get up, poet
the bench isn't going to hold you weight any longer
explain to me why my wings won't fly to me to the setting sun
but to the pages of your hard cover notebook.
listen to me, poet
the gospel is at its last verse
let me recite to you the last few lines of an old symphony.
poet, poet
will science salvage me
or will i remain to be the butterfly
fixed on a poet's notebook?
day after day; carried away by the passing of days, blurry eyes caught in glimpses of pixelated neon lights at a distant place.
i wake up at the first few lines of a song; squatting on the toilet bowl, watching the morning light at it bends against the worrisome wall.
fresh from the oven. photos were taken right after the procedure (hence the slight swelling and markings).
done by kiddy at black ink industry.the past few days off work had been utterly static. i had been at my best behaviour, all prim and proper, exerting myself into putting up my most formal and shall i say, prescribed, speaking tone. and if i had to describe the state of my being, i would say, in half a shake, that i am caught in a draught.
i feel so rashed and agitated.
i had spent the last five days calling countless travel agents and hotels applying for an intership and writing with a bated breath, a self-effacing resume. that i am not in favour of working in the tourism industry is of another matter when my colleague called in at 1120pm last night to inform me that she had lost my resume and all four of my internship applications. and to add insult to my (already mouldy) injury, the resume and internship applications were supposed to be handed in today.
i should've been dead pissed with my colleague, given the situation, one might assume. but i'm not.
she lost it, yes. but i can, however, take this unfortunate circumstance to my advantage.
bless the back up system, i had written up another resume and internship applications. only this time, it's my most excellent. talk about being in a mint condition!
in a profound sense, i have two halves to my being; that the complementary side of me gives itself freely without a preconceived notion (and therefore incalculably devalued by my mother) is of that another matter when it consciously, to all intents and purposes, executes my considerations not without conviction.
it gives me this excessive erratic unfamilliar feeling that's all too familiar and i actually really like that. it hits me brusquely, but warmly, that i will myself to content this gratifying exploit.
consequently, my hope against hope, was yet again materialized, with the help of kiddy's (of black ink industry) capable hands. in between those seemingly apprehensive frame of mind, where i deny myself the indispensable need of a good night sleep, i feel the intense need of feeling something tangible. to some extend, something more than just a feeling. something.. liberating. that would somehow facilitate the emancipation of a particular yearning; a pair of surface piercing near my collar bones. that i didn't have it implanted on my skin, albeit elusive, did me justice; for now, that is.
surface piercings are body piercings that are sewn into the body through areas which are not particularly concave or convex, where the piercing channel crosswise a surface flap of skin, instead of running through a piece of body tissue from one side to another. a surface piercing enters the skin, carry along the dermal layers for a short distance and exit through the same area of skin. unlike conventional piercings, ie. nostril piercing, that enters through the outer skin of the nose, passes right through, and exits through the skin on the inside of the nose.
in that sterile black room, the only thing that matters was my faith in kiddy. but perhaps, his faith too, that i will not jerk the second the characterless needle pierce through my skin. in my feeble mind, i came up with an unconvincing hypothesis that if i had more flesh in the environs of my collar bone, the risk of rejection would decrease by at least, thirtyfive percent. and so, prior to having it pierced, i wolfed down more food than i usually do. alas, gaining weight was never an easy task for me; i have the metabolisme of a man twice my size.
the fact that the teflons bond so close to the surface of my skin worries me, i wanted to keep them for a year, at the very least (a well done surface can last anywhere between three months and several years). if i had a way to prevent the end result; the migration and/or the rejection of my body to the teflons, i would do so with little to no doubts at all.
generally, it is easier for the body to heal a fistula, otherwise known as a skin tunnel (conventional piercings). the body reacts to surface piercings like it would to a splinter; pushing it to the surface of the skin, causing it to 'grow out'. therefore, proper jewelry placement and selection by an experienced body piercer is crucial to help alleviate this problem.
had my body has proper and absolute control of itself, it would've knocked a sufficient amount of sense in me that it doesn't want foreign objects inside itself. and that, my grotesque darlings, includes teflons. but since it doesn't, my body (eventually) gave way to the placement of the surface piercing itself, blood flow, irritation, abuse and my general health.
but i may have agitated the surface piercings a little too much for my own good, that i toss and turn in my sleep and lift objects at work do little to rally round the healing process. i probably shouldn't have gotten it done, but i'm glad that i did. in fact, i am at my most fantastic with my guerillas.
yes, you read right. guerillas. meet guerillas, my first clavicle surface piercings, pierced by kiddy at black ink industry (located at tanjung aru beach, kota kinabalu, sabah, malaysia).
and don't dub me foolish just yet, isn't it our privilege and our adventure to discover our own special light? me thinks yes. i (may) have found mine in body modifications.i don't hate and i am not scared of goodbyes. will write, rant and photograph again. soon.
i promise.
and working part time at parkson, 1 borneo.novelista barista, a lovely blogger from the united states has featured my 2010 resolutions at her blog, read it here. she's an amazing blogger and i'm not just saying this. i'm going to leave the judging to you because i'm in a rush. stop by her blog and you'll soon get what i mean. until we meet again.
a different kind of beach.
bricks? at the beach?
it looks like a body bag.
a styrofoam among the stones.
right..
a floating seafood restaurant with a view like this?edward cullen: my family, we're different from others of our kind. we only drink animal blood, but it's your scent. it's like a drug to me. it's like you're my own personal brand of heroin.
isabella swan: why did you hate me so much when we met?
edward cullen: i did, only because of wanting you so badly. i still don't know if i can control myself.
isabella swan: i know you can.
you know, sometimes. just sometimes, see. i'd very much like to be able to look at my own reflection in the tinted polished glass of corporate buildings that shuns away the traces of vitamin d that was meant to touch our bare skin while i plod my boots down the wet pavement, heading towards the drugstore just to see how mrs robinson and her pet glow worms are doing.
i'd like that.
and when i get to see myself, just standing still, with the business people and housewives and school children alike moving to and from their destinations as my backdrop, i could almost see the child in me. as apparitions, dancing in her moss green raincoat in the drizzle, exchanging whispers with the summer air. squatting, covering the wounded black millipede with her palms, as if trying to protect a newborn son from the bickering eyes of an older jealous sister, from the angry footsteps of pedestrians with last week's hangover.
i'd very much like that, see. it's all i ever wanted.
to be innocent again.
as eerie as it may seem, the locals of lahad datu believe that this particular tree brings luck to their relationships.
that by tying a knot using plastic straws, they are bound eternally to their significant other.
as to how, when and who started this rite, nobody knows.
i wonder, if the condition of the knotted straw would somehow affect the relationship in question.
either way, judging by the many plastic knots, one could conclude that it is a rite that nobody questions.all upon a summer's day
on a bed of wild flowers i somberly lay
through my glasses i can clearly see
dragonflies mate in a cup of tea
as balloons pop across the ancient sky
and diamond cuts through moldy rye
but i am as monotonous as aged dust
not unlike burnt clay pots and sweet raisins
grin and tug it!
the winning team.
the cheerleaders, i assume?
i don't remember when was the last time i played tug of war. do you?
tug and squat?
innocent and determined.
they were singing a local song.
adorable, isn't he?my older sister, kate, got a fish for her birthday earlier today. so, in addition to the thirty five rabbits, forty six hamsters and most recently fifty two cats and kittens we had/have, we warmly welcome..
sanjay kumar!
puu jih shih temple, sandakan.
buddha temple, lahad datu.
guanyin temple, tawau.
puu jih shih temple, sandakan.
guanyin temple, lahad datu.100 random facts about myself. oh, yes.
seriously, if you don’t feel like reading, skip to the 100th, because this, is a tag.
1. i don’t like combing my hair.
2. i’ve maintained the same haircut since i was three years old.
3. i am a monotonous landscape.
4. i do not play modern musical instruments.
5. but i was a traditional musician playing gong, kulintangan and kompang.
6. i love tradition.
7. especially cultural dances.
8. although i don’t always confirm to old wives tales.
9. i speak five languages.
10. i regret quitting theater.
11. i have had six odd jobs in my lifetime.
12. i started working at the tender age of ten.
13. i like eggplant, a lot.
14. i had my tonsils removed by a laser surgery.
15. my corneas are uneven.
16. i’ve a soft spot for lost causes.
17. i was once diagnosed ad/hd.
18. i used to cut myself.
19. now i resolve to sleeping for hours.
20. i even sleep at odd hours.
21. i don’t drink/consume (food cooked with) alcohol.
22. not even caffeine.
23. but i was a barista at the coffee bean and tea leaf for almost two years.
24. i’ve always wanted to be a veterinar until i found out i had to cut open animals.
25. i dropped biology because i can’t bring myself to dissect living things.
26. my face is made of broken capillaries and i refuse to conceal it.
27. i hate talking on the phone.
28. and i don’t usually give out my digits unless it’s official business.
29. i don’t sing, not even in the shower.
30. i tend to overwork sometimes but when i procrastinate, i really take my time.
31. i do my own laundry, once a week.
32. i’m not a good cook, god knows what i put into the wok.
33. i’m a fatherless daughter, i no longer bear his name.
34. a prodigal to my mother, i can’t thank her enough for saving me.
35. blood type O +ve.
36. i am forbidden to attend funerals, not that i want to.
37. i sleep during most of my morning lectures.
38. my handwriting is awful.
39. and my body temperature fluctuates every few hours.
40. despite his dysfunctional ways, i love holden caulfield (a fictional character in the novel the catcher in the rye by j. d. salinger).
41. i don’t like papayas.
42. and pickles.
43. junkfood too.
44. my skin in sensitive to fragrant soaps.
45. hydrophobic since 1997.
46. i don’t swim in man-made pools.
47. actually, i don’t swim at all.
48. and i’m scared of ants.
49. unlike most people my age, i do not like hanging out at the mall or sitting at a café for hours on end without purpose.
50. i’d rather stay at home and read.
51. i’ve a dry sense of humor, spastic jokes aren’t for me.
52. i drink out of bottles, rarely out of glasses.
53. i don’t put my oar in politics.
54. given the opportunity, i believe that women can be men’s equal.
55. i don’t drive.
56. i really like fried onion, garlic and shallot.
57. i am a licensed ham.
58. i like surprises.
59. not routines.
60. impulsive.
61. i don’t like fancy hotels and restaurants.
62. i backpack and i make it a point to bring my own toiletries.
63. it’s rude, i know. but i stare at people. it’s a habit, i mean no harm, really.
64. i find wearing long pants is extremely uncomfortable.
65. i’m vertically challenged, i stand at mere five feet.
66. even so, i eat like a horse.
67. i really like brushing my teeth.
68. i have an invincible friend, i call it (sometimes it becomes a him), corey.
69. and an un-identical twin, ridzuan.
70. i have two bookstore membership cards because books are unbelievably expensive here.
71. i sleep with my eyes half open.
72. i’m too frank for my own good.
73. i am not in favor of polygamy.
74. and family politics.
75. i can’t see straight lines.
76. i’m relatively quiet.
77. though it’s most probably because i stutter.
78. diapers? nope, never wore ‘em before.
79. i named my cheeks piercing jonessy.
80. i don’t believe in marriage but if i were to have one, i’d have a no-nonsense wedding.
81. i shoplift just for kicks back in high school.
82. i saw a psychiatrist twice a week for two years when i was sixteen.
83. i take pleasure in playing strategy and mind games.
84. i’ve incisors, so be careful.
85. i have a giant panda drinking bottle that i take everywhere.
86. i do my best to minimize plastic consumption, i dump the things i bought into my bag.
87. during my toddler years, i eat bugs.
88. i like running long distance.
89. i’m not ashamed of my cellulites.
90. i bump into things every now and then.
91. i bruise easily.
92. aliens, big foot, crops circle, karma and reincarnation are some of the things i believe in.
93. homophobia is a social disease, i’m pro-gay.
94. i don’t like deodorants.
95. i like the smell of wet wood but not lavender.
96. i would like to retire, one day, in either devon (england) or ukraine.
97. i don’t buy designer items.
98. one of my many dreams is to steer a submarine.
99. thongs and g-strings scare me.
100. my jaw drops at such inappropriate times.
and.. i’m done! i am tagging everyone, let me know when you’re done with your list so we can all compare our facts. take care and have fun while you’re at it!
so, tell me. what's yours?growing up among older boys (in lieu of my father's departure, it was my brother and his friends who looked after me) who have the tendency to laugh at other people's expense has taught me that while that is discourteous, a smile costs nothing but a few painless facial muscle movements and that it's a sign of gratitude and hospitality.
now, correct me if i'm wrong. forgive the comparison; but a smile is as contagious as the notorious H1N1 virus, no? when someone smiles at you, it is only natural that you smile back, albeit to an unfamiliar soul. on the word of professor what's-his-name, smiling comes naturally; that nobody has to be taught to smile. and much to my surprise, researchers have discovered eighteen different human smiles (notwithstanding that i've only one to offer), among others are expressions of delight, contentment, amusement, arrogance, etc.
apparently, smiling has become such an integral part of a person's life that a smile study was conducted to determine how we can smile better and to help us see the funnier side of all things monotonous. (human) lab rats were asked to create some sort of a 'smile', by holding a pencil horizontally in between their teeth. those same lab rats were then asked to watch cartoons. in two shakes of a lamb's tail, they rated the cartoons as funnier than the lab rats who had watched the same cartoons but did not hold a pencil in between their teeth. gratified, the researchers concluded that smiling can, in fact, affect our mood.
"there are crowsfeet wrinkles that form around the eyes when a person smiles sincerely. the contrary applies to a phony smile." hints dr. marian bartlett, a computer scientist who uses 'salk', a computer software, to find out whether a person's expression is genuine or otherwise.
it bothers me though, that in the more recent years, i noticed that people stopped smilling to each other. what happened to that hospitable sunny smile that we habitually flaunt in the presence of a flashing camera? did we really need a gizmo to prompt us to smile? me thinks not.
perhaps, in keeping with modernization, we subconsciously turn ourselves into a flock of conceited creatures. a theory i developed during a recent excursion, where i offered a smile to a gorgeous lady. i mean, i can tolerate the brush off, but a dead-on eyeball? what gives? but then again, i probably have an overwhelming smile of a mad woman. hehh. who knows?
and to regard "sorry" as the hardest word is, without a doubt, immature.
it never was. not when you don't mean it.
religious bodies house equally diverse people with equally diverse ambitions and tastes, no?
ocher amongst leaves reminds me only of, flaky paint.preoccupied with final year projects, final exams and the things in between. will start writing again as soon as i'm done with everything. i mean, you didn't actually think i'd stop, did you?
p/s; if you have linked me at your page/blog, please relink me to http://xanabioticx.co.nr/
thanks and take care.
until i am able to speak again, on an entirely platonic level.
1. what time did you get up this morning?
730 am sharp.
2. how do you like your steak?
i'm vegan, i don't eat meat.
3. what was the last film you saw at the cinema?
orphan.
4. what is your favorite tv show?
family guy, gilmore girls, how i met your mother, simpsons, chicago hope, grey's anatomy, boston public, scrubs, house, crime scene investigation, national geographic, how things work.
5. if you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?
ukraine.
6. what did you have for breakfast?
traces of darlie lime toothpaste and last nights saliva, no proper breakfasts for me.
7. what is your favorite cuisine?
definitely not junk food.
8. what foods do you dislike?
foods that are not edible.
9. favorite place to eat?
home.
10. favorite dressing?
ah.
11. what kind of vehicle do you drive?
i don't drive, i cycle.
12. what are your favorite clothes?
shorts and tshirts.
13.where would you visit if you had the chance?
ukraine and russia.
14. cup 1/2 empty or 1/2 full?
1/2 empty.
15. where would you want to retire?
either ukraine or russia.
16. favorite time of day?
dawn.
17. where were you born?
malaysia.
18. what is your favorite sport to watch?
i don't watch sports.
19. who do you think will not tag you back?
i've absolutely no idea.
20. person you expect to tag you back first?
read previous answer.
21. who are you most curious about their responses to this?
none.
22. bird watcher?
not much of a bird watcher, i don't have the patience, but occasionally, yes.
23. are you a morning person or a night person?
neither.
24. do you have any pets?
just a lot of cats and kittens.
25. any new and exciting news you'd like to share?
i've got a tripod. finally.
26. what did you want to be when you were little?
a veterinar.
27. what is your best childhood memory?
eating bugs and insects with my invincible friend, corey.
28. are you a cat or dog person?
both.
29. are you married?
i don't believe in marriages.
30. always wear your seat belt?
definitely.
31. been in a car accident?
twice.
32. any pet peeves?
public toilets.
33. favorite pizza toppings?
pineapples.
34. favorite flower?
sunflower.
35. favorite ice cream?
none.
36. favorite fast food restaurant?
see above.
37. how many times did you fail your driver's test?
never.
38. from whom did you get your last email?
my elder brother, kirana.
39. which store would you choose to max out your credit card?
times bookstore.
40. do anything spontaneous lately?
pierced my ears.
41. like your job?
i don't even have a job.
42. broccoli?
he's my fiance.
43. what was your favorite vacation?
i have yet to conclude my favorite vacation.
44. last person you went out to dinner with?
my childhood bestfriend, rean.
45. what are you listening to right now?
burn the evidence, billy talent.
46. what is your favorite color?
hurm.
47. how many tattoos do you have?
only my imaginary backpiece.
48. how many are you tagging for this quiz?
three. joe, eve, and sadie.
49. what time did you finish this quiz?
1125 am.
50. coffee drinker?
i don't take caffeine, no.
a bucket full of thanks, zat, for tagging me.
i brought my infinite cycle of antagonism and retribution into a halt and grace their presence by listening closely, for consolation, to the sermons echoing through the jungle.the hurt inside was supposed to subside. slowly and consistently. but instead, i find myself, despite the distance and differences, caving in. entirely. and without self-pity, to the politician who lies, with every word he speaks.
i wouldn't have lasted this long if it weren't for my previous unwitting partakes in the dominion of depressives. and after several months of blocking out these abominable sentiments, i am, at long last, ready to renounce myself in rehab. but having said that, i have absolutely no intention to tilt back, eat a humble pie and capitulate this psychosomatic exertion altogether. in fact, i am all geared up for the race. and while there is no telling of how many miles i would have to run, it is clear in my irrational mind that if i were to productively discharge this melancholy, it is my choice for the taking to either hem myself into this rusty trajectory or to merely set the temperature higher. because i know that perseverance has an advantage over talent, regardless of its fondness to sort everything in a prolonged manner.
but i'm not in a hurry. and i'm not at all enthralled, for the reason that it's probably nothing more than an unresolved inner conflict.
i have lost my midas touch.
what turns to gold, now turns to a visible collection of finely powdered earth in the air.
as for now, i thought i'd just be square and let the credulous continue to hover above the surface of my geometric constructive judgment and give my blessings to the vulgar to nurse me in every way possible. i might need them in rehab.
and by rehab i mean hitchhiking across three districts in two weeks. i anticipate the occurrence, or at least, the coming of a slight recovery.
see you in a fortnight.
and to think that the pillar of my strength is a self-centred man.
i shall remain as an austere embellishment in your dreams. as a placid foreigner, whose existence you cannot dismiss.
he was, like a fever that would not, or rather, refuses, to break. regardless of the incessant attempts to decrease the temperature. he seemed to be immune to the cold towel stuck onto the little girl's forehead. even more so to the large doses of codeine force-fed to her delicate throat. it's almost like he was trying to prove that anything her mother could do, he could do better.
he brought into the home, an epidemic of sadness, like a progressive disease which the household's immune response ultimately fail to control. i carry with me his guilt and without fail, i pray that my optimism would somehow salvage what's left of this home.
the little girl's long fine threads reminded me of the first day i met him, at the end of the forest, about seventy three years ago. he was, anything but what he is right now. he was in love with a woman, who was made of everything nice and possessed an arsenal of knowledge about war and sword fighting. his heart, i remember, is made of, no, was, was made of delicate things. he was a sensible, good looking man, who took me in into his humble shelter. all because yours truly was young and orphaned. he must've seen a part of himself in me because his parents too, were murdered by an army of barbaric two afternoons before.
it never occurred to me that this little girl was the daughter of the woman he used to love, whose love was nothing but a murky world of fraud and secret deals.
he meant to oxidize her through the suffering of her daughter. their daughter.
overwrought, sad and serious -- hers were a contrary to his dark, empty and slightly frightening expression.
we were like four sweating dead bodies, put too close together, in the sepulchral gloom of a burnt down church. nervous and nothing short of confusion.
i, caught in this cross fire. her, disheartened and dishevelled. him, barbed and wired.
you and me, we're both robots, made of melted crayolas, from a noble man's flared up childhood. sitting upon eggs to hatch, motored to hurl out the writhing brood. you left and left me alone. kicking dried leaves, drinking from the river banks on my own.
i am in a severe battle with my indecisiveness. a battle so severe, you'd think i have machinists on hyperdrive arguing about which rotting pancreas to serve for tonight's dinner in the hollow of my brain. i am at my best, as a whole person, running through mountainous terrain as an outline, stark naked, echoing my irresolute replies. i cannot make up my mind without arguing with myself, i am just unable to decide.
i am (an awful lot like) those hanging, pendulous blossoms you see when you wake up in the early mornings.
you see me, you don't see me. you see me, you don't see me.
blame the curtains. or blame the wind. because i am still oscillating freely, paying no mind to past, present and future occurrences and of course, to your french chiffon curtains. i don't have the killing power to wet my hands in what you consider as a win-win situation. all these questions and requests and decision makings shot at me point-blank. giving me absolutely no time to scream for help or beg or offer them another form of sacrifice. let alone put on a bullet proof jacket or transform myself to teller of a tale, skilled in evading questions, authorities and bullets.
"kill a poet, kill a poet!" i would suggest. "i have kids to feed!"
my indecisiveness may well be a mean to come through a potentially harmful or unpleasant experience, without suffering serious consequences. i don't know. perhaps, i am simply enjoying the privilege to make void of responsibilities.
"i can't do this. i'm indecisive." out came my excuse.
but as much as you'd like to receive a fast and honest yes (or no, one at a time) than my usual drawn-out "maybe.." or "i'm not sure..", i am damned to sigh at the multitude of maybes in life's little boxes of surprises.
oh c'mon, adam and eve. give me a break. lets share a ticket in a lottery or prize drawing. (didn't) we already know that if i had chose not to decide, i'd still have made a choice.
first appeared in the united states during the opening decade of the twentieth century, amateur radio, often called ham radio, can be either a hobby or a voluntary service, or better, both. participants who have been officially permitted by the by governmental authorities (typically the ministry or office of telecommunications of a national government) or licensees, can communicate via various types of radio communications equipment with other radio amateurs for public service, recreation and self-training. amateur radio communications are not limited to only within the licensee's country, but it is widely available throughout the world. and should the need arises, participants are able to support the community with emergency and disaster communications whilst increasing their knowledge in the field of electronics and of radio related theories.
i recently sat for the examination and despite spending two years in the science stream back in high school, i had quite a hard time answering some of the questions. it's been four years since i last read any physics notes and formulas. but i was armed with past years rae notes and much to my surprise, i passed the radio amateur examination! i will get my license soon. but before that, i need to figure out what my future call-sign would be. i'm thinking of 9w6jxa.
