The Witching Hour

ngkau bodo

Tue, 09 Dec 2008 06:24:14 GMT

WAHEI!

Aku dah lama tak hapdet dow.... And why? Cos some people have to WORK and make money... OK? Bukan segala-galanya manusia alam ni boley duk bawah ketiak mak bapak tumpang satu rumah sampai tua bangka anak tiga harapkan kaseh sayang mak nak suap nasik jer tau....

And then dah la penat nak mampos, hari hari drive 45 menet dari umah ke opis, dari opis ke umah. Pastu bila kat hopis, lari ke hulu hilir sebuk nak habiskan keje sampai tetiba EH! dah malam!?

Ada lah sesetengah kekanak ribena ni kan, hari tu masa I kena handle 2 events in 2 states in one day by myself tu kan, punya la lama nak prepare, punya la stress kan, nak prepare, oh my god bukannya korang paham, so by the time the event was over, I WAS SO THANKFUL and I drove back home and member aku masa tu (sekarang dia dah bukan member lagi dah, sebab kebodohannya ternyata terselah), dia pown seorang kanak2 ribena gak.

Jadi aku pun terus proceed tido selama TIGA BELAS JAM sebab penat dari stress kerja ni, cik cik adik yang berlagak bijak pandai dengan 30A1 semua taik apa benda, sebenarnya is not only draining physically. It is also mentally and emotionally.

Ini lah sebab nye, masa college dulu, you all penat chamana pown, boleh lagi keluar clubbing boley lagi bangun awal. Time kerja, by the time dah sampai umah tu, thank God jer lah ye, and terus berdengkur. Bukannya aku nak kata masa college tu you all takde akal, tapi, masa college tu, you will be receiving input and you don't have to think and 'brainstorm' and focus and do tiga juta benda sekali and concentrate 24/7 or risk getting reprimanded by your boss!

Eh jangan nak argue la ok, aku tau la I went to college before and I am wokring now for the 6th year!

Melainkan awak kerja gomen. Then lain lah ok.

Corporate Communications lain. Ok.

So kawan aku yang bebudak ribena tu kan, esok hari nya dia kata kat aku, "Jom gi clubbing". Then I say "aku tak larat. masih penat from stress events tu"... And this kanak2 bodo ni kata "EH COME ON LA. YOU SLEPT FOR 13 HOURS ALREADY OK!"

EH!

SUKAHATI MAK BAPAK AKU LA KAN AKU NAK TIDO 2345 JAM KE, NAK MATI KE NAK TERGOLEK KE, NAK TUNGGAN LANGGANG KE! KO KANAK2 RIBENA BARU 21 TAHUN KO PAHAM KE KEPENATAN WAKTU KEJE??!!

Pastu kan, ada harti nak ADVISE aku ni. Dia kata "I have class also from 10-2 everyday and I am ok!!!

Kena la dia dgn bisa aku yang amat menyakiti ini... Bodo punya manusia. At least ngko boley bangun kul 9. Ko jalan ke college. Bukan mcm kitorang semua kene beratur dalam jam nak masuk opis seblom kul 9 kalau tak kena maki hamun dgn bos!

At least ngko kalau mengantuk dalam kelas boley tido! Aku, nak pegi TOILET pun takde time ni gak nak try tido!? Last last kena buang keje kang! Sapa nak bayar bill rumah, bill kereta?

At least ngko boleh balek kul 2 petang. Kitorang ni? Habis konon kul 6pm. Tapi dengan kerja yang bertimbun timbun nampak nya keluar pukul 8 lah ni.... At least tak sangkut kat jam.

Ada plak jenis kanak2 ribena yang nak paksa paksa kita keluar lepas waktu keje, walaupun kita dah bagi tau dia kita penat, dan belakang semua sakit2 from stress. Ni lah dia akibat berkawan dgn kekanak yang minum jus bodow.

Sebenarnya I am PMSing and aku tengah benci dengan semua kanak2 ribena yang tak paham the horrors of working life. Pastu self-righteous nak ajar kitorang yang dah bertahun dah kerja. Pegi mampos la wei.

Go f*ck yourself with a showerhead. Or a double-headed d1ld0. Hahahahahahah.....

Btw - I have been so busy at work that I had to give my dog back. And that broke my heart. Try to imagine being so busy that you have no time even for yourself, and you had to give up the one thing you loved the most in this world. That is usually, the working scene in KL.

End.

An Age Old Truth

Fri, 10 Oct 2008 06:59:41 GMT

I HATE MEN.

YES.

ALL OF THEM*

AND YES ALL OF YOU ARE ALL THE SAME.

BALLESS AND SPINELESS.

NONE KNOW THE MEANING OF NOBILITY OR COURAGE, TRUTH OR HONESTY.

GO AHEAD AND WHINE AND CALL ME A BITCH (COS I AM) AND SAY WHATEVER YOU WANT. IT WON'T FUCKING CHANGE MY MIND.

ASSHOLES.

*Except for those select few who have gained my trust and become long-term friends and/or my family members.

Here we go again

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 06:04:50 GMT

I hate this city.

I hate my mind.

I hate how its screwing me over and making me so lost inside.

I am so angry.

But so sad at the same time.

I wanna fight. But I also want to be held.

Kissed, pampered, loved, held high.

You want to help me? Leave me alone. Spare me from the inevitable end of me hating myself more.

I don't know who to blame.

I don't know if its just me or everyone else.

The voices in my head won't stop. The bottle appears to numb the pain.

I guess it is my fault. For holding on to everything that ever come into contact with me.

Thats not normal.

Right?

So what is normal?

Being close to someone and leaving them when you get bored? Is that normal?

Looking to be with someone only for physical satisfaction. Is that normal?

I guess one normal part of me still exists. The part that lets me know what the end would be like.

But the crazy twisted warped part says GO, cos we like it. Cos we sadistic. Cos we enjoy the hurt and the pain that comes with it.

So what the fuck do I do now.

McDelivery Dicks

Tue, 30 Sep 2008 04:49:51 GMT

That day I screamed at the McDonald's delivery guy.

Har har har.

I woke up, hungover as hell. And realised that my lifeline (coffee) has depleted. Duh.

So, being so bloody hungover, I decided to ask Ronald to deliver a cup of coffee to me.

No problem, they said. Its not an issue, they said. Sure, ma'am, they said.

So I lay around in my underwear in front of the TV with the dog and the cat running around below me and hastily threw on some clothes when the doorbell rang.

Can you say rempit.lookalike. ?

Its ok, I thought. He is just delivering. I thought.

I handed him 10 bucks.

The fella, being the typical description of everything I hate about that particular category of people, (trying to be diplomatically correct), sighed dramatically, leaned on one arm against my grill, swept back his disgusting Tancho covered hair, checked his pouched, sigh dramatically again, looked at the ceiling and back at me with this sleepy stupid expression and said "Takde duit tukar".

Lol.

He didn't know he said the wrong thing to the wrong person.

I said, that.is.not.my.problem. Go.back.and.get.change.

He said no.cos.its.far.

My voice got dangerously low and I said, I.am.not.gonna.donate.rm4.to.you.cos.you.are.a.lazy.dick.

He then proceeded to repeat the entire sighing-hair-sweeping-eye-rolling ala-ala Drama Minggu Ini alllllll over againnnn!

I called his supervisor.

Ha ha ha.

Then I told him, wait.here.while.i.call.your.supervisor.

Who LAUGHED when I told him to send his staff for training at Dominos (cos he seem to understand what I was facing at my front door at that minute) and that I refuse to donate RM4 to a lazy prick who wasn't gracious/polite/apologetic.

If he was all of the above, I would have.

Also cos he was a rempit. And i HATE rempits.

Anyways, they sent someone else to me. Because the rempit RAN AWAY.

Yup, you got it. RAN.AWAY.from.his.responsibilities.

I still remember that stupid look he had on his face and that entire drama minggu ini gimmick he did after every question I asked and I had to wait a full minute before getting an answer from him.

I enjoy making lives miserable for stupid lazy dicks.

Happy Raya everyone :)

Har har har.

The 50 Cent Coin

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 06:24:30 GMT

I love the Malaysian 50 cent coin.

*Image by Andrew Dyer/Flickr

I love how its so round... so, so wholesome. How it feels "full" when you hold it in your palm and squeeze it shut. I love how it makes my coin purse feels heavier, and how it shines brightly like a tooth after a good dose of Colgate... glittering brightly among all the lesser coins in the depth of the coin purse.

I love the sound it makes as it slides against all the other 50 cent coins. You try it... The sound it makes is different from the sound that any other coins make.

It reminds me of my favourite fruit, the watermelon, cos the watermelon is the roundest, most "happening" fruit yet. The watermelon always makes a shopping basket look full. It completes a fruit centrepiece. Well, either that or the pineapple. Just like a Mr Potato Head, the 50 cent coin doesn't do much, but is most interesting due to its size and "roundness".

Even when we had that gold one ringgit coin, the 50 cent coin is still my favourite. I never mind it when I have to mix my 50 cent coins with the notes. "Oh its ok for the 50s to mix with the higher ranking notes cos it is almost there and not really quite a coin" goes the general idea.

When I was a kid, an amah from my grandma's household caught me sobbing (or in Malay, menangis terngongoi-ngongoi) in the corner cos everyone else went out and refused to let me follow.

I tried to follow them into the van but they pushed me out. Someone yelled at me to go away. So I cried in the corner.

The amah found me and told me to stop crying and she will give me a present. I looked up long enough to see her placing a shiny new 50 cent coin into my little palm.

I stopped crying.

The coin looked so nice and cosy sitting in my little palm, almost covering the entire palm as my little fingers stuck out on all sides. It wasn't the value of the coin that shut me up, it was just the shiny-ness, the feel and the look of the coin that distracted me long enough for me to get off my ass and stopped crying. For the rest of the day, I carried that 50 cent coin in my pocket as I played alone in the garden.

The weight of the coin is just right, I think, to make one feel fulfilled. It is heavier than most coins, and even though it can only, today, buy a few sweets and tissue papers, it still makes me feel richer than a wad of notes can.

You can try it if you want. Carry a couple of 50 cent coins in your pocket and see if it makes you feel better. It always had, for me. Especially when I was a kid back then, crying in alone in the corner... :)

Enough Said.

Wed, 17 Sep 2008 03:41:30 GMT

Analysis: Malaysia Has First Class Infrastructure But Third World Salaries

By G. Gnanalingam

KUALA LUMPUR, Sept 12 (Bernama) -- After 50 years of development, we can say that we have one of the world's best infrastructures in terms of roads, airports, ports and even the Multimedia Super Corridor.

We only realise this until we travel overseas or to neighbouring countries or when we get visitors from the United States or Europe.

As visitors leave the Kuala Lumpur International Airport, travel on the highway, visit KLCC or the surrounding shopping complexes, they can immediately access the Internet. They all say we are better than the developed countries.

The government has done a lot in that we have a roof for every head, a desk for every school-going child, a bed for the sick and even jobs for 2.5 million foreign workers!

Lately, the government has been taking strides to improve the salaries of the government servants while businessmen have had to increase the cost of food items at groceries or restaurants.

Whilst we have first class infrastructure, we still have third world salaries.

While the economy has grown in the last 50 years -- at 6.0 to 8.0 percent annually, salaries have not matched these types of growth. As such, most of the private sector companies still pay third world salaries.

We cannot afford to measure ourselves against the McDonald's index in terms of how many people can afford to buy McDs. We can't even say we can use the Astro index in terms of how many people can afford an Astro at home, which I believe is less than 10 percent.

It becomes worse when we say how many percent of our population can afford to buy computers for their homes.

We can ask for first class infrastructure but can the population afford to use it?

The key question is: can the population afford handphones, highway tolls, computers and high taxes on cars?

As such, to keep astride with our economic growth and our super infrastructures, private sector salaries need to be increased.

It is sad that after 50 years, we still don't have a minimum salary structure and we bring in foreign workers whom we are happy to pay below RM600.

On top of this, we have 950,000 Malaysians working overseas, including 150,000 professionals, because the salary scales abroad are better.

Maybe we have to compare not only taxation in other countries, and ask the government to reduce income tax and corporate tax.

The government has done well to increase the salaries of civil servants by 35 percent.

The private sector complains bitterly that petrol prices have gone up by 100 percent, steel prices up by 100 percent and food prices by 50 percent. However, they try to contain salary increases between 6.0 and 10 percent.

We need to have a minimum wage urgently because even at RM600, who can afford to live in Malaysia?

Just look at cost of rentals for homes and the cost of a loaf of bread for breakfast, lunch and dinner. This is even before we add the cost of transportation, amenities at home and the cost of educating our children.

In the last 50 years, salaries in Singapore have gone up by 7.5 times that of Malaysia.

Fifty years ago, our salaries and currencies were the same. Today, salaries are three times higher and the currency is 2.5 times higher across the Causeway.

Comparatively, the Hong Kong people are earning more than the Singaporeans and the Japanese are earning more than the Hong Kong people.

The government is responsible for first class infrastructure and as well as the hefty 35 percent increase in government salaries.

Who is responsible for third class salaries in Malaysia? Who is driving away the more than a million Malaysians who work overseas? Don't we need that human capital at home?

-- BERNAMA

The Rant of the Balless

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 06:38:15 GMT

Today is one of those days where everything annoys me and gets under my skin.

I have turned off my phone.

I am on MSN but I am being nasty to people I don't really like and abrupt to the so-so. I am not talking to the people I like because I don't wanna start a fight and burn bridges.

I am looking forward to Singapore. And Bangkok.

Funny. I am the saviour of many people. They get into trouble, they look for me. They feel down, they look for me, they get their hearts broken, they look for me.

I am always there with open arms and money to pay the taxis who took them to me. Bewildered taxi drivers who are in shock with these sobbing young girls in party clothes and mascara-streaks on their cheeks.

I make everything better.

But after the smiles have returned and their world gets brighter, I sit alone and wonder, who will save me?

A guy today told me that I am the worst thing to ever happen to his life. I guess such remarks would make other girls cry, or at the very least, feel some hurt.

Me? I feel nothing. I start laughing. I love the idea of a guy pulling his hair out and getting angry and upset over me. The best part is? I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. And this I can promise you.

I did not want to be his girlfriend.

I did not want to be at his beck and call every second of everyday.

I did not want an emotionally and mentally crippling, suffocating guy to take control of me and dictate the order of my life.

And for that, for wanting to be free, for declaring contempt and hate at the idea of being put on a chain - I have been labelled the worst thing to happen to him.

How wonderful :)

Simply magnificent.

I cherish the idea of this one, maybe more, guys, swearing and cursing silently at me, getting troubled and upset over me, tossing and turning at night because of me... just because I did not succumb to their demand of me being their girlfriend.

It startles me so, though. That the simple, plain truth, that I do not have room for anything else in my heart and in my life, except for myself and the select few I care for, could turn sweet talking 'ball bearers' into angry, vengeful little boys.

Don't they understand how suffocated they make me feel? And oh, how easily suffocated I can feel - by a mere hello, I would feel as though a big metal door is clanging shut and I needed to run out of there for my freedom and my life.

Always the thought of "WHO are you to ask me WHERE I am gonna be and WITH who?" Because not even my parents ask me where I am gonna be and with who...

The bitching doesnt't affect me though. They can talk. They will talk. Spread rumours. Bitch. Backstab. It's all ok to me... Cos most of the time, all are talk and no action anyway...

Because we all know, in the end, most men are mostly... just little boys. Hold that thought in your head ladies... And smile through the rest of the week.

The World

Fri, 29 Aug 2008 06:40:45 GMT

I think I would give many things to be able to travel the world. Or live in a developed nation. Like the US. Or Spain.

I see many youngsters travelling overseas to study and it saddens me to hear them moan about it. I know that that is only the foolishness of youth for I was once young(er) too and I absolutely refused to leave the country for anything.

I wanted to stay here. Study here. Work here.

Now I want to leave.

Mostly, I want to travel.

I told someone before that one day I would be able to see the pyramids on camel-backs, see the Aztech ruins in Mexico, sing with the rastamans in Jamaica, watch the bull-fights in Spain, walk the Great Wall of China and watch the geishas dance in Japan.

With my own money.

But its so hard even to travel down to Singapore with the shitty Malaysian ringgit.

Its so hard to even survive a month with the shitty Malaysian ringgit.

Then you have expats earning in British pounds or USD and living like kings and queens here. While we suffer.

I want to travel.

I want to see the world before I die.

I don't want to close my eyes and suddenly wake up to see myself as a 50 year old unhappy woman, still sitting at my desk, still complaining, still unhappy. Still wanting to see the world.

I don't ask for much.

I just want the world.

2008...

Tue, 26 Aug 2008 05:10:05 GMT

2008 is not even over yet and already I feel like I could write a book about the endless drama covering the entire year.

So many stories. So many incidents. Hearts broken, friends (or those we thought were our friends) lost, lives lost, dramatic changes, so many people leaving... the list goes on and on.

The funny thing is, we go through the same crap every year. But still we never learn. We are like lost puppies, chasing our own tails around and around in the same pattern and then moaning when we finally get bitten in the asses. Then we stand firm, growling at every passer-by, trying so hard to rebuild our walls and repair the damages.

We keep telling ourselves, this time, things will be different. This time. No one will step on my heart ever again. No one will take advantage over me anymore. I will only build on true and genuine friendships. I will no longer go out of my way to do things for those undeserving.

But we know that next year, or when things start to get better, we will forget all of our resolutions, throw caution to the wind and repeat our mistakes until we get bitten yet again.

To be fair, 2008 is a hard year. Many people are suffering. The economy doesn't look like it will improve until the second half of 2009 and cost of living is constantly increasing.

Its hard to get a job interview, let alone get a new job, especially for the middle and top management level. Believe me, I tried.

So many acquaintances are now in Singapore, Ireland, the Middle East, Australia, England.

I am still here.

I tried to get a job in Singapore. But I know I am not looking hard enough. You know what they say, if there is a will, there is a way. But you also know what else they say? If it's meant to be, its meant to be.

Hence I have two ways to look at it - bust my ass off and use all my contacts to get an interview in Singapore, or send out my resumes and wait and see what happens.

I even tried to prepare myself to move for Singapore. I started giving away my little white puppy back to its original owner.

Big mistake.

I couldn't stop crying for days. My eyes were swollen and my friends can't help but comment on it over a few jugs of beer in their thick Arabian accent.

So now I am going to get him back.

I don't think I can handle anymore separations this year.

If I can help it, that is. And since I can get my dog back, I will. Because it makes me happy.

I guess thats what matters most. What makes you happy. So that you can infect others with your happiness. And make the world a happier place.

The Typical Day

Mon, 04 Aug 2008 11:58:47 GMT

The weekend was ...

Uplifting during the day.

Laughing and chatting at the Fish Spa in Bangsar with Syiq... (PS; I love you... such a good friend...) Eating our faces blue with humongous portions...

Shopping with my soul sister. A dress to reflect the fire within me.

Hazy, wild and drunk at night.

Jay-1 launch party at Maison. Middle Eastern b-boy... Va-va-va-voom... Free flow.

Podium at Cynna. More vodka. Sweat. Dance. Smoke. Breathlessness.

Sensual at sunrise.

Sprawled on the sofa with an old Qatarian "friend" as he gives me a foot massage.

Quiet conversations about life. Guys. Girls. Lies. Deceit. Games.

Smirks as his "girl" calls, sighing about why he isn't home... Warm mobile phone on my lap as he puts her on speaker. Warm breath tickling my neck as he nuzzles me while answering to her at the same time...

Dreamless sleep.

Awake.

Golden afternoon.

Reality sets in.

Hello world. Here I am. Again.