Tuesday, August 26, 2003

I needed something to live for. I needed a reason to go on. I needed a purpose, and for my sins, He gave me one.

Monday, August 25, 2003

Despair has this special way of clinging to the heart, dragging it down further. Making every shadow behind the throne an assasin. It is the blade which twists slowly in the heart, killing hope where hope may lie. It amplifies every little thing wrong in life, turning an average loser into a complete failure. Despair is the killer of the rational, that which destroys those who think things through but still can't transcend all the misery and the pain. Despair is the swift conqueror of they who live in the solitude of the shadows in the gloom.

There is now despair - quiet, but growing. The sinking feeling I've been living with for the past one month is today compounded by a constricting sensation around the throat. There are these nice stretches in life when everything's bright and sunny. One day, dark clouds cover the sun and you get a little drizzle. And then the rain comes. The pouring rain. The heavy, torrential, pouring rain. The rain becomes a deluge, and pretty soon there'll be no more ground to stand on. And you're still left on that swiftly vanishing earth, alone in that empty world of your own.

Today, the weary drizzle turned into a thunderstorm most worrying. There might be a ray of sun somewhere. Or this time, it could be the Great Flood again, except that Noah hasn't finished drawing the schematics for the ark.

Despair. Is not a good place to be in.

Saturday, August 23, 2003

Vodka. Apocalypse Now.

The horror. The horror.

Thursday, August 21, 2003

Pain. Pain does strange things to a mind. Tie a ticklish man up and torture him with a little white feather. Strap a girl down on a cold steel table and slowly skin her with a shaving razor, layer by layer of skin. I believe that in time, the pain gets too much for the mind to bear, and the person in pain goes mad. Goes insane. Cuckoo.

Pain need not be physical. There's always the more subtle non-physical torture which leaves no visible marks save that dull look in the eyes. And occasionally some drool. People do go mad this way sometimes. Day after day of unforgivingly self-flagellating inner turmoil. If life were a song, these periods of mindnumbing chaos would be those parts where someone just bangs down on the piano keys haphazardly without any thought to rhythm or tune. Yes, that's how life would be. Or maybe very loud synthesizers crashing away senselessly amidst the painfully discordant sounds of a madman at the drums. Very jarring effect. No harmony. No meaning. Nothing.

Pain warps your mind after awhile. Like pus festering in a wound, it poisons and infects everything else. Gangrene takes effect soon enough. A gangrenous mind is a wonder to behold - a terrible wonder, but a wonder no less. The self, fragmented by the trauma, is torn down, reassembled, ripped apart, reconstructed, disintegrated, rebuilt - again and again and again. Remake - more pain - mentality warped further - shatter. Repeat. Each time the self is remade, something goes missing. Or something is recreated wrong. The only person capable of bringing this cycle to a halt - the person undergoing the agony - cannot always stop it effectively.

Unwatched, the cycle will begin again, long after the healing process is thought to have begun. And torment begins anew.

Thursday, August 14, 2003

The road. The road is a Zen-like place of contemplation. Only on the road can I achieve a higher state of spiritual existence, where reality becomes as lucid as it gets, and the mysteries of life become crystal clear. For on the road, there's only me... my car... and every-bloody-body else who thinks they have the right farking way over me.

Mind you, not everyone's a self-absorbed roadhog. People like the Simoniac know their place in the world. They know just where they fit into the Grand Scheme of the Road. The Simoniac, for your information, keeps to the pavements when he's not travelling at Warp 10. Now THAT is a most agreeable solution. A Prose-sanctioned solution, even.

But not everyone is as conscientious a model citizen of the byways, the highways, the alleyways and the pavementways as the Simoniac. I know quite a few who like nothing better than to cut in in front of me and travel at 20km/h. Hello? There should be a law which makes it illegal for people to travel below 60km/h when the road in front of them is totally devoid of everything. OR, what about the dilapidatedly decrepit uncles and aunties who find sinfully gleeful pleasure in riding / driving in the middle of the road, right in front of you, OH SO VERY VERY GOD SPARE US THIS TORMENT PLEASE SLOWLY? To add to the agonizing frustration, they don't bother to heed the frustrated high-lightings of yours truly. I sometimes have to resort to blaring my horn just to get those overaged numbskull rider drivers out of my way. And they don't always get out of the way ( major discontentment issue here ). Senile people should be banned - YES, FREAKIN' FARKING BANNED - from the roads if they don't know how to a) drive / ride faster or b) keep to the bloody slow lane if they plan to take their own tortoise sweet time.

/hates, people. /hates. And what about the dickwads who park their vehicles right smack in the middle of the road? Think that's impossible? In Penang, where the roads are narrower than a virgin ass, that's all too possible. Especially when some braindead lorry driver decides to offload his goods on a road just big enough to accommodate one car right in the middle of rush hour.

It. Really. Makes. You. Wish. That. Gun. Laws. Were. More. Relaxed. In. Bloody. Malaysia.

To be fair, mucho gratitude to my fellow road warriors who abide by the rules of the road by travelling at lightspeed while avoiding accidents with the deftness and grace of a natural ballerina on opening night. They might be Cinabengs. They might be Malay punks. They might be Indian babaloos. They might even drive on the pavements and scare the still warm shit out of unsuspecting pedestrians. But what they are NOT - is slow. And slowness, that I can't abide.

Wednesday, August 13, 2003

Good news, everyone! Malaysia's fourth television station is coming to town soon.

Channel 9 to start trial broadcast on Friday

As usual, those lucky folks down in the Klang Valley will get it first. Hopefully, the tests will be successful and the entire peninsula will receive transmission within a month. And you know why? Because they'll be screening 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'. That's right. Buffy.

This is an eXcellent opportunity for you people who never had the chance to watch Buffy ( or never bothered to when it's being screened on Astro ) to catch one of television's finest series. The naysayers might tell you that it's just about a teenage girl who goes around killing monsters every week - but they're usually the ones who just caught a few stray episodes or who've never even watched it before.

Give Buffy a chance! You might grow to like her!

Tuesday, August 12, 2003

You're right, Leeann. We can. I can.

Friday, August 01, 2003

Fever: Gone
Appendicitis: Negative ( confirmed )
Mind: Gone a-wandering
Stomach: Pretty much settled
When I fart: I shit
Excretion description: Water the colour of curry-flavoured Maggi Mee
Yesterday: Medical leave expired
Today: Took personal leave
Reason: Refusing to shit in my pants during work

DAMNIT I JUST SHAT IN MY PANTS AGAIN.