Down The Rabbit Hole

While in One Utama today returning the items my company borrowed for the photoshoot, something amusing caught my eye. I had just parked my car, and so had another car a few slots away. Four young guys, probably old enough to be in some college or other, got out of the car, chatting pretty loudly, in an annoying hey-look-at-me-i’m-so-cool (*ahem* attention whore) way. Since their voices beckoned me so, I obliged. They were all around my height, maybe a little taller, rather skinny and well groomed. Their hair was spiked up in the manner of Japanese rock stars, albeit undyed, and the clothes they were wearing was minimalist, yet stylish. All except one of them, which particularly caught my eye.

This one guy (or girl, I wasn’t too sure because I really only saw s/he from the back), was the most stylish of the lot. His/her hair was spiked up even more nicely than the rest of his/her posse. From what little I could glimpse of his/her side profile, s/he had nose piercings, and, his/her face was pale, and effeminate-looking. In fact, I will just further refer to this androgynous person as “it”. In that one glance, “it” looked like “it” could really be a Japanese rock star on holiday in Malaysia. However, that wasn’t quite what caught my eye. What caught my eye was the clothes “it” was wearing. “It” was dressed completely in black, from head to toe. And “it” was wearing a black coat. Like the kind you see on sale in MNG for winter wear. Complete WITH FUR TRIMMINGS.

So it rained a little on my way to One Utama. So maybe the weather today was a little cold in the evening. But honey, it still ain’t cold enough to be wearing clothes like that in perpetually sweaty-hot Malaysia. So, Mr/Miss I’m-Too-Cool-For-Either-You-Or-This-Weather, by trying to look cool and impress people, you are really just showing everyone what a sad dumbass you are. Seriously, I love fashion just as much as you do, and I would more than anything love to own a coat like that, but even more seriously, clothes like that just aren’t practical here. Live with it, and I don’t mean in the manner that I saw today. Otherwise just haul your jackass over to Japan where you will fit in with every other stylish looking person on the street.

As anyone who has ever played a tabletop Dungeons & Dragons game can attest to, very hillarious scenarios often can and will happen in the game, especially when you least expect them to. Ask someone who has ever played a campaign and they will definitely regale you with fond memories of the amusing things that have happened in a particular game. This one that I will relate now revolves around a paladin and a swashbuckler (a prestige class for the fighter, think of it as a pirate).

It happened while on a quest, when the party came across some giants in the middle of the plains. Unable to avoid a confrontation, all the party members rolled initiative (for the uninitiated, combat in D&D is turn based, and you roll the dice to determine who gets to do what, when) and prepared to take down the group of giants. The party then spread themselves out, trying to make do with the best strategy possible. Meanwhile, one of the giants had lumbered up to the swashbuckler, and since he was faced with no other option, he tried to take it down. However, it was apparent after one round of fighting that the swashbuckler was simply no match for the giant. So he turned to the nearby paladin in his shining armour and mount and asked for his help in taking it down.

Now the person playing the paladin had built his character in such a way that he was exceedingly effective when charging his foes with a lance on his trusted steed, but rather mediocre in normal hand-to-hand combat. So in order to fight effectively, he has to take several rounds in combat to charge his attacks up to make the most out of it. So the paladin oblidged to the swashbuckler’s request, casted a spell on himself and told him to wait while he got prepared.

The round after that, the swashbuckler scored a critical hit on the giant, which was indeed a bad move because the attack only served to annoy the giant. The giant then scanned for his source of irritation, decided it was the swashbuckler’s sword that was at fault, and decided to sunder it. Smash! The sword broke into a million pieces.

“Uh oh,” the swashbuckler said. Turning to the paladin, he cried, “Help! My sword’s broken! I can’t attack anymore!”

The paladin casted another spell on himself, and answered “Wait, I will be done in a while.” So the swashbuckler, having faith in the paladin, decided to stay put and wait for him to come to his rescue.

On the next round, the giant was still annoyed. This time he chose to sunder the poor swashbuckler’s armor. Smash! His armor broke, and the swashbuckler was left naked.

“HELP!!” he yelped to the paladin. “I have no more armor! Should I make a run for it??”

The paladin continued to cast spells on himself, and only replied, “Wait, I will be done soon. If you run away now the giant can attack you because you’re prone, and since you have no armor he will surely hit you and you will die.” So the swashbuckler stayed put in front of the giant.

The round after that, the giant mercilessly continued to smash the swashbuckler, dealing him a rather painful blow.

“HELPPP!!!” he cried at the paladin. “I’m gonna die soon!!”

The paladin casted yet another spell, took a five foot movement back, preparing to charge, and replied, “Wait, I’m coming, stay put and don’t move.” So the poor swashbuckler, unable to run away at this point, stayed put in front of the murderous giant.

Next round, the giant smashed the swashbuckler so hard he fell down dead straightaway.

Immediately after that, the paladin charged. The giant fell in one swoop blow of his powerful lance, buffered up by the spells he had casted on himself earlier.

“WTF!!!” screamed the now very dead swashbuckler. “DUDE!!!! WHY DIDN’T YOU COME SAVE ME EARLIER??!!! I COULD HAVE SURVIVED!!!!!”

“Well,” replied the paladin, “I had to charge up first, otherwise I wouldn’t have been so effective.”

“BUT….BUT….I COULD HAVE SURVIVED!!! I WOULDN’T BE DEAD!!”

“But I need to charge up first what.”

“ARRRRGHHHHHH!!!”

To this day, I still laugh my head off whenever I think about it.

Back in Year 3, Semester 5 of college, my class had a project where we each had to come up with a map. The map could be of anything we wanted, so long as it was a map. One of the helpful hints our lecturers gave to help us come up with ideas was to go out and take photos of your surroundings and see where that leads. So, armed with my faithful camera, I went around taking photos of my housing estate and its surroundings. After my photos were developed, I planned out my initial idea, which was to map out the memories of my childhood (I think). That plan somehow morphed into The Game Called Life. Except since there was already a game called Life, and since it was my map, my ever helpful lecturer suggested I make it My Game of Life instead.

So my map became a boardgame, consisting of a board, with little steps leading from ‘Start’ till my ‘Goal’ and cute little pictorials on the way which represented my aspirations in life, ‘Chance’ cards similiar to the ones you find in Monopoly, counters to represent the players, dice for the players to roll, and a box to keep it all in. It was a very simple game, mostly because it was half-assed work. However, it wasn’t until I presented my map that I noticed something that I apparently didn’t give much thought to – all my aspirations were material in nature. As represented by the little icons I drew on the map, my aspirations were: money, a car, more money, a house, and even more money. Even the ‘Chance’ cards revolved only around that particular topic.

From the somewhat puzzled expression on her face, I suppose maybe my lecturer was wondering if that was really all I cared about. And for awhile, I wondered about it too. Of course, after I thought it through, I realized that yes, I cared deeply about those things, but not because those material things were what I wanted. It was because those material things would give me what I want in life. I have always wanted total and complete independance in my life. Money would make me able to buy a car, which would give me the freedom of mobility, to a certain point. If I had more money then I could buy myself a place to live in, then I won’t be forced to put up with my parents anymore. Even more money and I can live the rest of my life doing whatever I want without being bothered about my finances. And since all the goals could only be reached if I had money, it became the force that drives me.

Funnily enough, when time moves us along the journey of life and when the events that take place in the square you land on shape who you are, your goals change. Little things get added along the way, or you find things that you thought you wanted, but never really did, or you shift the direction you’re going to completely. When I was younger I had dreams about who I wanted to be, and what I wanted to do. These dreams took a complete about-turn when I entered the Science stream where I realized, when, looking at the people around me, it was not what I wanted to do, nor was it where I wanted to be. So I chose to explore an alternate route, not for the sake of being different, but because I realized I was different. Though I don’t regret my decision, sometimes I find myself thinking – what if the dream I work so hard to reach is really only that – a dream? Where do I go to then? It would be especially bitter since it was something I chose by design, not something I stumbled along or was forced into, so I would have no one to blame but myself.

I suppose that if that were to happen, I would have to grit my teeth and move on. Time waits for no one, and unlike a boardgame you cannot choose to take your time to make a move. Every pause and grief and anguish would only be a waste of time. Every day time moves me forward by one step, and the seconds are ticking fast.

Best do something about it.

Every now and then, when I read through movie reviews, watch trailers, or hear about movies from my friends, a particular movie would catch my attention and convince me that it is so unbelieveably good that I can hardly wait to catch it at the cinema. And every now and then, the excitement that consumes me will make me overlook certain elements in a movie that I don’t want to watch simply because I don’t like watching movies like that. Take, for example, the first Resident Evil movie.When it came out I was so excited. OMG!! It’s Resident Evil!! A movie!! MUUSSTTT WATTCCHHHH!! So I went to catch it at the cinema with a bunch of likewise-enthusiastic friends, and the moment the movie began so did a gnawing feeling inside of me that I shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t because the movie was bad, but rather because I hate mindlessly gory scenes. That gnawing feeling was instantly validated the moment everything went wrong in the laboratory and people started dying horribly, the most gory scene being the part where that woman’s head got chopped off by the elevator. At that point I simply went: WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?? YARRGHGHGGHGHGHG!!

The Machinist was exactly like that. From the moment I read the movie synopsis it had me in its thrall, and I couldn’t rest until I had watched the movie. What I didn’t count on, and probably slipped my mind yet again, was how incredibly disturbing the movie was going to be. It was the same reason why I never watch horror movies, and the same reason why I don’t read that many books dealing with horror – not because they are horrific in themselves, but because my mind loves playing tricks on me afterwards, particularly when I turn off the lights to go to sleep and everything is dark and quiet.

Although not a horror movie, The Machinist was certainly filmed like one. I would say more but to give things away is to spoil the whole experience of watching it. What I can say, however, is that the movie is really good, despite making me want to shut my eyes, curl up into a ball and scream, “YOU’RE NOT REAL, DAMMIT, GET AWAY FROM MEEEEE!!!” and babble like a madman the entire way. Although the movie does inexplainably lack that special something that makes a movie special. Still, it is very much worth the watch, if nothing else to see Christian Bale’s walking skeleton, before he completely transformed himself few months later into the monstrous hulk that is Batman. To the people out there who think I am so skinny that when the wind blows I will topple over, in the movie Christian Bale was so thin that if he was any thinner he wouldn’t exist. He himself is freaky enough, even when you take him out of the context of the movie. My GOD.

“That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.”
– H.P. Lovecraft

Morbid as it may be, this is the most beautiful phrase I have heard (or rather read) lately. I used to read a lot when I was younger, but it was a habit that stopped somewhere in the middle of secondary school. I have never read anything from the more “popular” writers, such as Sidney Sheldon, John Grisham, Michael Crichton, Tom Clancy, Ann Rice or Danielle Steel, nor have I read the kind of books that people more intelligent and cultured than I am read such as Shakespeare, Virginia Woolf, Salman Rushdie, Ernest Hemingway, Isaac Asimov, Carl Sagan, Frederich Nietzche or Freud. So H.P. Lovecraft was new to me, even though I have heard his name mentioned innumberable times, especially about the Cthulhu mythos. So one day, bored at work, I decided to Google up H.P. Lovecraft, and ended up finding an entire library of his work online. I then proceeded to spend entire bored afternoons reading his stories, which though I found creepy wasn’t really that scary. Plus it didn’t help that he was so goddamn long-winded sometimes, and I nearly fell asleep reading the longer stories, especially The Dream Quest of Unknown Kadath. However, as is wont to happen to me whenever I read scary or creepy stories, especially THAT many one after another, after I washed myself yesterday night and turned off the light to go to sleep, my mind immediately conjured up images of the weird and monstrous things in his stories, which would have perhaps driven me mad had I not managed to fall asleep.

But I ended up dreaming about them anyway.

I know I’ve said that I’ve forgiven you, but the truth is that I lied. Not just to you but also to myself. It’s so hard to forgive you for all that you’ve done to me, and it’s so hard to let go of the hate even though I know it brings me no gain.

Because of you I’ve learnt how important it is to open your heart to someone, yet you made it bleed till there was no more blood to run.

Because of you I’ve learnt to care, yet you numbed me to my pain and nothing makes me feel anymore.

Because of you I’ve learnt to live, yet you left my soul so cold and empty I wonder if life will ever truly mean anything to me again.

Because of you I know that I am strong and I will survive, though I don’t know if it’s because I have strength or because you left me so bitter and cynical I don’t care anymore.

Because of you I know where I stand, yet the person staring back at me from the mirror is a stranger.

Because of you I have changed, and to you I am both grateful and hateful.

Stop using my face as your goddamn base already, you fucking bastards.

My hair is nearly shoulder length now. It reaches my shoulders nicely without sticking out the other way as hair tends to do when it becomes maybe an inch or two longer than that length. I would have actually been able to tie up the back, but the front was a little too short for me to pull along into the ponytail. This was before I got my hair trimmed a little last week because I thought it was out of shape. Still, I think it was quite an achievement, as I haven’t had my hair at this length for at least three years. Before this I have always kept my hair short, mostly because I thought I was better suited to shorter hair. Of course, being completely fuss-free to manage was also a big plus point.

All these years I have always found it amusing how some people have consistently fought with me over my choice of keeping my hair short (Right now it is longer only because I’m bored and want to do something different for awhile. Although by trying to be different from what I normally am, now I just look just like everyone else with long hair). “Long hair looks good on you!” they would insist. Since this happened on a regular basis, I would always shoot back, “Why?” The most common reason I got was “Because your hair is soooo niceeeee!! Mine is so horrible, not like yours”. Umm, hello, not to be rude, but just because you think your hair looks bad is no reason to impose your unfulfilled fantasy of having perfect hair on me?

Then, of course, is the other reason, which really puzzled me. “Because you look good with your hair tied up.” When I pointed out to them that there is no difference between me keeping my hair short and keeping it tied up all the time, they look completely stumped. That situation has never failed to make me laugh everytime I think about it. In fact, LOL.

Anyway. just for comparisons sake, here are two photos of me, one with long hair, and the other with short hair.

The picture at the top is from Adjay’s blog. It was taken at a steamboat some months ago.

This one is basically a repost of the wedding pictures. I don’t exactly have a lot of pictures of myself. In any case, big difference, huh?

I still prefer the short hair, though.

Stupid, stupid me. I have freelance work to do and I’m so exhausted so I should get it done earlier so I can actually get some sleep, but no, I just have to while my time away surfing and doing other activities instead of work. I could have gotten it done during the week long holiday too, but no, I just had to lie around and do absolutely nothing all day, partly because I deserved the break, and partly because I dread having to do the work. Then I end up frantically working on the project late into the night and morning after, then go to sleep at 6am and arrive at work at least half an hour late and completely exhausted. Times like this I really hate myself.

Weirdly enough, if my colleagues were to ever find out that I’m like that, surprise would be an understatement. I am frighteningly efficient at work. Need something done? Voila. I have a nagging feeling that it’s because I try to overcompensate for my inadequecies, perhaps to convince myself that I’m not such a horrible person after all. However, I feel it is no justification to the way I do things, but no matter how hard I try to change sometimes this just happens again, then I will simply get pissed and disappointed in myself and proceed to become depressed. I suppose I am just setting myself up for failure. Like I mentioned earlier, times like this I hate myself.

Five songs I currently really really like:

Kaiser Chiefs – Everyday I Love You Less And Less
Low Millions – Eleanor
White Stripes – Blue Orchid
Gorillaz – DARE
Shakira – Don’t Bother

I don’t know who to tag either. You? :p