gonna see them again soon. i still can't forget those 2 amazing shows in june 2007. anyway he's standing in quite a precarious position because i've seen that huge amp drop down before. no one was under it at that time though.
i think my bike suffers from ugly duckling syndrome. it's like when you know someone for a long time and she suddenly became pretty, the original ugly image will still be in your head.
likewise for my bike, when i first got it, it was quite an ugly bitch. acceptable, but ugly. now, after a new seat and some racing stripes, it does look quite pretty, i guess.
but when i look at it, i can't help but see it the way it first came. ugly green duckling with a rotten seat and stupid stickers.
anyway before i got my bike i thought i would make it super shiny and well taken care of, but now i prefer it the way it is. it's nice enough but still rough around the edges.
i don't want a prissy bike that i have to worry about all the time, like my heart will ache if it gets scratched or dirtied. now i can whack it and leave it in the rain and sun without worry.
everything works fine except for some days when it decides to be a bitch and refuses to start, leaving me in sweat after kicking it for a good 10 minutes.
a litre of petrol can last for 38km or so, which means i can probably ride to KL on a full tank (8l?) and still have some to spare.
on thursday night a kitten followed me home. i saw it at the next block and snapped my fingers at it, and it just came to me and rubbed against my legs and then scratched my pants (fucker). so i played with it for a while before going off.
and it followed me all the way home, although i cheated a little by holding the lift door open while waiting for it. the kitten then proceeded to scare the shit out of my grown cat (loser), probably because my cat hasn't seen any other animal for almost 3 years now.
following which it finished the entire tray of cat food belonging to my cat (he must really hate that fucker now), and then my sister put it back into the lift and pressed 1, out of fear that the 2 cats will battle to their death while we were blissfully asleep.
the point of this story is, such is the sadness of my life that only little cats and white, elephant-smelling creatures are attracted to me. oh ya and the kitten couldn't meow, as though it had a sore throat or something. all it could say was mherrrr. strange but true.
my work involves being around old(er) people most of the time, ranging from 25 to 40+++. sometimes when i hear them talk, it feels like the most depressing thing ever.
things like work, women, marriage, studies, family, all feel like burdens weighing down on their shoulders. and the worst part is that it all seems perfectly normal to them.
"i can't study now because my parents aren't well... have to take care of them."
"girlfriend? no more already lo. ran away with another guy."
anyone watched the oblongs back when it was shown on central a few years ago? i loved it. so sick and twisted and funny, especially the way the stories seemed pretty normal in spite of everything.
just the way i like it. but then it ended so abruptly and i proceeded to forget all about it until now, when for some inexplicable reason it wandered back into my memory.
i expect that i'll be hunting for it online once i'm free, which is soon, hopefully.
how can we live for the present when it doesn't really exist? now is merely a fleeting moment, like each of the alphabets i'm typing now. now instantly becomes the past, a memory.
the past is infinite, the future is infinite, the present doesn't exist. the strange bit is that the past influences the present, and the present will in turn affect the future. the present is the most crucial bit, but it doesn't exit.
so what are we? we are all memories, in our own minds and in the minds of others. who we are is what who they remember us to be. if no one remembers you, then you might as well have not lived.
sometimes i wonder what happens when two memories meet? do they exchange sneaky glances? do they stop to say hi? or do they just walk on by, oblivious to one another? after all they do not really exist, right?
yesterday was 1 year since i enlisted. i really meant to have a little celebration with myself but forgot all about it until today.
so, 1 year. life's been good, way better than i had imagined it to be. i never really thought that i'll manage to escape all the shit as easily as this.
we all know michael jackson died. i'm not really bothered by that. i'm not bothered by the millions of people mourning his death too, because the truth is, he IS just that great.
what i really can't stand (and wish to kill) are the people who were supposedly close to him, releasing mighty 'revelations' of him. "oh mj took a lot of drugs," "oh mj was suffering from depression," "oh mj was gay," "omg mj was really an alien!"
seriously fuck the whole lot of them. and each time one of them says something, the newspapers all take it to be the holy truth and start yet another 'true story' bullshit. i don't know if the papers are so oblivious to their stupidity or are they just so in love with how well the stories sell?
and these people, fucking hell they're acting like they knew mj so damn well, like they're his best friend or father or spy from the FBI. the truth is, they're all full of shit, and that explains why all their stories are so conflicting.
wanna know what really happened? 'mj' was actually the human host of an alien from mars. yes there are aliens from mars i swear. i know because i washed his hair once and i saw a door in his scalp and also i saw this on MIB. the alien returned to mars because he thought earthlings are invading his land with their mars probe and shit. so he went back and 'mj' died.
first off, here is a site with some nice pictures. *warning naked girls* (i know that just made more people click on it)
today i learnt that patience is virtue. and that i should always anticipate my next move to avoid last minute desperate maneuvers which don't always end happily.
i also learnt that it is not a good idea to try to shave using a pocket knife and the mirror of a scooter. it works to a minimal extent, but more skin comes off than hair. and it hurts.