and be justly punished for them? If it's so, God is the author of evil, and therefore we are absolved of responsibility for all our actions, because it is God who ultimately determines what we want and what we do. And so, I began a quest to look further into this matter, as I've always questioned the origins of evil, and why we're morally responsible for it.

Rorschach was a sociopath, a lunatic, branded by people around him who don't see life as he does. But I see Rorschach as more of a Christian than a psycho. Rorschach believed in moral absolutism and moral objectivism. In his world, good and evil are clearly defined, and evil must be violently punished. For this cause, he alienated himself from the rest of the society. From his words, it was also clear that he held the postapostolic father's views concerning evil. He believed in incompatibilistic freedom. God created all of us (even Satan and angels) with a free will; the ability and self-determining freedom to choose. We are the ultimate cause and explanation of our actions. In one scene, Rorschach said that it wasn't God who made the world the way it was (referring to the war-torn world with constant nuclear threats). He said it was us, humans.  

And as I read, I came upon the trinitarian warfare worldview, which combines belief in the Trinity with a recognition of the war-torn nature of this world. It's a view of the world that understands that there are good and bad spirits significantly involved in the affairs of the world. It argues that the scope and intensity of suffering and evil we experience in this world are only adequately accounted for when viewed against the backdrop of a cosmic war between God and Satan. Satan and his angels have their free will and therefore, they have the ability to thwart God's plan. But God will always work with his people to bring good out of evil, often with such effectiveness that it may seem that the evil was planned all along. [Extracts from Satan & The Problem Of Evil]

This is a huge subject to cover in a blog post. My attempts in elaboration are futile to a certain extent I believe, but nevertheless, they are essential. I've only covered a chapter of the book, but I've gained new perspectives and insights concerning the problem of evil. It is time we break free from the cliche of comforting ourselves that it's part of God's divine plan when things screw up or when evil occurs. The fact that this world looks like a warzone is because it is a world at war. Therefore, we as Christians, are all in this war together, to defeat the evil forces of Satan.

Let us stand firm in our beliefs, as we strive to battle against the formidable opponent, Satan and his angels. We may fall, now and then, but as Rorschach's final words go: We should never compromise; even if it's Armageddon.

In the quiet of my 3 walls and a door, I ponder. It was the first night of Fragments, a production of PKVUM. Everything went well, except for a few technical flaws which displayed how human we all are.

The last few days were exhaustive. I skipped the whole day of class today and slept till 3pm. But after so much has been said and done, the only thought I have is: What was I doing?

Now it happened as they went that He entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus' feet and heard His word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, "Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore, tell her to help me." And Jesus answered and said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her."

Luke 10:38-42

It's not that I'm questioning anyone involved in Fragments or the production itself. I'm not implying that Fragments isn't necessary and we are all to pray and go for bible study on a Tuesday night instead. Because we are also called to make disciples of all nations, to preach the gospel of good news. I'm questioning myself.

I can't seem to worship when I serve. What's worse, I'm a more severe case of Martha. At least she was busy with serving because Jesus was there. I'm involved in Fragments, but just like any other production and events I've been involved in, I find it hard to get myself spiritually involved. I have time for many things, practice and all, but I don't have time to even say a simple prayer (excluding corporate prayers). Even right now, I'd rather blog than read the Bible, after a long day. It is so that I question myself, what am I doing all these for? Is it a showcase of talents I have? A mere responsibility, because I'm a PKV-ian? A duty because I've been asked to help out?

Well, I don't glorify myself, I don't gloat in the spotlight. When I play the guitar, I just play the guitar. I enjoy it but nothing else. I try as much as possible to worship, to sing with conviction. But with the guitar in my hands, I find it hard. I don't understand how people actually worship with an instrument. Consciously, I cannot. And partly maybe, I have not spent enough time with my God. I have not taken time to sit at His feet, to listen and not talk, to stop being distracted with serving for once.

I do not want to stay Martha. I want to be a combination of Mary and Martha. Maybe it is only good that I lay down my guitar for some time after tomorrow's Fragments. I should not serve, unless I get it right.    

Of Writings, Fat People, And Change

"You couldn't effect change with a song. You could only write about what was inside you. And folk music was, fat people."

Jack Rollins, I'm Not There.

In the 1960's, Bob Dylan sang songs of protests against the Establishment. His songs became anthems of both the civil rights movements and of those opposed to the Vietnam War. Above, was a phrase taken from the biographical film of Bob Dylan's life. Jack Rollins, in the film, was a metaphorical figure of one aspect of Bob Dylan's life. By the end of 1963, Bob Dylan stopped protesting. He felt manipulated and constrained by the folk and protest movements.

Malaysia is in a severe political turmoil. Perak is in a state of impasse. Politically motivated blogs, bloggers are everywhere. I'm guilty as charged; I feel like one too. There were times I felt tempted to join the crowd, to write anti-Establishment posts, to speak my heart out on the political situation in Malaysia.

But how much change could we really effect with what we write?

It is sad to see our country in such a political crisis, as never before. What more, when it's happening in my own state, my hometown. Each of us can blog all we want about corruption, power abuse, and money politics. We can hurl and heap insults on the government, the ruling party and specific worthless leaders. We can write about what is inside us. But that is all we can do. At the end of it, we are all just fat people.

And even fat people varies one from another. Even in Perak, legal experts have different opinions on which party is right, which is wrong; which move is constitutional, which is not. Yes, we are not satisfied and we cry out for justice. But justice doesn't come with writings, blog posts, or articles. We can read, be informed and that's about it. We are an impasse ourselves.

We are desperate for change, for political redemption in Malaysia. But change doesn't come in form of songs. Nor writings.

Just Another Song Stuck In My Head

Blue October
She's My Ride Home

We talked
Together sharpening the knife
Like killing partners for a life
Hey we can hide the bodies on the ride home

Now here we are
We're licking skin to wipe us clean
Strike a match, pour gasoline
Ditch the scene and watch this city burn
Asleep, my life will be a pillow steering wheel turn

I'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)
Who cares if no one else believes
So I, set fire to everyone around
But I told you
I told you
I told you

So ha ha ha ha
Ha ha ha ha
Yeah we won

We drive
To leave the past and clear the mind
To watch the sunset set it's time
I swear you'll find
I'm your ride home

Now close your eyes
Its' getting dark and the highways clear
No sign of life from front to rear
Its just you my dear
On the ride home
We're going home

I'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)
Who cares if no one else believes
So I, set fire to everyone around
But I told you
I told you
I told you

So ha ha ha ha
Ha ha ha ha
Yeah we won

We talked
Together sharpening a knife
Like killing partners for a life
Hey we can hide the bodies on the ride home
Cause we're going home

I'll be reaching for the stars with you (honey)
Who cares if no one else believes
So I, set fire to everyone around
But I told you
I told you
I told you

So ha ha ha ha (we won)
Ha ha ha ha (oh yeah we won)
Ha ha ha ha (we won)
Ha ha ha ha
Yeah we won
Yeah we won

You; You You You You You

I've always maintained that I'm a moderate person, who takes moderate measures, and live with moderate decisions. But I realised now that I'm not. In fact, I'm an extremist. I can change in a matter of a few days. I take risks, I make extreme decisions. For example, at times, I feel that I can do anything, and everything, to the point I tell myself I'm "perfect". Yet, at times (like this), I feel like a total failure. I'm intimidated by people, things, and everything around me; losing grip on how "good" I am.

For someone who thinks he is perfect, coming to terms with reality that he is not, is not always easy. But I admit that, yes, I'm no God. I'm nothing but cells and water.

It has always been my stand that blogging is no place for any relationships stuff. It makes the blog all jiwang and mushy and yeah, you get my drift. But because of the extremist nature in me, I'm hopping over to the opposition party; just like the corrupted politics in my beloved country. Yet, I cannot be despised for not having any ideals, and betraying my voter's trust and confidence in me because I'm no politician. Change is certain, and change is good; especially when you see things from a different perspective and with different reason.

Today, this post is about my relationship with you. I'm sorry that it has to end this way, but even right now, I've no regrets on the decision I've made. I'm sorry, because I'm temperamental. I'm sorry because I thought I can commit to a relationship only to find myself unable to give the commitment a relationship requires. It's never my intention to hurt you over and over again, or come and go as I please. I'm sorry that I'm an extremist. I'm sorry for saying I love you when I'm not capable of loving. I'm sorry it's back to square one.

You've never said you're unhappy with me. At least not to my face. But deep down inside, I know better. Even in your writings, it's clear. I'm a selfish, self-centered, bad-tempered jerk. Yes, I am everything that you say I am. You've given much in this relationship, I have not. It's not going to work that way, I know. You said that breakup is not a solution to you, but to me, it's the only and the best way we both can take. I'm not taking the easy way out, but because of who I am, I have to make certain decisions.

Someone told me that maybe I have to learn the lesson of commitment before I can be in any relationships. That God wants me to solve this issue I struggle with. I know to you, all this is a load of crap, because you have heard it from me before. The response you gave me was, how come I never thought of or deal with this issue before starting a relationship? I'm human, I'm flawed. I make mistakes. I took the risk, and put your feelings at stake. Again, I'm sorry. For who am I, to gamble on people and their feelings, just because of my own feelings? I'm selfish.

Not everything that happens, happens with a specific divine purpose. I have my self-determining freedom. I am the ultimate cause and explanation for my behaviour and decisions. Nevertheless, it will be good, in the long run. God is working to bring good out of everything. And when the war is over, and God is victorious, everything will be good.

But for now, we're all in this war together.

Shadow Of The Day

Blogging comes upon me in waves. There was a period I was a blogging enthusiast. There was a period (and still having occasional periods) of blog-suicide contemplations. My soul, my spirit, speaks naught of the state in which I currently reside.

Nevertheless, after spitting out fireballs of posts without much meaning, my system is cleansed. Even so, the cleansing is temporal, for as much as sense lives in me, nonsense lives in me like a conficker worm in an external hard disk: it cannot be removed. (now for those more technical, of course the worm can be removed by formatting the external but putting it in equal terms would mean brainwashing me)

Thus, having said that, I proceed now with this post.

Of late, I feel like a ghost. Given, I would have chosen a word less spooky and with more elegance but sometimes, the basic term is the best expression of the mind. Eating is a routine, sleeping is unnecessary, living is labour. Under normal conditions, I eat in a no holds barred manner, to the point of abnormality. I have lost this passion. Eating is to me a duty. Each spoonful of stuff I put in my mouth is just because I have a responsibility to my body. To not let it wither. I love sleep, I still do and always will. But I find it becoming unnecessary and that I can do without pretty much of it. I can stay awake till 5am, sleep for near 5hours, and go the day without naps. I find it hard to sleep. It's like; fear of sleep. The human life is a labour. Don't get me wrong; Lord, I know I still have You. Yet, tis' so hard to live when living is a routine. I refuse to be a machine.

Stop these thoughts in me. Yet, as long as I live, my thoughts live with me. However, I figured out that my thoughts can be alive, but not living. And so, I shut my thoughts up in the prison of my mind, choosing to live each day with blankness and simplicity. And without living thoughts, I'm naught but flesh and bones. A physical body that I do not own, preserved by mere humanity. No, this is not a severe case of boredom, nor depression. Talk to me; you'd find me perfectly happy, normal, and myself. But yet, I ask this question:

Who am I?

My existence ceases with each passing moment. And I question, what is my existence? Why do I exist? Yes, I have heard much; so much, that the answer becomes the problem: it becomes routined. Therefore, I'm no longer seeking for the answer in your mind, one which you want to comfort me with. I'm seeking for something more. Something more than an answer..

The Chronicles of Wadeland: His Story

Once upon a time in a land unbeknownst to man, lived a breathtakingly beautiful Wade. His name is Wadefish. He was the only creature in the land that has sense, enough at least to cover the entire Wade population. Now, I believe you may be asking questions as such: What is a Wade? In a coconutshell, a Wade is basically a creature that exists. Therefore, a Mathematical equation will be as such:

Wade = Existence

Therefore, none can truly say, "Look, bro. I'm no Wade. I don't belong to your stupid story.", because etched deeply inside everyone one of us, is a Wade. Now, that brings us to the next question, which would simply be: What Wade am I then? I, for one, do not yet know exactly the nature which determines one's Wade, but all I can say is, it's pretty much up to the Fish.

Back to the story.

Now, one fine and bright morning, Wadefish was taking a stroll along the river when he noticed aimless Wades sitting around the banks of the river. They were not doing anything at all; and if you know the exact definition of doing nothing, you'd pretty much get the idea that these Wades were as good as dead. Wadefish, overwhelmed with compassion for these helpless, useless Wades, immediately decided to do something. And so, he formed the Wade Clan, recruited all these Wades, and called each one of them by name. His purpose was to give them an aim in life, something which they can live and die for. And the land which they dwelt in was given the name - Wadeland.

To be continued...

Will.I.Am:
I'm S S S Sorry
I'm S S S Sorry
I Didn't Mean To Break Your Heart
I Didn't Mean To Break Your Heart
I'm S S S Sorry
I'm S S S Sorry
I Didn't Mean To Break Ya
B B B B Break It Baby
Look Baby
I'm A Heartbreaker
I'm A Heartbreaker
I'm A Heartbreaker
I'm A Heartbreaker

Cheryl Cole:
You're A Heartbreaker
You're A Heartbreaker
You're A Heart

Both:
A H H H H I'm A Heart
A H H H I'm a

Defence of the Ancients

There exists a computer game. A game by the name, Defence of the Ancients. I am made of flesh and spirit. While my spirit is the Sentinel in the game, my flesh is the Scourge. They are constantly at war.

5 heroes aside, the battle begins. Sentinel has Christianity, Will, Conscience, Family, and Friends. Scourge has Movies, Games, Computer, Sleep, and Enemies-With-Undisclosed-Identities. In me, Sentinel is always fighting a losing battle.

Sentinel's towers and raxes are always down, and Scourge are always inside the base, waiting outside the Fountain of Life . Most of the heroes in Sentinel are weak and their levels are low. Only Will and Conscience are weakly resisting. Most of them have no items. If they do, the items would be basic items to lengthen their survival by a few seconds. Everytime they respawn, its an almost-immediate death for them if they don't stay near the fountain enough. Any attempts of resistance will result in another tens of seconds of respawning time.

So, why is Scourge so strong in me? Why are they overwhelming? Because I have fed them, and they have farmed and grown very fat indeed. They have reached level 25. Their items are godlike. Most heroes have evasion, critical strike, cleaving damage, lifesteal and permanent stun. Given enough time and rematches, they'd probably be able to even break the Fountain of Life, one day. The Tree of Life is a goner.

What do you do then, in these situations?

I'd say, QUIT THE GAME.

I am no leaver by nature, but if certain circumstances prevail, nature may change. - The Great Clarence

An Uninspired Blogger Writes

It's been two long weeks, but it's finally over!

Just some updates. I was actually in Malacca for about two weeks, preparing and practicing for my drama performance which was on the 28th. It was a stage drama entitled "Wish Upon A Crane" by Centre Stage Productions, in aid of the National Kidney Foundation's Children Dialysis Fund. Practice was boring as I've got nothing much to do. Most of my parts were already sorta perfected before this, so the intense practice was mostly focused on the synchronization of the overture and dance, which Macho Me was not involved in. Nevertheless, I had a fairly nice time sleeping till lunch everyday, waking up to find food, lazing on the couch watching tv, and playing mahjong, while everyone slugged to practice.

On the 24th-27th, I went for the PKV camp in Camerons. In case you don't know, PKV is Persaudaraan Kristian Varsiti for my university. It was a really great experience for me, as I was the leader of a group. Besides the fun, Mr. Lian gave some really good insights during his sessions. Thoroughly enjoyed the camp, though I was soaked to my toes during the treasure hunt. Never have I been in a colder state than that. My teeth were chattering and I was shivering.

So, two weeks were alright, excluding all the travelling I had to do. My entire journey could be summed up by this.

Ipoh > KL > Malacca > KL > Camerons > KL > Malacca > Ipoh.

Long bus rides can kill.

Well, that's all for now. December will be a duper fun month, because I love my mom, I love my friends, I love the food, I love the fun, and they are all here, in dear Ipoh! Gonna enjoy my month here before it's back to the grindstone for me.

A simple post by a boring blogger.

Spoon - Finer Feelings

Memphis comes creeping down my back
Somehow this place tastes just like an attack
A hundred-yard-stare of a kiss
Lord, I know I'll never miss it

They told me stop scouting the field
They told me have a look in Commercial Appeal
And start getting that hair cut sharp

Sometimes I think that I'll find a love
One that's gonna change my heart
I'll find it in Commercial Appeal
And then this heartache'll get chased away

I was part-time at the Tasty Prawn
That and moving furniture and cutting lawns
Covered in newsprint, staying up real late
Just holding out for some fate

Sometimes I think that I'll find a love
One that's gonna change my heart
I'll find it in Commercial Appeal
And then this heartache'll get chased away
[x2]

I was dreaming in the driver's seat
When the right words just came to me
And all my finer feelings came up

Always out on some witch's hunt
For the one who never lets me want
Before you know it it's all fuss

Sometimes I think that I'll find a love
One that's gonna change my heart
I'll find it in Commercial Appeal
And then this heartache'll get chased away
[x2]

Self-Love : The Economics Perspective

Alright, this is 90% cut and paste work, but it's worth a read.

“Man has almost constant occasion for the help of his brethren, and it is vain for him to expect it from their benevolence only. He will be more likely to prevail if he can interest their self-love in his favor, and show them that it is for their own advantage to do for him what he requires of them.

It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest.

Every individual neither intends to promote the public interest, nor knows how much he is promoting it.

He intends only his own gain, and he is in this, as in many other cases, led by an invisible hand to promote an end which was no part of his intention. Nor is it always the worse for the society that it was no part of it. By pursuing his own interest he frequently promotes that of the society more effectually than when he really intends to promote it.”

Adam Smith - Passages from The Wealth of Nations.

Main reason why I'm studying Economics. It justifies all kinds of evil in a logical way.

The Beauty And The Beast

Once, I thought this was beauty.



As I grew up, I felt that this was beauty.



Still, at one point in my life I felt that this was true beauty.



At times I was almost sure that this was beauty.



Then again, at times I felt that this was it.



But at then end of all comtemplations, I stumbled upon a truth. The truth that man sees beauty with the heart, and not the eyes. I come to realise, how volatile beauty is to the eyes alone, that man can choose to see beauty in anything and anyone when he wants to. At the same time, man can choose to not see beauty, at his leisure.

At the end of it, I realised that I still have not found beauty, because I am the contradiction of mankind. The beauty that I see with my eyes alone often stays, but the beauty that I see with my heart, is the beauty that is volatile. It is then that I come upon the conclusion that my heart is volatile, that I can never trust my heart.

And yet, when all else fades, I realise that I have found that beauty after all, where neither my heart nor my eyes cheat me. The beauty that resides in my subconscious. The beauty that is unchanging, in all circumstances. The beauty that is eternal. The beauty that is, love.

I have found you, beauty.



Thank you for your love.

P/S: Happy Birthday, Sis.

Earth To Bella

Before anything else, I just want to wish Mom,

Happy Birthday!

But this is not a boring birthday shoutout post, don't worry. There is so much to blog, but so little space. So many words to type, but so little time. So much thoughts, but so difficult to express. So, take a ride with me.

Many of you must be wondering if Rubella killed me. Well, no. I'm alive, and probably more alive than before. Yes, for those still in the unknown, Rubella struck when I had my Raya break. Basically, it's a holiday gone wrong for me. The only few days in beautiful Ipoh had to be spent stuck in my room, reading Calvin and Hobbes (the only comfort I had). But who could I blame? It's I, who hugged my Rubella stricken friend in the first place and stole the disease from him. It's I, who refused the vaccination provided by my beloved university. In exchange for a healthier body, and a stronger immune system, I chose the road not taken.

The road of Rubella.

Well, in the few days I spent itching, groaning, and cursing Rubella, I could only say I learnt nothing but endurance. It was one of the most torturing diseases one could get. You feel hot, you feel cold, one right after the other. Your throat feels so dry that you need fluid all the time. You can't sleep at night because of the heat from your body and the cold air from the air-cond. Your body contradicts and you suffer the consequences. Not forgetting the lumps, which stiffen the neck and it's painful, for goodness sake. Well, the after-effects couldn't be less worst either. I had a post-viral arthritis syndrome, where all my joints (fingers, wrists, legs) are swollen and they are kinda painful, similar to that of arthritis; the only difference being its temporal nature. Of course, as the rashes subsided, there was the itch which caused me two sleepless nights and thwarted my attempts at catching some afternoon naps. And one of the post-Rubella effects that I'm still wallowing in is dried lips. So dry, that it bleeds for no reason in the morning. The bleeding stopped by the way.

Many of my friends laughed at me, because I was laughing and joking all the time about the Rubella outbreak in my university before this. Some of them laughed, because they felt that I was "stupid" enough to refuse vaccination. But I, I will have the last, and perhaps, the longest and loudest laugh. Because at the end of it, I can point a finger at all of you who have not been through what I have been through and say, I did it my way. I made it, I survived, without man made, artificial immunity, which weakens the body's immune system eventually. I will laugh because all of you laughed at my wisdom which you labelled stupidity. I will live longer than every single one of you. I will be doing your eulogy. Muahahaha.

Hello Blog, Goodbye Blog.

No, I'm not wearing a straight jacket. I'm fine, thank you.

Rubella, Rubella, go away. Come again another day.

=)

Why Am I Only Able To Write Blog Posts When It's In The Odd Hours Of The Beautiful Morning.

There are two reasons why I can only blog when it's 4.00 a.m. in the morning.

a) I am nocturnal. I am inspired by the morning air.

b) Due to the extremely advanced WIFI technology of my beloved UM, the connection is only stable during this hour of the day.

Well, there is no clear objective or motive to this post. I am just floating about. So, if half-way down this post, you feel that it is not making sense, or worth reading, stop reading, and blame it on the morning air.

First of all, one of the urgent issues I would like to address would be the "Wadefish" issue. Around April this year, I gave birth to a monster named "Wadefish". From that moment onwards, "Wadefish" was seen everywhere, from Garena to MSN. What really was the problem was this. Nobody could understand nor pronounce the name properly without asking me an explanation. And so, what I get is people calling me wade ( the act of walking through water or mud ) -fish. Also, I have a friend who calls me waterfish, which, literally translated to Cantonese, would be sui yue, which would mean "scapegoat" in English. Confusing, yes, but the point is this. I need to clarify this so people would stop asking the same question so many times that it plots an exponential graph.

Before I proceed, there are 3 options you can choose to go from here.

a) If you're an overly free person, read this. If you're not mentally challenged in any way, and you're able to read and think like a normal human being, I believe this post would clear the air on the etymology of "Wadefish" and the right pronounciation that comes with it. Then, after reading, you can resume playing Who Has The Biggest Brains in Facebook, or resume nudging people in MSN, and need not continue reading this post, which by now, you would have found it to be rather stupid.

b) If you're an overly busy person, but so happened to be here because you love me alot and you're concern with what's latest in my blog, but you just don't have the time to read an old post which after reading you will find that it doesn't make sense, scroll down and you will find a summary which obviously functions to sum everything up, from the etymology of "Wadefish" to the right pronounciation of it.

c) If you're crazy and you know it, do all the above. *ClapClap*


Wadefish - The Etymology
The origins of the word came during enlightenment which I achieved when I spent my time meditating on how to make the world a better place for you and me to live in, and how to promote a cause in the world and improve the moral standards of humans at the same time. The moment of revelation created this urge to lessen the usage of words considered foul, rude, rough, uncouth, discriminating and denigrating in nature and at the same time, promote the noble cause of conserving animals, working with WWF ( World Wide Fund for Nature ) in achieving this purpose.

But how can this be done? As everyone knows, the act of killing two birds with one stone is logically impossible. And English came up with this illogical metaphor just to sound impressive, but then again, it illustrates the point to the point ( no pun intended ). And so, together with the board of directors, we brain-stormed for, well, quite some time I would say ( I don't want to exaggerate it so that this would sound real ) before we eventually came up with a brilliant idea on how to pull this off. The idea was to have people around the world to participate in a conscious effort to distort words deemed "unholy" by replacing them with names of animals facing the dangers of extinction.

I chose to distort the classic, most notorious, and the mother of all "unholy" words. Now, I can barely remember what "What The F*ck" is, for "What The Fish" has completely dominated the war I wage against the terrorism of words. And so, after a little adaptation, some adjustment, and a few touch-ups, "What The Fish" evolved into the now famous but often misconstrued and mispronounced "Wadefish".


There. That's a little too long for a summary, but I guess I'll have it. Why did I start the post with "First of all" when there is no "Secondly" following? Why did I say "one of the urgent issues" when there are no other issues I wish to address in this post? And why did I even mention that there is "no clear objective or motive to this post" when obviously I made a contradicting statement in saying that I wish to clarify the "Wadefish" issue in this post? Lastly, "I am nocturnal. I am inspired by the morning air" is a paradox, I just noticed. Now, that's what we call TRIVIA, baby!

And, voila! Another masterpiece creates herself in the wee hours of the day.

I never could have written this any other time of the day.

Hum Hallelujah

A picture speaks a thousand words. Or feelings.

I did not get the Sime Darby scholarship.

Once again, Scholarship won. To date, the score is 3-0.

It's time for a reality check, bro. What's wrong with you? The answer, you are not good enough. No, not even for a simple scholarship. You had everything ready, just the funding, and you screwed it up in the interview. Don't give interview-a-phobia as a lame excuse. You sucked, and you know it.

And while the 50 inside me rejoices that I'll be staying in Malaysia after all, the other 50 is killing me with derogatory words. Like the above. I keep asking the same question, Why? They were offering 20 places to overseas. 20. No, not 1 or 5. But 20. And I could lose out. I do not like losing. I hate losing. It makes me feel low. It makes me feel useless. It makes me feel that whatever I have achieved so far is of no value. I hate the inferior feeling I get when I lose.

It was 50-50 all the while. But I thought that if I don't get the scholarship, the 50 who rejoices would be the louder voice. I guess I'm wrong. Nothing, no one, is more important than my ambitions, my dreams, my aspirations. And therefore, the other 50 inside me is consciously puncturing my confidence now.

Maybe, it's time for new ambitions. It's time for new dreams. It's time for new aspirations. And it's all gonna be here, in my beloved Malaysia. God, I will swallow this with joy. And it's time I learn a lesson.

"God resists the proud,
But gives grace to the humble."

James 4:6

Shatter my confidence, Lord. Crush all my self-belief. Overwhelm my pride, my ego. For Your strength is made perfect in my weakness. Carry me to the lowest, for there will I learn.

And I will rise again.

The bowman could not release his arrow after all. Maybe it's time I try some sniping. Could at least kick some ass in COD4.

I'm no good, I'm no good, I'm no good.

"So Jesus said to him, "Why do you call Me good? No one is good but One, that is, God."

Luke 18:19