tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83189234592777732372024-03-06T06:13:24.687+08:00Ebal's BlogIqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.comBlogger141125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-7759673094371421032011-10-15T00:05:00.000+08:002011-10-15T00:05:49.977+08:00DREAM BIG, DREAM FUTURE<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And just to clarify, I'm not talking about the 'dream' dream job or dream holiday of that sort. I'm talking about the 'dream' dream. The real dream. The dreams that you get when you fall asleep and your conscious mind went blanked and your sub-conscious mind reigned over your own body.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I can for as far as I can remember, I had been dreaming like really creepy (and stupid) stuff. I still remember this one reccurring dream that I keep having as a child; ABDUCTED BY GOBLINS! And I'm sure they are goblins, not, you know, extra-terrestrials or anything, because, well they looked like goblins to me back then and it is a foregone conclusion that I've drawn upon myself that it is indeed mother-freaking goblins and not toyol or anything.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So in that particular dream of mine (I'm very much sure it is not a nightmare, I actually looked forward to having that dream, so that can't be a nightmare...) I was abducted by silhouettes and brought to the said silhouettes world, inside the shadows. And as I actually recalled, the shadow world is inside my house, we went out using the main door and the entrance is somewhat near the front door. And when we went through, they are people (goblins) doing experiments and stuffs, and the other furniture like the TV set and the couches went from normal to OM-FREAKING-G THAT'S HUGE like it was being magnified to I dunno what size. And then the TV just *flop* and fall and by then I should be up. Wait, I mean, by then I'm up.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This is just like one of those dream that I can actually recalled. There's a term for it. <a href="http://www.dreams.ca/lucid.htm">Lucid dreams</a>. And the fact is that, in this sort of dream, you actually have a degree of control on what you're dreaming about; they also have like little<a href="http://www.dreams.ca/lucid_techniques.htm"> training and exercises to train</a> your conscious mind to take over control once you went lucid.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Some people even have nightmares. I also do. But usually we don't really remember what we dream, well actually, most of the time we don't. And the fact that some nightmares just stuck in your head actually means that it is a lucid dream, a dream that you can managed. But what people always seems to forget is the fact that dream just don't happen for no reason.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Many famous psychologist and psychoanalyst have deduced that dream is in fact a way of the body, to a certain degree, to unwind and relax. Dream are mostly consist of your subconscious mind and creativity, the creativity part is the one that is responsible for any weird a (and saucy *winkwink*) dream that you have once in a while. The father of Freudian, Sigmund Freud said that dream is our mind working its way to fulfill our wishes and all that. So you can always know why a person is very happy when he/she woke up the next morning.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But what struck me the most awesome and yet, not fully discovered part of the dream is the future telling part. I don't know about you guys, but I for once had experienced this somewhat like deja vu dreams, for ages! Well, not like I have one every other day, but yes, I have them for more than once! And it never failed to amazed me. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">These precognition dreams are very vivid, to the extent that I can say that they are some sort of lucid dream, but I can only control myself. Or rather, I think I can only hear myself, think, speak, hear myself think about what I see and smell. I can experience myself in that dream, but I don't have any control over them. And usually these dreams happened right before I wake up, and then it is embedded in my head.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Only to have me forgot about them until the said event happened.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And then I'll be like, 'OMG I've been here before!'. And yes, I have, and all the thing that I did/heard/said/saw/read/whatever is exactly the same as the one that I experienced in my dreams. Like, totally the same. And the dreams, they're not specific i.e. not only for places that I go, they can go as far as fanfics that I read.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Which to me, was like amazing. But for the last two days, it actually happened to me back-to-back. Last Thursday, it was a fanfic that I read, which, from my memory of the dream, had me going 'Why did you go and help that bad guy that bad guy is bad listen to that good guy he's a good guy and he's helping you WHY YOU NO LISTEN TO ME'. Evidently enough, I don't really go gaga over the text and said all that in one breathe, but yet it is what I felt like saying. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And then yesterday, I was late for my Friday prayer, and had to like pray on the pavement <i>outside</i> of the mosque under the blazing sun. By that time also people are already done and are going out and about, when I finally realized that I have had went through it. In a dream!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don't really know the science behind it. I mean, heck, is future-telling even a science? But one thing for sure, I've had them, and they are for real, and that they will just like flash in my eyes when I am going through it for real. One thing that really caught my eyes <a href="http://www.dreams.ca/nightmares.htm#Premonitions">from my reading </a>was that this precognitive dreams actually tells us what to expect, and with careful planning, might avoid going through such events. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But I guess you don't really learn anything from dreams right? Thought so. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Except for guys who had dreams about having a threesome with two hot models on a pavement of some hotel. That, my friends, must be learnt for future usage. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And that is also a repressed desire, but who cares?!</span>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-27081213369558441362011-10-04T00:05:00.000+08:002011-10-04T00:05:52.851+08:00DREAMS DO COME TRUE<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don't really remember posting anything related to dreams before. I think so. I so human that I seems to forget almost everything once I'm done with it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Anyway so currently I have a couple of dreams. Like, I only have two dreams. Dreams that would require most of my time and probably destroy my life, but (as there is a silver lining to every cloud for no obvious reasons) might as well make me a better person in any possible way.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So let's go down the road to my dreams. DREAMS (that hopefully) DO COME TRUE.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">#1 Opening a snack bar</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I know. It sounds so wrong in so many way. First off I wanted to open a snack bar, and most of all the idea of the 'snack bar' itself seems wrong, and the worst part would be the word 'bar' in it, that'll probably suggest alcohol of any sort.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Nope. You're definitely wrong. My dream is to open something like McDonald's mini ice-cream shop. But what I'm going to sell there would be a totally new, revamped, reinvented, revitalised food item that I believe we Malaysian's can relate to. Well, I like to think so too. It has everything to do with ice-cream, and pretty much something to do with flour. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well so yeah. My first dream. If only I had the time, a RM 1,000,000 for my working capital worth of three months and also some RM 500,000 for my R&D of the product and shop, and also the effort to actually do all this, I might be better off without having to wait for the money from JPA.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">#2 Writing a novel. A love, novel.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, if you're my HunnyBee, which probably you're not since there is only one and the hell I know what she's doing right now if not missing his last boy, you'd probably known this. I really like to write. And I LOVE NOVELS. Especially those novels that have certain depths. Something like the roller coaster ride where you have to be at least *insert height* tall to enter kind of thing, but the measuring tool is the plot and the roller coaster ride is the whole story itself. I love novels like that. I also love all Cecelia Aghern stories. She is by far the most talented writer I've ever read. Or I think she's in my 'Most Talented Writer EVER' list, which comes with no numbering. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So back to my story, I would really love to write my own story. A story that is obviously what it is, a story. Mainly because I think way too much about something and somebody, sometimes because between thinking and actually doing something there is always this narrator inside my head (voice just like Smurf's Narrator) and tell me the alternate ending of what could have been if I chosen the other. Mostly because I really do like writing and talking. But most of all, because I don't have proper emotional output.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So I guess writing a novel would definitely be great. And for starters, I've joined LiveJournal. But I'm not sure how to go around and about yet, so until then, there shall be no more updates about this whole writing a novel on LiveJournal. Not just yet.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But if you like interested in knowing about my business idea and what is it really about and most of all you have the RM 1,500,000 that I practically ogling for, please, do tell me. I'll love you in more ways than you can possibly imagine. Rrrrr.. </span>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-57697159988227674762011-09-29T02:31:00.001+08:002011-09-29T02:31:39.446+08:00SAD IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'd say today is equivalent to a very productive day in ShitVille. In a sense, making way too much shit is very productive.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But of course, we are, none the less, in a freaking real world, so making too much shit is pretty much equivalent to getting yourself fucked up in way too many wrong ways and end up dying alone. Sad, but mostly true. Generally speaking. Okay I need to shut up now.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You know what I wanted to talk about though? I was wandering what people had that I really wanted, oh so badly, but never once had the chance to do. It is inevitable that I have to explain the reason(s) as to why these stuffs are not accomplish-able by me, but I figured why tell the whole story when you can make 7 others. The very similar concept done in Harry Potter. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I know I just killed a few of them with that last sentence. You're welcome.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So here we go, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #e06666; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b>THINGS I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE, BUT I SUCKS SO BAD I CANT HAVE THEM</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">*Ooh, long title*</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">#1 <u>Be born and raised posh.</u></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Okay I know, it is entirely wrong to place the work of God at blame, bla, bla, bla, I get it. But I guess it is entirely true. If I can, like say, choose which family that I am to be born into, I would have definitely check every possible details on a list of families that are doing great financially and choose the one that I think can survive, economically that is, in the harshest environment ever! Also the thought of having all the things you want, all at your disposal is indeed very intriguing. And oh the weekend activity! I can die young, dear Perry's Band!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">#2 <u>The looks.</u></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And by looks it is not just any looks. I want the face of Micheal Fassbender, the body of Chris Evans, the smile of Elijah Wood, the sexy voice of Gregory Peck, the legs of Channing Tatum (just because he dance like there's no ones better than him. And I believe him), and the brilliant eyes of Lucy Hale - I know, she, well female, but I like her eyes, sort of greenish, something like the patches of green fungi you find in the woods where there's no man but you yourself. Gosh, I love her eyes. The point is, I would really love to have all of these features, but then again, it is because I don't have them that I yearned them. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">#3 <u>Be naturally talented in music</u></span>.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Of course that is impossible. But not quite true. I guess some people just know their way when it comes to music, some, unfortunately includes me, have to pace their way. Even up the first step of the ladder to success. So I guess if I was born with the brain for the notes I'd be pretty much happy. And of course way more happier than I will ever be. Probably. I know I'm happy now, and will always be happy, but that's beside the point.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">#4 <u>Awesome social skills</u>.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This is sort of ridiculous. But I've always wished that I had like better social skill. I mean I know I'm doing well, I have no problem going to somewhere totally strange but not having any problems making friends (depending on the time I'll spent though, an hour is very unreasonable to make friends), and I do have many friends now. But it always catch me nowadays, whether my friend-making skill is enough or not, and the reason to it will lead to #5...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">#5 <u>Someone to love.</u></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yup. I think everybody have someone to love. And if your someone to love is your own family, I entrust you with a slap to your face. Because the thing is, I'm looking for someone new for me to love. I've always wondered how people find their loved ones. I mean, is it really that easy? Am I blind (funny I typed 'blonde' before fully realizing what I just did)? I sometimes find people very funny. People like those aged 10 to 16. Like what the heck, why do you need a lover? You're not even finished with puberty yet, power through it one by one can you? And up until now I have never had someone to hold hands with, never had someone to text to every freaking night, never had that someone whom I can give pet names and be nervous whenever I'm close to that person. I just never had the chance. Or I'm probably am blind. Though I must say despite being illegally blind, I don't really care about the gender of my future 'someone to love', for I think I'm gender-blind. I feel bad for myself. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">#6 <u>The brain</u>.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've just... I've always wished that I have the brain of someone very brilliant, someone like Einstein maybe. Heh, who am I joking?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">#7 <u>The perfect friend.</u></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I know, I'm probably asking way too much in one post. First someone to love and now the perfect friend? Oh, if you don't know, your lover may or may not be the perfect friend. My version of perfect friend would be one that will never let you down in whatever that you do, no matter how stupid you'll look like. I know, this is like the most perfect thing yet the most impossible stuff to get, but I guess it is never wrong to dream, for thanks to dream, we can have all we wanted. But then again, even the most perfect (I don't know how is this possible) friend can be ruined if we ourselves are not trying to be the perfect one. So I guess I'll settled with I WANT TO BE *THE* PERFECT FRIEND. I don't care about either my friends can be perfect for me or not, but that is no reason as to why I shouldn't be one. Gosh this is way sadder than #5.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">**********</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I think that is everything. Everything that I can wished for, but I probably have a small chance of actually having it, knowing that #1, #2, and #6 is entirely out of my reach. But I guess a small dream is never wrong. And with that, THE END.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>P/s: </b>I'm very sorry with the first few lines. I think I was under the influence of hormones, not that I know any reasons as to why I might have been influenced by it. Most probably it is the case of IMS. Most probably.</span>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-35001058779074047222011-09-27T00:39:00.001+08:002011-09-27T00:39:38.628+08:00AWKWARD PARENTING ARE AWKWARD<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Ugh, if I am a parent (mind you, <i>a</i>. It is I, the single parent.) and this blog is my one and only child, I'd swear to you that I am the worst dad one could ever wished for. I'll be like going to the child's room, peeked in, as something like 'Are you still alive?', maybe go around and remind him that dinner is always in the freezer for no apparent reason, than I leave the room not forgetting to turn off the light and locked the door. Something like that.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">*Inhaled deeply* I surely missed the blogosphere, that much I'm sure. I dunno what have kept me from this blog, but I am quite certain that 'me' had a part in it, and that sucks pretty well. I mean, I've always wanted to like do this blog thing right, but then again it is me again who went on and practically destroyed the whole dream of mine. So sad, yet so true.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I couldn't remember just how many drafts I have made - and rest assured I am pretty much lazy to actually go and check it - but I'm quite sure it is somewhere between 4 and the number after infinity. Which is a lot (I know). </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What else to say? Hrm, let's see. Humiliate yourself; checked! Reason with stupidity; checked! Oh right, my boring story regarding my boring life for the past 20 years.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Note:</b> I know 20 years is an extraordinarily false account, but it seems to me that times do flow faster online than it did in the real world. I mean, somewhere like last couple of months, Blogger was a easy as fuck, now it is as hard as keeping the boner throughout the fuck. Not that I have had any, mind you. LOL :)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I faintly remember the last time I made my post, so I'm going back as far as May, so that I have a 4 months worth of stories to tell you guys! How exciting (not)! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So let's see. In May, what happened? I was working I think. Oh wait that was much later! I was still in my foundation year, maybe somewhere in the final exam? Oh yeah, talking about finals I flunked it, and I flunked it hard! Ho-yeah! Especially my Chemistry paper thus the reason I was rejected from the medicine school in Monash, only to have me change program into the Psychological Science and Business.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Note:</b> I can't help but feel somewhat d<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small; line-height: 16px;"><em style="color: black; font-style: normal;">éjà vu</em></span> about this whole thing. Sigh.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Then in June is when I started working in Watsons. And by far it is the best working experience I've ever had - next with my 3-hours working experience in the insurance management company and the experience I had working in hell, literally. Okay I'm joking figuratively of course, but seriously everybody working in that shoe shop are freaking satan!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">At first I thought that I'm going to work for Watsons like for another 7 months, only to have me cut down my working time frame to a month and a half thanks to my bad chemistry with Chemistry. I went back to school in July. I think studying in Monash is very challenging. And by challenging I mean 'I have a lot of free time to run around doing unimportant stuff rather than studying' challenging. My class schedule was so free that I practically can't stop borrowing iPads from the library and play the Tower Madness game. I. FREAKING. LOVE. GAMES! Especially tower defense game! I <3 them!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Anyway, back to the calendar. In August we started with our fasting, the month of Ramadhan. And this year around, some other illness came to me. I had some wind/gastritis problem. I told some of my girlfriends about it, and I regretted it. They actually equated my stomach ache as their PMS attack. In a very graphic manner. So now I practically know just how it felt to be having one, so don't go 'Oh you don't know how I feel' techniques with me ladies, for I, have had my graduation from the PMS sector, albeit the information are very general and not precise. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh, I also ended up skipping 3 days of fasting, as recommended by the doctor. I had fun doing it, though. I felt somewhat daredevil, sneaking around with a pack of M&M in the side pocket of my sling bag, taking a piece at a time to my mouth. I actually did that not because I'm afraid that I'll get caught for skipping fasting by the JAKIM or whatnot; I actually had a really fun game trying to eat when nobody's around and/or looking at you eating. Hahahahaha me and my-silly-self.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In September, I saw many catastrophe. It seems like my studies is going downhill, and also my self-perceived self-worthiness. Oh, and during September my little-big-sister got a free notebook from Lenovo via the 1Malaysia campaign, only to find it broken after like 3 days after our housing area was struck with a flash flood.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The flood certainly came in a flash. Mom said that the flood was knee-high inside, and waist-high outside. And this was certainly the worst case ever happened to my housing area. Usually there will only be like 8 house affected by the flash flood. But this time around there was a total of 20 victims (houses, really). The aftermath was quite devastating, even for myself.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The day of event, I was having only one class for the day. It was a Wednesday, a hump-day, and I have only one class. I told Mom that my class will be ending by 2, and solemnly said something about being back home after the class, somewhere around 4. By the time I reached Monash, rain started to pour down. Even after I finished class, the rain was still pouring. I don't know what to do, and my friend cordially invited me to go for a badminton session they having that evening. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Apparently rain and badminton goes side-by-side. I went for the game. Initially I was just a by-stander, a single, cheering crowd if you may. But then, people started having trouble (my friend snapped her racket, while the other one had to go to the toilet) and out of nowhere I'm in a team, with a total stranger (to me of course, we had a mutual friend, it seems to be) battling for the title 'winning team'. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After winning the title (yup, I won that game. I'm suprised myself!), I checked my phone for any news. Evidently enough, Mom called my once, and Dad called me four times. I called back, only to know that he's on his way back after knowing from Mom that our house is flooded. So I also ran back home. After that, we spent something like three days cleaning up the house. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After that three days, Dad, Mom, my little-big-sister and I went to Penang for my cousin's wedding, along with my 2nd niece. We came back. We have nothing else happening. Me, on the other hand, met up with my old friend, went to her house, became her husband for a day (thanks to her Mom, I very much needed the attention anyway) and watched two movies with her, The Smurfs and Fright Night. Both a good movie. Oh and while spending time in her house waiting for the ever-late friends of ours, I fell in love with James McAvoy and Micheal Fassbender. And they are my current obsessions, if you may. <a href="http://fuckyeahcharlesanderik.tumblr.com/">I think the Internet also loves them</a>.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And that is pretty much what happened to me these past 4 months. Exciting isn't it? Well yeah, this is a much deserving long update that my son 'Blog' need. I'm going to be a great Dad. All I need is a spouse. And I'm not even picky. Not even the sex. LOL kidding :) (am not). </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>P/s:</b> I have to admit. I stole the title from the only link I put in this post. I'm so sorry OP, but apparently it rhymes with my beginning paragraph and I thought it's cool. So yeah. Whatever.</span>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-85500038168551608222011-07-24T23:24:00.000+08:002011-07-24T23:25:07.761+08:00FUCK YOU...<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
Somewhere around last week, Thursday I think, I went to this 'University Transitional & Assertiveness Workshop'. Don't get me wrong. I went there solely for the free refreshments. The workshops were broken to two parts, Transitional program and also Assertiveness workshop. I know, it's inevitable, I still pay attention even after setting my goals for the free food. </div>
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Anyway I actually liked the Assertiveness Workshop. They actually touched a bit about personalities. So basically they are 3 different types of personalities, namely Aggressive, Passive, and Assertive. Aggressive people tend to shove ideas down people throats (read: Sadistic), Passive people tends to swallow what people are shoving down their throats (read: Masochist). Assertive, on the other hand, evaluates what they feel, see if there is any need to disagree with one's idea, then make a whole lot of shit out of it, and make up their decision.</div>
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So you'd know that it is always better to be assertive, rather than being a sadist or masochist. But I think there is always a limit to just how 'assertive' you can be. I mean, what if you are too adamant to not go to this party, that people actually see you as an 'Aggressive' person? Or maybe you are too willing to go bed with this handsome dude/pretty lady that they actually see you as a very 'Passive' (or maybe 'Needy') person? </div>
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Well, that's for you to think. I'm here to talk about people I hate, as always.</div>
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I hate my little sister. She's 13, she's fat, and she's stupid. Yesterday she 'discussed' about getting herself a prepaid number and also a new phone for that number. She even went through this Court's mailer with a calculator, calculating just how much she needs to pay monthly. Of course, normal people can do it sans calculator.</div>
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What's more, she was actually mad that my Dad won't buy the phone on her behalf. Which is, of course reasonable. I mean, well, you are going to use Dad's money to buy the phone, why the heck do ayou want to trouble him more by forcing him to buy your phone? That's stupid. She even argued about my RM500.00 phone. Well, so sorry to break the news, I used the Rakyat's money to buy the phone, not my Dad's.</div>
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What trouble me is the fact that she doesn't really need any phone. I mean, well, if you really want to have a very private phone a.k.a. number, why don't you just buy a freaking number then just swap the SIM card? Isn't that the easiest way ever? I still remember when I'm 13, all I ever cared to have was a phone card, that you can use in a public phone. </div>
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Of course, at that time I was in a boarding school, but that's beside the point.</div>
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I also don't seem to see the point of being able to show off your new phones to friend, when what really matter is that you can actually use the phone. I mean, come on, all Malaysian knew that the moment somebody (namely, teachers) caught you bringing your precious phones to school, they'll definitely confiscate your phone. So the safest place to actually use your phone is actually outside of school.</div>
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And tell, just how long do you have outside of school. In average, a Malaysian teenager that is studying under the Malaysian school system would have to spend at least 7 hours a day at school. A normal human would then spend at least 7 hours a day for sleep. School and sleep alone take up 14 hours of our 24 hours, and that leaves us with 10 hours left.</div>
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So are you going to tell me that you are going to utilise that 10 hours, solely for 'phone time'? That is bullshit. You would need to eat, at least 3 meals a day (I eat less than that, on weekly basis). You also need to bath, make yourself ready for whatever occasion (going to school maybe?), go outside and play (alternatively seat in front of the PC and play). All of these cost you your daily hours, and alternatively shortens the number of hours spent on your phone.</div>
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Well, at least that is my argument to my sister. She's just as stubborn as hell. </div>
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Of course, if you have all the money in the world and need to have phones or else you're going to die, then go ahead, please yourself, and die peacefully. </div>
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The end. I would really like to think of myself as a very non-assertive person, but not aggressive nor passive. I don't like something being shoved down my throat, or even the thought of shoving something down somebody's throat. But on the other hand, I don't always think about what I want, or what is good for me.</div>
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Of course, I can decide on my own, and based on my own opinion on whether it is great or not. THE END. Again. Daa~~</div>
Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-35226826197544288812011-07-12T02:51:00.001+08:002011-07-12T02:51:24.095+08:00RM 1.60<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">
If you are wondering what I am going to write here since I put my title as 'RM 1.60', then I would like to advice to you to stop. RM 1.60 is currently what I have right now, and it is lying next to this laptop, being smashed down by my name tag from work. </div>
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Have you ever wondered what you can really do with RM 1.60? You can actually do a lot. You can, for example, go from <a href="http://maps.google.com.my/maps?hl=en&safe=off&q=sungai+buloh+to+jusco+metro+prima+kepong&biw=1366&bih=644&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&tab=wl">Sungai Buloh all the way to Kepong</a>, or rather more specifically to my work place, as stated in the map. And that is quite far. </div>
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With a RM 1.60 you can also buy many other things, like a Sour Skittles from Jusco, or maybe you can also buy drinks from any mamak stall or any restaurant, although you might want to go to the cheaper restaurant, and not restaurants like Carl's Jr., cause you might just get a sip there with that much of a money.</div>
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You can also buy a handful of candy. A bag of kaya balls, a doughnut or two in La Boheme, a piece of sushi, maybe even a stack of coloured papers which I can expertly teach you ways on how to make roses out of those papers and for sure make even more money! (YAAAAYY!!)</div>
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Well, there is a list of endless things on what you can do with RM 1.60, although I'm not sure how to make a list about things that is endless. That, I'll leave to the expert to think about (read: Won't do). But have you ever thought what if the RM 1.60 is not your money, but a value of something that held a meaning to you, be it important or not? </div>
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For a rather personal example, my (horrible) life this very week. I know, I know. It is only Monday and I'm telling you guys like I've already wrapped up my week. The thing is, you never really need a wake up call after the second time, 'cause you are probably all up on your fours ready to plunge into action the moment you smell something funny's lurking at the corner of anywhere. </div>
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<b>Note: </b>From this point onwards, you'd be seeing a lot of 'RM 1.60'. If you are wondering, my answer would be 'No, I am not doing a contest to see who can count the correct amount of RM 1.60 used in this post', because that is for those who had nothing to do in their life. I am using these 'RM 1.60' as a replacement to 'shitty' because who can stand having to call their hard work as 'shitty hard work', right? So, instead, I'll use 'RM 1.60 hard work'. Yaaayy for kind heart! </div>
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Anyway, like I said, this week (these two days, really) had been nothing but a RM 1.60 to me. Yesterday was the beginning of everything bad, I think. I actually lost my wallet (in the form of a pouch), and everything inside that pouch, which is actually a lot. Inside that small pouch, I have items like:</div>
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1) Money (RM 18.10) </div>
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2) NRIC</div>
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3) Bank cards</div>
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4) Visa card (my bank card really, but who cares)</div>
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5) Vaseline lip balm (I get dry lips easily)</div>
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6) Name cards (anonymous, actually)</div>
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7) Archery card thingy (that place <a href="http://www.lasports.com.my/html/stararchery.htm">in Sunway Pyramid</a>)</div>
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8) The pouch itself (I'm hopeless...)</div>
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I only realized that I actually lost my pouch when I arrived to my work place, as I had to clock in using my NRIC. The bus that I rode to work was obviously not in the place that I last saw it, the bus stop that I actually sat on is way too far away for me to humanly go to, and I had no money to even go anywhere. That, my friend, is a sign that you have a very bad week ahead of you.</div>
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I actually had to go through all sort of RM 1.60 trouble just because I lost my stupid (but important) pouch. I had to call in my Visa card provider to terminate my card, in which I had to answer stupid questions like what is my bank account number (in which my respond was 'You have got to be kidding me. Am I supposed to remember my freaking account number? Ask me something simple like my home address').</div>
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After that, I had to walk to the nearest police station to lodge a report on my missing IC. Luckily the walk wasn't <i>that</i> tiring and the policewomen is not <i>that</i> creepy. I suppose there are silver lining in the black cloud, however the saying was supposed to sound like.</div>
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Today, was the continuity of yesterday bad-day. I actually left my belt. Of course it is not that important, but hey, belts are vital. You need to have them on to be taken almost half as serious as if you are actually an important person. Imagine the president of a country going on stage wearing a pants but not a RM 1.60 belt. The news people would definitely be stunned and do stupid news reports like 'A tale of the president, the national election, and a RM 1.60 belt', which in turn annoys the whole country and make wars happen in a blink of a heavy, ugly, cyclops's eye. </div>
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I also kicked the dustbin and spilled all of the Rm 1.60 trash in it when I practically managed to jumped over that tiny thing like flawlessly ever other day except for this RM 1.60 day. I also pulled the store's grill minutes too fast and had to re-open that RM 1.60 thing again. I also forgot to tell my store manager about me leaving to further my studies.</div>
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On that note, I finally had the guts to actually open my e-mail to check for any e-mail from Monash. It turns out to be there was, and it was an offer letter from Monash. I was praying for Bachelor of Psychological Science and Business, but was slapped right on my face with a RM 1.60 Bachelor of Medical Bioscience. Knowing that Chemistry the Subject and I are mortal enemies, I just had to reply to Monash's PSO (Prespective Student Office) on why my 2<sup>nd</sup> choice (Psychology) wasn't chosen, already knowing that I can pretty much figure out why this actually happened.</div>
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Anyway, I guess whether or not your day is going to be as RM 1.60 as you might think it is really depends on your decision really. You can make it as dull as RM 1.60 meal, or as deliciously delicious RM A-WHOLE-LOT meal. Your call, really.</div>
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I'm currently listening to Rihanna's 'Hatin' On The Club' for no obvious reason. I also had no obvious reason as to why I need to tell you guys. Gotta go to sleep. Buhbye~~</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>P/s: </b>Why don't you join my 'RM 1.60 campaign'? It's gonna be fun! Just use in any way you wanted to, it is like the *bleep* in a spoken sentence, but instead of a *bleep*, it is a precious RM 1.60! Of course, if you don't use Malaysian Ringgit (or you really don't want to use it because of the low currency exchange thingy), you can just use any other currency, but of course, the amount has to be '1.60' regardless of the currency used. OMG, I felt so powerful now. Daa~~</span></div>
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Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-25932506508042524642011-05-27T12:16:00.001+08:002011-05-27T12:16:58.649+08:00MENTOR.<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If you really don't know what I am about to talk about, I think you are a total loser and very not worth it to befriend with as you sucks and I rules and that is all to it.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hah! So much for an intro. Well anyway, there is this series aired on the national TV, and if you really don't know <a href="http://apps.tv3.com.my/mentor5/">what it is</a>, seriously, you sucks. Well anyway, my most favourite contestant was voted out of the competition. I really do think it is not the contestant, R, to be blamed, but rather, her mentor.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She has a really nice voice, honestly. I mean, okay, I am a total loser when I hear husky voices (be it man or woman), and I like beach motives (stripes) a lot which make me even so a loser, but I know a talent when I see one. Especially when that talent was chosen by a famous artist and is in a singing competition.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, last weekend was the semi-finals part 2 (don't ask me why, this is so stupid) and R was kicked out of the competition. I really think that her mentor really haven't done the best for her. I mean she has this very husky voice, something like really nice and attractive that make you really want to listen to her, but for the semi-finals her mentor did the same act for her performance, the very same act she had to do for the last few weeks. Theatrical.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I mean, fine, her mentor is famous, his talented, done musical theater and is a very well-known man for his talent, but his mentee is not. He can definitely get away doing almost anything, but not his mentee. Anyway, what I thought should be done instead was for him to showcase her true talent, the only reason she was chosen in the first place, her singing talent.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">He should have seen this ahead of it. For the semi-finals he should have at least show the audience and the judges that she can really perform well even without all those back-up dancers and storyline and routines. He should have make her sit down, sing a very emotional song, and mesmerize the audience with her husky voice.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Note:</b> I've been wanting to use 'mesmerize' for so long. Apparently being 'mesmerize by the cat - pooping' is not the real intention this word was made.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, it is what I call as fate. Fat-ass fate. Who cares. I have my own fat-ass fate. Just now I was at Selayang Mall, doing a small interview (which I would rather call a get-to-know-before-I-start-working) which really is nothing, since no answers where expected from my behalf. But still, I am now officially (I think...) an employee of Watson. YAAAYY!!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I went there with my sister, hitching a ride from her friend, and both of them went there for a surprised meeting (is that what you call it? Sudden meeting? Unintended meeting? Unplanned meeting? More like unplanned pregnancy) which involved 10 store managers of the 10 Watson outlets found somewhere... unspecified.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So now I have my job! Now is the time for me to buy 4 white collared tees, a black shoes, and also some black pants. There's a lot. So adios guys~~</div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-55801662283212204072011-05-27T00:11:00.000+08:002011-05-27T00:11:39.491+08:00IN THE END...<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, it pretty much says it all. I've come to the end... of MUFY! Yup! I'm all done with MUFY now, and I'm on my way to misery! YAAAYY!!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Thumbs up for positivity! Okay. I'm now done with my final exam, and I am technically done with my MUFY, and on my way to MBBS in Monash. Which creeps the freak out of me since I am very sure that I crapped my final exams. Which is very not good, both financially and emotionally. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sob...</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But nevertheless being the dick that I have... I mean, I am, I must say the tight schedule is the one to be blame and not my lousy brain for if it is lousy I won't be there in the first place! DANG! Anyway, the schedule really is tight, as tight as a virgin's, wait for it... deodorant cap! What did you thought I'm going to say? Asshole? Gosh, you're so stupid I'm not that dirty!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">DIRTY BIT!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hate that song. Anyway, the schedule is tight (I've pretty much made myself clear after repeating that for 3 times). I had like 4 papers in 3 days, and that 3 days, <b>is </b>3 days! NO BREAKS in between them. I'm pretty sure I screwed up all that paper, for I know just where I screwed it up. Which is very sad and depressing.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Especially Maths! OH-MY-GOD! I really hate myself. Imagine answering the first question with air-pen. I literally left the first question not even trying to answer it. The FIRST question, like the easiest question ever! So stupid. I come out of the exam hall feeling like some elephant in the hall just decided to poop on top of my head since he thought that making the exam hall quiet is totally unnecessary. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Stupid elephant in the exam hall.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But, putting that all aside, I am currently moving on. Like how almost every Asian wise men said, 'the ending of [fill in the blank] is always a beginning to something new'. Or so I thought. My sister, the ever-lovely-ever-boring older sister of mine, hooked me up with a job. Like, almost instantly. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Which is great since I don't have to go to any stupid shoes shop looking for a job that pays well, but make you pay with your holidays and your precious time. Since she is working with Watson, she managed to hooked me up a job, namely, 'sales coordinator'. I'm pretty much sure the sales there are not that organized and not well coordinated so they actually needed someone to tell which is which and make all the products clear of what they are supposed to do when they are bought by some strangers who needed a hair conditioner for his hair that hasn't been washed for God knows how long.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I can almost make a scene of what my future life in Watson are going to be...</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"Remember, you are a hair conditioner, so don't go and clean your owner's hair like how a shampoo do, okay."</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"Can I make his hair purple?"</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"No! For the thousandth time, your a freaking hair conditioner! Why the heck do you wanna colour the hair, and why does it have to be purple? Why can't you make turn the hair into dark brown?"</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"I can?"</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"Ugh!"</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Purr-fect... So I have an interview tomorrow (Friday) and I have to wake early in the morning, which sucks especially since today was supposed to be the day that I am finally free of studying and what-not. Oh well, I guess life goes on... Going to sleep now, so buhbye! </div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-22826186859745297112011-05-20T19:31:00.000+08:002011-05-20T19:31:03.108+08:00FAILURES.<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</style> <![endif]--> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Talking about the biggest failure of your life, mine would be my fail blog-post that was supposed to be made available last Wednesday, a day before my final paper for English which was last Thursday, but only made possible by this day (hopefully) which is a Friday.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Not to mention that my fingers are definitely ugly, namely my left <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and </i>right index fingers, which made my days even uglier and fail-er. Gosh, I just don’t get it about me and bad days. Today (Thursday) was no exception.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So anyway today (Thursday, still) was the final seating for my English paper, which literally means that I can forget about Atticus, Jem, Scout, Ms. Maudie, Ms. Caroline Fischer, Aunt Alexandra, Calpurnia, Tom Robinson, Judge Taylor, Heck Tate, Andy Dusfrene, Red Reddings, Tommy Williams, Byron Hadley, Warden Norton, Martin Tankleff, Karlene Kovacs, Jay Salpeter, Det. McCready, and that lawyer guy who is actually the boss of Jay Salpeter but I believed was never mentioned in any essays of any student. Sad face. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Note: </b>That, my friend, is what I’ve got from my semester of English. That, by the way, came from the novel ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ by Harper Lee, the movie ‘Shawshank Redemption’, and also the unfortunate event of Martin Tankleff. Serious shits I tell you.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So anyway, today was already bad, keeping in mind that I’ve literally wasted my only two useful index fingers. But if I had to rate the English paper for today, I’d give a total of 5 stars out of 7 (don’t ask why 7, I like tortoise) for time management – the paper actually managed to make me used up all the 2 hours and 15 minutes that I had. I would also love to give the paper a total of 7 stars out of 7 (duh!) for toughness, simply because it is printed on tough papers!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Okay if you don’t get the joke just omit that part, but I really do think it is ‘punny’! Haha thank you T!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But that is not my bad day story; in fact that is just the beginning. Like, who actually cares about what actually happened in the beginning right? So, after the paper is finally done, I lingered around the exam hall just for the heck of it. Okay no I’m lying. I was lingering around because some of my friends were there, they were settling about the graduation night tickets thingy.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So as I was lingering around, I got stuck with these particularly few friends of mine. I would love to say because I heard they were talking about cakes and party, but the truth is because there are none others that I can actually hanged out with, or truth be told, none that I would rather hanged out with. So be it!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">After some gazillion years later (6 minutes), we arrived at the 2<sup>nd</sup> floor lobby, for they were planning to do this Biology class party which really was just a cake eating event and not much of a party for the lack of music and drinks of any kind. While waiting for the cakes, I was talking with some of my friends, and that was when <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">my</i> unfortunate event happened…</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I was talking, with my hands moving vigorously. Don’t ask me why, but I think I have this very weird thing about my hands, brain, and mouth. Whenever my brain and mouth are working, my hands seemed to be moving too. I guess it must be because all of these activities are controlled in the same area of the brain. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, talk talk talk and then <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">BAM! </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knocked on something. Guess what? It was my friend’s face, and her spectacles fall off. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Her </i>spectacles. And it broke off. BROKE OFF! I probably did two things that any guy would literally killed themselves over. Slapping a girl in the face and break a girl stuff. I, on the other hand, managed to do both in one shot. Talk about metrosexual.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway the case ended with me paying for her contact lenses and nothing else. So that's all. And epic ending for an epic story, right? Fail.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Oh what's more is what we did after that. There were like 5 of us, and we went for lunch at Pizza Hut. We sat there for somewhat 2 hours. Talking. And mind you the combination we had, the five of us, was a rare one, definitely, but one that actually worked. So yaaayy for friendship! The sad part was that we all came from the same English class but only had the chance to test out our chemistry after we finished our final paper for English. Epic failure!</div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-87285779674441423092011-05-20T19:08:00.002+08:002011-05-20T19:08:39.565+08:00FINALE.<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</style> <![endif]--> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I’ve just finished watching ‘500 Days Of Summer’. It is a really superb, romantic, and kind of cheeky movie. Right now, in this very moment, I just can’t seemed to wipe out this grin off my face. The ending was so cute! </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And this really is gay. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this. Aha!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway tomorrow is my so-called ‘2012’ or my ‘end of the world’ – the finals! It is here! Like, really here! Tomorrow would be my very first paper, English. I’m praying for the worst but hoping for the best. Twisted, I know, tell me about it. This whole semester I can proudly say that I’ve done badly. I mean like for last semester not one of my essay paper had been below 20 marks out of 25, but this semester I’ve been as low as 14.5, which by the way, sucks. For me, at least. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So tomorrow I am pretty much dead. I’m really freaked out by how the paper is going to be, but really I am hoping for the best. The only thing that is left for me to do now is not dying and be there at the exam hall tomorrow when the ordeal is happening. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you know what’s funny, despite the fact that I might just die tomorrow I am still here, doing this post, and not studying, when I actually had like, I don’t know, a week prior to do this thing. I really am the best at procrastinating, really. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Note:</b> Just till the last word, I had typed 250 words (Words told me that). Talk about precision!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I think I am just going to keep this as simple as possible because I really can’t think of what to write, especially since I had to preserve my brain and it’s neuron for tomorrow. So, for all of you guys who are going to sit for your finals, best of luck. Remember, it is never ‘fate’ or ‘meant to be’, but it is because you’re not really looking for it, or maybe you’re just looking for the wrong thing at the wrong moment. Have fun with finals!</div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-1683103199847549652011-05-04T22:11:00.000+08:002011-05-04T22:11:05.297+08:00RAIN...<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</style> <![endif]--> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It had been raining constantly these past few days. I think it is probably the time of the year. Since this is the equator, so we don’t (never actually) have any snow or anything. The closest thing – in terms of temperature that is, is the raining season. Or maybe it is known as the monsoon season? I’m just not sure.</span> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well anyway I love the rain. I think it is one of those lovely moments that actually make your day. It is kind of weird, right? I know. You’re not to be blamed. I mean rains can only bring troubles, rather than making up your day. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the real world, that is. Not in my world.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the real world, or probably in Malaysia, rain can only mean one thing. Traffic congestion. It is like one of the thing that defines Malaysia. If let say you travel by car one day and the road is super clear, it can only mean one thing:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span><span>1)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>1) You’re dreaming. You are still asleep!</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span><span>2)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> 2) </span></span></span>It is a major public holiday</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span><span>3)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>3) It is a major public holiday and you’re driving in the city. News flash! People moves from the city to their home town elsewhere in holidays</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span><span>4)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>4) You’re driving in some closed area that you’re not informed of</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span><span>5)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>5) You’re bind. Why the hell you get behind the wheels?</span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span><span>6)<span style="-moz-font-feature-settings: normal; -moz-font-language-override: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span>6) All of the above. Somehow.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yes. Although I know it’s pretty stupid to be driving when you’re blind. Or maybe it that cases in which people become blind suddenly. If I’m not mistaken it is caused by a high dosage of mercury. They must’ve eaten a thermometer by accident. Poor thing…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Another bad thing that a rain can possibly bring to human being, especially in Malaysia, is car accident. It is like the most common thing after traffic congestion. It is bound to happen somehow, but the rain just act as a catalyst and make things happen even faster. I mean regardless whether the driver do change their tires regularly enough or not, it is going to happen. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The best thing is that accidents don’t just happen when it rains, it also happens like in normal weather. I really find kind of offensive and stupid to blame the rain for any accidents that happen. We all know it is the driver’s fault that causes the accident. Yet, they still believe that the weather, the nagging girlfriend, the phone, Twitter, BBM, cause these accidents. Really, guys?<span> </span>Ugh…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Another bad thing about rain is that it can damage your phone. Take my phone for example. My beautiful Nokia X3-02. The rain totally spoilt the phone. I’d just finished my guitar lesson, and walking out of Summit USJ, I noticed that it was raining, like crazy. It is raining that nothing like ‘raining cat and dog’ can come up to. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So, anyway, it was raining like crazy. And I don’t plan to waste my time. The only way I know I’m going to make it is by determination. And of course, some music. So I took out my dearest Nokia X3-02, plugged in my earphones, and tuned to my most favourite radio station. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Raining? Huh, with my radio and determination, nothing can stop me now!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Of course, the rain was really bad. Not only that I had to run, the running was really hard because my jeans was all soaked the moment I stepped out of the last place of shade (more like I ran out of the place), the wind was so strong that I could hardly run. Imagine running in a swimming pool. Stupid, isn’t it? That was exactly how I felt all the while I was running back.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When I reached my casa, I found peace. And by peace I mean no harsh wind and water coming down on you like your having your third bath for the day. I took out my phone, and I finally realized just how stupid I can be. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">There I stand, with my guitar lesson notebook (which caused me RM10.00) and my leather pouch (I think so) on my right hand, my left hand with my phone. Nokia X3-02. Touch and type. Just that now it can only be type and not type since the rain had managed to infiltrate my dearest. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">DAMN!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I totally forgot that my jean wasn’t water-resistant and that I should have put my phone in my leather pouch so that the water can’t damage it! Stupid stupid stupid! Only that there’s nothing I can do to change it. I quickly went back to my unit, and take a bath. What do you expect me to do? Dry my phone? Hello, ever heard ‘yourself comes first, others second’? At a time like this I should really come first.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So after my relaxing bath, I checked my phone again. Yup, the water really did wonders to my phone. I went to the kitchen, stripped my phone to the bone (Read: I took of the back cover, the battery, the SIM card and the memory card), and shoved the phone into the rice container. Which contains rice. Uncooked rice that is. Don’t shove your already-damaged phone into a pot of cooked rice, okay?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Lucky me, I’ve learned through the Internet of ways how to do a first-aid for water-damaged phone. Although to my defense, I never really know if it really going to work. This explains why after the next 7 hours my phone was still broken. Every time I touched the screen, this vapour like thing comes out and that scares the crap out of me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As quick as the fox who jumped over the moon, I went to my room, found my old shoe box (2 months old) and, lucky enough, found two packets of anhydrous. I took my phone, put it into a pot, took some rice and buried it with it, open the packets of anhydrous, and mixed them together. And I left it to dry for until the next morning.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My dearest survived.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, so that is the bad thing about rain. The fact is that I actually really do like rain. I’m in love with rain actually. I really do love rain. It is like the best time of the day. You know how rain can really make the hot, scorching sun, feel something more or less like a light bulb. Shines, but sucked in a whole lot of ways. Rain can actually make a really hot day, a very soothing one. And a hell lot cooler. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So it is a wonder when my friend told me that rain makes she moody and gloomy and all sort of loser. Well, then again, who cares? It all goes back to how you really see it. And by the way that I am looking at it, rain brings nothing but happiness. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But then again, every good thing always have a shadow, so does rain, even after all those elaborate stuff I told you about Malaysian traffic. With rain, comes flash flood. With flash flood, there is always a money outburst happening. Car parts broken, house interiors damaged, <i>everything</i> ruined. My house was sadly ruined by flash flood, <b>twice</b>, once <i>on</i> my birthday and another one a week later. Talk about a ‘good’ day!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">With rain also comes sickness. Which I really hate. Last week alone I spent at least 5 days down with a fever. With fever, comes headache, and I for one dreaded headache. It is like the only thing about the head that naturally happening that I hate. Seriously. Not to mention my nose, gosh! It is like an open faucet on my face, the thing won’t stop flowing! Luckily it is not those yucky-hideous-ugly-green snot thingy, it is the clear one. Sigh…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, that pretty much sums it up! I love rain, regardless of all the bad thing that it brings cause love is blind and blind people can’t see (duhh) and people incapable of seeing really don’t care what other people sees. That come out a lot better than what I had in mind! Bravo~</span></div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-16997639410332442182011-04-25T22:40:00.001+08:002011-04-25T22:42:28.115+08:00OF ASSES. AND PAVEMENTS. AND MORE ASSES.<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If I was to move from place A to place B, which so damn near, I'll walk to it. Even though I had a friend who is going to same place by car. I mean, come on, traffic and all, I'd rather spend my time walking alone. Of course there are few things that will definitely come to my consideration. Whether it is too hot, or probably I'm sweating like hell, then I might consider the air conditioner in the car. But the bottom line is, I would prefer to walk.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Okay that 'would' totally spoil it. I'll definitely walk! Now there's the confidence.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I find the topic of walking to be very interesting. You know walking is probably one of the most common ways of commuting from one place to another, and it is probably the only way of commuting in the old days (logically) apart from animal riding. But nevertheless now and then you'll end up meeting people who find walking to be very stressing and not to be forgotten, tiring.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Also sweating. And knee-killing. And lung-damaging. Whatever.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It's not that I am so crazy about walking, and I'm totally not going to go around campaigning about all the possible hazards that a car can throw at you (or rather, throw you at), but it is something that I am very enthusiastic about. I know, 'walking enthusiast? Which era you're living in? Stone Age?' Well, apparently I am and I am sorry if you failed to notice that despite that I am indeed blogging.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I just find that walking seems to be the only thing that people who thought so highly of themselves really bad at. I mean like seriously bad at. Like how bad Justin Bieber is. That bad!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Note:</b> I know I might upset many people by that last statement, but believe I don't care. It is really my own interpretation of bad. Just to please you, I think JB can sing, just that he sing the wrong song. And thanks to him, I now like David Archuleta. Nobody to blame but him.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Okay now I'm totally lost. Thank you Justin Bieber, you seem to have erased my memory. Lucky me you can't forge new memories...</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Oh, right, walking. I love to walk fast. Like really fast. I don't know why. Although I've once thought that it might be caused by the influence of foreign movies. I really do like seeing all those people, walking, without care of what really happens around them, and walk really fast, with determination towards their goal. But I'm more on the 'walk fast eyes wide open' kind of guy.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I really hate walking behind a group of males you thinks they can score a job as male models just because they have the bods and asses of a male model. I mean, seriously, you have to walk that slow? Will you just hasten up, please? I mean I have other places to go and do other than being on your butt while you shake that thing.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">That sounded bad. But, yes, I hate people you shake their asses and will not give way to me just because they think highly of themselves.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, I'm pretty tired now, I think I'm going to do something more... fun. Like reading books. And not walking. I don't walk if I'm tired. Except if I have to.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Would you like a walk?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">**********</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This is a very short update. I'm thinking of going back to my old self (an update every three days) after every possible hindrance is now out of the way and is considered as history. Wow. That sounded so good. Buhbye!</div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-23832828587967447952011-04-20T18:27:00.000+08:002011-04-20T18:27:09.205+08:00THANK YOU<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Seems like it take a very important day just to have me actually updating this lovely, dear blog of mine. Be reminded, all this time I had tried to actually make an update, only to find a writer's block and failed to do so and then played games. Although most of the time I was actually bored of playing games and tried to drive away the boredom by making a (fail) update.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, today is indeed a very special day. Very special indeed. Today marks the day that, well, I'm old.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This is bad.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Usually what people would do is pretend that they totally forgot about their own birthday, hope that their friends, besties and all are kind enough to remember the date, and throw a super-special (and fake) surprise birthday party ever! Although, in my case, I can say that I do hope for such things, but judging from my own eyes, I know I'm not any close to having even 10 birthday wishes. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Oh well, live sucks. Who cares?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Note:</b> I'm totally addicted with Samba. And also with 'Mas Que Nada'. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But that's what people usually have, or what I ever dreamed of. In reality, I really don't think it's about what people have for you, about whether that person had give you a present worth your friendship, whether you received a huge cake with your name on it and candles which amount to your age, with five years deducted from the current one that is. It's totally not.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I believe that being here, today, at my own birthday, is about what I have experience with all these amazing people all around me. My friends. These are the guys who are worthy enough to have my best wished and thanks and hugs on my own birthday, because they are willing be friend with me and stick with me up to this very day.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Although I know some of them are forced to, since I am such a guy. Anyway...</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So, yeah, shout out to all my friends. Um, let see, first off, my <span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">BFFETWRSEO </span></b></span>(best-friend-forever-even-though-we-rarely-see-each-other), my Honey Bee, Minem. Thank you for becoming my friend (gotta thank Aliah Selamat for being the middle guy). Thank you for all the experience and crazy things that we had done (which is none). Thank you for being yourself whenever we're meeting each other, and not some lunatics that I don't know. Thank you for still being here in my mind. Somehow this sentence just made me look like a total loner. Gosh. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Thank you to all my other friends (haha) that are always there for me (although I do know that I don't need you. Like seriously. Why do you have to sit there when there's thousands of other place for you to sit? Now I know that you're here! You're supposed to be else where!). You guys are the best. Especially my fellow college-mates. You guys are the pinnacle of all awesome-ness! </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To my school-mates, thank you for your willingness to spent that five/two years with me back then in school. Just so you know, you guys still stuck in my mind. All of you. I'll never forget you guys (like how I totally forgot all my primary school friends). You guys are the ones who made me into what I am today. Without you guys, I don't think I'll ever be this Iqbal Ismail. Ever. Thank you.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To all of you guys who I knew from wherever it is, although I doubt you'll ever read this, thank you. Thank you for letting my name and me myself invade your brain and occupy a portion of your memory. I hope your memory capacity are not depleted. To you guys who added me in Facebook, or even those who knew me through this blog, thank you. You guys are the best strangers I've ever know.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To my lil' sister, well, you're fat, so whatever. Don't eat to much, you're only enemy is not your eating habit or not your stomach capacity, it's your own determination. If you're determined not to eat that much of food that you can consume, I'm sure you can strive at it too. And believe me, studies are not that hard. Just try not to be distracted in class, and you're good. Oh wait this is about 'Thank You' right? Okay so thank you for becoming my lil' sister, although I know you had no choice.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To my older sister, which is much older (hahaha), thank you for becoming the World's <b style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">BESTEST-AWESOMEST-CRAZIEST-GREATEST</span></span></b> sister ever! I could never wished to have any other sister than you. Although it is worth saying that I actually never did wished for any other sister because I know just how stupid that can be. Anyway, thank you for all of what you've done for me, although I know I've actually caused many troubles for you. You are still the best sister ever. Oh yeah, thank you for all those little monsters of yours. They're the best nieces I've ever had. Well, they're the only one I have anyway, for now. Pop another one in the oven, 'kay?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To my older brother, well, you've been the biggest bother in my life. But because of that, I've learned the hard way of what family really are. Although I don't really think I get it though. But still, thank you. Despite not being the inspiration of my student life (Ani is), I still have to thank you for being the counter-part of my inspiration. You are like the 'big bad guy' that I should not become. Hahaha. This is bad... Blame Mom for it, 'kay?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> To my Mom, well, I want to give you the ever greatest HUGS and KISSES for delivering me today last 19 years. If it had been because of you (and Dad, of course), I would have not be here to write this post in such a bad way. I had to thank you for all the things that you had done for me. Although I may not look like I appreciate it, I just don't want to push you, 'cause you know you nag a lot. And by that I mean, A LOT. Like a hell lot. Anyway, I LOVE YOU!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To my Dad, thank you for being the person who always guided me down the right path. You had tried your best, that I can give you. I'm also trying my very best to follow all the things that you've taught me up until today, just don't worry about me. Focus more on yourself first. Don't worry about money and all okay? If Allah wills for it, he's going to give it to you. Just don't stress out about it. Give it your best, not the hardest. This is too long, so thank you, again.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I guess this is all. Okay then, I'm old, you've missed my birthday, and thank you.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">**********</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Shout outs to my new friends! YAAAAYY!! Ms. F and Ms. N although we only knew each other like for few weeks, I feel like I've known you long enough <strike>to get sick of you</strike>. You are the best! Especially since you're one of the 3 parties (you, Sue Anne, and my family) that actually took note of my birthday. And especially since your 'Buy 1 Free 1' voucher had filled my empty stomach with sandwich from Subway. Love it. Thank you so much. :)</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><b style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I <3 YOU ALL!</span></b></div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-50034524351896630262011-03-22T21:32:00.000+08:002011-03-22T21:32:03.081+08:00DENIAL, MY BESTFRIEND...<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I don't know why, but for this few weeks, or maybe this few months, I found it hard to update my blog. And sadly, it's becoming even harder. LOL that sounded sexy. Anyway, I have like 6 drafts with what I meant to share with the whole world only to found out that my story is only half-way through when I finally realized I'm bored with it and/or I've forgotten the whole story or the excitement I was supposed to share. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Epic. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">News flash. This is clearly a hell-hectic week. Certainly this week. Last Saturday I went to Semenyih to visit the camp-site for our Islamic Student Leadership Camp this coming weekends. That, I tell ya, is damn tiring. The place is too deep, there's no tarred road, only a simple jungle track huge enough to let at most a lorry in. There's too much rock, and waaay too much trees. Well, what too expect it is a jungle anyway.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>NOTE:</b> Okay I know I said "waaay too much trees", and I know that that had certainly made me sounded like some kind of trees hater and intend to end the life of all plants in this world, but don't worry, I'm not. In fact I love trees. I just hate them when they plan to hit me in the face while I'm struggling to record a video of the hardship of getting to the camp-site via a vidcam. Note the intended pun there.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> But, alas, like all fairy tales, they all lived happily ever after. My God, what I'm talking about? I mean, like all fairy tales, we've found our happy ending. The place is extremely beautiful.... Okay I lied. It's not <i>that</i> beautiful but it's okay, I guess. There's a lot of construction going on though. The thing is, the camp that we were supposed to go just happened to be beside our religion teacher's (ustazah) piece of land. Or maybe her pieces of land, I don't know it's huge, that's for sure. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">At that place, there are sheeps, chickens, goose (DINOSAUR!!!), dogs who befriended with a cat, and also a cat who befriended with a dog. So cute. Oh, and there's this thing that have the same colour like cucumber only that it has a pear shape and it has thorns on it. I asked my ustazah and she said it's cucumber. I'm sure she's lying. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Nothing happened much though on the camp-site. Clearly, since it is just a visit. Anyway, we had quite a good time. For the first time, I've interacted with a guy who's always in my apartment but then again keeps quite a distant from me. But hey, all things are good when we're on the outside right? Thus to know, say, a girl you like but never talked to would mean that you have to take her out, then you'll know them better right?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Gosh, for some reason I felt like I'm directing all of you guys on a very wrong, twisted direction. Let's move on.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Yesterday I presented a forum for my Islamic Studies Class. It's quite good though, for something that was prepared an hour before that. My part at least, since I was the moderator for my team. Haha, I got to tell you, that's the easiest thing in the world. Just make sure that you know who is talking about what, listen to what they have to say, and crap about what they have just said. Nice~</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Today is even better. I presented for my English class, for our theme studies. Luckily, we only have one theme, and that is JUSTICE & INJUSTICE. The sad thing is that my team went for the first group, like, for the whole class. So it was quite nerve wrecking. But once I was done with the slides and entered the Q&A session, I think I was, somehow, in peace.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Wanna know what question we did? </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>"Peace can only be found if a person is able to overcome injustice. Do you agree?"</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, it's quite good I must say. The presentation I mean. Although there are a few things that my classmates pointed out that clearly need to be amended. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, tomorrow I'm going to seat for my Maths topic test. This time it's about probability, one of those topics I really like, since we hardly need any calculator. Unless if it is a "at least one..." question. Well, even if I put it here it's not like you're gonna understand it right? Right. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then this Thursday I'm having my Biology topic test. This one, I tell you, is hard. Damn hard. The last topic test I scored 94%, which sets quite a high standard for me, myself. Thanks, myself. You've done so much to hurt this fragile, little boy. Anyway, I'm not sure if I'm gonna score as good as the previous topic test, but I'm keeping everything in my body twisted, just for the heck of it.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Friday would be my topic test for Chemistry A. I'm not gonna talk about this one, since I'm going to seat for my second second topic test. Hate it. But will try hard to strive at it.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then it's <b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">CAMP DAY</span></span></b>! YAAAYY!!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Lucky me I'm one of the committee so I don't have to do most of the activities that all the losers have to HAHAHAHAHAHAHA *evil laugh*. But the sad thing is that I have to do even more things than the losers since I'm one of the committee. Sigh. Life really know how to get back at ya, don't you think?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I don't know how to end this so I think it'll be better if I tell you guys a story. Just now, like the past 15 minutes, I was in the toilet. Peeing. And guess what? There's blood mixed with my pee! I called my Dad, and based on his experience (please, my Dad has only 1 kidney left and God knows how many time he had blood mixed in his pee), he said that probably I also got kidney stone, and some are trying to escape and that caused the bloodied pee. He said he's gonna take me to do an X-ray tomorrow. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>UPDATE!:</b> There's no more blood! Although the pee wouldn't come out. I practically have to force them out. Sheesh! </span></div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-42150522862935770882011-03-17T12:08:00.000+08:002011-03-17T12:08:29.063+08:00CHAMPION/POOR GUY<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I really do feel like a champion today. I've posted at least three posts today, all which was staying for free in my draft, wanting to be set free. Freedom. Okay whatever. Anyway if in case you were to read that other three posts, be sure to take note that I just add a few sentences to it so that I can end it without really finishing the whole story, or without sounding like I don't know what I've typed last month.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">That sounded a bit depressing. I think I wanna be a champion today.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So I've received my JPA money. AT LAST! It's not as much as what my <a href="http://resultmayvary.blogspot.com/">Honey Bee</a> got, which was double the amount that I got, but hey who cares, right? Well, no, actually I care and I hate it. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But don;t worry I'm not gonna complain how unfair life is and why people get more money than we do and way lot faster than we do when we are the nearest university to JPA but still those in Sarawak had not just received double the amount that we received, twice as fast, and seriously twice, since the first one was their last semester money, and within weeks later they received this sem's allowance. God I hate it. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But nevertheless, I did received the money. I've bought a new phone. Again. And this time I made sure to buy a phone for my Dad too. He is currently undergoing dialysis, since his kidneys are all bad, I mean his kidney since he only has one left. Anyway, I bought two and that made me a poor guy. Like I've always been.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I've spent like RM 1800.00 in matters of A week. ONE week. SEVEN days. That's cool right? The moment I've become rich is the moment I've become poor. or maybe I such say it like this. No matter how much money there is in my account I am still not that rich. Yep, that sounded way better.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, whatever. I think I'm going to end this post here, for I have a <a href="http://talknrant.blogspot.com/2011/03/another-word-for-stupid.html">writer's block</a>.</div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-36532516366778019652011-03-17T11:56:00.000+08:002011-03-17T11:56:49.171+08:00ANOTHER WORD FOR STUPID<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Be aware that through this second attempt of doing a very proper blog post in an hour, I am trying to figure out another word that can be use to describe the word 'stupid'.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, just so you know, I had already made like three drafts for an update for this thing. Um, I mean blog. But sadly, even with those three drafts, I can't really figure out what to say, or rather, how to say precisely without sounding like I am desperately in need of an uppercut punch straight to my face.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In another word, stupid.Or another word for stupid, would be, writer's block. It simply means that the writer is stupid, so he has a block of whatever in front of him. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">THE END!</span></b></span></div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-23824175361679313972011-03-17T11:55:00.001+08:002011-03-17T11:57:00.049+08:00WHAZZZZZZZZUP? (~ 0 ~)<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Whazzup? I kinda like that word. It meant a lot, yet, it is way so simple.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Whazzup? Nothing much. i think life is great, if you love the amount of lemons it gave you everyday freaking day. Ever heard about the joke about lemon and grapes? Well I kinda bumped into one while reading some of those 'like' pages in Facebook. The one without almost hundreds of pages going on and on about liking this and that. Most of it are shit though, because it is practically the same thing, either it is:</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1) copied and pasted,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">2) re-typed,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">3) made by someone who still thinks that Marilyn Monroe is a sex goddess of 2011, and</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">4) re-typed by someone who clearly aren't fit enough to enter a spelling bee competition for the 6th graders</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, the joke is about lemon and grapes right? You know the saying, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade out of it"? Well, there this one about lemon, life, and grapes, and it goes like this, "When life gives you lemons, look up at the sky and shout 'Why can't I get fucking grapes? I like wine better than lemonade!'". Yup, words of wisdom. Gotta love that!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Oh, but don't get me wrong. I don't drink. Never have, and hopefully never will have to. It is clearly against my religion. Plus, don't you guys know that drinking can cause you liver damage? I mean, of course you get all high, hot and stuffs, but seriously if your liver had a mouth, all you can hear in the morning is your liver calling you a 'lousy drinker' and that you are 'making me sick of it, literally' instead of your head banging like there's no tomorrow.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Okay. Anyway, yup, nothing's up. I borrowed my sister-in-law's laptop to do my assignments, which involve all my subjects, but clearly blog updating is not my assignment. Well, at least not the one assigned by my lecturer! Aha, I'm good with it. Gosh...</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Okay that's all for today! Daa~~</div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-68426131758515498662011-03-17T11:52:00.000+08:002011-03-17T11:52:50.971+08:00EPICNESS DEPICTED...<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I think I live a life full of epic-ness. Well, at least I think I do.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Yesterday, I went back to my apartment late at night, armed with 5 friends, which among all of us, had no idea what so ever in front of us. We took the latest bus, the 10 PM bus. Oh so we thought it was. There was no bus. There was a freaking, yellow, small, fragile, van.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Gosh, I hate my life.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">There was probably around a dozen of guys wanting to ride that freaking old van. At least we managed to squeezed into it. What made it all epic was the fact that the row I was sitting in, besides F, could actually fit another person. But nobody was ever bothered with it. Epic.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Since the van was a full-house, it started moving almost immediately. Thank God. But another thing came toour way that we totally had not thought about. Usually, from our university, to go back to casa, we would had, and would always will, turn to the right. That night, the freaking van turned left.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I thought we were going to the pyramid and do some late night shopping with the van driver, since I don't really have any money with me and all I can think of was shopping since I only turn left from university if I'm going to pyramid. After thinking about how nice the road was, I noticed we reached this some kind of weird and odd place.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Apart from the beautiful night scenery, and the fact that I was so sleepy that I cursed myself for even looking out the window rather than sleeping, I noticed that we've reached this very alien place. Not that I care about it.... Okay now I think I am lost. This ends here. Bye. <--- Epic ending. <span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">EPIC</span></b></span> I tell you!</div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-86944581683350275732011-03-08T11:00:00.000+08:002011-03-08T11:00:20.529+08:00UPDATED.<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Right now, I sighing as long as I think possible to even be call as a sigh (2 seconds). At last I've updated my blog. Maybe I should put it into a story...</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">********** </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">"...At last, as I enter the dusty, dark, and humid attic, I saw just how badly the attic was damaged by time. I looked across the attic, knowing that without any light, there's hardly anything for me to see. I saw a glimpse of light coming from an old window that was shut against its will. I walked to the window - as careful as I can. I don't want to knock down any valuable stuff in here; I might just destroy an item worth displaying in my soon-to-be museum antique shop. I tore down the old, dusty curtain, which felt like paper. Got to be the work of time and aging, I thought to myself. I pushed the window. A beam of light when straight in, so bright that it brought everything in the attic back to life. I turned around, and was amazed to see just how much things -valuable and irreplaceable items - were kept up here, away from life, and those who values them..."</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">********** </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Yup. That's how I should've put it. Any, it's official. I'VE UPDATED MY BLOG! HELL YEAH!</div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-17461101117899501792011-02-25T17:04:00.000+08:002011-02-25T17:04:30.694+08:00ALIVE<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This is me, saying to the world,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">I'M STILL ALIVE!</span></span></b></div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-4814636348838632352011-02-14T19:09:00.000+08:002011-02-14T19:09:38.363+08:00STUPID DAY<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Guess what? It's Valentine's Day bitch! And I'm still single.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Bummer.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, yesterday was my not-that little-and-oversize younger sister. So, well, happy birthday!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I don't know why but we (Muslims) are not allowed to celebrate Valentine's day because Valentine was supposed to be a saint and clearly a day that is to celebrate a clergyman is not a day to be celebrated by any Muslims. But still when my friend yelled "Happy Valentine's Day", wear a huge grin, shocked my hand, and made a hand hug, who am I to say,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>"Fuck off I don't do Valentine's Day, okay?"</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Someone argued saying that us Muslims are not a loving community just because we don't celebrate Valentine's day. Well, if that's the case, I am very sorry. I never knew that to be a part of the community who are all loving, understanding, can feel pain and love at the same time, we have to celebrate Valentine's Day just for the heck of it.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Then again, who cares if you celebrate it or not right? I mean, why are you treating someone who you claimed to love oh-so-dearly so special today when you have the rest of the 355 and a quarter day to tell him/her that you love him? OMG I tell you, people and their mentality just makes you wonder why, why, and why?!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Also I had my first Chemistry topic test today. I don't know how to say it. I mean it was not that hard, then again it might have been just as hard as I think it might have not. Understand? Well, whatever. For all I know I still have a lot of research projects to finish, and by a lot I mean every freaking subject. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It is kind of stupid, and it really does left me wondering. I mean, why the hell do we need to do a research for Mathematics? Isn't it kind of, weird? Well, at least it is for me. Maths are supposed to be about numbers and not about doing surveys and reports. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway wanna hear about my Maths research? Well, my teammates and I have agreed on doing a research that is related to Valentine's day, again, just for the heck of it. So we are now doing a research on the relationship between taking your time to know somebody before you guys become official and the length of your relationship.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So basically, we're saying that the longer you took the time to know somebody, to know them well enough before you know you're in love, the longer you're relationship will last. Hopefully. I had done a little bit of my survey - each of us had to do 20 surveys - and somehow it proves it right. Although I might add that all the 'victims' had probably never experience 'real love'.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Neither do I, so that's gotta suck.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Do you guys believe in true love? Like, really really true love. Not that "OMG I freaking love you that if someone throw a grenade at you I'll throw the grenade back at them" kind of true love.The kind of true love where you know it's there, and you both feel it, but then again it's too far for you to reach?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I don't know why but that last sentence made me sick. Anyway, my version of true love is what I've shared with my brother. I'm not talking about we sharing the same 'true love' but more like we're sharing the same understanding of 'true love'. God, I hate you guys. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And myself.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, we don't really believe in love, to begin with. What we believe is more about 'friendship', and how from 'friendship', when you know you've both met the right guy, it will change into 'special friendship'. These 'special friendship' is more than that of a normal 'friendship', thus the 'special', but it does wonder.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I've always wondered myself, what happened to a girl/boy who was dumped by the other half? Do they avoid each other? What happened then when they go to the same school? Or worst, the same class? Do they avoid each other, treat each other like they had never talked to each other? Does all the effort of knowing each other and being there just to keep each other accompanied, laughing at one's joke really does ends when you break up?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Thus what I believe in. 'Special friendship'. It is kind of like 'lover' but instead of claiming that guy to be the love of your life, you say that you have a 'special someone'. Sounds cliche and everything, but at least you don't have to do things that you didn't do before.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Like before, when you were just 'friends' you make jokes, you hurt each other, crawl at their nerves, you know, those things you do just to annoy the hell out of your friend. But when you become lovers, everything change. You have to text each others, keep the other half updated to the littlest, stupidest thing you're doing. That surely sucks.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But with my 'special friend' I don't have to. I can still annoy the hell out of her, I can still make stupid jokes about her and her bad habits, but because of the connection we share, it make things more, well, special in a way. This sounds so cheeky and cheesy and very salesman-like. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, it is what I believe, although I have not achieved it yet. It might take time, finding that 'special someone', nobody said it doesn't, but the time loss in knowing one another by heart is a time gain in keeping the relationship alive. This is cheesy too, thank you.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, at least this is what I believe and how I sees it. So what is your definition of love? I hope it is not sex and love-bite, 'cause if that is all you see in love, girl, you gotta go and find a counselor A.S.A.P.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So, in the end, all I wanna talk about was that 1) Yesterday was my giant little sister's birthday, and 2) Today is Valentine's day and I don't give a damn about it. It is just a normal, boring, and stupid day anyway. You're welcome, buhbye! </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>P/s:</b> I am so not condemning today because I never have a 'special someone' before, or because I'm a Muslim, or because I have no love. I just don't see the point of today. Anyway tomorrow is Prophet Muhammad S.A.W.'s birthday, so make sure you pray for him, <b><i>if</i></b> you are a Muslim and you're creeping in my blog, looking for nothing. </span></div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-56410459289774049612011-02-11T17:59:00.002+08:002011-02-11T18:00:43.498+08:00REAL MATURE...<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Have you ever wondered just how mature you are when compared to an average maturity of a human for your age? If you tried to Google that out, you'd be what I call, stupid.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I don't know why, but I had always wanted to do a post regarding maturity. Not because I think that I am mature, well, maybe a little bit, but because somebody mentioned about this thing recently. And by recently I mean last month, which, I think is about, hmph, let see, three, four weeks before? </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So anyway, the story goes this way. I was having my normal morning. Luckily, the bus arrived like after several minutes of me standing there and making a joke out of myself by laughing to myself, thanks to the sweet technology namely mp3 and radio. So anyway, the bus arrived, me and my friend, whom I shall refer to as Boroy, boarded the bus.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Note:</b> I know 'Boroy' rhymes with 'boroi', but she's none. I just wanted the sound of it.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, while waiting for the freaking stupid driver to move, I looked outside of the window. I don't know why, but almost everyday, when the bus is fully loaded, as in like each seats had already serves it purpose and was being seated on, the bus will still wait for another, I don't know few minutes, for no obvious reasons. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The only reason I can think of was to annoy the hell out of the people who was a bit late and telling them straight to their faces that they are, obviously, late. *sad face*</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I sat somewhere at the back, and Boroy was seating with her Sabahan friend. I can't really remember who was seating besides me, not that he was any important. Or maybe it's a she. Whatever. I like seating at the back, and I always like to seat wherever there is a place where both seats are empty. I like looking at the faces people wear when the only seat available is beside me and they had that doubtful look in their face and look around for any other empty seats. I feel like saying, "Don't worry honey, it'll be a <i>smooth</i> ride". </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: left;">While enjoying my view (read: sad faces of late people), I saw the fat guy. <a href="http://talknrant.blogspot.com/2011/01/those-first-days.html"><i><b>The</b></i> fat guy</a>. Almost instantly, I smiled, or maybe it's more like smirked. Anyway, my friend, Boroy, she had a little bit of problem with fat guy also. You can just say that the fat guy just know how to annoy the hell out of all the girls in the college. Anyway, since I saw him, I texted Boroy, saying,<i> </i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>"Weih, pakwe ko dekat luar tuh. Ajak ah dia masuk, kesian dia..."</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It was really funny. And what happened after that was even funnier. We had a bit of text-fighting, all thanks to my first text to her. We texted each other, until like before we reached our college, when Boroy mentioned that I was behaving like a child. I told her back that she was a freaking old granny.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Whenever people talk about maturity, I get really worked up. But not the OMG-I-FREAKING-HATE-YOU-WHY-YOU-HAVE-TO-DISAGREE-WITH-EVERYTHING-I-SAID work up, but more like worked up in my mind. I always think that people who thinks that other people are immature, are an immature themselves. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">For once, we can't really tell how mature is mature. It's like trying to figure out the liquidity of liquid. It's stupid. People are born mature, just that they can't see that. I believe that behaving maturely is just a matter of choice. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Like when you are with your friends, making jokes about other people and all (don't deny it!), don't you feel like you're not acting as mature as you would behave when you're in a meeting or so?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">That's when my mind starts to question my (jeng jeng jeng) own mind. How can somebody tell just how mature they are? How can somebody know that they are matured? Is it because of the wet dreams, or because you peed blood on your own pants? (My friend's description of her first experience. Nice.)</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Or is it because you can really tell what is wrong and what is right? What not to do and what to do more? Or are you mature when you know what you want and can achieve it yourself, without wanting others to help you? Is that it? Then I think even a 3 months old baby can figure that out. That's easy!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hungry ---> Cry</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Attention ---> Cry</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Poo-poo ---> Cry</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">More milk ---> Cry</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Peek-a-boo ---> LOL!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">See? Then are they called as matured? Well I don't think so. What I call 'mature' is actually kind of twisted. For me, being matured would be knowing, and embracing yourself for who you really are. Woah, that's deep. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well to make it simple, for me, being a 'matured person' would be to know and be yourself. As in like, you know when to behave like a child and when to behave like an adult, and when to be none. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I just remembered this fight I had with my other girl-friend, whom I shall call FS (I can see someone smiling...). She is from somewhere in the southern part of Malaysia, and so was my Mom and her whole lot, lot, lot, freaking lot of family. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, not that bad, but it is often used in a bad way. So, BAD!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">But she said that the people back in her place always use it as an alternative for the word 'yawn'. That really made me wondering. I asked around. The only Southerners I knew, well the only three I knew right now was on her side.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">All my relatives (read: old people) know nothing about it, but somebody did mentioned that it is only used by younger generations. Which, at the end, explains everything. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, because of that, we had like a very nasty, R-rated fight. Just imagine a group of guys, calling a single girl, with a bad word and the girl shouting back the same word. Thinking about it sends me shivers.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, that guys, is what I call as a truly 'matured' people. Really.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, whatever. You are who you are (thanks Ke$ha) and you are the only one who know what you really are. You actually control your own maturity. If you still think that just because you experienced a freaking awesome dream about you putting in a sausage into a girl's folded tortilla and woke up the next morning feeling all sticky and stuff would make you a matured man, then be it. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Or it's okay if you think you're matured once you pee blood. I don't mind, not really.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>P/s:</b> I know I had not updated my blog for a long time, but then again I know that people don't really care about my blog. So then, why should I care, right? </span></div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-43225653625190567052011-02-03T15:16:00.000+08:002011-02-03T15:16:05.379+08:00INEVITABLE CATASTROPHE<div style="color: #444444; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">PREVIOUSLY ON MY BLOG...</span></b></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I don't have a single idea of what to write here and I don't really know what kind of snip-it I should put here. So I think you should really just <a href="http://talknrant.blogspot.com/2011/01/those-first-days.html">go to my previous post</a> to know just what had happened to me when I went to Venice during my class trip.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If you believe that you're a moron. You're welcome!</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">**********</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The lift started to move. I ignored almost everything else as I know it would be damn long before it reaches the 23<sup>rd</sup> floor. Suddenly, the lift started to make like some stupid noise. And then.......</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The lift jerked a bit. I looked up to the floor display when suddenly the lift stopped. On the display, it says P1 (parking). Seconds later, there was only two red line on the display. It looks something like this</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">--</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Everybody suddenly started cursing, moaning (?), and sighing. I looked at N and F. They both wore a bored face. Maybe a bored face with a hint of worry. Maybe, because I was wearing the same face. I looked at the back. There were several guys starting to curse and swear. Several Chinese girls in the middle were talking loudly, in Chinese, obviously.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Behind me there were two Malay girls, doing nothing, as if like they don't give a damn about the lift stopping. Maybe they were too shocked to actually respond. You know, like seeing a damn huge snake, you'll probably freaked out more than you know, that when your brain screams RUN, all you could do is pee in your pants.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Or probably those girls already peed in their pants. I don;t know.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Since I was standing nearest to the button panel, I took the pleasure of hitting the alarm button and also the emergency call button. I did that for like some good 10 - 15 seconds when finally realized just how annoying those buttons can be. I stopped hitting the button and stand there thinking why it had to be me.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">F looked at me, and said</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>"Rugi R takde kat sini..."</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I couldn't agreed more. He should have been there. At least I can make fun of him. That sounded bad. Moving on...</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">About several seconds later, I suddenly remembered something. I looked up, up above the display panel. There, pasted on the lift's wall, high above the panel, was a noticed, by the maker of the lift. Sadly, I seriously thought the maker of the lift, or at least the company, was called the 'Moron Institution'. The name is Daison Khruedpt.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Note:</b> Since I am not planning to pay or have any kind of law suits, I've tried my best in translating the real name into somewhat Japanese. Don't ask me why. But in case if you're wondering how, I used my imagination.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The notice somehow doesn't appeal to anyone. Actually I was wondering just how many people knew about the note. I mean, the note was placed in a place too high that is not convenient for people to read. You either had to awkwardly cramped your neck just to read it, or stand at the back wall of the lift just to notice it, but by then you can't really read it. Unless if you have a pair of magnifying and X-ray eyes.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Don't ask me why X-ray. Anyway, I knew about the notice because I've clearly read it once. And also since I don't really care about cramping my neck in an awkward way. So be it. I took out my phone, but then I glanced to F. I told him to call that company. He said his phone is out of credit.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Gosh, we should all just use postpaid instead of prepaid. Especially when we are all bound to have emergencies. Anyway, I called the number that the notice provided. There was not much of signal in the lift, but still I ignored it and call. Sadly, my phone can't connect, the line was suddenly cut off.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Annoyed, I tried again. While waiting for the line to connect, I heard some of the jerks at the back making some stupid jokes about calling a Dato' or something. I just don't get it. The line connected, and it got me talking to a male receptionist.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>"Daison Khruedpt emergency help line. How can I help you?"</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Well, you can help me by changing the whole freaking lifts here in the apartment, was what came to my mind. "Umm, we kind of in the lift, and the lift is stuck". He asked me in which building. That question left me wondering just how many building they had supplied with their totally stupid lift services.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">He also asked just how many people were there in the lift. I told him 15. I should have told him "3 guys, 7 girls, and 5 morons". Lucky for me the morons know that when people are talking to their phone, they should keep their mouth shut. The receptionist told me that he would send someone as soon as possible, that we should not panic, and also that it would probably take a little bit of time.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Time is exactly what we really do mind. Well, at least me. I glanced at my watch, and it was 8 something, I don't really remember. I put my bag on the floor, along side to my bottle. Curious about the door, I told N to help me open the lift's door. He looked at me, tried a little bit, and left me pushing the door alone. Lucky me, F got my back, or should I say, the other side of the door.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The door opened a little bit, so I put my hand in between them and pulled the door open. I thought I could see something like the other side of the door. Sadly, what's in front of me was a cement wall covered with a layer of zinc, two pictures drawn using a blue marker pen, and about an inch and a half of the door on level P1.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">At least the other member of the lift was very glad that the door was finally opened. They was afraid that we was in an air-tight lift, and we had to share a limited supply of oxygen. Knowing that we were stucked with a group of moron suddenly got me worried over the same thing.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Time passes by. The silent girl behind me got tired of waiting, and she pressed the alarm button and the call button. If something was meant to happen, it surely had happened. But then again, I spoke too soon. About a year later (being in a lift filled with people surely had made the time flies even faster, probably at the speed of light), we all heard something from a loud speaker located slightly above the button panel.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">What we heard can be described as the static noise that we usually hear from the radio, usually when the signal is not too good. The loud speaker went on crackling up, but no exact words can be heard. So I ignored it and started to worry about other things, namely, nothing.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As I mentioned earlier, the wall, or actually, the zinc layer have had two drawings on it, made using a blue marker. I was fascinated by it, and one of the Moron Five mentioned that there had to be others who were stuck on the same position as we were. That was a very clever deduction.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">After another 15 years, I asked F if he had Mr. D's number. Mr. D is our management representative. And by our, I meant my fellow S University's students. Every students who were placed there by the university hostel's management were under Mr. D's supervision.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Luckily, F do have. Actually I know he have that number, because he had repeatedly left his keys in his locked room. Clever guy, ain't he? Anyway, he gave me Mr. D's number and I rang him up. I was trying to tell him the situation we're in, when he suddenly told me to hold on. I couldn't even make out what he was trying to say, but suddenly I heard the phone was being put down, a baby cried, and Mr. D's voice telling that kid to shut the hell up.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">That's rude. He didn't say that. That was just me trying to act a little bit of aggressive. Anyway, he probably calmed down his baby, and then he spoke to me. He asked me what happened, how it happened, who was with me, and whatnot. At the end, he told me not to panic, and that he'd make sure that help would be there as soon as possible.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As far as I can remember, including Mr. D's 'don't panic' pep talk, that's the 2nd one. And I would really like to emphasis that I was not panic, just annoyed to the fact that freaking lift was broken.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Looking at the boring zinc-layered wall, I decided that I wanted to cheer up the solemn wall. I took out my own black marker pen, and thinked of what to write on the grey wall. After some thinking, I wrote;</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>"Stuck here on 27th January 2011"</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I was thinking about adding something like "On the year iPad was made available in our country, we were still stuck in lifts...". I was pretty sure that will do the trick in showing just how pathetic it was to still be stuck in an elevator, but then again, oh who cares?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">After that, or should I say, after what seems to be a century later, the morons on the back started making some noise. Again. Well, I think I've skipped some of the noises they made because I really don't want to highlight just how annoying it was, and I also would love to reduce the number of made-up stories in my already packed with made-up stories. Sheesh.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, like I told you earlier, one of the guys own an iPhone, I think. Anyway, these guys were acting all clever and they tried to 'shoot' the door open, via their iPhone guns app. I hated it. All sounds no action, It's like the dog who barked at the hill. Or maybe, they are more like the hyenas who laughed at the lion. Don't get it? Try imagine the lion is eating a dead bull, and the hyenas are just laughing from a distant.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;">********** </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Don't you think this post is going to be a hell lot longer? I think this post is long enough, so I'll make a quick end to this. By giving you an awkward, out-of-the-place, summary of the whole stories, at the end of the post, in a single paragraph.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b style="color: orange;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Summary:</span></b> We took the lift, the lift stucked. Everybody wasn't panic but instead grew tired of this lift ordeal. I called the 'brilliant' elevators' company, he said help will be there A.S.A.P. The 5 morons in the elevator were acting like what their name suggest they would. My friend and I opened the door of the elevator only to reveal proves of living organisms there, which we all suggest, victims of the stupid elevator. I called Mr. D who was clearly have not enough hand to help us out. I called the company again, he told me '30 minutes'. After spending roughly about 40 minutes in the lift, help finally arrived. We got out of the lift somewhere around 9.30 PM. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Gosh, If I knew the whole story can be cut into a single paragraph, I would have done it earlier. Or maybe I just like to exaggerate stuffs and also highlight the undeserving parts of the story. Did I tell you that 'prince charming on a white horse' is so gay? Hrm, never thought about it that way, have you? Daa~~ </div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-84114022729344672042011-01-28T19:34:00.000+08:002011-01-28T19:34:05.707+08:00THOSE FIRST DAYS...<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">What do you think about 'first day'? People often associate first days with anxiety, social-awkwardness, sadness, betrayal, and even, sadly, love at the first sight. Or what I would call as perverted thing to do in your first day. Anyway, that is what people usually do. And by people, I really do mean myself. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
Somehow I managed to belittle myself in so many wrong way with just a single paragraph. Well what I mean by that last sentence would be 'what I could think of'. I mean things like what I've typed above really do happen in real life. Some guys, especially me always put 'first day' and 'anxiety' side by side. They are like a couple that could not be separated in any possible way. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
Whatever. I'm not going to talk about my first day here. But more like how yesterday became a day filled with 'first day' in something so random. It's definitely not my regular first day, which is, just for your information, every single day. I don't know why I have the tendency to treat every freaking day like a first day. Maybe I have a self-conscious problem. Maybe a serious one.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
So, let begin my story with something fun. Which in a laymen term, money. Hahaha. If you found money, in no way you could think of, as fun, then you really shouldn't be living in this time. You should probably just attempt to turn back the time and go to some kingdom that practice barbaric way of life and barter system. That would really be good for you.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway...</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
Yesterday was the first day in my life that I've hold a really large sum of money. How large? Only a total of RM 1,500.00 and something cents. Not large enough? Fair enough, but still just how often you get the chance to hold a money that much for 48 hours?<br />
<br />
Walked around with that much of money in your clutch (yes I use a clutch instead of some manly wallet made out of crocodile skin that you shot using your Desert Eagle, don't ask me why, I just do) and people, or possible-thief/snatchers not knowing that you have that much of money in it. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Now, don't get me wrong. That money wasn't for me to spend. Today I added another RM1000.00 into my clutch and finished everything up within seconds. I used it to pay for my one science subject that I'm taking, as I currently adding a sort of illegal subject into my program. It's 'sort of illegal' since I am a sponsored student and my sponsor body didn't know I'm paying for it. I just hope they will not know anything about it. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Yesterday was also the first day in my life that a girl told me to what I did was gay. Well, imagine what you want whatever I might be doing then, as I know the true story, but it really did went straight to my conscious. It was like some kind of poison, seeping into your heart at the pace of a gold-medalist riding a freaking super fast horse with a freaking huge jet pack. That, is exactly what I felt when she told me that. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
So, what happened is probably not what you have imagined like. I did not stared at some guy while rubbing my chest, or anything. I was lying down on the grass while thinking why the heck I was there at that particular time. Prior to lying on the grass, I had walked back and forth from my college foyer to the front gate for a good 4 times.<br />
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To help you out, I can say that going from the front gate and the foyer, it would be something like a 3 minutes walk, and judging from the pace that I usually walk, it would be around 200 meters? So you can say that I had already walked something more that 300 meters.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Not much of walking I could say. Anyway, since I don't plan on walking, alone, back to my casa (apartment), I chosen to stay with my friends. So that was the reason why I was lying on the grass. Another reason would be that I don't want to hear or see another group of people there who were singing and playing guitar, when both of what they were doing is exactly what I hoped I can do, but sadly my hope is yet to be accomplished. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Another reason would be because I really don't know where to look at as the field is filled with half naked guys playing the gayest sport ever (soccer) and on the other side of the road, there are gangs of people doing exactly nothing. So I'd rather look at the trees and the sky, which was just shy of shining up. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">While I was lying down on the grass, my friends were on either side of me, talking about something that really don't interest me one bit, some standing, the other some sitting. Suddenly this one big guy (I want to say 'fat', but then...) stood up and made a stupid attempt of faking to run away from me. He turned around, 'rushed' towards me as fast as a dying cat can, then tried to elbow drop my stomach (I've tried finding the correct term, only to find a <a href="http://www.google.com.my/imglanding?q=famous+wrestling+moves+list&um=1&hl=en&client=firefox-a&sa=N&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&tbs=isch:1&tbnid=a29IT0JZ__6fhM:&imgrefurl=http://bitsandpieces1.blogspot.com/2007_04_08_archive.html&imgurl=http://www.jonco48.com/blog/illegal_20move.jpg&ei=oo1CTf37DIOycbn3ufoN&zoom=1&w=456&h=352&iact=rc&oei=fI1CTcaSMM_HrQfb5bn6Dw&esq=3&page=3&tbnh=163&tbnw=219&start=47&ndsp=24&ved=1t:429,r:1,s:47&biw=1280&bih=802">really gay pic</a>. Gosh, talk about coincidence). </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Although all of his stupid attempts, he still managed to land wrongly. So he inched closer to me, just to really make so that his elbow really did dropped on my stomach. But instead, he choose to just place his arm there. My friends were already looking. For some very odd reason, he went on and move even closer to me. Being the reasonable guy that I was, I ignored him because I know he'd do nothing stupid in front of this so many people when he dubbed himself the title 'ladies man'. More like 'the man who chased around ladies'. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It turns out to be, even my ability to reason failed me when my girl-friend suddenly cried out</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; text-align: center;"><i>"Sumpah gila gay korang ni..."</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">That, coming from my girl-friend, really did the job. I lifted my feet, kicked that fat-ass away (I was mad so he is a fat-ass), and immediately jerked-up in the most fashionable way ever. Or so I say. We end up walking to the Pyramid and had dinner there, where I had another one of my 'first day.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Yesterday was my first day of ever eating a Japanese dish. Okay let me rephrase that, as I've eaten sushi before. That was my first day of ever eating a Japanese noodle dish. Okay that's good. Once we were in Pyramid, we went straight to the food court in Jusco. It's cheaper there. But the bad thing about food court is that you sometimes just lost track of what to eat and your budget and all.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Knowing that I have RM 1,500.00, I wasn't scared at all. So I went to this Japanese food section. They only sells noodle, so there's no bento set or anything. I really love to try one, but then again I don't know what is a 'kakiage' or 'ebi ten' or even the 'kanuki'. So I asked the guy there. Amazingly enough, they even have the type of noodles used in each dishes, which you can choose. They have udon, soba, and also cha soba. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Note:</b> If you don't know what the heck I talked about, please remember, there's always Google. Ask him. Or her. Ask IT. I'm sure Google knows everything. Almost. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So I end up paying RM 7.30 for a Chicken Teriyaki Soba. From what the cook there told me, soba is a noodle made out of oat, although Wikipedia argued that soba is made out of buckwheat flour. Anything is good for me. It turns out to be, the flavour of soba is namely nothing. It doesn't taste anything like oat, nor buckwheat. It taste like, nothing.<br />
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But when combined with the heavy taste of soy sauce in the gravy and also my favourite taste of seaweed and two pieces of coloured fish cakes, it taste heavenly. Well, almost. I still thinks that the dish tasted a bit salty, thanks to the soy sauce. But oh well, who cares, it's Japanese, not a Malaysian dish. So I won't argue much.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Yesterday was also my very first day experiencing a stupid incident. It is so stupid, I thought I might just call it as a stupid 'piece-of-shit'. It is so stupid that it is not even worth to be called as an incident. Stupid, yet, amazingly enough, every amusing in it's own way. Let me gives you some hint. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1) I live in an apartment building. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">2) I live on the 23<sup>rd</sup> floor. Total floor is 25, excluding the car park floors (3 floors) and also the ground floor.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">3) I uses the elevator (almost) every day to go up or down. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">4) Sometimes, usually in the morning, I'd rather run down the stairs than wait for the elevator to be empty of stupid, loud, stinky bitches.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">5) The elevators probably never gone through any inspections of any sort. For years.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So can you guess what's the stupid 'piece-of-shit' that happened to me? Well, let me tell you the story. It happened after the Japanese dish that I had in Pyramid's Jusco. So we went back to Casa by public bus. I kind of separated from my friends. I can't blame them, I walked with such a huge stride, and they have just a normal length of feet. So sad.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, en route to the lifts, I passed by my friend. He was, also, walking slow. I don't really have the time to ask him all the details of why he was there at that kind of time, so I stride on. I'm wondering whether 'stride on' is a correct term. But still, I moved on. I pressed frantically on the lifts' call button, like there's no tomorrow. There are three call buttons, and 4 lifts. One for each end, while the middle one for the two lifts in the middle. Although I might say that all the call button call all the lifts. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">While frantically calling the lifts via the call button, I noticed that the call button on the left wasn't on. So I went there instead and pressed on it once, calmly. Then I saw my friend. Let just call him N as there will definitely be more friends on the way to the end of this story. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">While waiting fro the lift, my other comrades arrived on the 'waiting bay'. They are F and R. Well, something definitely happened, as suddenly the leftmost lift was open and then people were rushing into it. Inside there were already people, guys to be exact. They looked like jerks to me. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I went inside with N and F. I noticed R was standing kind of far away from the lift, looking rather shocked that we went inside. I looked over my shoulder, there are definitely spaces, at least enough for a skinny person like him. I was about to call him inside when the lift closed it's door. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The lift started to move. I ignored almost everything else as I know it would be damn long before it reaches the 23<sup>rd</sup> floor. Suddenly, the lift started to make like some stupid noise. And then....... TO BE CONTINUED, as I'm on my way home for Chinese New Year break. Daaa~~</div>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8318923459277773237.post-10519506925701060362011-01-26T17:58:00.000+08:002011-01-26T17:58:32.293+08:00WEIRD DAY...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today, unlike any other day, was somehow special for me. Well, from the surface, nothing really happened today. I mean, I was not lost in some misguided bus ride, lost without much knowledge of how to get back to the one road that you know, lost without anyone really there to point the right way out to you.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yet, today is indeed special in it's own way. Probably one of it's own special kind.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today, I woke up to realize that I had scarred myself. Not like, 'OMG she left me and now I'm here all alone' scarred. I don't even have, own, or share anybody that can really leave me. It is literally scar. It felt like blister, but I can't really see it since it is at my neck, and from my friends observation it is more like a day old blister, all scabbed and stuffs. Yuck. Yesterday morning I woke up and got my middle finger cut, for absolutely no reason, now this. I hope tomorrow I'll wake up to my legs bleeding from some sort of scratch or whatnot.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My Chemistry teacher also seems to have a little bit of a problem today. Well not much actually. I just guess that she was going through her job description, which is to 'educate us' and probably to 'make the student a better man'. She asked me to talk about Valentine's day, and whether we should celebrate it as the usual way or not.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She asked me to talk about whether we should really celebrate it or will we only make all the salesmen rich by us buying their products and stuffs.Although when she first told me what to talk about, a.k.a. Valentine's Day, I already had something at the back of my head.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I wanted to talk about the one day that probably not many people know about. It's about the Rose Bud Festival. People usually only recognised Valentine's Day as the only day to honour your lover, when in fact, every 25th April, every year, you can really do the same thing, all over again, but instead of a whole bunch of flower, you only celebrate it with a single rose, be it fully bloomed or what.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But I might not just talk about that. That is probably boring. Or at least it will be boring if I tell the whole now. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've also realized another thing today. That is, usually, there is always some kind of flaws that we human can find in another human. Be it physical, emotional, behavioral, or even the way the other human think. I learned that through ISAT (International Student Admission Test), which is solely for students who are going to universities based in Australia. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, anyway, today we learned about 'logical fallacies'. And through this, I've learned the horrid truth. Every man is for himself, and himself alone. No man can ever satisfy other people while being ignorant of what's happening to himself. Well, at least that is what i thought. My teacher told us that every thought, every word is flawed in a way, and that we should be really careful now in what we are reading as now we know that these flaws exist. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Although I might add that not all are flawed, but a large amount of it are really flawed, so we should really be careful of what we are reading. You might want to add my blog as the list of what reading sources that you should be careful with. I never thought that I was going to learn this skill ever, but now that I know this is what I'm going to get through ISAT, you can practically say that I am very happy. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What's more, today I had just renewed my determination of getting myself a guitar. I don;t really know why I want to buy it. I mean, I know that I love to sing with this no good voice of mine, but why I need a guitar is more like a self-satisfaction thing. I mean, I don't really play guitar, heck, I've never even strum a guitar, but with the idea of getting myself a guitar, you can say that I've made my mind on what what to do with my money now. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My research still have a far way to go. I guess I'm ought to do a lot this coming Chinese New Year's holidays. I heard of this band, the Dashboard Confessional, but I don't really know what song, as in what song that really caught my attention. So I've tried searching for it but then again nothing really sings to me apart from this one song. Well I guess I can really try to search for that song. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Know any other good song? I could really use new songs in my MP3. But please, no songs that I can;t sing to it because it is in a foreign language. Yuck. I hate people who loves Korean songs, but then again never really know what the heck it means. Not even a single word. Can't seem to find the purpose of listening to it in the first place. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I guess this is enough of ranting. I could really use a good rest now. Buhbye. Type again if I can find anything worth typing here!</span>Iqbal Ismailhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03812649701744726151noreply@blogger.com1