what if...

what if, being yourself - is not enough?

there's a whole romantic/bohemian notion about the only true link to happiness is to be yourself. accept yourself for what you are - and all will be good.

i s'pose the other maxim that conflicts with that would be, "not to settle for 2nd best".

what if being yourself is merely settling? some people suffer their whole lives because they refuse to 'settle' and keep trying to change themselves - and in the same vein, they just end denying themselves.

but i guess it's about changing yourself till you find 'yourself'. but some people just don't realise that they've found themselves. *there's a thought.

however, doesn't that bring us back to the 1st question? ie what if being yourself is not enough?

2nd question, 'not enough' for who? yourself or somebody else? if its the latter - as italian mobsters say - 'fogget about it...' but if its the former, then there's a serious problem.

the apparent answer is supposed to be that, it'll eventually work out in the end. the fatalist would say 'what if it never works out?'

it's pointless to carry on a conversation with a fatalist.



call me the bohemian / romantic type of person, cause if i became a fatalist - life would be way too long...

'nuff said.

'everywhere' is a big space to get lost in.

here's a little about me:

i am a law student (2nd year and trying desperately to get through to my 3rd and final year).

i am a part time kickboxing instructor.

i love playing basketball. i play football / futsal (indoor soccer) quite often because all my good friends play. in addition to that, i also happen to play squash, badminton, snooker, pool, golf, volleyball, handball, fooseball ... i also used to be involved with athletics - i used to run and also high jump.
primarily i only play basketball, futsal, snooker and pool now. but every one of the games mentioned above are games i have been involved in on some form of a regular basis at one point in time.

i like to write. which is one of the reasons i started this blog actually. anyway, i don't know how i fell into this little hobby but the fact is - i did. i hope to have something worth publishing one day. but we'll see...
in lieu of this, i also like to read. admittedly, i'm not one to be seen raiding libraries or bookshops but i can appreciate the craziness of Catch-22 by Joseph Heller or the beauty of Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream. i simply love the humour, wit and intelligence of writers like Douglas Adams (Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy - and i've read this book long before the movie came out), Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, and Neil Gaiman.
if you know me personally, you'd know that my all time favourite book is Good Omens by both Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

erm, i am also known to act on occasion. i am actively trying as hard as i possibly can to get involved with the local theater scene. succeeded 2 years ago. managed to get a part in a play which was staged for the public but i have been absent from the scene since then. it's difficult to find the time, and when there is time, it is tremendously difficult to get an acting gig (but that's a whole other story).

i love music. i picked up my guitar relatively late (only when i was 17) and have been struggling to catch up ever since. i'm not naturally inclined musically but i love it so much - that doesn't deter me. i learn to play as many songs as i am capable of. i'm getting better - slowly but surely. and as a result, i've been trying to write songs of my own ever since i got my guitar too - but only lately i find that i have some stuff worth attempting to put out to the public. so we'll see how that goes.

i also like to dance. i used to perform in all kinds of functions - anywhere i could get involved. it could have been a friend's church thing or a school thing or even just a little house party. i even took ballroom dancing with junoesque. i believe it lasted for a few months as well. and from what i've been told - for a chinese dude, i got some skillz. haha.

X

so, i'm involved in so many things that aren't really related to one another - i was once told by a close friend that i seem to be leading several different lives. how is it possible to mesh it all together? i used to think it was very do-able. of course, at the time i also believed that i am a person who was larger than life. i needed to lead several different lives because one wasn't enough.

however, reality has kicked me in the balls and i now realise that there is no way to lead all these lives without losing out in one or the other. and i am feeling the burn from the failures i've brought upon myself.

i think when i was younger - i actually thought that the more i could do - the better i'd be. so i did everything. as you can see from the above - i did try to do everything. that is why i call myself the commonjack ie 'jack of all trades but master of none'. or in my previous blog - i used to be dilettante - (because i dabble in everything).

thus, here i am, able to do so many things, not really sure what i wanna do. lost and confused with no real or tangible visions to really focus on.

i may be 'everywhere' but 'everywhere' is a big space to get lost in. and i think i'm lost.

mis-spent youth.(the choirboy)

as the wolf likes to say every now and again - i am a 'choirboy'. i guess i can't deny it.



don't get me wrong - i've done my fair share of shit. i've made mistakes. i've committed wrongs against others. did they deserve it? maybe some of them - but the rest? i don't think so.

i've f**cked up. i won't beat around the bush - some of these people, i will not be able to ever face them without feeling ashamed with myself. as cliched as it sounds, one f**k up does indeed render every other good thing you ever did before in the past meaningless (at least, it most certainly feels that way for the wrong-do'er, and when it comes down to it - that's the way one feels and that's what matters). the bigger the f**k up, the longer it will take to function through it. people say you should forgive yourself sometimes and move on. i'll move on. but there are some things that i won't forgive myself for. there's no rational explanation for it. it just is the way it is.

so where does 'mis-spent youth' tie into all this? well, i believe i missed out on my chance to f**k up and be OK with it. in our younger years, we're allowed to f**k up and get away with it. it's even a principle in law that if you're below a certain age, you will be let off the hook because you don't know any better. i missed out on that little window of opportunity because i've always been expected to act on a level of maturity higher than my actual age. being the youngest of 3 siblings, 13 years between myself and the eldest and 10 years between myself and the 2nd eldest, i've had to rise up to their level in order to get a closer relationship with them (or so that i didn't get the shit kicked out of me all the f**king time).

i was expected to understand the concept of 'privacy' at that age so i never entered their rooms without knocking nor was i allowed to do so when they weren't around. i never used their 'stuff' without their permission. i had to organise my own schedules around theirs because they had more 'important' things to do - so my needs or wants were brushed aside.

i'm not the typical stereotyped spoilt youngest child - although i do have certain *moments of being spoilt, as my brothers would most certainly attest to - they wouldn't deny also that i had a fair balance of responsibilities.

so yeah, sure - they went out of their way for me a a fair amount of times and i took responsibility for my own actions and also went out of my way to function at a higher level of maturity. and thats the way it is supposed to work. but i've never really thought about it till now... what do i lose in the trade-off? i might have lost the ability to give myself a break and just move on because i've been practicing an awareness of a higher level for so long that a f**k up is actually inexcusable now.

it's not anybody's fault, it's just the natural course of things.

it stings more when you give something your 'A' game and still come up short, very short. but what to do? shit happens - tough - deal with it.

my brother's friends used to marvel at how 'well-behaved' i was / am. everytime they expressed such a thing, my brothers would say, "yeah, he's well trained."

for example:-

i live in a double storey terrace house in a hilly area. so instead of having the traditional 2 storey house as the term 'double-storey' suggests, my house is split into 4 floors. in the old days when i was a mere wee lad of 5 till i was about 12, there was only one phone in the house which was in the living room (which would be the '2nd floor' out of the 4 - so to speak). once it was determined that i was old enough to speak on the phone, i was considered old enough to answer it - *all the time.

i was the official receptionist simply because i was the youngest and therefore it was assumed had nothing to do which leads to the fact that whenever the phone rang - whatever it was i was doing - i was the one who was supposed to answer the phone.

it's still that way but at least now sometimes, the call is for me.

anyway, i used to think that a boy has a 'rite of passage' to pass. we're mischevious by nature and have to get rid of all that mischieviousness while we're younger before we can become men. i don't think i necessarily had that luxury.

so that's why the wolf calls me a 'choirboy' - it's true - i'm my own worse critic. so when i do something i 'wrong', i feel bad about it. even if i had every right to commit the 'wrongful' act - catch my meaning? i'll still feel bad about it. i'm a choirboy because i want to do things the right way because that's what i've been taught to do.

take the harder road - the rewards are better. don't stoop to an enemy's level no matter how much the idiot deserves it. be the 'better man' who 'rises above' the pettiness of being a human. nobody's perfect, but that's no excuse to act like a stupid idiot.

so i guess ya - i'm a choirboy.

2pac.

if you take a look at my cd collection - you'd see a lot of rock. you'd see some bluesy, jazzy stuff. now you'd even see some chillout music, a little dance here and there, some trance-cy stuff even. some heavy metal scattered around.

but the one genre that would be scarce is rap or even r&b for that matter. while i like dancing to the stuff - it all starts sounding the same to me. in terms of beats and tune. i know it is essentially different - i just don't appreciate it as much as rock riffs from the classic guys like aerosmith and the older bon jovi you know? so the only way a rap and r&b song would affect me is through the lyrics.

"The Rose That Grew From Concrete"
Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?

Proving nature's law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet.

Funny it seems, but by keeping it's dreams, it learned to breathe fresh air.

Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.

for more, click here:- http://www.ewsonline.com/2pac/poetry.html



Tupac Amaru Shakur. (1971 - 1996)
some people regard this man as a poet. i wouldn't take that away from him. i'll give the guy that much. if today's generation can't get what the old poets like Keats, Shakespeare, Neruda and etc were trying say through their words - Tupac certainly spoke to the generation of today.

Tupac was born Lesane Parish Crooks and his Mum changed his name when he was a small child. Tupac Amaru was an Incan Indian Revolutionary and the name basically translated to 'Shining Serpent' whilst Shakur means 'thankful to God' - just like Syukur in Malay ( i think ).

for more of his bio, click here:- http://www.tupacfans.com/bio.php

although - don't get me wrong - he got caught up with all that gangsta' rap shit back in the 90's. back at that time, people like Will Smith and Black Eye Peas were nowhere to be seen. they did shit the right way. to them, it was about the music and the message they wanted to send out to the people. at that time, gangsta' rap was all about being a gangsta' - livin' the life. violence, sex and money. unfortunately, i think it was more about violence.

but listen to his lyrics. he wasn't propogatin' the bullshit. if you listen properly, you'll see, he's just a guy who got caught up with the wrong shit. and he couldn't get out. and he let his true self out in his songs and his lyrics. then he put up some bad mutha' facade to survive in his world.

i was just 14 years old when i was introduced to Makaveli (one of his aliases). it was 1996 - and i started listening to him right after all the hype from his murder was starting to die down. so i didn't get caught up with the fact that he was dead - then hop on the band wagon just cause everybody else was doin' it you know?

and man - his laugh ... you gotta listen to his laugh in his songs ... hahahahaha.

he made me a fan for life solely based on his songs and lyrics.

some samples i fell in love with:-
Dear Mama, So Many Tears, Brenda's Got a Baby, Soulja's Story, Life Goes On, Only God Can Judge Me, I Ain't Mad at cha', Picture Me Rollin', Unconditional Love, Hit 'em Up, Changes, Thugz Mansion, Broken Wings, Who Do You Believe In?... aih - there are so many!

but if i had to choose from the above. my top 3 would be:- I ain't Mad at cha', Picture me Rollin' and Thugz Mansion. lyrics wise and music. but if you ask me, all of his songs are at the top of my list!

so - this a small little insignificant tribute to the man. i hope that there is a thugz mansion up there for guys like him. a guy who made a small little impact on my life.

keepin' it real. muahahahahaha...

signing off, the commonjack.

Newspaper Article

i lifted this from the newspaper several weeks ago,

forced to choose...
i am a 15 year old girl. i met a guy, B, last year. we really loved each other. one day, he suddenly said he wanted to break up with me.

i was so depressed. i shared my problems with my roommate and she told me to forget about him. then she hugged and kissed me! i was confused. she continued to touch me and made me feel horny and we slept together that night. i felt good about it and realised that i love her too.

2 months later, B wanted to get back together with me again but i didn't have the same feelings like i did before, even though we had sex after that, it was just for fun.

i felt guilty and confessed to my room-mate. she threatened to commit suicide if i continued my relationship with B. i promised her that i would love her forever and live with her alll my life but i want both of them. i love them.

i think i should be the one to commit suicide so that i can be fair to both of them. please help me . tell me what to do.

-Next Suicide Victim, KL
_______________________________________________________________

my god - compared to this - my 'experiences' at the age of 15 were nuthin'. you take this short little letter which is 'allegedly true' - you have yourself freakin' good material for shows like melrose place or some shit like that.

seriously, there's love then followed by pain. then there's sex (lesbian sex at that!) and then there are words like 'horny' used - people talk about words like f*ck and it being a powerful word but they always overlook stuff like 'horny' which i think if said properly could be just as powerful.

then, there's love again which is followed by a turn of events where the old boyfriend comes back and then they have sex again but you know, it's just the traditional 'get-back-together' kind of sex. and then the lesbian lover finds out and threatens to kill herself because she loves her that much.

then in the heat of the moment, she says to lesbian lover that she will love her forever and that they will live together. (and they probably have sex again - but this was probably edited out of the letter thinking that - other sexually charged 15 year olds may come across this article and get 'ideas'.)

but then dillemma sinks in - because she wants both of them!

if this won't make a great 3(at the very least) back-to-back episode of some sexually charged teen drama, i don't know what will. plus, there are also in-built cliff hangers to end every episode. the 1st one can end with the lesbian lover kissing the protagonist for the 1st time...the 2nd one can be the ex-boyfriend wants back in...i mean - look at it - its all there! __________________________________________________________________

man - you hear about this kinda shit happen. and if you think about it - these may sound kinda out there - but then again, not really - doncha think? these are things that can really happen. i mean, i have no idea how you even get into shit like this but it happens. the thing is, if i were the one giving advice to this poor lost, confused 15 year old girl - i'd be extremely harsh.

my probable response would probably start off with a resounding, "Hullo! do you have any freakin' idea how silly your story sounds ah! how the hell didja end up loving this and then after sex - suddenly end up loving that?! then ex comes back - you figure why not go ahead and have some get-back-together sex but then again not really wanting him back to begin with! check that, someone made you horny and you slept with that person - suddenly you're in love with that person and you're a lesbian?! wait a minute - wait a minute, does this make you a bi-sexual...?"

then i'd have to catch my breath because honestly, all that would go through my head and i would realise that unless i really knew this 15 year old well - i wouldn't know where to start. i would wanna find out how people end up getting into this sorta shit in the 1st place.

claiming to be in love at the age of 15. it's a nice fairy-tale lah, but come on. i myself was 'in-love' when i was 17 but i didn't figure it out till i was like 20!

i figured at a very early age not to throw the word 'love' around like useless paperweight. when i said it, i meant it. every single 'letter'. if you use it too much - it just becomes another empty word with no purpose. in fact, it could become a vulgar word and just defeats its very purpose. the only draw back to the plan is that i'm afraid that when the time comes for me to use it, i'd be unable to for lack of practice. because lets face it, figuring out you're in love is hard enough - having trouble saying it just throws a whole damn monkey wrench in the works.

however, i digress.

and on that note, i shall end this entry.

signing off, the commonjack.

boy meets girl.

boy meets girl. boy likes girl. boy asks girl out. boy enjoys date and starts to like girl more. boy tries calling a few days later (because he didn't want to be uncool and call too early) - girl said she not free. boy tries again later - girl doesn't respond. boy gets confused - girl is nowhere to be seen or heard from and yet she's right there.

ah ...it's the classic story innit? take the hint bub - she's not interested. move on!

then the boy starts gettin' wide eye'd and says stuff like whatever happened to persistence and perseverance? the 2 great 'P' words which can only go towards proving to the girl that boy is serious. that boy is genuine. that boy will do whatever he can because he 'just that kinda guy'. boy will give the girl the old fashioned 'chase' like back in the 'day' when if a man said he wanted a woman (the days when integrity meant a 'damn' and it was worth keeping and more importantly people held such a virtue in high esteem compared to people 'talking' about it these days but not practicin') - it'd be like signing a binding contract. and the requirements of the contract entail that the man would be willing to do all that is appropriate and perhaps a little more if he really 'likes' the girl - to prove himself worthy. boy believes that girl is a gift that must be earned. boy is willing to earn her. boy is not in it just for a casual f**k. boy is no casanova but boy is real.

ah ... stupid boy. he doesn't think of what could happen when girl is just not interested. there's no fixing that. and there will be no remedy for his rejection either.

but boy doesn't care. all boy wants is just a chance. and boy believes that if all you want is a chance to see whether something 'could' happen. then you should be willing to accept the probability that nothing could happen. thus, boy will keep trying till boy gives up. the longer he tries - that time only mirrors how real his interest is towards girl. and if boy never gives up - that only mirrors the fact that he's one of those 'unlucky sonsofabitches that will never be with the 'one'.

ah - poor boy. lets hope he doesn't end up feeling like the picture below.



signing off - the commonjack.

Candlelight.

light is usually seen as something positive - things like truth. darkness is by and large the opposite - like lies.

i would like to throw in candlelight in the mix - which could be described as in between 'light' and 'dark'.

bearing that in mind, picture this:- you enter a room filled with candles. a soft wind is blowing ever so slightly - just enough to make the flame of the candles dance a graceful, flickering dance and its movements flow upon the walls and a vibrant display of silent shadows fill the room all around you.

what do you see? or perhaps what does it make you feel?

this would depend on your state of mind upon entering the room. if:

a) you enter with positive/happy thoughts like -

• romance (you're sharing a private romantic dinner with a loved one perhaps?) and the candlelight just gives the room a nice ambience.
• you've just moved into your 'own' new apartment which has no electricity yet ... and what you can see in the moving flames is a promise of what the future would be like in your 'own' new place.
• etc ...

OR

b) you enter with negative thoughts like:-

• you're in a haunted mansion and the shadows just freak you out rather than comfort you.
• there's a killer / rapist hiding in the midst and the where there is no light - there your enemy could be residing.
• etc...

so lets forget about option (b) for the purposes of this entry. i would think that by and large, assuming that you are no longer afraid of the dark - entering a room lit by candles is particularly nice. well, i like it. *guess i'm just a dark child.

following that - let us go back to the beginning of this entry where all things 'light' are considered good and all things 'dark' are considered to be bad. candlelight - which casts light on certain areas and provide shadows and darkness for other areas can be described as giving all things a 'grey' shade. things could go 'either way' in grey areas.

sometimes, you enter a room which is fully lit and you go, "Yuck."

then turn all the lights off and light up a few candles and suddenly the room has a whole new feel to it. what i'm getting at is perhaps life should be approached that way. allow me to explain -

as we get along in life, things aren't always just good or bad. so we are told that the best thing to do would be - to be wary of the bad stuff but always look for the good stuff. however, people tend to do it the other way around doncha think? i attribute this typical behaviour to always trying to view things as black or white ie 'the dark' or 'the light'.

what if you just light up a candle and let the light fall where it may and may the shadows let the rest hide in the darkness? perhaps the light of the candle will highlight the beauty(aka the positive) of someone / something whilst the shadows let the ugly(aka the negative) remain hidden. then you can work with what you see. this is how you can start off a relationship with someone or start looking at something on, as they say, 'the right foot'.

then as you get closer - the light of the candle will shine on more and you'll see what is hidden in the shadows eventually - then it becomes a case of whether what you saw at 1st can justify what is hidden or not.

(this could also work the other way round - meaning the light of the candle highlights the bad stuff 1st and you gotta get a little closer to see the good stuff - but this of course just makes the act of 'staying longer' to see the good stuff a little harder lah. BUT you never know, it could be worth the wait.)

OR...

some things will always remain hidden for candlelight can only cast light on 'so much'. and perhaps 'so much' is all you really 'need' to know. leave those switches to the pendaflour lights on the ceiling alone. because "can you really handle the truth?"

think of this famous movie line, "You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago, and you curse the Marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know - that Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives; and my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall -- you need me on that wall. We use words like "honor," "code,", "loyalty." We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said "thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand the post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to!" - fr "A FEW GOOD MEN" just in case you've been living under a rock or have never watched good movies. :)

because - sometimes maybe there is a valid reason why some things aren't said or told or even brought to light. (although i don't really agree with Col. Nathan R.Jessup's reason above - it does have a standard of cogency that has to be considered...)

another quote not as mind boggingly 'extreme' as the above - lifted from a nick hornby book, "if we told the truth all the time, then we would be unable to maintain relationships with anyone from the real world..." ie some things just don't have to be brought to the 'light' in order to make things 'real' and of 'consequence'.

signing off - the commonjack.

Feel what you wanna feel / Do what you wanna do.

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed
When not to be receives reproach of being,
And the just pleasure lost,
which is so deemed Not by our feeling,
but by others' seeing.
For why should others' false adulterate eyes
Give salutation to my sportive blood?
Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
No, I am that I am, and they that level
At my abuses reckon up their own.
I may be straight though they themselves be bevel.
By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown,
Unless this general evil they maintain: All men are bad, and in their badness reign.

malats like to say, "don't let other people determine your level of fun!" for f**ks sake - if you wanna go fish at a pond at 12 am till 6 am and sleep through the whole damn day ... go lah! who gives a shit if todays bloomin' crowd of youth who all try to be cool by hanging out at night clubs drinking, spending money, listen to the latest music and are so called in tune with the latest pop-culture think its "uncool"?

(note: for reference to what a 'malat' is - take the quizzes on HabitualDamnation's blog - or just click on 'malats' above.)

i shall now proceed to give you a 'line by line' interpretation of the sonnet above:-

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed
my interpretation of this Shakespeare creation is "be yourself". people are gonna think what they wanna think. so if they think that what you are doing is 'vile' - then go ahead and be 'vile' lah.

When not to be receives reproach of being
because the harder you try not to be 'vile' in their eyes - they are gonna keep thinking the same thing anyway.

And the just pleasure lost,
which is so deemed Not by our feeling,
but by others' seeing.
and then you lose whatever joy you are entitled to derive from participating in the event or doing whatever it is you wanted to do or feeling whatever it is you wanted to feel. and you lose this fundamental right in the worst way possible - not because you came to the conclusion that what you were doing / feeling was wrong or not appropriate but because some dick / c**t decided for you.

For why should others' false adulterate eyes
Give salutation to my sportive blood?
Or on my frailties why are frailer spies,
Which in their wills count bad what I think good?
what gives these dicks / c**ts the right to decide or even judge me? he who casts the 1st stone better be damn sure he himself / herself is without sin or be ready to accept stones to be f**kin' belted back! because heck - there are people whom i deem to be in a position to judge me as a person and this list is a short one. it should be a short one for everybody. but the one with the end say is yourself. don't let another 'frailer' spy on your frailties unless you think he / she has a right to do so. it's up to you.

No, I am that I am, and they that level
At my abuses reckon up their own.
you are the way you are and whomsof**kingever tries to judge you is putting themselves up for judgement at the table or reckoning.

I may be straight though they themselves be bevel.
By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown,
besides - for all you know - you may be the one who did the right thing - you may be the one taking the higher road although it may not seem that way at that time. and they are the ones who are wrong. don't let someone who has already judged you to be 'vile' long before you did anything or someone who doesn't really know you or understand the situation determine the value of your own actions / feelings. they are in no position to evaluate the value of your 'deeds'.



Unless this general evil they maintain: All men are bad, and in their badness reign.
they can however cast judgement on you if they admit 1st and foremost their own frailties ie admitting that 'all men are bad and in their badness reign'. if they judge you from a position of a peer ie they are not better than you but neither are they in a lower esteem from you - then a person is entitled to a valid opinion.

that being said - here's one of my own quotes - modified from variations of the same thing, "an opinion is like an arsehole - everybody has one."

*smiles.

further note: the above interpretation is entirely my own - it may not be academically correct. but i don't give a shit if it is.
it is the way it is - to me. btw: 'sportive blood' in the context of the Shakespeare sonnet is actually sexual in nature. just thought you might wanna know that.
in my own interpretation - i conveniently left that out because in my own interpretation - i've given 'sportive blood' a broad definition.

leave an opinion if you like - everybody has gotta have one. *grin.

signing off - the commonjack.

tiger stripes.

The Stripes of the Tiger form what is termed as 'disruptive camouflage' - they help to break up the tiger's outline. The stripes are not only present on the fur, but the skin also! They also draw the eye away from the true shape of the predator, a shape which prey species would normally react to.



when a tiger moves really quickly - sometimes all you can see is the stripes and nothing else. your attention is fully on the stripes. when you see the stripes long enough - one day - that's all you'll see and you'll forget about the colour underneath the stripes.

therefore, using this as a metaphor ( i'm sure you saw this coming - if you've been reading my blog ), the stripes is what you want other people to see whilst the colour underneath the stripes is the real you.

that being the case, usually, the stripes are easier on the eyes. it is less imposing. people generally would rather see the stripes. it is simpler that way. then everyone can sorta 'pretend' together and as Shakespeare puts it - life becomes one big stage and we are merely players.

sometimes people just notice the stripes 1st simply because they are the most obvious.

focusing on the stripes takes you away from having to deal with real heavy shit. after all - dealing with all that colour underneath is just a drag innit? facing it sometimes means dealing with personal issues, flaws within yourself, weaknesses - the real you.

this is not to say that everytime you focus on the colour underneath - you'd discover that you're actually this really shitty excuse of a human being - but it's an unfortunate and sad fact that when people take a real good look at themselves ie 'looking at the colour underneath' - it is normal to only see the bad stuff sometimes. and that can f**k a person up. so much so, that you forget about the good stuff.

that being said - stripes are real - stripes are also part of you. just like the tigers - the stripes are not only on the fur - it goes right down to their skin. and no one tiger has similar stripes. we all have our very own personal pattern. Tiger stripes are like human fingerprints; no two tigers have the same pattern of stripes. just don't forget about the colour underneath either.



that being said, stripes aren't always good. sometimes stripes gives a very superficial impression of a person. for instance, if guy X is always seen with a lot of beautiful / pretty women - it would be inferred that guy X is some kinda 'Player'. ( this would be reached on the assumption that guy X is not gay lah ) therefore, guy X's stripes is that he is a 'Player' and guy X may not necessarily like that. it's a superficial thing to label a guy a 'Player'. it's like labelling a girl a 'Slut' because she is seen to be changing boyfriends like she's changing underwear and the rumour is that she sleeps with all of them etc - i think a deeper look to the colour underneath would involve a question of why she is the way she seems. just like for guy X - guy X may consider himself more than the label of a 'Player'. maybe the reason he's always seen around women is that he's a nice guy who women happen to like? heck - guy X may want people to see past the stripes and realise the colour underneath the stripes.

-

then again - if you find that others seem to only notice your stripes sometimes - which is something you don't like - don't worry about it. cause there isn't anything you can really do about it. people will see what they wanna see most of the time. (whenever i reach a conclusion like this one - i always think of this Shakespeare quote - which is one of my favourites but not really relevant to this particular entry but i'll share it with you anyway - 'tis better to be vile than vile esteemed When not to be receives reproach of being, And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing.)

personally, i try my best to always look at the stripes (because the stripes are just as real too - they go all the way down to your skin) as well as past them stripes to discover the colour underneath and either accept or reject the person as a whole. that goes with my whole issue with being real and shit like that.

so there.
__________________________________________________________________

all this talk of tigers got me semi interested in them - i always thought they were majestic creatures.

here's some 'didja know' stuff ...:-

The tiger's head often carries the Chinese mark of wang or king on the forehead:


Tiger with wang mark on forehead - do you see it?:

_________________________________________________________________

there are also mixed breeds - "tigon ie mating between a Male Tiger and a Female Lion", "liger - Male Lion and Female Tiger" and there are also mixtures of mixed breeds!: "ti-tigon - Male tiger and Female tigon" ... etc. however, all of these are quite rare.
http://www.lairweb.org.nz/tiger/tigons.html



above is a 'tigon' - below is a 'liger' (i think).



tigons would exhibit characteristics of both tigers and lions - if you haven't noticed before, tigers and lions do not make the same sounds or let off the same 'roars'. well, the tigon would be able to roar both like a tiger AND a lion. neat huh?

also, tigers are more solitary and quiet as compared to lions. tigers also like to chill in water whilst lions not as solitary and definitely not as quiet PLUS they generally don't like water. but with a tigon, it's not uncommon to catch one of 'em standing - all 4 paws in water taking a dip every now and again PLUS roaring their lungs out!

don't know about you but it never occurred to me that there'd be mix breeds between tigers and lions although - now that i think about it - it's not really all that surprising innit?
__________________________________________________________________

there are also such things as Were-tigers! (if a Were-wolf and a Were-tiger were(pun intended) to go at it - i think a Were-tiger would win...waddaya think?)

The Were-Tiger cult in Myanmar and it's neighbours : http://www.myanmar.gov.mm/Perspective/persp2004/3-2004/wer.htm

Were-Tiger beliefs in Myanmar and Indonesia: http://www.myanmar.com/gov/perspec/2004/5-2004/were.htm

The Nature of Were-Tigers:
http://www.myanmar.com/gov/perspec/2004/4-2004/tig.htm

-

In Malaysia beliefs surrounding the Tiger shift more to fear and superstition. Myths exist claiming the existence of creatures known as 'Were-tigers'.



These are Tigers who have claimed the souls of the dead and can take on a human form to walk and even live amongst human beings. So feared are these 'were-tigers' that people dare not utter their name in case they should appear before them. Instead they are referred to as 'the striped one' or 'the gentleman'. (wonder what the Malay translation would be? The striped one = Orang belang and the gentleman = Orang budiman ?)

The Malaysian people have an old saying: "The Tiger dies but his stripes remain" ie seperti harimau meninggalkan belangnya ... i used to use this quote a lot back in the 'day' when i used to write 3 Malay essays a week to illustrate how when someone / something dies or leaves this world, the person/something leaves a mark on this world ie his 'stripes' - LOL - never thought i'd actually miss those times.

oh well - cest la vie.

signing off - the commonjack.

depression?

it's 8.15 pm. i could write about how my exams are going so far. which is not good. so i've decided not to. instead - here's a little entry i wrote about 'depression' quite a while back.

__________________________________________________________________

someone was once asked to describe how something like 'depression' hits and that person said, "Gradually ... and then suddenly."

What is Depression?:

Depression is a serious medical illness; it’s not something that you have made up in your head. It’s more than just feeling "down in the dumps" or "blue" for a few days. It’s feeling "down" and "low" and "hopeless" for weeks at a time.

http://www.nimh.nih.gov/publicat/depression.cfm#ptdep1

Signs & Symptoms:

Persistent sad, anxious, or "empty" mood. Feelings of hopelessness, pessimism. Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, helplessness. Loss of interest or pleasure in hobbies and activities that were once enjoyed.

http://www.nimh.nih.gov/publicat/depression.cfm#ptdep3

Treatment:

A variety of treatments including medications and short-term psychotherapies have proven effective for depression.

http://www.nimh.nih.gov/publicat/depression.cfm#ptdep5
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
when one is depressed - nobody understands. nobody cares. and you feel alone (whether you actually are or not, doesn't really matter because: nobody understands anyway.)

Some people say that depression feels like a black curtain of despair coming down over their lives.

you don't function well. people ask what's wrong and you don't know what to say. heck - they probably don't know what to say either. the most common reply that would be conjured up would be, "Hey, everyone has bad days" or at least some variation of the same shit.

i should know. i'm guilty of saying shit like that all the friggin' time.

some people act out very badly when they're depressed. hurtin' people they care about - hurtin' people who care about them. and they can't help it. they do it - then they realise what they've done and feel even worse about themselves for doing it.

and then they look for someone to understand but then nobody does or even worse - sometimes - they don't even give someone the opportunity to try and understand because they've already reached the conclusion that nobody can understand.

some people then begin to hurt themselves. and i would think that this covers a myriad of things. the instinctive things that first come to mind are people cutting themselves, substance abuse via drugs or alcohol and possibly suicide.

but i think there are many ways people can hurt themselves - and this is obvious although, i think, not necessarily the 1st thing that comes to mind when you hear the statement 'some people then begin to hurt themselves'.

acting out badly and hurting people you care about is one sure fire way to hurt yourself.

not acting out at all - and keeping it all in - that just f**ks you up. then it is like burning a slow fire. like the slow burning of charcoal, the heat is always there. and it keeps going. except in this case, it doesn't eventually die off like normal charcoal - here, it grows stronger and stronger with each passing day. and then it becomes a case of whether you overcome it or not.

-

when you're depressed, you don't know what's wrong or why or how even. you could think up a 1000 and 1 reasons as to why you are but none of it seems right. there's no simple truth/answer that makes you go "My God - I think I've got it!"

there's no big epiphany/realisation nor would there be any kind of lightbulb type of a phenomena, lighting up above your head. giving you the "Once I was blind - now I can see" scenario.

you think it could be a culmination of everything and that you've just hit the limit and it's all coming down on you finally. it was bound to happen someday - or so you think.

but then again - that's not quite right either.

-

i don't have the answers. and if you're wondering whether i'm the one who is depressed? well - maybe i am. :) but i think i'm just having one of those 'bad days' or some variation of it. *grin.

i have friends i can just act out on and then see again the very next minute sitting at the 'mamak' having a 3 am 'teh tarik'. which is a cool thing - i don't do it much ( i hope ) - but knowing that i can exercise such an option should the need arise - is a huge comfort.

and i think one of the major tell-tale signs that i 'should' be OK is the fact that i don't think i'm hurting myself in any way. well - i am (kinda). but nothin' out of the ordinary. (maybe i'm in denial! - LOL)

i shudder at the thought of putting up this sorta entry. people tend to over-react and shit.

chill. don't panic. this is just me 'living dangerously' - as the top of my blog suggests - 'thinking is a dangerous past time' - so i'm living dangerously.

and besides - if you've been paying attention - i've got all sorts of depressing entries...this is generally a 'moody / depressing' blog ... check out my Nov 2004 archives: 'giving up', 'You', 'when the good go down'. . that wasn't so bad - Jan '05 was worse: 'what can i say? shit happens - deal with it', 'beer tastes like crap' *a classic this one, 'feeling depressed?' and 'YOU win'. followed by Feb '05: 'and he goes down', 'let's all say it together...' and 'how to get where i'm at'. after that - i stated winding down lah - back down to my usual 'unhappy' self. *grin

signing off. the commonjack.

i am an idiot.

no really i am. not unlike most people i suppose but all the same - i am admittedly an idiot. i must be. there is no other explanation. i am an idiot. a big flaming idiot. i can't explain it. i thought i could but now i realise that i can't.

i suppose instead of going into a long winded discussion as to why and how i am here and feeling this way - you know - like how i normally do - this time i wont just 'cause i really don't feel like it. for now - i shall embrace this feeling. and say to the world, "World! I am an Idiot!"



after all - they always say there's nothing like accepting yourself as you are right?

right...

signing off - the commonjack.

Mad About You.

here's a little something. i set aside an hour to write this out. then i'm back to studying. aih ... why do i even bother?! anyway... read on...:-

i've written a blog post about this before. but it was on my old blog site ie mblog. and i have to pay 35 USD to get it back. so that was the end of that. i was watching Mad About You again - and i couldn't help myself - i had to write something down again. and this time - since i have more readers - maybe there'll be more participation. *hint hint :)

Paul Buchman & Jamie Stemple Buchman:








these 2 depict what an ideal marriage would be like for me.

for me - these are the lines that said it all:

Jamie: i just don't know why this is all so hard...

Paul: what?

Jamie: this - everything - marriage. it's supposed to be different from this...

Paul: says who?

Jamie: everyone!

Paul: well, they're wrong! it's just like this! (beat) it's exactly like this!

jamie: according to who?

Paul: everybody! i asked around...(beat) look, there's always gonna be stuff you know...but you put up with my crap and i put up with your crap.

Jamie: that's marriage?

Paul: this is what i'm thinking.

from the way they argue. to the way they work things out. from the little idiosyncracies. to the regular everyday stuff. don't get me wrong. both Paul and Jamie are way neurotic and crazy. they could get bothered by the littlest of things. i am not like that. i may be crazy but not that crazy. i would go out of my mind if i had to live with someone that neurotic. but of course, it was a sitcom. things were made to be really crazy because that's what makes it fun to watch.

give me the relationship of Paul and Jamie in small, healthy doses. and i can picture myself a happy man.

Q: who's your ideal famous/fictional/real/tv/etc relationship? and why?

come now - participate lah. it'll be fun. heh.

later.

signing off - the commonjack.

the really 'real' world.

it's 5.24 pm. this is how it is in the really real world....

a conversation:- between a Wise/know-it-all person/'could be anybody really' aka X & a person who needs to get a smack on the head aka Y ...

X: If you trust in yourself ...

Y: Uh huh...

X: ... and believe in your dreams ...

Y: Yes...

X: And follow your star -

Y: Right...

X: You'll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren't so lazy. Goodbye.

- the above was lifted fr The Wee Free Men.

aih...i need me a smack on the head.



later.

For Junoesque.

it's 2.50 am. believe it or not - i was studying. or at least trying to. i am so screwed - you have no idea. in fact, i was on the verge of 'breaking down' a mere few moments ago. so i decided to pen something down to 'relieve' myself. and i did! i was just about to transfer it from my journal to here - when i realised - 'f**k, this is way too depressing and intimate to put in here!" i'm going through some dark times right now - and it's not just 'cause i'm not ready for my exams.

so i decided, i'll just post a continuation of BEDTIME STORY for Junoesque.

anyway, here you are Junoesque. BEDTIME STORY was after all - instigated by you.
___________________________________________________________________

The young guard of Honor, Sren Rohno was devastated. This was his first mission and everything that could possibly go wrong, did. Sren had lost his compatriots, sustained some grave injuries and almost lost the Princess all in one night. And to think, his job was the simplest…he was instructed to stand by the Princess regardless. Thankfully, with the help of a stranger, the Princess was still alive and well. In fact, it is amazing how the stranger managed to keep them alive.
Not many people have enough skill to fend off the Beasts of the Wood without sustaining some injuries. And this stranger managed to keep himself injury free as well as save the lives of another two people. Regardless, a stranger is a stranger and around these parts, a good man is scarce. So, Sren had no rest either during the night. He pretended to sleep and kept an eye on the stranger at all times.
As he was keeping watch, he seemed to notice something vaguely familiar about this stranger but for the life of him, he could not seem to place it. The memory was in his head, fluttering around like a moth teasing a flame, just as he was about to get it, it seemed to flutter away again. While the stranger just looked up to the sky seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was being watched.

X

As soon as there was a hint of light peeking through the dense forest foliage of the Dark Wood he stood up and woke the Princess and the guard up. “Your Highness, we have to go. Make haste lest we lose the light of day.” Then he looked to the guard, “And as for you young one, I hope staying up all night watching me did not drain you of what strength you have left for you will need it before we get to the next town.”
Sren was speechless.
Once they got down, he grabbed Sren’s arm and took something he had been chewing on his mouth for a while and squeezed some liquid from it onto a deep gash Sren sustained while fending off the Beasts the night before. Sren felt a pain that made him want to cry out for his mother but he held it in and just winced.
“Sorry I took so long, I only just noticed that wound of yours. A little while longer and you would be lying on the ground gasping for air. Some of the Beasts wield poisonous weapons. You know when you get cut deep but you feel as though it’s just a flesh wound. The poison has that effect on one. You can give me you thanks later.”
Sren and Princess Sue were speechless throughout the journey. In fact, they didn’t even bother to ask for the identity of this mysterious stranger. Not after a long while when the stranger broke the silence.
“Once we walk around that bend up ahead, we would have arrived at our destination. Be quick about it, the sky is getting cloudy and soon rain will pour.”
The Princess and Sren looked up at the sky and saw no cloud. It was a clear blue sky and the sun was shining brightly. There was a slight hint of self satisfaction for Sren as ever since they first met this stranger, he seemed to know everything and it was starting to get on his nerves. Then it occurred to Sren and the Princess that they had no idea where they were heading to. Destination? What destination?
Just as Sren was about to question the stranger, the stranger stopped abruptly, turned around and said, “Now, from this moment on, Princess…you shall only be known and referred to as Sarine – no more Princess. We cannot refer to you as the ‘Your Highness’ anymore lest we risk being discovered.” He looked at Sren, “Please, just use your brains and blend in. Try not to talk too much. In fact, say nothing at all.”
Sren was infuriated but the Princess said, “Let us follow his lead for now, you are injured and are in need of attention. We are in no position to defy this stranger.” Then she returned her attention to the stranger. She grabbed his arm, pulling him back a bit as he was about to walk away. “How about you then my dear sir? What shall we call you?”
He just looked at her and said, “Sarine, you may call me Rage.” With that, he turned away and led the way into what looked like a little village.

X

They arrived at what looked like a barkeep. It didn’t look very appealing to the eye and the people that were seen hanging about didn’t look like hard working village folk. As they walked through the door, Sren noticed a broken sign board on the floor and scribbled on it with red paint, that oddly enough looked like blood, was The Lair. Sren did not like the sound of that at all.
They walked down a staircase that was winding and it was really dark. Sarine almost tripped and fell over Rage a few times. At the bottom of the stairs, they arrived at another door that burst open and a huge beast of a man stood there with a long scar across his face immediately opened the door and stood aside. He seemed to know Rage.
The little hut outside mislead people, the place was huge and seemed to be underground because the walls were earth and torches placed on the walls were not very brightly lit making the place look very undesirable. It gave the immediate impression that this was the place people who did not want to be found hang about. Rage approached a noisy table…well one of the noisy tables and it was surrounded by women, mostly drunk. And standing on the table singing was this man who also looked drunk.
“WOMEN! Marvellous women! What would life be if it weren’t for women!…” And he stopped abruptly when he saw Rage. As a matter of fact, the whole place went silent as Rage walked past their tables.
Sren overheard one drunkard whispering to another drunkard, “Why is everyone so silent?”
And the second drunkard replied, “You know how Scar got his scar?” The first drunkard shook his head, “Meet the man who made Scar’s name really mean something…”
The singing man climbed down from the table and pushed the women surrounding him aside saying, “Don’t y’all be worryin’ none. It’s just Rage, not d’bloody fairy-God Mummy…” He picked up his sword lying on the floor with one hand and holding a mug of Groob in the other. He looked Rage solemnly straight at the face, “’ello there Rage. Been a while since you came up to see me little ‘ole Gasion eh? Come to collect what I owe ya?”
Rage reached for his sword and the people around him all pushed their chairs aside and took a few steps back. Then his other hand reached out towards Gasion and he said, “Yes you little mud bugger. Gimme that mug!” and they exchanged handshakes as Rage drank up the Groob. Everyone else went back to their own business.
“To what do I owe d’normous pleasure of lookin’ at yer ugly mug of a face in ere?” Gasion was eyeing Sarine as he said this.
“Don’t even think about it Gasion. This ere is my distant cousin and her mute friend.” Gasion barely noticed Sren and paid more attention to Sarine.
“Truly…me finds it bloody hard to swallow that any person related to ya could be that fine a thing to look at…I’m impressed.” As he continued to examine her body from top to bottom. Sarine felt uneasy and it showed.
“I shall let that one pass my friend. I have more pressing matters to discuss and as you said before about collecting what you owe me – I am here to ask of that favour that you still owe me. Should you choose to join me, I shall consider your debt fully repaid. But first of all, I have not heard much of you in the past two years…how is your hand with the sword? Still on the edge or have you lost it?”
“Aye, ‘tis true despite livin out ere in the badlands, this village’s been spared from very much of the calamities that now rage – pun of course intended ! - even more now than before. But Rage, you should know me well enough to know that ole Gasion’s never really without trouble…in fact, I shall hafta giv yer a demonstration right now, me fears.”
At that, five big able looking men burst into the bar. These men were even bigger than that Scarface that stood by the door. And even he was overwhelmed. Then, from the shadows, behind these big burly warrior looking men, a puny man appeared and his voice was like that of a loud squeak. The squeak said, “Gasion! Step out here and face me like a man! You shall pay for what you did to my wife to be!”

He grabbed his sword and looked to Rage, Sarine and Sren , “Me won’t be long, have a drink. I shall be back rather shortly…” Then he jumped on the table adjacent to him and shouted, “Oye! Little squeak! A thoroughly unpleasant surprise to to see yer little bum in ere. D activities in which yer wife to be and me were engaged in were indeed such an activity that very much required both parties consent.”
Little squeak looked furious and ordered his men to, “KILL HIM!” And the five men drew their weapons and advanced towards Ronnie. Sren saw this and wanted to help but Rage held him back and just shook his head. So Sren kept his sword in it’s sheathe.
Gasion’s face immediately turned from that of a drunken man to one that was keenly aware and it showed in his strokes. He first went for their weapons and knocked one by one out of each warrior’s hand. They attacked him all at once and he then somersaulted over them and upon landing behind them he grabbed a mug of groob, chugged it down and then humiliated the five warriors by relieving them of their pants. The whole bar was laughing and guffawing at these five men. They rushed out.
Gasion then moved right up to the little squeak and looked down upon him. The little squeak looked around and didn’t like how things had turned out, he ran out of the bar.
Sren was impressed. Sarine looked at Rage. His face was dead serious, it looked as if he had come to a decision and it didn’t look like one he particularly liked.
Rage then got up and looked at both Sarine and Sren and said, “Come.” They left the bar together with Gasion. And Sren was a bit disappointed because once again, Rage was right, it was raining cats and dogs.

X

They ran across the street to another small hut. Once again the small hut was deceiving for inside there was yet another staircase spiraling downwards into the ground. However, this set of stairs was different from that of The Lair’s, this one was wider and more brightly lit. At the bottom of the stairs they walked past an archway that lead into a huge circular hall.
As they walked into the hall, Sren noticed a sign that said, “WELCOME TO MIA’s INN in the GROUND”. There was a counter in the center of the hall. All around them were doors that presumably lead into rooms. There were hundreds of them. From the way it looked they were thousands of feet underground! This place was colossal, and Sren could not believe it, for it only took them a matter of minutes to walk down the stairs. He closed his eyes and pinched himself and opened them again to be greeted with the sight of the same doors, levels upon levels of doors.
Gasion saw the bewilderment on Sren’s face. “Shockin innit? One’d be amazed to find the number of peoples who are inclined towards not being found. And this ere’s a wonderful place to get lost in.” Sren was still trying to swallow the sight. The Princess was equally astounded but her face did not show it.
As they approached the counter, a woman with long black hair and a shapely figure had her back facing them as they approached. “Ey there Mia! Ole Gasion’s ere to brighten up yer day!”
Without turning to face them, “Go away Gasion. If you don’t have the money you owe me from the last time you brought those lady-like friends of yours, then you will find no friendliness or anything of the like from me.”
“Hello Mia.” There were many people walking around in the shadows of the inn and no one seemed to take notice of anyone else, such is the way in a place like this, but when Rage spoke, time seemed to stop and people paused to look. Suffice to say, Mia’s attention was certainly gained. Sarine and Sren were feeling slightly confused about the whole thing and were starting to wonder about their new found protector.
“Rage? Last I heard, you were dead or at least beaten up to a point beyond recognition.” All this said with her back facing them, but she stood upright now.
“And you believed all that? I’m disappointed.” Rage seemed to be smiling.
At that, Mia turned around and jumped over the counter into Rage’s arms and kissed him. This seemed to take even Rage by surprise for he almost fell backwards but good ole Gasion was there behind him to give him a little hand. “Ah…lovers…it be mighty annoyin to find a pair so luving innit?”
Sarine and Sren were definitely taken aback, this they certainly did not expect. Especially Sren, Mia was beautiful, her long black hair did nothing to hide the beauty portrayed on her face. She had deep blue eyes that could just hold one spell bound. Except for the scar that she had across her left cheek, one would say she looked flawless.
Once they were done, er…reacquainting. “Mia, we need to be hidden away tonight. May we have a few rooms? I will tell you more in our own little room.”
Mia nodded and led everyone to their rooms. The last thing Rage told Sarine, Sren and Gasion was, “Rest well. Tonight would most likely be the last time you have to have a proper rest for a while yet.” No one questioned him. They knew he was right, even Sren agreed.

something to keep y'all busy ferawhile...

hello. well, i won't be blogging for a while. so to keep yous busy - i have posted up the 'introduction' to each of the 'long ass' stories that i've been working on. i've only finished SHAWN JOHN MICHAEL. it took me a year to finish it and that was approximately 5 years ago. wow.

BEDTIME STORY was something i started writing during the whole LOTR phase. i'm up to page 70-something and i don't think i'm even halfway through the whole plot that i've thought up in my head.

The Crow is a personal project. as you can see on this site - i'm quite a fan. so i'm writing my own version of it - a Malaysian version.

leave a comment if u like. read or don't read any of it if you like. if you want more - i'll try to accomodate. will recommence standard blogging after my exams. take y'all.
___________________________________________________________________


The Crow.

It was one of those days that seemed like nothing was going to happen. I woke up in the morning like I usually did. I knocked my alarm clock off my bedside table without any hesitation when it rang. I freshened up, put on my jeans and T and left for the Café Respite. That’s what I did every morning.
I got into my car and drove there. It felt like any other morning. And I thought it was going to be like any other day. But I was so wrong.

“Hey Danny, get me my coffee and usual breakfast man.” I said as I walked to my usual table in a little corner at the back of the Café. But when I turned away from Danny and looked to my table – I saw a woman seated with her back turned towards me. She looked like any other woman but there was something different. It was an aura of sadness emanating from her. I felt a huge sense of loss and it came from her.

It was then I reverted my attention back to Danny as he spoke, “Sure thing man. Getting it done as we speak…” noticing my puzzlement at this stranger seated at my usual spot, “…yeah, she’s been here all night. I would normally have reserved that table for you man – but look at her. She looks like she needs it more than you do man.”

And I stood there with Danny looking at her seated calm and serene at my table. “Yeah, she does look like she needs it more than I do.” I looked around and found that this was a busy morning for the Café. All the tables were occupied. I considered telling Danny to pack up my breakfast. However, I felt unusually drawn to this woman and decided to approach her.
“Excuse me…” I was a little taken aback as she looked at me. That aura of sadness and sense of loss seemed to amplify by the thousands as her eyes met mine. Her gaze felt heavy, distraught, confused and resigned, “…I’m sorry but would you mind if I sat with you?” gesturing her to look around to find that there is no other place for me to sit.
She looked to the empty seat in front of her and shrugged a positive shrug somewhat reluctantly. Meaning to say, although she seemed un-inclined towards the prospect of the company of a stranger, she was not all that adverse to it either. And so I sat.

There was just silence as I sat there with this woman. I could not explain it. She looked like she definitely needed to talk. But who the fuck am I to initiate anything? So, I just sat there in silence. I observed and analyzed her. She looked like someone who had just been through more than one should in a short period and was in the midst of trying to decide if she had come out of the experience with more gained or more lost?

As my coffee and breakfast came, the silence broke and she spoke to me, “It’s crazy isn’t it?” she asks in a solemn / ironic tone as she fiddles with her fingers and stares intently into her own cup of steaming hot black coffee. Danny refilled her cup when he dropped off my order.

“I’m sorry, what is crazy?”
“Life…”
For some reason, I felt comfortable having a discussion of this nature with her and I said, “Yeah, it sure is…” but before I could continue.
“…Life, death and love…” And she looks at me once again. This time I felt her sadness. It hung over me like a dark cloud erupting with lightning and rain. She took me to her sadness. She let me in.
And this was how I came to hear of this story.


In the beginning,

Approximately 2 years ago…

It was 6am. My second brother Neil came barging into my room waking me up for college. And this would be how he did it: he’d turn off the fan, turn the light on, pull my blanket off me, snatch my bolster and start whacking me on the head with it.

“Get up! It’s time for you to go to college.”

Once I sat up, he’d throw the bolster back down and leave for work. I would get changed and he would drop me off at college before driving off to work. That was the morning routine.

At the end of the day, I would go home and cook up a little dinner. Nothing too spectacular, I’d usually just cook some rice along with some stir fried vegetables, a variety of eggs ( I try to cook a different style of eggs every day ) and some meat dish. It could be Chicken Curry, Steamed salted Pork, etc.

Usually, it’d be just Neil and I. However, my eldest sister, Lisa came home for a surprise visit. It was a good surprise. She worked overseas in Singapore and she had some extra ‘day offs’ that she decided to cash in on. When Neil came home, he wasn’t surprised but he was happy to see her. She must have called him earlier. I’m always out of the loop.

It had been a really long while since we were all together. We used to have dinner together as a family at least twice a month since my parents died in a tragic car accident. We made it a point to stick together and know each other for we knew the pain of taking things for granted. All we had left was each other. We had a great dinner. In fact, we were having such a good time, we decided to not just let the night end like that. We decided to go out.





Lisa was really excited about a coming promotion. She had been working her ass off for the past 6 months and I really missed her. We only spoke on the phone and even that was rather rushed – more like a quick ‘Hello – how are you?’ – than an actual conversation. She couldn’t stop talking about all the perks she’d be getting from the promotion. She was going on about how I would not have to worry about money for a while so I wouldn’t get stuck in something I didn’t really enjoy once I graduated from college. Lisa’s like a dream sister to have.

Even Neil held himself back from the normal ‘brother-sister fights’. I could tell, he must have missed having her around too. Neil and I were close and we did talk and have fun but having Lisa around just made the atmosphere seem lighter somehow. Or maybe it was the mere fact that we were all back together again after such a long period of time.

Like I said earlier, since my parents died years ago – we always met up quite regularly. But the job offer Lisa got in Singapore was too good to pass up. However, her recent promotion now allows for her to be here more. She’d be heading up a branch of her office here in Malaysia. Things were going to be a lot better.

We wanted to go to the mamak in Section 17 that we normally frequented. However, to our dismay, the place was closed for some unknown reason. So, we went driving around till we found a place. It looked a little dodgy but it didn’t matter, we were together.

The mamak was a hawker stall that was set up on the outside of an alley and the tables were set up inside the alley, out of sight from the main road. By the time we found this place it was already 3 am. Anyway, we sat down and ordered our drinks and started talking again. Neil started talking about his work and the troubles with women he was having. I remained somewhat silent and just soaked in the joy of having the three of us together again.

I can’t remember how long afterwards, it could have been an hour later, this guy holding on to a duffel bag and what looked like a four year old kid ran into the alley and fell over some of the mamak chairs and tables.5 guys came up behind him holding butcher’s knives, chains and sticks. The 5 guys looked like typical street thugs and they didn’t look too happy.

At this point, Lisa got up and said, “Shit. We better get out of here. This doesn’t look good.”

So, the three of us got up, turned our backs against the scene where the thugs surrounded the man and started beating him up. I felt so angry that we couldn’t do more than try to call the police who would take forever to come anyway.



But just as were getting into the car, we heard the man shout in Cantonese, “Do whatever you want to me but please don’t hurt my son! He’s done nothing to you!”
This was where Neil said, “Hell no! I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself I didn’t do something. Lisa, use my phone, call the police. Stay in the car and lock the doors. Michael, pop the trunk!”

I knew what he wanted to do. And I wanted to go with him but I was too afraid. Neil was a big guy. And he was tough too. He used to kickbox and was a mean ‘wing-chun’ martial artist. He grabbed a staff which he kept in the trunk and ran towards the whole ordeal almost without hesitation. He shouted, “Leave the kid alone!” in Cantonese.

It was amazing. I’ve seen Neil training and even in fights before but those were merely tournaments. This was for real and Neil beat the crap out of the 5 thugs. They didn’t look like they could even put up a fight. But then a van pulled up and 6 more thugs came pouring out of the van. This was far too much for Neil. I knew he needed help and the police were still nowhere to be seen.
I couldn’t just leave Neil. So, I told Lisa to drive out of there while I got out of the car to help Neil. He taught me how to kickbox and for a while, we put up some kind of fight as we tried to escape but to no avail. There were too many of them and I wasn’t strong enough. The man the thugs were chasing in the first place tried to help but he was too weak as well. We were all overpowered and got beaten up senseless.

It was then I heard Lisa screaming. They must have seen me coming out of the car and stopped her from escaping! One thug was pulling her by the hair holding a knife to her neck as he dragged her over from the car to where the rest of us were. This was when another 2 men stepped out of the van. One was smaller and dressed quite smartly in a coat, shirt and tie – black and white. Next to him was a bigger man, muscle bound, bald and had a scar on his face.

The smaller sized one spoke to the thug who held Lisa, “What the fuck is this?”

“We were chasing Paul and he ran here. Then that guy (he points at Neil) comes in…”

He was cut off, “ENOUGH!” He walks over to Paul who was bleeding profusely and was trying to beg for his son’s life. “You think you can rat out on me, steal my money and then beg for anyone’s life?” He then laughs a sinister laugh and continues, “Ok, this should be interesting. I’d like to see you beg. Get up on your knees and beg!”

I was so angry watching this insane man torture someone but my leg was broken and Neil was unconscious. I looked to Lisa and her eyes darted back and forth, when I caught her eye, I could tell, she was too afraid to do anything. I returned my attention to Paul. He tried his best to get up on his knees despite his broken arm and numerous injuries. He props himself up and started to plead for his son’s life, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Please…please…you can do anything you want with me…(sob). I’m sorry…but please don’t hurt my son, he’s still so young…(sob)” as he kow-towed grimacing in pain each time he moved a single limb.

The man just stared back at Paul with a blank expression. And his mouth cracked into an evil smile as he sported a bemused expression. He looked back at the muscle man and said, “Lee! What do you think? Should I grant his request?”

Lee just shrugged and said, “Why not?”

At that, the man nodded and in one swift motion pulled a gun out from his jacket and shot Paul in the head, point blank right in between the eyes. I’ll never forget that sight. Lisa screamed as Paul’s body fell to the ground and his son was going hysterical, crying and shouting, “Papa! Papa!”

The man then threw the gun to Lee and walked back into his car. Lee walked over to the thug who was holding Lisa and passed the gun over to him. “Leong Chai, do whatever you want to these people but make sure they’re dead once you lot are done with them ok?” he said in Cantonese.

Leong nodded and grinned. As Lee drove off with the other man, Leong and his gang of thugs dragged all of us into a warehouse nearby. They tied us all up. They raped Lisa right in front of me. They took turns. And they raped her. I remember her screams but what I’ll never forget is when she went silent. That didn’t stop them. They still kept on pounding at her, laughing. She wasn’t dead yet physically. But I knew they had already killed her spirit. Lisa was already dead inside. Her face was blank and devoid of any feeling, eyes barely blinking as she stared at thin air.

When Neil woke up and saw Lisa being raped, he screamed at the thugs, trying to break free of the ropes and tape we had been bounded with. “NO! Lisa! NO! You fuckers…! Let me go! Stop!”

Leong then walked over to Neil with the gun. He looked straight into Neil’s eyes, looking him down – and Neil looked right back with fury in his eyes. Leong then spat at Neil’s face and shot him in the head. The bullet went right through the side of Neil’s head. He had turned his face away, facing me as Leong spat at him. I watched the side of his head blow open as his eyes were open as well – shocked and blank – looking right at me as his body fell lifeless to the ground.

My heart stopped right there and then fell. My mouth was open but no scream came. I was at a loss. I didn’t know what to do.

I looked up and saw Leong walk towards me. “So, you still studying? How old are you?”
I just stared at him defiantly. Tears in my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.

“Aww…crying like a little baby.” Then Leong slapped me across the face, “I asked you a question!”

I didn’t feel the slap at all. “I’m 22.”

Leong smiled, “Hey…same as me. We could be a lot alike, maybe even friends if we met under different circumstances. But you know the cardinal difference between you and I right now?” He pauses and looks at me, expecting an answer.

I was so angry, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.

“I’ll tell you. I’ll still be alive tomorrow.” And he shot me.

The last thing I remember as I went down was the sound of Paul’s son crying and the last thing my eyes registered was the body of Lisa lying across the room, motionless and then black.
___________________________________________________________________

SHAWN JOHN MICHAEL…

Once upon a time, in a land unknown to all yet familiar to many, there lived a boy...no...more of a man...yet not...so I guess that would make him a half man...oh there's an official term for that. Lost and rebellious as in...he was a teenager. So he lived his life...dangerously...as in he ate a lot of unhealthy food.
Anyway, that's another story. So, one day, he met this really beautiful girl...no...more of a woman...(I think you know where this is going...) she was a teenager. And when he saw her. Stop. Look. Cannot stop looking. *Dup, dup, dup*(sound in head)*ring, ring, ring*(also sound in head)...then AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"(sound not in head, from mouth) he fell into a manhole. A BIG manhole. Very BIG. And it was full of fasces (just a more 'canggih' word for "shit")...other people's fasces. He felt stupid. Really, really stupid.
Then...the workers working on the manhole pulled him up. Actually it was just one of the workers who helped him out. The other workers were contented with covering up the manhole with him in there. They still get paid anyway, besides, when someone finally realizes he is down there. The workers would get paid again to pull him out. But worker Carl decided to pull him out. As worker Carl was pulling him out, he accidentally tugged on worker Carl too hard and worker Carl fell into an empty part of the manhole and landed on his head. Worker Carl died.

Installment 2
But wait a second. I’m getting ahead of myself. You do not even know this boy, no more of a man…(I’m sure you know where this is going…). I have not even told you of his name. Which I think would be pretty important wouldn’t it? Especially this fella’s name. He grew up with it(not unlike most of us…). A lot of habits bad or good have been formed because of his name. How he thinks, acts, reacts, etc. has a LOT to do with his name. So since I have somehow managed to come to the conclusion that this name is rather important, I suppose I should tell you his name.
His name is Shawn John Michael. Bet you’re saying to yourself what sort of name is Shawn John Michael! Yes, that’s the same thing Shawn or John or Michael has been asking himself all his life. Especially after he came home from the first day of school when the teacher thought he was joking when he was asked to introduce himself in front of his class. Plus it didn’t help much when he couldn’t answer little Kathy when she put up her hand and asked him what they should call him. He didn’t know. His parents and family who is the only people who call him, usually just refer fondly to him as “Boy…” or if they were angry they would go not so fondly, “ BOY!!!…” and if they were trying to comfort him they would go…”Boy…Boy…”. He was convinced that the reason everyone called him that because they could never remember his name. On the other hand, he can't say that for sure.
Shawn or John or Michael…(which ever you would like to call him, I’ll just call him Boy). Boy stood in front of the class for a long while, and pondered at this seemingly very baffling question. And then he cried. Laughing. Jeering. Kids could be so cruel at the age of 7. Boy ran out screaming for his Mummy. Things took a turn for the worse when he tripped and fell over his untied shoelace. Boy never wanted to go to school ever again. Every time he saw little Kathy, he wanted to kill her. When he looked at her, his mind stopped and could only register one word at a time. It usually went like this in his head, “Little Kathy. Kill. Gun. No. Push. Cliff. Building. No.-“(I think you know where this is going). When a 7 year old starts thinking like that, you sort of wonder what sort of man he would grow up to be. Kids also used to call him the kid with three first names and that used to crack them up. Boy never ever, till this day found the humor in that statement.

Installment 3
Elsewhere, somewhere in that place not known to all yet familiar to many, lived a woman…no more of a girl…yet not, so I guess that would make her a half girl. There’s an official term for that of course. She’s confusing and gets a kick out of teasing the opposite sex. Some people would say she’s a teenager. I’ll call her an extremely attractive teenager. Somebody with the style of a Queen, the grace of ballerina, the body of Hercules…(just joking, checking to see whether you’re paying attention) and the beauty of a Goddess. Not just any Goddess…but the Goddess. This time I will tell you her name first. It wasn’t an odd name. It wasn’t a spectacular name. It was just a name. Her name is Katherine Lee Bonk. I bet you just went, ”Katherine Lee what?” and my reply will be, “Katherine Lee Bonk.” Yes I did just say "Bonk".
I would go on and tell you her life story about how and why her parents named her Katherine Lee Bonk. There actually isn’t a “Bonk” in the family name. But the mother and father thought it appropriate to put “Bonk” in her name without thinking about the difficulties Katherine might face whenever she tries to introduce herself. There’s actually a really funny and interesting story attached to “Bonk”. But that’s another story.
Anyway, Katherine was walking along a street on her way to a party. She looked good, as usual. Good is really an understatement. She looked great. Super great. Greatness incorporated. But I’m getting carried away. I’m guessing you get my drift. Let’s just put it this way. She has the type of looks that would make any average ‘Joe’ with a low self-esteem problem go like this…”Stop. Look. Cannot stop looking. *dup, dup, dup*(sound in head)*ring, ring, ring*(also sound in head)...then "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"(sound not in head, from mouth)”. Sound of mouth usually comes when the average ‘joe’ runs into a lamp post or maybe falls into a manhole on the street.(hmm…sounds familiar no?)
___________________________________________________________________

Bedtime story...

This is a tale of long ago, in a realm long forgotten. ‘tis a realm not much different than of our own but simpler. The name of this realm just like its existence is also long forgotten. However, it is known that it mainly divided into two parts, namely the Goodlands and the Darklands. Very few areas of this realm were in between. There were many struggles and wars fought among the inhabitants of both lands trying to defend or expand what land they already hand. The tale you are about to hear, is merely one of the few great ones.

The air was cold, the night was silent but the moon was shining bright. ‘twas so bright that the light illuminating from it was enough to light the path of a lonely traveler through the Dark Woods. However, in his haste, he did not notice a hint of mist starting to materialize. Soon the moon would be shrouded, and then this lonely traveler will then come to realize once again why the Dark Woods was given its name.

It was imperative for this to take place; this was something she knew all too well. Without the union of the two kingdoms, both will surely fall unto the hands of the dark forces that were rebuilding themselves somewhere in the Darklands. She was a Princess, thus meaning she would have to sacrifice certain things in the interest of keeping her kingdom safe.
She is well aware that her father, King Satur, ruler of the kingdom of Bravado, has tried every other means of gathering a force formidable enough to face the imminent rising of the dark forces. But nothing he did seemed to be enough. So, the only way was to marry off his precious daughter to the somewhat unruly King Beasely, ruler of the kingdom of Nautease. Nautease was a place where people who did not want to be found go to in the Goodlands. It was the only place in the Goodlands that would entertain those who did not want to be found. King Beasely was never known as a trustworthy King, so he always had a formidable size of an army but even he knew that it was sheer lunacy trying to face down the forces of darkness alone.
He needs the union just as much as the kingdom of Bravado needed it, but King Satur was a simple man and was tricked into believing that he did not and as a gesture of good faith, he promised his daughter Princess Sarine to him, the fairest Princess of all Kingdoms.
Thus, explains Princess Sarine’s journey to the kingdom of Nautease. Because of the urgency of this union, her route of travel had to be the quickest and the quickest way was to go through the Dark Woods. However, there are parties who do not want this union to take place, so she was traveling with light armor and very few but skilled guards of Honor. This was to avoid any sort of unnecessary attention.
Traveling through the Dark Woods is always dangerous but the beasts stay in if the moon is bright and according to the relevant calendars, tonight was supposed to be the night of the brightest moon. The guards were to busy trying to get out of the Woods as quick as they could, they did not notice a mist starting to form.

It began to get cold, the lonely traveler noticed the air start to stiffen as a light shade of a mist began to form right before his eyes and finally noticing the waning moon, he knew that he would not be able to make it out of the wood before total darkness engulfs all light and the Beasts of the Wood begin to roam.
Nobody has ever faced the Beasts of the Wood and lived to tell the tale. Myth has it that the Beasts used to be human. They were mean and ruthless men of riches and sold their souls to Evil in order to gain wealth. The Dark Woods was where these people ended up when their time was up in the land of mortals. They were cursed to roam the Woods for all of eternity not as the dead or the undead; they will always be in a state of limbo, one foot in and one foot out.
There was only one way to avoid these Beasts of the Wood, one would have to find the tallest tree that is closest and climb it and stay there till daybreak and hope that the Beasts do not suddenly decide to look up in your tree. The lonely traveler looked around and found one that was not as tall as he would want, but noticing the moon disappearing from the sky and the mist forming rapidly, muttering to himself, “Beggars can’t be choosers…” he climbed the tree and sat upon the thickest branch he could find.

The Princess began to notice that her carriage was beginning to pick up speed and the sense of urgency emanating from the guards seemed more apparent. They have finally noticed the rapidly forming mist and the dissipating light from the moon, soon it would be dark and nobody wants to remain in the dark wood when darkness overwhelms the light.
Princess Sarine was well aware of the dangers that lurk in the dark wood after dark. She queried her guards whether they would be able to make it out on time before darkness arrives. They seemed confident. So she remained calm.

This was not the lonely traveler’s first time being stuck in Dark Woods after light makes way for the dark. In fact, he still remembers vividly his close encounter with a Beast of the Wood. He was merely a few steps away before he was out of the jungle when darkness fell. Suddenly a figure, humanoid in form appeared directly in front of him blocking his path. It was a hooded figure with it’s back faced to him.
The lonely traveler’s instincts told him that this was no mortal. So his step became swifter as he walked around this hooded figure hoping to get by, but the figure reached out and held the traveler by his shoulder. With one swift motion the traveler unsheathed his sword and cut the figure’s arm off and ran towards the light outside of the jungle. He did not look back but he was very sure that the figure was right behind him all the way. He made it out and that was all that mattered. He heaved a sigh of relief thanking God for letting him live for another day.
Just then, darkness came and he heard the sounds of hooves and a moving carriage.

The guards began to panic. Darkness had arrived and they were nowhere near the edge of the jungle. They did not know how to face the Beasts of the Wood. However, they were the best of the best from where they came from. As of yet, they have not faced anything that they were unable to overcome. Hence, they felt that they would be able to rise to the occasion if they had to face these Beasts.
All of a sudden, the carriage stopped. Princess Sarine heard nothing. She tried to peer through the crevices of her carriage but the guard inside told her not to do so. But he looked outside.

He could see it all from where he was situated up in the tree. It would all be over in a matter of minutes. A band of five men is definitely not enough to face the Beasts. Normally, he would just leave foolhardy men such as these to their own fate. But then, he noticed the carriage door open and he saw Princess Sarine and everything suddenly made sense. He had heard about the fixed marriage and he thought they were only rumors. Besides he gave the King’s guard a little more credit because he thought they would have been against traveling through the Dark Woods.
Obviously, he was wrong. This lonely traveler has done a lot bad deeds in his life, most of which, he can never be redeemed. But this was too much; he had to do something. He saw the bushes rustling not very far away; he knew time was short. He had to act quickly or all would be lost.
He leapt off the tree and made a run for the carriage.

Before they could react, hooded figures were appearing out of the darkness. In a matter of seconds, the carriage and guards were surrounded instantly. There was no way out. Ten hooded figures wielding weapons from swords, axes, spears and such were just standing there. They did nothing.
Then a gust of wind blew. It was as cold as the chill of a winter’s morning and the stench of death reeked from the surroundings. And the within the wind, it seemed to say, “…kill…” a chilling whisper.
And they attacked.
It was gruesome. The Kings guards were men of honor and great skill. They put up an awesome fight. They managed to kill off 6 of the hooded figures before the remaining four finished them off. The remaining guard tried to lock himself and the Princess within the carriage. But the 4 Beasts were too strong. They pulled the carriage doors open and dragged the guard out.
The guard was fending them off as best he could.

Just as the guard was about to be slashed from behind, the lonely traveler arrived and killed the Beast and proceeded to help kill off the rest. The guard stumbled away as the lonely traveler took over. His skill with the sword was amazing. It was as if the sword was an extension of his arm. The strokes were flawless and swift. And within moments, the remaining 3 Beasts were defeated.
The lonely traveler then turned and faced the guard and Princess and said, “I must have lost my mind. Come, we must go, climb that tree.” They were just about to ask why when he said, “Don’t ask! There’s no time. More will come! Just do as I say if you want to live!”
The guard was injured and was unable to carry the Princess up the tree. Without any hint of hesitation, the traveler came and instructed the Princess to get up his back as he carried her up the tree.
When they reached a big branch where they could rest, the traveler said, “We’ll be safe here. Just be quiet and rest. You will need your strength. The Princess and guard had enough for one night. They did exactly what he said.
As they fell asleep, the lonely traveler looked out into the dense jungle of the Dark Woods and hoped to God that the Beasts do not decide to look up this tree. He looked down on the bodies of the slain Beasts…they were no longer slain. They were up again and they just retreated back into the darkness.
He knew there was a long journey ahead. This will be a gargantuan task. He did not sleep that night.