rant rant whine whine (and movie quote) - 24 december

      It's 5 am in the morning and I haven't had a minute's sleep yet. Ah, sleep deprivation - how acquainted we have become. My heart feels like it's straining just to keep on beating.

      I've been thinking about God and religion.

      Sometimes I don't believe in God. I have not renounced the faith. Part of the reason for that, is that I have some sort of superstitious fear that if I do, God will strike me with lightning and banish me to hell (I'm imagining more dramatic things, but uh, it's probably inappropriate to put them here). And yet part of me truly, honestly, wants to believe in God, or the concept of God - the Divine Protector; someone who accepts and loves you unconditionally when imperfect people will disappoint and leave you; someone to justify every shitty thing that happens ("it's God's plan...", "God has a reason").

      The pastor of my church says that we should read the Bible to know what God wants to tell us - something along those lines. I don't like reading the bible, it confuses me. Exactly which verses of the bible am I supposed to follow and which verses am I supposed to ignore? Seems like half the bible is about stoning and prosecution and the other half about love! (Oh yeah - I don't understand gay bashers who use the bible to justify violence against gay people - WTF man. I suppose you take everything the bible says literally? You don't eat pork, you don't masturbate and you stone to death those who engage in premarital sex. (With verses like that, are we ever justified in quoting the bible?))

      Sometimes I have a very strong dislike for Christian youths (swear words are fine by me, but I'm very uncomfortable with using 'hate' with people :D), though I label myself one. Them and their stupid self righteousness and ignorant comdemnation. And flimsy excuses for being Christians. Would you still have such passion for God, as some of you claim, if you didn't have your loud music and communal activities? But if I'm being honest, and I might as well be, I think I'm probably projecting my bitterness at not being able to be a good Christian girl on them.

      Lately I've been finding myself empathizing with people who commit very ... well, uh, un-Christianly things. Things even some non believers would condemn. Such vague statements, I know. But you would judge me so harshly if you knew.

      Sure, I believe in God. I want God.

      But I have doubt. Oh, I have such doubt.

Dear non existent readers.

 How cute is this template?

-coutesy Deluxe Templates which has some really good looking stuff. 

3 oct

I've been going through this Greek mythology phase recently. Found this awesome book in the college library that gives an overview of the Greek gods and goddesses through art.

So cool right? XD

Pfft, *some* people are under the assumption that I'm only interested in the nudies.
No, I'm not.

My favourite art pieces are the marble sculptures. Friggin incredible, right? I love Poseidon's expression. And, man, the flowing cloak.



Higher Resolution?

While I was searching for more marble pieces online when I came across something quite interesting. I present to you:

Winged dick. (NSFW jpg)

Apparently they sell these as souvenirs in museums.

And while the male subjects of Greek mythology art are incredibly good looking, muscled Gods, I find the female subjects a little creepy. Take for example (a little NSFW as well):

1
2
3

They look like pale lumps of fat.

***

Some people from college got me a very belated birthday present:



I LOVES IT!

It only got published last month. I didn't think it'll get shipped to Malaysia so soon, considering how hard it was to find the Discworld series. Upon being given the book, I said to one of them,

"Hey, I think this is one of those times when people give hugs."
"Uh, no. It's ok."

Geez, man.

3 sept 09

The Accident.

(Oh, just allow me this one SS moment. :D)

Note: The following is based on actual events, slightly exaggerated for dramatic effect (narrative license ftw!). Names of people have been changed to protect the privacy of certain individuals.

Monday morning saw me hunched over the driving wheel, frantically searching for any small, vacant area to slot my tiny car in. It had been 10 minutes since I started my search. It would be another 10 minutes till class would've started.

Lane after lane of small scale industrial lots and mechanic shops I pass. Intersections narrow with irresponsibly parked cars I traverse. No where to park. 

I considered my options:

1. Park somewhere unbounded by the yellow lines
2. Park in Monash, then spend 15 minutes walking to Sunway
3. Search again in futile, futile hope 

But, meh, after remembering that parking fine I got a couple of months back, and a brief self assessment of my physical capabilities, I went with Option 3 lor ...

Approaching another intersection. I decelerate and scan the area. Car coming in from the right slows down to a stop, so I accelerate again. As my car goes right in front of Driver's - Driver starts to accelerate! Not as I approach Driver. Right. in. front. of. Driver. To my perception, at least.

You know what they say about time, that it slows down in a life threatening situation? When your heart clenches in and threatens to break your out of your chest with it's damned pounding. 

Those things totally didn't happen to me. 

Really, self? How could you not register that :
Kelisa vs Any Other Car = sure die ???

Lousy survival instincts aside ...

As I saw Driver closing in, my train of thought, it went something along the lines of: The fu-

I quite calmly tried to swerve the car to the left. 

And then impact occured.

Imagine crushing a Coke can. Now imagine it on a larger scale, with less crackling and on a lower pitch. The sound of impact was like that. Er, alright, it wasn't really. It was just a dull thud.

I was too blur to notice what happened next. I'm assuming that the impact pushed my car backwards and rotated it, since I remember facing a totally new direction ...

I sat in the car for a short while, my mind blank. And then .... Eh, I just got hit lah ...

Conclusion:
Driver paid to replace the smashed in car door. I'm a little more careful on the road now. All is well. 

18 August

When I have time, I will update with a long, unnecessarily detailed and possibly slightly biased narrative of how I got into The Accident.

Yes, an auto accident (which was only a little, if at all, my fault - so everyone can stop spazzing about that time you sat in Jen's car and could've died, ok? XD)

Rant post on writing

I quote myself:

I'm posting it here because I know I won't follow up with it if I kept it to myself. Putting up a promise on your blog (even if nobody read its :) ) and not keeping to it is just lame.

Yes, I'm lame.

Here's what I have so far, no ending yet:

He swiveled his chair to face the window, holding the vial against the streaming sunlight, scrutinizing the thick, black liquid it held. He uncorked it, and was greeted by the sharp, bitter odor he recognized as nicotine. His attention was momentarily shifted to the scene outside when he suddenly caught the faint sound of maniacal laughter. “Matha!” He cried to the young girl who was seemingly the source of this distraction. From his window he shouted, “We don’t want lawsuits from angry parents, Martha!”. The girl’s subsequent look of confusion prompted him to rephrase – “Stop throwing sand into other kids’ eyes”. “Ohhhh,” was the thoughtful reply. “Okaaay, Mr. Burke”, she said in a sing song voice, and released the fistful of sand that was just before aimed at a cowering victim. Martha ran off to another corner of the playground not within the principal’s range of sight to resume her terrorizing. Swiveling the chair back into position, he leaned across his desk and let his eyes rest on the boy seated opposite. “What is this, Frank?” he asked, indicating the vial by a slight jerk of his head. “I made it,” the boy said flatly. “Is that so?” he asked, allowing every syllable to drag longer than it should. He was disappointed when this attempt at intimidation did not elicit the desired response. It did not, in fact, elicit any response. The boy just stared. “How?” Burke asked sharply. “My father keeps a tobacco stash,” he answered simply. The boy had a habit of answering direct questions with vague answers. Could make a great politician if he had a little more charm, Burke thought, silently congratulating himself for his rapier wit. “Frank, do you know what you’ve made? It’s called nicotine, and - “ He searched the child’s face for an expression - any kind, other than his perpetual mask of vacant, blank stares , “ – and it’s very poisonous liquid”. Burke could not tell from Frank’s silence and lack of facial expression whether the child did not understand or simply did not care. “Did you know that, Frank?” “Yes.” This boy is simply a visual oddity, Burke mused. The subject in question was a little shorter than most in his age range, but he was a well fed young man. This contrasted strangely with his narrow face and gaunt cheekbones. Burke coughed nervously and took a sipped his coffee, just for the sake of keeping his himself occupied. Most teachers regarded Frank as a well behaved student, but it was easy to mistake being quiet for good behavior. Burke always thought there was something unsettling about Frank, and this morning’s events that led to Frank being in his office right now was solid proof. “Then why, Frank, did you try to make another student drink it?” he asked, his tone close to exasperation. A slight flush suffused the boy’s pale face. Not being able to meet his Burke’s eyes, he mumbled, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see what would happen”. Burke was almost happy – some of the teachers had given up on trying to coax any kind of emotion out of the boy. Today, however, in this very office, the boy actually ventured beyond his usual monosyllabic reply and even managed to display something akin to emotion. Burke couldn’t wait to share this new development in the staff office. Oh, he would probably have to mention the murder attempt as well.

Dammit, it isn't like I was expecting to write a masterpiece on my first try, but it came out more crappy than I hoped and I don't really have the patience to work on it. Then again, it's not like I'm writing for literary critics. :/ (aspiring writer my ass. I even need to use emoticons to convey expression. HAH)

I was going for a Roald Dahl something-unexpectedly-sinister-happens-at-the-end-of-the-story kind of plot, but the ending seems quite obvious now.

Also, this site (booksie) looks like a neat alternative to fictionpress. Although a lot of content there is angsty teen stuff (which, admittedly, I like to read because it makes me feel like a freaking genius - until I compare my 'work' to any published material).

22 june

I'm on college break till 1 July.

Good timing too, I just got a new graphics card for the PC (for the extremely non-savvy, better graphics card = run better games/run games better). I've got Call of Duty 4, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II, Oblivion and Fallout 3 sitting in the hard drive right now, and I can't wait to get through them. Next on the list: GTA IV (if I can convince my parents that the game's not that violent - yes, I can hear you snort) and Mass Effect. And that's pretty much the schedule I have lined up for holidays. (Socialising? What's that?)

I've decided, I want to get serious about writing. Finally going to make use of the fictionpress account: link here - but don't bother visiting, it's empty right now :)

Writing as a career? Probably not, but I'd like to develop the skill anyway. Honestly though,  something that's been troubling me since the start of college - I have no goal in life! No practical life skills, no passion for anything ... nothing! So I guess I'm using this writing thing is sort of a solution to my path of self discovery, if that makes sense.

So I challenge myself:

I will, these holidays, write at least 3 short stories of minimum length 1000 words (3 because it's a very attainable number). They will be posted on fictionpress.com. 

I'm posting it here because I know I won't follow up with it if I kept it to myself. Putting up a promise on your blog (even if nobody read its :) ) and not keeping to it is just lame.

On a totally unrelated note, I think last week I either

1. unintentionally pissed off a stranger over the internet

2. unintentionally murdered a stranger's self esteem over the internet

(Damn it, if you want to diss or belittle other people through your blog, don't be such a sensitive little prick yourself).

20 may

I'm still alive!

22 march

My internets broke down AGAIN last week.

***

My parents got me a second hand Kelisa. Ok, I'm not sure if it's exclusively mine, because both my parents' cars are old pieces of junk that break down quite often and are worth quite nothing if they tried to sell it now, so they need another car.

But it has been referred to as 'my car', so ...

I know, I'm extremely lucky to not need to work hard myself for one. Heh, I should be happier than I am now. We (this community) live, relatively, a much more comfortable life than the rest of the world. Right, I'll cut the preachy crap.

My parents want to to be able to drive as soon as possible so I can send my younger brothers EVERYWHERE. Which isn't so bad actually, I've jokingly threatened to 'get lost' on the way to fetching them from tuition/school.

13 march

Some randomness:

I don’t think that some people using the computers in the college library realize that the audio-system-thing is linked between computers that are in the same row. Which means that if you don’t mute the computer and you’re chatting on MSN, the rest of us can tell when you’re getting replies. And if you’re visiting a webpage with autoplaying techno music, yes, we can hear it too.

***

I guess I can kindoff understand how depression can lead to self mutilation, but it’s quite unpractical lah. I mean, if you crave pain, might as well do something useful with it – like exercise.