How I Discovered I Was A Mutant

14th June 2009

It all started on a calm Sunday morning. I woke up at about 0715 to prepare for morning worship in church. As usual, I took my bath. Before we continue on, let me briefly explain certain necessary facts. The water piping system in every house differs. For mine, the shower and the tap share a common pipeline. This means that the usage of one affects the other. For example, if I'm using the shower and at the same time, I turn on the basin tap, the volume of water that flows out from the shower head will be disrupted and reduced. It's a very basic and common theory; thus, never really caught my attention before this. However, a strange occurence this morning compelled me to record this down; in the event anything untoward happens to me.

Let's pick up from where we stopped. As I was bathing, I turned on the tap to rinse my mouth. As expected (inferred from the theory above), less water flowed out from the shower head I was holding. I carried on bathing without much notice until I decided to take a leak. I was holding the shower head while urinating when I realised the flow of water was still disrupted. I turned my head around to check if I left the tap running; strange enough, I didn't. And so, mildly surprised, I decided to put the shower head back in place. When I did that, things returned to normal. Dismissing some ridiculous ideas in my head, I concluded that the piping system was probably messed up.

The water was a little too cold in the morning. I turned the water heater on and resumed bathing. After awhile, a warm feeling enveloped my body. The joy of heater, I thought. It felt good at first but when it gradually grew warmer, I began to feel uncomfortable. Thinking it was the water, I tried adjusting the heat level - to no avail. Soon, the warmth turned into a burning sensation and I turned the shower off altogether. I began to freak out when the heat did not subside. In a moment of panic, I rushed out of the shower and managed to turn the heater off before I was barbecued alive.

I told my mom I wasn't feeling too well for church that day and locked myself in the room. In my towel, I sat and thought to myself. After one too many ideas flooded my mind, I could no longer sit and think. I plucked my courage and went into the bathroom. With one hand, I held the shower head. I turned the water on and the flow was normal. Then, I took a deep breath and started to urinate. To my horror, the flow of water was disrupted and significantly reduced. I was functioning like the basin tap! I did another experiment with the heater and achieved the expected results. I soon realised that my body hacked into every system I was in contact with and fused with it. Stunned and speechless, I walked out of the bathroom a naked man.

I do not yet know the extent of my powers in detail but what I do know is that I could no longer live in the same community anymore. I had to leave. I put some clothes on, packed my stuff, wrote a note, and left the house before my mom came home. In that note, it says:

Dear Mom,

I'm sorry to leave on such a short notice but it's a decision I have to make with a heavy heart. I'm not sure if you were aware of this or you were hiding my true origins from me all along. I found out today that I'm different from all of you and I could no longer live in a community of normal beings. If I stay, my true nature would soon be exposed and chaos would follow. I do not want to put the family at risk; most importantly, put you at risk with the authorities and the inconsiderate majority living in fear of my kind. I do not want to endanger you, mom. Time is running out. Live well.

With love,

Clarence.

And so, I walk a lonely road in search of answers, my brethren, and acceptance.

The road of a mutant.

The Conversation

Mr.B: Ya know sir, it's time we let them boys out by now. It's gettin' a lil' crowded in there.

Mr.C: Look, Mr.B, I told you. There's no place to let them out here, understand? I've looked.

Mr.B: Naye, sir. You've never gotten up from that seat of yours ever since ya sat down. I suggest we start gettin' up and go a-lookin'.

Mr.C: I said, I've looked! I saw people getting up, okay? Can you stop antangonising me man? Give me some space would you?

Mr.B: Alright, sir. Your wish is my command.

(A moment of awkward silence)

Mr.B: Say, sir. Don't you feel uncomfortable keepin' them boys in for so long?

Mr.C: Oh, for Pete's sake, Mr.B! Stop with the questions already! I'm not exactly having fun here if you will understand. But we've got no choice alright?

Mr.B: Them boys are gettin' more with time if you notice, sir.

Mr.C: Yes, I understand, Mr.B. I've done what I can to reduce their growth rate. Now, if you would just leave me alone for a moment, would you?

Mr.B: Alright, alright. Your call, sir. Totally.

(Another moment of awkward silence)

Mr.B: Say, sir. You wouldn't wanna push them boys to the limit. They might just break out in a revolt and embarass you, sir.

Mr.C: I'll be an old man for that to happen.

Mr.B: You will be one day, sir.

Mr.C: Would you just shut up? I'm young, strong, and healthy right now. And I have total control. There's nothing you can do about it so quit whining.

Mr.B: Not so much of me, sir. Them boys are doin' the whining. I'm just speakin' out for them.

Mr.C: Look, I'm the one taking the bumps and I'm the one keeping them in. What are your complains?

Mr.B: Ain't no complains sir. If you would just get up...

Mr.C: Oh, for the last time, Mr.B! I told you, this is an Economy Class! Can't you understand??

Mr.B: Alright, sir. Calm down. You wouldn't want them boys to spill out.

Mr.C: If you would just be a little more cooperative here, it would help alot.

Mr.B: How so, sir?

Mr.C: Just shut up, give me a peace of mind, and I'll let the boys out in a nice place when we reach later. You'd feel better and I'd feel better. How bout that?

Mr.B: Sounds good to me, sir. We ain't got no choice anyways as you put it.

(A last moment of awkward silence)

Mr.B: Don't blame me if I can't work one day and you have to let them boys out every ten minutes when you're 60, sir.

Try holding your piss for 3 hours on a train. You bladder would start talking to you too.

Dear Mr.W,

Grace and peace be to you in abundance! I bring forth rather unpleasant tidings as I stand before you today to speak on behalf of my people and me concerning a grave matter. I am not of the complaining type but it has been getting unbearable of late. I understand from my trustworthy sources that you are going through a rather rough patch lately but I myself am going through pretty tough times as well. Just for your records, it is hard to live in a harmonious relationship with you when your emotions fluctuate between two extremes. In the highly probable event that you disagree, I would like to quote an experience of my own for your kind reference. I believe today is a fairly precise example.

On a beautiful Sunday morning like today, it was cloudy. In fact, it started to rain in the eleventh hour of the day. I presume that it was due to your getting up off the wrong side of the bed. In utmost due respect and blunt honesty, I would prefer you to always get up off the wrong side because I have a personal distaste towards heat. However, as the day progressed, you felt better, again I presuppose. And so much better that eventually, the lovely day turned into naught but heatwave! Just in case you do not know, it is like living in a microwave; save the existence of a timer that indicates when the heat stops.

Being the helpless little creatures without much control that we are is the reason why I wrote this letter of appeal to you; to see if you may so willingly do something about this. But of course, considering that you are always subjected to Mr.E's conditions, we being the stewards of Mr.E, are in fact indirectly in control of the situation. This can be proven through a display of lengthy, algebraic mathemathical equations but I do not consider this course of action necessary as space and time consumption are two limiting factors that disallow me to thoroughly expound my theory. Referring back to the said issue, unfortunately, the joint effort of stewardship between man and man is known to be an irredeemable failed cause. This is precisely why this letter has to be submitted.

Therefore, in light of our plight, may you be so kind, Mr.W, as to show a little grace on your humble subjects by seeing to this issue and taking the appropriate measures of concern. This will definitely help erase the growing doubts among my people that you have become apathetic towards man and prevent our man-weather relationship from further breaking down. In the event that you fail to sympathise and emphatise with us, we will continue to pursue justice in a persistent manner. For even the unjust judge avenged the widow because of her persistency.

On a final note, in the event even our sincere persistency fail to penetrate your iron coated heart of ice, we will resort to more drastic means and violent measures to achieve our good intentions.

Sweating under shower,

Mr.C. 

Freedom Hangs Like Heaven Over Everyone

Try reading this. My attention span in studies is short; I couldn't spend more than 5 mins reading a paragraph. I'm going back to Ipoh soon (very)! I wish to express certain things bugging me but my blog is rigged; ultimate truths about myself often have to be supressed. Today will be history; it might be the only few times I ever step foot into Dewan Makan for breakfast. I would say it was a great week; futsal the other day was great and assignments are finally over.

Okay, that sucked. Sorry for the feeble attempt in writing a post with random sentences that don't relate to each other. Apologies for tormenting your weak minds. The blogging begins now. I couldn't sleep, didn't want to sleep, and so decided not to sleep. Tried reading Public Administration but I ended up here eventually. This is the first time I actually turn to my blog as the remedy for boredom; a fair remedy I would say.

The contents of this post were never intended. I had initially wanted to write a no-brainer. But I stumbled upon something intriguing as my post began to build itself with every sentence I wrote. These four sentences (including this) were written after the completion of this post, so here goes. As mentioned above, there are certain things I would like to blog about. But it is not within my capacity to do so. There is a misconception of freedom in blogging. People argue (and I for one argued too) that one's blog is entirely one's realm. What I choose to blog is totally up to my own discretion. Unfortunately, in the early hours of a Friday morning, I discovered it the hard way; freedom cannot co-exist with blogging. It's either or; one or the other.

I felt tempted, in fact, compelled, to write certain things but having in mind the people who might read this post and the consequences that might follow, my deepest thoughts, again, have to be bottled up. I did; I failed on countless occasions. Without taking into consideration the people who might be reading my blog, I exercised the "freedom" I thought I possess as the master of my blog. Call me impulsive. I made a stupid statement to my brother the other day. When we were discussing some of the things I blogged, I told him I never expected people to read my blog. It was only after that, that I realised how foolish I was in making a statement as such. I remember my other brother told me once, if what I wrote wasn't intended for anyone; if it's merely my self expressions, it would have been better off if I wrote it on a piece of paper, or somewhere only mine eyes would have access to them.

The blog is not an avenue for one to express himself. You can beg to differ, you can argue, you can justify your argument in many ways. But I will remain convicted; not budging; to this fact: Blogging comes with a price; and that price is the freedom of expression. A true blogger is a man in jail; he hath not freedom. Blogging is a public display of yourself. It's a declaration of your willingness to share your thoughts with the world. But the minute you begin blogging, readers that come with it have to be anticipated. And for every word you type, these people have to stay in the back of your sweet mind. In truth, the readers are the actual authors of the blog, in that they eventually decide the end product of every post. Blogging is, in fact, very much a performance. And like every other performance, you wouldn't want to disappoint your audience.

Comic Strips

I'm always a fan of comic strips. Here are a few I noted recently, and few I can identify myself with. Enjoy them, it takes the stress away, really.


A show of hands please, for those who feel for Dilbert. I can see mine.


Another comic strip which is so true to the reality in our cyberspace. Every one is faking their profile ( in a way ), to look good and appealing to the opposite sex.



Last one. It's such a wonder that people this stupid exist. But then again, if they don't, where do we get the laughs from? Another great one from Dave Blazek.