I was in Alor Setar as part of Honda’s HDF team; it was quite superb, complete with that old-school, rustic vibe. As cliched as it might sound, Kedah’s padi fields are magically idyllic, and it’s a pity that I didn’t take many photos of them. Mayhaps in the next bout.
It’s another one of those mashes between today and tomorrow. I’d love to know the name of AS’s version of the Space Needle.
It doesn’t matter who you vote for; as long as you do. Having the right to elect your public officials, no matter what post they’re vying for, is a privilege.
With that said, it’s a shame that everything’s in the shits right now. I don’t quite understand how you can be an Independent with Barisan leanings. It’s essentially a political engagement — a quickie that somehow squirms its way into something more. Then again, I suppose a silver lining to this would be the fact that they were weeded out in the end.
The continuous mud-slinging from both sides isn’t doing any good for the people; yet I despise the way in which the newly formed Majority was minted. And I’m quite sure that some Perakians are incredibly uncomfortable with the chain on events. This is hardly a ‘Party For the People’. Nobody wanted them there in the first place.
The ‘People’ in question have been cheated. Are they going to be given the chance to opt for a fair fight?
It’s hard to be impartial. And it’s hard to want to give a chance to a motley crew of blank-shooting wankers.
There’re times when I feel that the things I touch turn to rust. It’s as if I’m administering some kind of a pox, chipping away a flake at a time. Then there’re times when I feel that I’m the pox itself. As strange as it sounds, I let self-loathing take the better of me and guide me on my way. At times, it feels as though I’ve willingly offered a space for some kind of demented low vibe to take the better of me.
I haven’t done any favours to people by being the way that I am; nor have I ever claimed that I was trying to make things better for people. I can only be my own caretaker; and I’m failing miserably at that task. I don’t really see myself as being capable of looking after someone else’s interests, when my own interests are being so excellently denied. Once in a while, there’d come a blaze of confidence that’d sling its way to me — some form of blinding possitivism that would somehow reaffirm my position and standing in life. I’ve always believed that I’m the star of my own show. Which gives me the right to be as much of a diva as I want, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else but me.
I’m not looking to hurt people. But I can’t deny that I have. Being alone is a horrible solution to any problem, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that it can’t turn into a good one. If being cruel to be kind is an extreme form of the means justifying the end, then it can’t all be that bad. It’s selfless, no?
Equations can be changed and removed and etched and torn asunder and made anew.
I guess I’m just waiting for something to come along and pierce me at the side (figuratively).
Things are slow again.
I lead a blessed life.
I’ve been predicting the eventual drainage of whatever luck I have, but so far, the chips have been falling in my favour; everything that’s resembled an obstacle has conveniently morphed itself into something pleasant. Or it’s been magically wished away.
Therefore, I shall now do the familiar:
My luck’s going to run out on me before I know it.
There. I’ve signaled the death-knell once again.
Happenstance can’t be dancing with me forever.
Supersonic actuators are slowly building a crescendo in my head.
I was happier then, when my mind was at ease and my balls were firmly connected to my pelvis.
Now, every day seems surreal. Driving to work has become an adventure in itself. The people I know and the people I meet remind me of cardboard cutouts that sprang to life from some strange quarry in the back of my mind.
Then it repeats itself. An incredibly sickening, overplayed mantra that rings true for every one of us: ‘there’s got to be more than this’.
Some people can be incredibly satisfied with what they have. Some people are more than happy to settle for less. Some people know what they want. Some people know what they don’t want.
I don’t want to go thru each day like it doesn’t exist. But I think I’ve come to a point where it doesn’t really make a difference anymore.
I’m so tired.
For some time or other for these last two weeks, I’ve been wishing for something to spontaneously combust during my day.
I’ve been starting to feel the pull of monotony taking over. What was once drudgery has now evolved into a different kind of beast; a beast where aloofness is the norm, and where the chances of becoming wayward are as slim as a eunuch being tadpole-armed.
I don’t expect excitement to be procured over the course of the immediate future. It’d just be brilliant if I could pull myself out of the hole that I’ve dug. The bright side of all this is that the aforementioned hole is starting to become more shallow by a will of its own.
There’s got to be more than this.
I don’t think I’m as obsessed with success as I should be. Most people around me are driven to succeed; it might be some desire to gain a remote semblance of ‘stability’. It also might be because it’s regarded as the right thing to do — after all, there’s nothing better than making something out of yourself.
I’ve never felt the urgency to go places. I’ve been perfectly content being aimlessly aimless, and I’ve been happy with how things have been. I’m not saying that I want to stay showered in static all my life — it’s just that I crave and hate anonymity all at once.
Have you ever felt lost about who you are and what makes you tick? A while back (but not too long ago), I always walked around with this inclination that I was set for bigger things. I don’t really know what I think these days.
I’m not sure if I’ve built a cage around myself and whether or not I’m just a jaded little jigga who can’t figure heads or tails between what he wants and what he really wants.
Nobody knows where they’re going; I’m just not really sure I can be bothered to get directions anymore.