So ...
I got that grin from her again!
That evil "Ha!" grin that's always on her face.
Very mocking.
Sheer travesty.
I told Sarah I don't like that grin.
She slapped it right on to my face with these plain words:
"But, you have the exact same grin!"
I was too baffled to protest.
But, today ... it was a little different.
She stared at me for about 3 seconds ...
Smiled ... Widened her eyes.
I put down my books.
Smiled. Widened my eyes. And said
"Yes? ..."
And she smiled ... and said:
"Nothing, Foo."
Intimidating ...
You know the concept about woman:
There's always something when they say 'nothing'.
Dangerous ...

Then ... there was law.
I had a presentation ...
Again, I was the innocent victim
Subjected to long enquiries and questions
on how Lay Magistrates and Juries work.
I got a C.
At the end of the class he told me:
"That was a very good presentation. Keep it up."
"In fact, it was the best so far."
And ...
I got a C.
Injustice?
Told you I'm cursed.

Today, we filled in a form for Lit
The last question:
"What is your target/ aim for your coming semester exams?"
!
Left it blank.
Don't know what to expect.
Don't want to expect.

Sigh ...

[[ mood ]] working

1 comments

TAG game!

Instructions: Pick five occupations from the list below and complete the sentence. Then tag another three people to do it. And on and on it goes.

If I could be a scientist
If I could be a farmer
If I could be a musician
If I could be a doctor
If I could be a painter
If I could be a gardener
If I could be a missionary
If I could be a chef
If I could be an architect
If I could be a linguist
If I could be a psychologist
If I could be a librarian
If I could be an athlete
If I could be a lawyer
If I could be an innkeeper
If I could be a professor
If I could be a writer
If I could be a llama-rider
If I could be a bonnie pirate
If I could be a service member
If I could be a photographer
If I could be a philanthropist
If I could be a rap artist
If I could be a child actor
If I could be a secret agent
If I could be a comedian/comedienne
If I could be a priest
If I could be a radio announcer
If I could be a phlebotomist
If I could be Paris Hilton's stylist
If I could be a movie producer
If I could be the CEO of Microsoft
If I could be an astronaut
If I could be a world famous blogger
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world
If I could be married to any current famous political figure
If I could be a dog trainer

If I could be a writer ... I’d try to promote more literary interest among the younger generation. The language skills they acquire from school just isn’t sufficent nowadays. It’s heartrending to watch people speak and write terribly. Our modern society is plagued by an absence of people who appreciate literature. Not to mention the fact that the world is now flooded mostly with mediocre contemporary work ... sigh! Of course, I’d be an international bestseller and win the Booker Prize. Ha!

If I could be a movie producer ... I’d produce movies. Not comedies. Not action movies. Maybe an adaptation of a play or a classic or something along that line. It’d be interesting if I could produce a movie based on Ngugi’s A Grain of Wheat. It’d be a literary enhanced movie with serious explorations into the minds of characters but I doubt I’d get a wide range of audience.

If I could be a lawyer ... I’d kick Mr. Bala’s ass! Pay him back for all those questions and sneers!!! Ha! Just in case any I have created a false idea that I hate this guy, I don’t. He’s a very … I don’t want to flatter him here in my own blog!

If I could be a librarian ... I suggest you stop visiting the library. And if you can’t help it … then I suggest you pick the right counter.

If I could be a painter... I’d paint a painting that made Da Vinci feel sorry for ever painting Monalisa. What does that mean? I don’t know.


Frankly mate, the choice of profession listed is fairly limited … whatever happened to things like playwright, director, poet … things like that! I honestly didn’t know which one to pick after the first three choices!

... and TAG! [whoever that’s reading this] YOU'RE IT!

[[ music ]] AS Economics
[[ mood ]] moody

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TrapT's Academic Progress

I am condemned to die.

***

At the rate I'm going ...
I'd sacrifice a lamb if I pass Economics.

If I pray hard enough ...
I'd get more than a C for Law.
And, if I do ... I'll buy you lunch!

Literature ...
I don't even want to think about this.

***

Mates,
If I don't make it to the end of next week, I just want to let all of you know how thankful I am that you've been visiting the site.
Your support has been immensely important in assisting through the tough times.
Let's hope that it's strong enough to pull me through this one as well.

[[ mood ]] Cursed

6 comments

Time has its mysterious powers. Very often, its powers are just simply beyond our comprehension. There are moments in which we attempt to understand such powers. Yet, more often than not, we fail. Its effects leave such deeply rooted influence in our lives, lastingly entrench its power over us and steadily conquer our blank abyss of incomprehension.

Time changes everything. It changes everything on the surface and works its way to the interior. Nothing lasts. Nothing remains. It changes people. It changes things. It changes nature. Nothing is left unaffected and untouched by time.

Our state of helplessness to stop or rather control its dark, ulterior supremacy over us, has left with no choice but to cope with Time itself. Today is irrevocably related with yesterday and tomorrow would be irreversibly related to today. Time works in a single continuum. Its effects change everything slowly but surely.

You hear your friend complain about friends changing. You watch people slowly distort into someone you can barely reach out to. You feel the distant between people slowly establishing a regular expansion. Yet, there is only that much we can do to control such domineering effects of time.

There is little you and I can do to control certain issues in life. We complain incessantly about the effects of time yet we pray day and night to be blessed with more than merely 24 hours a day to assist us in completing our daily tasks. Man, I suppose would never cease the amount of contradictions in them.

Life is all about timing. It's all about being at the right place at the right time. Meeting the right people, doing the right things at the right time. What's done is done and what's gone is never to return. That's the sort of supremacy it has over us.

I suppose what I’m trying to say here is that, change due to Time shall remain to be a dominant part of our lives. Again, since there is so little for us to do to control that, I propose that we adapt to such changes. Time … as the saying goes, heal all wounds.

Cheerio mate.

[[ mood ]] tired

1 comments

There's no such thing as trying.
It's either you do it right.
Or you don't.

And it's never good enough to just try your best.
Ultimately, it amounts to nothing but sheer wasted effort.

[[ mood ]] drained

3 comments

And so it is said that I write with an obvious profound sense of morbid confinement. The name in which I write with itself serves to tell the tale of the constraints I am tormented with in life. Writing, as it appears to me, is becoming more and more a form of escape where I see myself slowly indulging into a world that’s set apart from reality. It offers me hope, relief and almost sanctuary. The blog sphere is where I feel completely safe from wounding lexis of the outside world and the uneasy peace of humanity. Any offensive or intruding comments can be ignored as if I had never read them or never heard of them, something which I think all of us have failed to do in the real world govern by the ‘law of the jungle and survival of the fittest’ rule.

For those of you who have followed closely the updates on the blog, you would have notice the varying emotions in which I try so hard to convey through merely written words with the best and most accurate punctuation I can muster from myself. Most of these attempts, to a certain extent, I believe, scarcely meets my own expectations but I have the least to be sorry about as I know for one, and again, I have mentioned before this that words have very often failed me despondently.

Yet, words remain to be the only and most effective tool in which I can liberally with the least form of restraint to express myself. The vocabulary in which I am equipped with very narrowly provides my readers the satisfaction of reading a piece with true literary value in terms of self expression. However, like most of us who has opted to express ourselves in the blogs, I too, am not confined to the conventional styles of essay writing. Here, there are more free flow of words in which every blogger has both the occasion and privilege to share the sort of freedom we so deprived of in the education system.

However, it is important to be mindful that I am not in total accord to the notion of most bloggers writing in scarcely understood English with illicit usage of spellings and intolerable punctuations. I understand that the breakaway from the conventional writing styles allow us to explore the ways in which our feelings and thoughts are best expressed is tempting a lot of us to use rather excruciating writing styles. I, myself am guilty of such appalling crime and finds no need to deny that. Nonetheless, forgive me if you must for the immodest comment, I give myself the credits of acknowledging the need for bloggers to write properly.

Of course, it would be difficult to say exactly, in precise details how ‘properly’ one should write in the blogsphere given the fact that, it is after all a journal and I know very well that I should be least judgmental of different writing preferences. My very basic requirement here is that people should spell their words properly. No more ‘enuf’ for enough and no more ‘gud’ for good. Honestly, as nauseatingly pompous as it may sound, and do forgive me for that, I find that such spellings are highly intolerable.

And, as Bernard Shaw has so distinctively written in his play Pygmalion, which I find very intriguing in scene one are these lines:

“Remember that you are a human being with a soul and the divine gift of articulate speech: that your native language is the language of Shakespeare and Milton and the Bible: and don’t sit there crooning like a bilious pigeon.”

Plays like Pygmalion by Shaw and Educating Rita by Willy Russell compliments a moral truth – the need for society to know the usage of proper English before attempting to break the its restricting conventional rules. Of course, again, I stress that, like many others, I too, am guilty of breaking such rules when I don’t know enough about the language but my overt affection towards the language has led me to believe in the urgent need to address that problem in which we are all entrapped with.

With this lengthy entry, I cannot be certain that most of you would finish reading it but I have sincere hopes that it might have evoked the same feelings I have towards this issue in you although I seriously doubt it. Anyhow, continue writing and thank you for visiting.


Cheerio mates.

[[ music ]] Daniel Bedingfield - Show Me The Real You
[[ book ]] A. S. Byatt - Possession
[[ mood ]] contemplative

5 comments

"When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you

If your heart is in your dreams
No request is to extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do

Fate is kind
She brings to those who love
As sweet fulfillment of their secret drowns
Like a boat out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through"


***

Very intriguing song, I have to say.

[[ music ]] Louis Armstrong - When You Wish Upon A Star
[[ mood ]] tired

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Thank you, Jacyn.
You're very, very dear friend.
We'll pull through ... somehow, someway (hopefully).

[[ mood ]] frustrated

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There are just some things that will hover over your life a moment longer than you’d like them to, weaving in and out of your preoccupied consciousness, gently strengthening your feeble state of vulnerability and you find yourself helplessly caught and subjected to this underlying strain of inexpressible sorrow, with little possibility to escape. Of course, you can always tell me that despair is only a state of mind or the feeling of discomfort and displeasure only takes time to cancel out itself but I believe that there are certain things that would just refuse to subside.

Of late, I don’t feel too good about things. Certainly, there are specific and exact grounds for that but I shall not burden you with the details. What I am trying to explore here is the fact that certain things that you’ve always thought to be less significant can have a rather immense impact on you. I suppose certain things come to you by surprise and you can only justly feel once it has hit you hard in the head, take you out when you least expect them to. I have yet to decide if this should prompt me to be more cautious or simply allow another one of those sudden strikes to experience the excitement. For now, I am trying rather desperately to get out of that inexpressible state of numbness and sorrow.

Then again, I have always allowed myself to believe that such experiences are always a part of the voyage of self discovery. After all, you don’t know how bad you can possibly be hit until you’ve been hit and let’s just hope you live to tell the tale. But, when you’re hit and trying so very hard to recover from the aftereffects, you wish you had avoided that strike. How contradictory mankind can be …

Certain emotions have their austerity on us and sometimes there is just so little you can do to control that. I have come to believe that it’s all part of life although I have to make it clear that I’ve lived but a mere 18 years and my general views on life itself are inadequate and derisory. My personal opinion is that, everything I go through now is a part of life and although I am not completely fond of these experiences, I like to think that I’ll come to a stage where I would say I would not have it another way.

Let’s just hope I’ll get over this state more quickly …


Cheerio mates.

[[ music ]] Julie Andrews - Then You May Take Me to the Fair
[[ mood ]] frustrated

3 comments

Energy …
I suppose for most of you who has the deadly misfortune of going on an outing with me, you would know by now that I am one person with the least of energy. I would never be the first one in the line for the next roller-coaster ride, never be the first to get off the bus to go into the strawberry farm, never the first to get out of the hotel room for the next item on the itinerary and never the one who suggest for us to go to the theme park or fun fair or water park or anything along that line. Instead, I’ll pray that it rains and all we can do is to stay in the hotel room with a book or a game of hearts and a hot cup of tea. I silently thanked the Lord for saving me from a fate worst than death when the roller-coaster broke down (or some similar fortune) and that I do not have to endure the few minutes of horror. I secretly pray that time shall not permit us to visit anything along the line of a zoo or a park with monkeys or anything you’d like to think of adventure.

I wonder all the time how some certain shopping malls never fail to make its appearance on the itinerary for trips. Mid Valley Megamall, Kuala Lumpur City Centre - among the few that has incessant and insistent appearances all over the itinerary. Why, is it that I have to muster all the energy to cope with such hectic schedules of visiting similar places and yet maintain a smile on my face? I do not know.

There will always be a protest when a visit to the art museum is suggested and it’ll always be too boring to visit a book fair. It is never interesting enough if we just sit down quietly for a cup of tea or if you like a little more excitement, you can ask for a Martini or a Margarita. It always seems that people would be thrown into a fit of grave tedium if we visit a historical site. Why can’t people visit places that need less energy for a change? Then, perhaps some part of my energy bar will rise.

Perhaps, I’m not a very interesting person. If I can have things my way, which unfortunately I usually don’t even though I probably play a part in the flawed planning, I’ll make everyone on the trip go to the national art gallery, the Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Center, the largest bookstore in town, go for a talk on Literature or maybe watch a play or two. Not very interesting, eh? – I know. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a highly learned person when it comes to the Art and Literature. The Arts and Literature, I believe, would be a better option than visit to theme parks, water parks, jungle tracking, hiking, whatever other activities that potentially can get me hurt or too exhausted to lift a finger at the end of the day.

So, before you consider me a boring person, please do acknowledge some of your activities just aren’t interesting enough for me.

I have very low energy level when it comes to traveling and I think most of you already know that. I’m not a big fan of walking under the scorching sun to the nearest restaurant. Well, actually I have extreme distaste for waking altogether under the sun no matter where we are walking to. Unless of course, we are walking with a breezy warm sun on the park or any place that promotes leisure.

I’m not a fan of adventures in real life. Adventures always leave you hurt and bruised physically and I do not like that. My time, if ideally spent, is never going to be in the jungle, or up a mountain chasing a rabbit, in a theme park riding a roller coaster. Instead, it will always be about having a book to read, a cup of hot tea maybe, a slow walk on the park in drizzles, quiet show in the theater or just lying around doing literally nothing. I don't have much energy ... and with what I have, allow me to do something that will only use that up slowly.

Sloth? Is that what you are calling me now? Hmph ...


Spare me from all those horrid things I pray so desperately to get myself out of …
For friendship’s sake.
Thank you.

[[ music ]] Louis Armstrong - What A Wonderful World
[[ mood ]] contemplative

3 comments

What I write in these lengthy entries is simply my wretched route of self exploration. I can allow myself to say that I cannot find another more direct way to explore myself if not by writing. Although I’m not a gifted writer (and I don’t pretend to be one), words are all I have and I shall use them to my content. I cannot be certain if I am two different person when I am in the real world and when I’m in my world of escape. I try not to be but you will have to understand that it is after all, two different worlds with two different set of circumstances. What I have to offer in these pages in the scarcity and deficiency of my language skills is sheer honesty and complete candor.

In the blog sphere, I cite no reason to lie and to put up a front. Here, there are no rules, no laws, no regulations to govern me. In the real world, there is. Here, thoughts flow as freely as the water in the river and feelings, although somewhat repressed at times, remain to reveal the clearest of depiction of myself to anyone who has any interest in knowing me. I cannot say I reveal everything, in this sense, all my thoughts, all my feelings and all my judgments. I feel there is no need for that. Some very personal opinions shall always remain to be personal and too delicate for the public’s eye.

If I remain too vague to be grasp fully in the real world, which more than a handful of people have already mentioned, I can only offer you as much as these pages can. I can promise you that you will not find TrapT more honest, more exposed than in her writings.

I have to say that there are details and little information that are insignificant to most, masked in the lengthy entries. After all, being a rather private and reticent person in reality, I hold back some of these qualities in my writing. I am not overly fond of the idea that I lie totally exposed to unnecessary judgments. Fortunately or unfortunately, however, is the fact that not many of you would have discovered these details of self-expression.

Most of you who spent time here reading this are people whom I have known for years and I shall have no qualms and quandaries that you misinterpret any of my entries. I suppose, over the years, deliberately or not, you’ve dug your way through to the interior of my being and little is left to hide. Even so, I know there are new visitors that has dropped by occasionally and made a comment or two about the difference between TrapT as a person and TrapT as a blogger.

Perhaps you are right. There is, perhaps, glaring differences you can see in me in two worlds. All I can say to that is that, I am helpless about that. I cannot possibly speak like I write. I think most people would dismiss me as a snob, which I think is already a rather established repute. I have no intentions at all in portraying two different images but I have come to believe that some of you already know the symmetry between these two images and they are very much alike.

I received a text message today.

“Btw, I read ur blog. Awesome writing!”
I thanked her for her kind acknowledgments and proceeded to ask how she has found her way to the site.

“Kynan told me. U know, ure quite a different person in ur blog. I feel that I know u deeper through ur writings.”

I am thankful that my friend here acknowledges the difference in a rather positive light. The last I want to know from my readers is that they think I am pretentious in my writings. I like to stress again, that, there is no more honesty you can find in me but through my writings. It is not in my intention that my readers know me better from my entries but I am delighted that you can deduce some part of me through my words although I’m not sure what you’ve deduced are just.


Cheerio mates.

[[ music ]] Renee Olstead - A Love That Will Last
[[ mood ]] contemplative

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It seems to me that there is a suppressed silence of uneasiness, a tender touch of discomfort lingering at the back of my mind. Perhaps its helplessness to unearth itself and the restraint it is suffering from is what intensifies its presence – simply cannot be ignored.

It commands attention. It demands interest. Yet, I have attempt so very hard to disregard it. Perhaps, it all comes down to my inability to address the roots of the issue. Perhaps, it is my incapacity to put it in plain words. I do not know for sure.

I have sat here for the past fifteen minutes not knowing what to write next and have deleted again and again what I have written; unable to decide which way it is best to put in words what I am feeling. Perhaps some emotions are not meant to be expressed in words. I just do not know.

I do not know. I think I’m beginning to use that phrase a little more often than I really should - too much uncertainty for my liking and just too much ambiguity for my preference. Then again, I suppose it’s what defines certain inexpressible distress – uncertainty and ambiguity. How else shall I put it?


Sigh …

[[ music ]] Oliver - Where is Love?
[[ mood ]] tired

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Where is love?
Oliver

Where is love?
Does it fall from skies above?
Is it underneath the willow tree
That I’ve been dreaming of?
Where is she?
Who I close my eyes to see
Will I ever know
The sweet ‘Hello’ that’s meant for only me.
Who can say where she may hide?
Must I travel far and wide?
Till I am beside
The someone who
I can mean something to
Where …
Where is love?
Who can say where she may hide?
Must I travel far and wide?
Till I am beside
Someone who I can mean something to.
Where …
Where … is love?

[[ music ]] Oliver - Where Is Love?
[[ mood ]] tired

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I have contemplated numerous times if I should limit the access of visitors to my blog. I have never actually come to a conclusion where I decide I should do that. Do not get me wrong, however. I like and acknowledge your presence. I have written about how honest I am on the blog and I shall stand by what I have said before. I am honest in my writings and I hope that is not to be debated.

I know my range of readers – some of whom I’ve known for years and years, others of whom have known for months and some who have stumbled across. I am, as ever, grateful for your time and support. I reserve no doubts about your opinions of my writing style. Some find it a real tedium and insipid while others, only soft touches pleasure. I do believe it is indeed helpful that I know the range of readers that visit. However, it is the same knowledge that has aroused the considerations once again of limiting access to the blog. There are times where I feel, regrettably, that there is a need to do so to maintain the sort of honesty I’ve been trying hard to depict through my writings.

There are just some thoughts, feelings and emotions that I wish to a great extent that I can lightheartedly display here with no worries of judgmental remarks. But, there is also an acknowledgment that I am not entirely prepared to strip the layers of shields that have protected, and is still protecting me from some of my readers. Perhaps, I am being overly cautious again – I do not know. Of course, I would have no reservations about those whom I have known for years. What you see in me is beyond these plain words and I have no need to hide from you.

There are, however, visitors of whom I have not established the same sort of bond. I am not saying your presence is giving me any form of difficulty of course. What I am saying here is that, I would appreciate it if what is written in these pages of self discovery is not discussed in reality. The blog world shall maintain its safe distance from reality. Some things are only meant to be said in this world of escape, not in reality. If I have any intentions at all of revealing myself the way I do here in the real world, I would have enlightened you in an engaged casual conversation. What I write in these pages are not about the weather or my health.

I hate to find out how many times I have to stress on my honesty in here. The fact that I have to remind myself that I shall remain honest doesn’t please me as well. I think, for those of you who blog, you’d understand how difficult it is to strike a balance between totally honest with your readers and not over revealing yourself. I share the same troubles. With people occasionally asking me about what I have written; hoping to engage me into a conversation about my writings is to the least extent, my preference. I am not a snob or at least I try not to be one here. But having to discuss what I have written, I feel, will restrict the sort of honesty I dare portray here.

I have no detest at all for comments, tags or even e-mails. In fact, I would be delighted to read them, however unpleasant they may be. Again, some things are written here because I simply do not want to say it elsewhere and some feelings are expressed here because it is best to be kept here.

I wish you do not take this entry into any offense. The faults, as usual, shall remain to be mine.


Cheerio.

[[ music ]] I'd Do Anything - Oliver
[[ mood ]] thoughtful

1 comments