Wow.

 By, ShadowMax76. (http://ShadowMax76.deviantart.com/art/Men-don-t-cry-sad-one-53594487)

Men don't cry. Though I am a boy, I am the son of a man. My father taught me things, infact everything I hold in my hands. When I fell over on the pathway, just when I was five. I started to cry, and I didn't know why. I couldn't help myself, the pain, the feeling, the anguish, the fear. Overwhelming me, till my dad picked me up on his shoulders, And said;        "Woah, you only fell down! Come now son,           if a tear were in your eyes everytime you fell,           what man would you be? Do you want to be a strong man           like daddy?" I didn't quite understand him, but I knew what I had to do. I learnt my first lesson, in becoming a man. I'm only a boy of 16. And I haven't cried since. Not when I fell off my bike at 7, Not when my parents were mad at me when I was 11, Not when bullies stabbed me with sticks, Not when I was yelled at by my favourite teacher, for crimes I did not commit. But...one time...when it happened, I cried...so hard...in the first time in many years... My sister died, at age 15, by a school beating. I did not weep, I only felt like choking on this feeling, tears streaming ear to ear. In bed I lied, in the soft pink pillow my sister loved when she was alive. I pursed my lips so hard, I gritted my teeth harder. With all my efforts I pushed this feeling back, but then my dad stepped in. He didn't say a word, he came sat me up and held me in his arms. And the feeling got worse, not only that, my dad started weeping. I....I didn't know what to do.... even if he cried...especially...cuz..- My eyes were wides, wider then ever before. I saw the man, lost, the one I've grown to hate and used to adore. I saw me crying. In the future. And that moment I finally saw, That man does cry, but men do not.

Smart or Smarter?

Which is it better to be, smart or hard working. Often, I've marveled at those who are able to simply finish their work or unwind spectacularly difficult pieces of math. We've seen how it all happens, they simply sit there with a pencil in their hands and in less than half an hour, they nearly set the paper aflame with their brilliant brilliance; while leaving us mere mortals in the ashes of their smoldering intelligence.

Geniuses. Pfft. 

Of course, if you belong to the same class as I am, the is the dude who marvels at the marvelous. You would probably understand where I'm coming from. Once, I took 45 minutes to finish an algebra question, finding it right, I decided to treat my self to a celebratory half hour television sit down. Upon inspecting my beautiful work, I found that it was wrong. I refused to do anymore mathematical equations for the rest of that horrid day. Needless to say, my brain's not too well suited to numbers. Or most other logical proportions, calculations or equations for that fact. 

Hoewever, i was reading today about Stanley Ho, one of the richest men in the world and the person whose ever paid the highest price every for a portobello mushroom. He is also known as the "King of Gambling" due to his monopoly over Macau gaming industry for 35 years.

"Ho studied in Queen's College, Hong Kong, in which he attended class D because his academic results were unsatisfactory. Having realised studying assiduously is the only way to improve his social status after his father's bankrupcy, Ho worked extremely hard in school. Eventually, His hard work paid off and earned him a scholarship to the University of Hong Kong.^[1] He became the first student studying in Class D to be granted a university scholarship.

While at the University of Hong Kong, he lived in Ricci Hall and was an active hall member. In addition to his major subject, he also became fluent in English, Japanese and Portuguese." (wikipedia)

and the next person I clicked on was Margaret Thatcher. British Prime Minister

"Thatcher was brought up a devout Methodist and has remained a Christian throughout her life.^[8] After attending Huntingtower Road Primary School, she won a scholarship to Kesteven and Grantham Girls' School.^[9] Her school reports show hard work and commitment, but not brilliance." (wikipedia)

Looks like its more about hard work then intelligence. 

New Years.

New years are dates that are momentous, wonderful days, mostly because of the word "new". It is marked by fire works, parties and kisses. Playstation parties and Pizza; cybercafe marathons and movies. Why? Because its the celebration to remember all that is good in the old year and to look forward to what is to come in the new year. 

Picking this date, the first of january, would be a tradition for most procrastinators, as most procrastinators often need a large celebration or event in order to give them a boost to change their ways. I am a huge procrastinator.

Now all of this is good and fine, except that, being a through and true procrastinator, I normally end up going back to my old ways of fine living and dining. 

Perhaps the secret is in not having New year's resolutions but instead, acting on resolutions before the year is up. 

So, as for this new year. I shall not have any new year's resolutions. And if people were to ask me for the sake of their pleasure what my new year's resolutions are; I shall merely make up a few entertaining ones for the company's enjoyment. 

After all, new year doesn't make people new, it just makes them older. So might as well get to the stuff I need to do right away. 

I

Rap in Boo

I've never actually liked classical music; mostly because the genre pushed me to think of how the song made me feel in order to enjoy it. Not just that, I always had to try to figure out what the wrtier was expressing, reading with my ears, my eyes seeing nothing. Often, i relax listening to mainstream. What's there to decipher with "my humps, my humps, my lovely lady bumps! Check em out!"?* 

Classical music and jazz, not very interesting music to me. I always thought of it as the music rhythm and rhyme uncles and aunties admit to liking after being conversationally pushed away from the Beatles and Bee-Gees. However, while I was watching the recording of the Grammy awards 2008, the Awards came to an introduction of Classical and Jazz. The mustached actor then spoke of the beauty of the two genres and then said "Gershwin". His name meant nothing to me, I merely thought he was one of those grizzled classical writers who have been blessed with more than their fair share of facial hair. However, the man then introduced, Rhapsody in Blue. 

Wow. 

*I don't actually listen to Humps. 

Sweet

"OI!!! GO AGGRO LA YOU!!"

"no way I can keep shooting already lorr"

"smack down! Smack down! SMACK HIM DOWN!!"

"CAN YOU STOP RUSHING!?"

"faster go and rush! That's the only way were going to do it okay!"

"you see! That's why! You always rush, then afterwards I have to go clean up."

"Can you stop saying go aggro? Its a verb. Say aggroing!

"wah liao, I'm down man." "again!?"

"Ok ok, I have aggro now!"

"Woo! Overkill suckers!!"

"stupid la you."

*to those who know what this post is about, come tell me if I left out any other quotes.

TAG! Heuer.

I have been gracefully tagged!

1. What bothers you most?

People who look down on me. And celery. 

2. What is your most favorite thing to do? 

Having a good time going crazy with friends or listening to music in a comforting place. 

3 What kind of news do you read. 

Buisness and the SPM help section. New Straits Times. (Star, second section, comics)

4 What is your ultimate wish. 

To be a boy. Wait!! I am a boy!! See, wishes do come through! No. I want to be all that I can be. Maybe become iron man? Seriously, if batman were to go head to head against Iron man; I think Iron Man would smear I-use-high-pitch-screams-to-know-where-I'm-going-my-worst-enemy-wears-lipstick-and-my -best-friend-is-Morgan-Freeman man all over the floor. While Rat-with-wings man would be still wondering whether or not to blast Iron Man in his un-blastable titanium armour, Iron Man would have smashed him to bits with his luminous light intensifier. Or something like that. 

5 Is there someone in your heart right now?

That someone took my heart. (sad music plays)

6 Can you survive without money?

No.

7 Are you afraid of pain?

I'm allergic to pain.

8 What do you feel like doing right now?

Sing "fly me to the moon" at the top of my lungs.

9 If there's someone you love, would you confess to him/her?

Mommy I looooovee youuuu!!!!

10 What do you want to do right now but you can't?

Sing "fly me to the moon" at the top of my lungs. Its 1am.

11 What is your six most passionate thing at the moment? (What sort of english.)

God

Finding something to be passionate about.

Finding out what I'm good at and what God has in store for me.

Getting more organized.

Slimming down. (its a matter of health now.)

A good time.

12 What is the thing that will make you think he or she is bad?

I don't know. Bad at what? Bad at doing stuff? Bad at turning pink rhinoceroses into yellow polka dotted warlocks?

13 If you had to eat one thing for the rest of your life what would you choose?

You. Raar.

14 If you had a choice to be rich or happy, which would you pick?

Thing is, if you were to be happy 24/7, its just plain boring. Also, if you don't know sadness , how can you truly know happiness? I'd rather be rich and experience all emotions. Money can't buy happiness, but then again, happiness IS free, private jets and Darth Vader suits aren't.

15 How do you see yourself in five years time?

Please refer to one of my older posts and divide the amount of years into half. 

17 What do you dislike about yourself?

Like I'm going to tell you. 

18 How long did it take you to get over your first love?

Still going strong, me and her deciding to get married soon. 

19 Tell a secret you've never told anyone before.

I like the smell of my dirty socks. Only mine though.

Pasar Malam!!! or Night Market.

I am from Malaysia, born in Malaysia, raised in Zimbabwe and the furthest I've ever been out of this country would be Australia, and that was this year. In fact, the only thing I've known about other countries, cuisine and hang out spots would be on Astro's Travel and Living with the Wright dude. Born and bred Malaysian. 

However, today was fascinating. I headed off to Matthias' house to be invited(I invited myself) over to the pasar malam. Since I was hungry, like I always am, I was excited with the notion f filling up my belly with the usual dry and friend stuff. 

When I got there, it was all so exciting! This was the first time  had ever been to the OUG Pasar Malam, even if it was only a mile away from my house. The movie sellers where the best. They had Blu-ray tech on their wooden tables as well as; I kid you not, Kungfu Panda 2. In my righteous anger, I overturned their tables and trampled over their pirated merchandise. The scum. Wandering away after the chaos, my eyes caught sight of an extremely inviting wan tan stall that sold wan tan alone! Who sells that!? I gleefully ordered eight of those things and shoved them into my mouth. That was the beginning of my gluttony.  

There were so many people, and enough hair dye to pollute the Nile river. In the more popular areas one could seriously wind up being compressed. Thank God the whole place actually smelt pleasant with fried, steamed, baked and goodness knows what else wafting through the air and molesting my nose. People actually smelt good too! No, I didn't stick my nose into the first armpit I saw. The lalas and the rockers actually showered before coming, it all smelt like fragrance and shokobutsu whenever I had to push past people. 

I often wondered where the teenage female population of Oug was. I found them. Finally. Yes. I was awesome. 

Food was lovely. Seriously, I had this mega wierded out sausage like thingy was smashingly delicious! Forget the Germans and their Bratwurst, or the British and their British sausages, the Italians and their Italian sausage or the Siberians and their Siberian sausage. Meet THE garlic sausage. I didn't taste any form of garlic in it; however, it was sort of sweet and salty! With that magical bite to it. I was in love. 

The next would be steamboat. Only, I didn't pay much attention to the goodies that had to be steamed before eating. One of the things on that sushi king wannabe lorry would be this metal bowl that had bits of decapitated animal in black sauce. It was roughly duck or pork liver, tied with an edible chord to what looked like a piece of fat. Intruiged and hungry, I looked over to aunty Mag for assurance before trying it. Taking small bites; the first nibble caught on to a piece of salty, bitter "liver". The second went straight for the deliciously sweet fat. Then I realized, you had to put both in your mouth at the same time! Explains why both pieces were tied up together. Following the implied directions. I tried both at the same time and the pieces exploded in my mouth! My face looked enraptured and I couldn't stop saying how good it was! It was so fantastic; I nearly took another, before wondering what it really was and how exactly it was cooked. 

Of course, that was nearing the end of the night. However, with good often comes the bad, and I was definitely treated to the bad as well. Sugar Cane juice. More like slightly sugared water with too much ice in it. That completely washed away any sense of goodness I still had in my mouth and left me high and dry; in a gastronomical sense.

Having done that, a dear friend had the generosity to share his _______ with me. That was delicious. Yes it was, reminded me so much of roti canai though. Aunty Mag then gave me a lift home to a night of blasting Zombies with Matthew.