There was a snail knocking on a door. "Knock! Knock!". A man opened the door and found nobody but a snail on the floor. Feeling disgusted, he kicked the snail, and sent it flying to the opposite neighbourhood just across the road. Then he closed the door and went to sleep.
One year later, there was a knock on the same door again. "Knock! Knock!". The man opened the door and found nobody but a snail on the floor. Then immediately the snail shouted, "Why the hell did you kick me, sucker?! You wanna fight?!".
p/s: I heard this story (or joke) from Mr. Shariman, one of the school counsellors. Credit goes to him. And please tell me that you do understand the story. Hehehe.:)
There was a snail knocking on a door. "Knock! Knock!". A man opened the door and found nobody but a snail on the floor. Feeling disgusted, he kicked the snail, and sent it flying to the opposite neighbourhood just across the road. Then he closed the door and went to sleep.
A conversation between a man and a very beautiful woman.
Man : So, are you ready to answer my questions?
Woman: Yup. I'm ready. I was born ready.
Man: Right. Okay, first question, do you think that you're beautiful?
Woman: Nope. Because I'm a man, actually. It would be weird to say a man is beautiful, wouldn't it? I mean, a man can be 'handsome', or 'good-looking', and some other masculine words to describe him. But 'beautiful'? We can use the word 'beautiful' for a man, I think, but I feel so uncomfortable to use it when I know that there are better words.
Man: Owh, okay. So, do you think that you're...good-looking?
Woman: Heh, got you! Actually, I'm a woman. A real woman. I was joking just now. You can use the word 'beautiful'. Actually 'good looking' is also fine for a woman.
Man: Okay..so do you think, again, that you're beautiful?
Woman: Beauty is very subjective, don't you think so? Everybody defines beauty differently, so it wouldn't be fair if I were to say whether or not I'm beautiful, since everyone else got a different view.
Man: Yes, I agree. I understand. I realize that. Just, answer my question, please.
Woman: I don't know. Maybe? What do you think? Am I beautiful?
Man: I..I'm not looking for my opinions. I want yours. And I don't give a shit about you, honestly.
Woman: Oh, I see. Okay. Umm..
Woman: Whoa..this is tough..
Woman: Or perhaps we should change the word? How about 'interesting'? Wait, interesting is very subjective, too.
Man: You know what? Just forget it. Pretend that I was never here.
People who know me would say that 'me' is about psychology, or philosophy, or poetry, or writing, or MUSE, or English, or temper, or thinking. Whatever.
But those who really know me would say that 'me' is about fantasies and imaginations. Yup, that is the real me. I fantasize things all the time.
So why do I talk so much about aliens?
Why did I write 'This Is How Aliens Are Going To Destroy Us'?
I see 'aliens' as the unexpected things that can happen or intervene into our lives. In 'This Is How Aliens Are Going To Destroy Us' (the previous post), I described the character 'alien' as one little thing that when the time is not right, can bring up so many hatred, or sad memories, or fights, or unexpressed feelings, or grudges that lie deep inside us. Oh yes, we all love to pretend that we don't have anything inside, don't we?
But then one day, something 'so tiny' happens, or is said, then everything snaps. Everything goes out. Like the father who blames the son for his wife leaving him, and like the son who blames the father for not taking good care of his mother.
And why did I write 'Aliens Will Never Know Us'?
In that post, I described 'aliens' as the unexpected outcomes that can be brought up based on things that we have done. It is true if I say that we all love to ignore those 'little things' we always do, isn't it?
But then one day, something terrible happens, and it is all started from those 'little things'. Like how we always leave out some words, or add up more, and eventually change the whole message, and finally it becomes a different message, that holds another meaning to other people. Everything changes. Sometimes it's a good change, sometimes it's not.
Then why did I write 'Are We Actually Aliens, Too?'
I described 'aliens' as 'us'. How different we think aliens can be, how frightening we believe aliens can be, how mysterious we see aliens can be, and how exact we 'never' see aliens can be. To us, aliens are strangers. To them, we are strangers. So, doesn't that fact make both of us 'aliens', too?
Let's face the fact. We don't need aliens to show us what humans are. Because there are moments when we are becoming 'aliens' to another person. Oh come on! Just look at us. Are we always warm to everyone around us? Are we always good to our friends and families? Do we always believe in other people?
This is why I love fantasy. I can talk about all those stupid, absurd, ridiculous and unreal things, and you may find it annoying. But one fact that we fail to see is, that those imaginary things, are made based on real things. We are real. Our brains are real. Our lives are real.
I'm having a streak of bad luck. I've done terrible mistakes, and somehow, they get under my skin. But do you know what is the ONE thing that makes me smile throughout any circumstances? It's my fantasies.
So I do hope that even if my fantasies ridicule you, and annoy you, one day they are able to find their way to you, show you their intended meanings, and bring the smiles out of you.
Our creativity is only limited by our imagination. Don't limit ourselves, please. I'm just trying to make everybody smile, and see those things we have forgotten. And forgive me should I fail doing that.
Time to relax your mind and squeeze the absurdity out of you.
But remember, pal. For that even in absurdity there might lie the truth to ponder.
I have been thinking about how humans can be easily destroyed by aliens in the future, and this is what I've managed to come up with.
An alien comes down to Earth for a vacation and stops at a gifts shop.
This is the conversation.
Alien : Kreeeeeeet..(it can't speak human)
Father : Stop playing with your phone, Aqil. (busy wrapping up a present)
Son : I'm not playing with my phone, dad.
Alien : ...?? Kreeeet..?
Father : For God's sake, Aqil, can you please stop playing with your phone? Can you help cleaning up the place or something?
Son : I'm not playing with my phone, dad! And the place is already clean.
Alien : Kreeet? Kreeeeet..!! (angered by the fact that nobody is serving him)
Father : Okay! I've had enough! (he stands up, walks towards his son, takes the mobile phone off the son, and throws it out of the place)
Son : Dad! What's wrong with you?? What did you do that for??!
Father : I'm tired of you, okay? Such a bonehead and all you do is play! No wonder your mom left you in the first place!
Son : My mom didn't leave me! She left you! You stupid jerk! The only thing you know how to do is to sculpt things and sell them! That is all!!
Alien : Kreee...? (stupefied)
The son leaves the place and never comes back.
The alien is too small for them to notice, and even if they do, to them 'he' will look more like one of the sculptures the father made rather than a 'person'.
Alien : Kreeeet..! (poor service!)
p/s: Wanna know more about aliens? Check the 'fantasy' genre.XD
The wind of sorrow escapes swiftly
as the land of merriment strives gracefully
to the unlimited and unwanted
wishes that may sound exaggerated
and you make them remain re-generated
by the sounds of loneliness
by the everlasting forgiveness
It is you that I am here to be with
but my soul is covered in grease and filth
I am sorry for the sky makes you feel shy
and the clouds give reasons for you to deny
interpreted solemnly within the grasp
perceived pathetically between the gap
may the answers be found and overlapped
so many dreams shattered yet I still feel
you have taught me to learn what is real
Peace will come to thee as you don’t see love in me
peace will come to me as I see someone loving thee
They say that the world will see peace when everyone scores 'A' in the exams. At first, I believed in it. But then, when I think about it again, it could be the other way round.
Imagine that the world you are living now is full with brilliant people. Wherever you go, you see doctors, lawyers, scientists, politicians, engineers, musicians, poets, writers, athletes, you name it. They are successful people, they are too good that they believe they deserve more. Yes, brilliant people always seek for more. Be grateful for what you have now, but always strive to become better. Don't you always have that in mind? Don't lie to yourself, at least.
So, everybody wants to do their best, beat the rest, and be the best (cliche?). But then, who is going to be the cleaners, waiters, drivers, and the likes of them? (I am not saying that those jobs are unworthy, but if we compare them to those jobs mentioned earlier...you get the point)
Humans have this nature that when they have become great people, they as well possess 'pride' that disallows them to do petty stuff. Then what will happen to the environment, our nature and surroundings? Who is going to clean them, preserve them when everybody is too busy reaching the top of the world?
Today I happened to meet one of the cleaners at the school that I am working in. We talked (in Malay). She spoke very humbly, and she apologized for some of the dirt that 'touched' my shoes. I said, "It's okay. That is what shoes are made for. To take all the dirt and protect our legs from getting dirty." I even joked, saying, "If we don't want our shoes to get dirty, then we should wrap them up before wearing." Then she replied, "But you're a teacher." I smiled. At that time, I realized that something had been wrong.
I have to admit that I myself always looked down on that kind of jobs when I was younger. But my friends and I always joked around saying, "If there are no people coming to our houses and taking all the rubbish, then we would be doing it instead!"
Since that moment we realized, even though those people (cleaners we looked down on, waiters we shouted at, drivers we gave orders to, and more) are not as successful as what we have been dreaming about, they actually have saved us from making ourselves struggle to mend our lives from the tiniest and dirtiest part.
I believe that everyone has their own part to play in this world. Some are meant to get everything, and some are meant to lose something. Some are destined to move forward, while some have to stay behind.
I still haven't changed my mind about getting to the top of the world, but I have come to know that those who can't walk beside me when I am up there, they deserve my respect. They deserve our respect. Because they are doing things that we are not able to do.
Sometimes I wonder if this is only my feeling. Sometimes I wonder if I think too much of it. As I am quite observant, I enjoy looking at people. You can never know how funny one can be, how vulnerable one can be, how ignorant one can be, how important one can be, until the moment you 'see' how they are in the way you see them.
I am currently doing my practicum as an English teacher in a school. Little does one know that the very school I am in now, is the very same school that I used to walk and go to for five years, years ago. Yes, I studied there.
It has been three months now. So you can imagine how many people that I have been observing throughout this three-month time. Many. I have seen a variety of people with a variety of attitudes, and I have gathered a variety of accidental knowledge. Never you mind about those 'knowledge'.
But this is the best part, for me. I see the next generation of me. Of my friends. Of my classmates. Of my schoolmates.
I see a student who speaks exactly like how my friend did at school. I see students who walk exactly like those gangsters wannabe during my years. I see a girl who looks exactly like the girl that I used to flirt with at school. I see students who make themselves a nerd, exactly like my old classmates. And I see a boy who thinks and argues exactly like how I used to do in my class in those years. I see what I saw in those school years not so long ago, now.
So, is this some kind of a message, in which it tells us that the world and history are repeating themselves. It is totally weird in my feelings when I have to see how close and how exact they are to me and those who had been around me. I feel like I have somehow entered a new dimension that brings me back to the old days. I feel like I am there to go through my life for the second time.
I guess this is life. What had happened a long time ago, will eventually happen again.
Anyway, have you ever been in this kind of situations? That you see people around you doing things exactly like how you and your friends did years back. And some of them even look the same!
If I'm not mistaken, this is my first time publishing a post about 'LOVE'.
I think, most of girls love this 'LOVE' topic.
I've read so many entries discussing the topic from so many blogs, and most of them were written by girls. Love of partnerships, love of families, love of animals, love of doing this and that; all sorts of love.
And boys, some of us tend to avoid talking about 'LOVE'. I have to admit that I am, still, one of them. Not saying that I don't deal with love, no, I'm still human, but I don't really enjoy talking about 'it' most of the time. I mean, talking about it with other people. You can talk about fantasy, life, psychology, philosophy, entertainment and sports, I'll join you. But love? Hardly. I don't even speak about it with my family.
So why now?
Well, we celebrated Mother's Day last week, and are currently celebrating Teacher's Day. Not to forget, wherever I go, I see people hanging out with their loved ones happily. I've been seeing 'love' a lot lately. And I can say that I kind of 'lost' it, too.
Talking about love, do we have a specific meaning, an absolute definition of love? I have heard so many words describing 'LOVE'. So I can say that everyone sees love as one same thing, but describes them differently.
Then what about me? What is my definition of love? How do I see it? How do I describe it?
"When you start thinking about someone else more than you do for yourself."
Two students were talking to each other at the back, while the teacher was busy explaining Pythagorean theorem to the others. The teacher slapped them right on the face. At the end of the year, those two students scored 'A' in Mathematics.
One student was having a nice slumber in the class when the English teacher gave out a handout containing a short passage on the novel 'The Phantom Of The Opera'. The teacher slapped the boy hard on the back of his head, and the boy woke up in shock. The next year, he scored 'A' for English subject in 'PMR'.
Half of the class didn't read the short story that was given a week before. The teacher slapped them, kicked down the door and went out furiously. Six months later, the class won the 'Nadi Ilmu Amalan Membaca' a.k.a 'NILAM' (a reading program) award for reading more then 300 books each.
Three students were caught copying during the monthly test. The teacher slapped them, and yelled at them in anger. Ten years later, they became the chief invigilator in their respective college.
See? When a teacher slaps, it actually means more than just pain.
It's a slap of destiny.
But I don't slap my students.
Physical assault won't last.
I'm more into giving them their worst fear.
If the one who messes with me is a boy student, then I'm gonna flirt with his girlfriend and snatch her away from him. Let him cry in vain. Broken-hearted.
If the one who messes with me is a girl student, then I'm gonna introduce her boyfriend a better girl so that he will immediately leave her. Let her cry in pain. Broken-hearted.
Emotionally damaged is the worst condition for humans like us can ever be in.
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Heh Heh Heh Ha Ha Ha.
Damn, how I wish I could do that.
Kids like them are cute, except for the part when they are not being cute anymore. And on this coming 16th, teachers will have their day.
When I was six, we had this female cat 'who' just gave birth to three beautiful kittens. They were so beautiful.
But my brother said that the house had already had so many cats, we could not afford to have more. So he asked me to 'throw' away those kittens.
But I was a dumb kid. I told myself, "What will happen to these kittens if they were to live far away from this house without getting a proper meal to eat? They are so young.."
I thought of some 'clever' ways to prevent those 'kids' from suffering. "Life can be so cruel," I told myself. Finally I found a way.
I picked a wooden stick, I walked towards those innocent kittens, and I hit one of them as hardly as I could so that it could never live. It died, right in front of my eyes. Then I put my eyes on the other two. One was already running into the bushes behind my house, and I couldn't find it. The last one didn't run. It stayed.
I looked at it, and I purposely dropped the stick right onto its leg. The kitten screamed. I broke one of its legs. Then my friends saw me doing that terrible act, and I pretended that it was an accident. " I didn't mean to hurt it! It was done not on purpose!" I said.
Together we put the last remaining kitten in a coop. I entered my house, I confessed to my late father about what I had done. He said, "that is a very big sin, you should never do that again. It might become a curse (in Malay we say 'badi') in the future".
Since that very moment, I felt so guilty and stupid for doing such an idiotic inhumane cruelty. I tried to save the last kitten, but it died soon after the 'accident'. I tried to find the kitten that ran away, but it was a failure. I cried.
From that moment, I promised myself that I will always love cats no matter what. They will be my friends, and I will be theirs.
Until now, every time there's a cat coming into my house, crying for food, I will feed them. I always believe that among those cats that have been coming to my house, one of them could be the kitten that survived in the bushes.
Years have gone now, I still haven't forgiven myself for what I did. And I still tell my mother, "If there's a cat coming and asking for food, just give it some. Who knows, whatever we have now is a present for what we did to those cats?" Even cats know how to pray.
About the curse, it actually happened. After that bloody incident, I started to love cats so much that I would never live without them. At the same time, I started to feel the 'pain'. Whenever a cat was dying in front of me, or already dead, I would feel terrible. I felt like crying. It didn't hurt me physically, but somehow it 'hurt' my heart every time I see a dead cat. A terrible pain. Until now.
Believe me, that is one of my greatest regrets in my life, and I swear to God, if I ever got the chance to go back and change the past, I would first go to that 'bloody' moment and stop that dumb me.
just try to understand like your very first run
what she has done and why over why
didn’t make you cakes and your favourite pie
hit your back then shared a cry
just do what it takes and forget about you
to undo those sad and unwanted tears
then whisper slowly in one of her ears
and throw away those sickening fears
just close your eyes and make yourself free
hold on to your hands and the belief you know
say thanks perfectly don’t ask for more or so
but for her to live so many years to go
just move your lips and think deep to the core
stand up proudly then kneel down closer
speak to your heart and summon its tender
say “I’m happy Mother, that you’re always here”
After giving it a second thought, I have decided to make this page available for everybody. I mean, for everybody to give comments.
So, from now on, even though you aren't a blogger, you are allowed to say a word or two. Help me improve myself. Or at least, improve my blog.
Thank You. Hehe.
I have been thinking a lot lately..
Why do people change? Why must people change?
What is so special about being able to change? Does it change anything if people can change? Will it harm anybody if people can't change?
If we started with an 'A', then why do we have to change it to a 'K'?
If we first wanted a cold ice tea, then why must we change it to a hot coffee?
I don't get it. Is everything about us wrong? Should we change like, everything?
There is a boy who wants to change, from not being able to change to being able to change. A change is like a chain to him. Once you decided to change, you have already changed. The only difference is whether or not you can prove that you have changed. Like a chain, once you bought it, even if you are not wearing it, you still have a chain. That is what he believes.
Everybody needs a chance to change. Life would be boring if everything is always the same. Life needs changes. And to produce changes, people need to change.
I once bought a shirt, but it had some unwanted spots on it. They asked me to change it. I once was told to decide a name for the team. I suggested one, and they asked me to change it. I once bought some food, I paid, I turned, and they said, "dude, don't forget the change!".
So, why do we have to change again?
Because that is life. Life is always changing. Whether we like it or not.
My question is, how many times did i mention the word 'change'?
p/s: I'm literally retarded at the moment. Please forgive me.
I read this story years ago from a magazine. Not sure what magazine.
So I want to share it with any of you guys out there.
If you have heard of this story, please pretend that you haven't.
There is a boy who is so naughty. He does a lot of things that most people don't like, and because of that, the boy's father has to find a way to control him.
Fortunately, the father has found one. It's the power of staring right into his son's eyes....
When the boy tries to steal a candy from a shop, the father stares at him, and the boy puts down the candy back on the shelf.
When the boy tries to ride a bicycle that belongs to someone else without the owner's permission, the father stares at him, and the boy puts the bicycle back to where it was.
When the boy tries to eat a cookie while everybody is reciting prayer at a function, the father stares at him, and the boy puts the cookie back on its plate.
And one day, when the boy and the father go to the mosque for prayer, the boy can't control his eager to undo something in front of him. He and his father are praying at the front row, just behind the 'imam'. The boy sees that the bottom part of the imam's 'jubah' is stuck between his butt cheeks. He can't help from thinking about it, and finally he decides to pull the 'jubah' out of the 'pit'. The father sees what his boy is doing, and stares.....
The boy knows what that means. Message delivered, and he sticks the 'jubah' back into the 'pit'. Oh yeah.
I always bring book 'A' to class every day, even though I know the book won't be used by the teacher.
But one day, I decide not to bring the book. Then in class, teacher asks me to use that book.
I always fasten my seat belt when I'm driving or sitting in a car, even though I know the police won't be there to stop and fine me.
Then one day I decide not to fasten the seat belt, and then the police's setting up a roadblock and I struggle to pull the damned belt.
I always do this and that, even though I know it won't be necessary. But one day I decide not to do it (or them), and that will be the day when all those things I used to do WILL be necessary, or something bad happens.
This is me. Perhaps it's just a coincidence, I don't know, but every time I break my habits or routines, something bad happens (we should not believe in this kind of things). Those things I mentioned above are just two out of so many events and things happened in my life.
And last night (Saturday), it happened again. Worse.
I'm not a man who always loves to join a family trip. I'm a man who prefers to stay at home while my family go out and have fun somewhere. It's not that I don't appreciate my family or have bad blood with them, no, it's something complicated to explain. Just assume that I always 'take care' of the houses (two of my brothers (all married) are staying at the same location; one in front of my house (me and my mother), and the other behind) while they are gone. That's what I always did.
But last Friday, they decided to have a 3-day trip to Malacca, and I joined them. I broke my habit.
Guess what? Someone broke into my brother's house. We got a call from one of the relatives saying that the house was messy (he went into the house to feed my sister-in-law's beloved cat named 'Katik') and we rushed home immediately.
Missing items: Sony PSP, some cash and one packet of Vitagen. He (or they) even managed to sit and read the 'Mangga' magazine and had a drink (Yeos' Soya Bean)!
So? Should I stop breaking the habits?
The only good thing happened while I wasn't there was that I told my brother to bring his laptop because I wanted to do my work. If I didn't, then the laptop would definitely be one of the missing items that will be sadly missed.
p/s: I broke another habit while I was there at Malacca. From Friday until Saturday evening, I wore my cap every time we went out. But that Saturday night, I felt tired of wearing a cap, so I decided to not wear the cap. I combed my hair nicely, went out with my family, and got a call few minutes later.
Alberto Gonzalez Cappuccino lives in Zimbabwe.
Rubella Mocha Buccacio is from Zimbabwe, but now studying in Kelantan, Malaysia.
They are madly in love with each other.
So before Mocha left, Cappuccino told her that she must never forget him, and never ever fall in love with another man, or worse, another girl. He said;
"I heard Malaysian men are good-looking, smart, polite, love reading, animal lovers, kind-hearted, they hate terrorism and eat a lot, and....they eat a lot. It's a country of food! They told me that they love to ea..."
"Okay, I got it! They eat a lot. I got it. Well, I don't like men who eat a lot. I like men like you. Tasty.." she winked.
"Okay...goodbye then.." he wished sadly.
"Bubbye love.." she replied, and she was gone.
"Bubbbbbbyeeeee.....wait! What about 'good-looking', 'smart', 'polite', 'love reading', 'animal lovers', 'hate terrorism' and 'kind-hearted'?? You didn't say you don't like them!?"
Three years later.
They are still together, still loving, still missing.
They contact each other via E-Mail, YM, SMS, MMS, and their most favourite medium, letters on a bird. They learned this technique from Mocha's great great grandfather.
Cappuccino is creative, he once tried sending a letter using a cat (since he knows Mocha loves cats so much) about one and a half year ago. But Mocha told him that she had never received that particular letter.
Cappuccino plans to make a surprise visit to his beloved girlfriend in Malaysia. He asks his best friend, Gustavo Latte to use his YM account, pretend as him and chat with Mocha at a certain time on a certain date. And Cappuccino has already gone to Malaysia a day before the planned 'chatting' session.
So when the day comes, Mocha chats with her beloved 'Cappuccino' (which is Latte at the moment) and is not expecting him to be there in Malaysia. Then suddenly, someone rings the door bell. The girl opens the door.
"Surprise, Mocha dear..!!!????" Cappuccino looks into the girl's eyes in shock.
"Umm...Mocha is not home at the moment..." she replies.
"What? Where is she? Who are you?" he asks curiously.
"I'm Susu, her housemate. She's in...oh no..." slapping her head.
"What?" his heart starts pounding heavily.
Meanwhile, in Zimbabwe...
Latte is wondering why Mocha is not replying his messages. Then suddenly someone knocks the door. He opens it, and...
"Surprise, Cappuccino love...!!!!!????"