...red eye shadow

Watching movies is fun. Especially when you are watching three movies in a cinema within the same day. I like Korean movies nowadays, witty lines like that of Japanese movies. Maybe, because they came from the same area, so the brainwaves might be asymmetrical and received the same ideas.

Mapado, it means Island of Mapa; supposed to be full of dried kemp/hemp leaves otherwise known as marijuana. I like the comedy, it makes fun of men. Which made them look stupid and materialistic to go after a woman who ran away with the winning lottery ticket. Old ladies in the show, a sure ingredient to having a comedic encounter. Good start, good ending.

She wore red eye-shadow because people said she look too kind-hearted. Her angelic face, she could have been a good woman, atoning for her sins; hell wraths no fury like a woman scorned. Sympathy for Lady Vengeance, I like her acting, although I can't be bothered to remember what her name was. There is something beautiful about her, her angelic face, her small lips, and her single eyelids that hid her soul. Vengeance never ends with death, it is carried around like a splinter in your toe. Does eating white tofu/cake makes one pure again? What if the sin, is not yours?

She kissed her, right in front of the conservatives. They never turned away, in that surreal world called the movies. Everything must end correctly. Wil loves her girlfriend, Vivian. They made love in bed, it is weird looking at two girls kissing each other , watching the scene with the other people in the cinema, when I prefered something in private in front of the comp. Saving Face is lacklusture, missing of something that is memorable to remember. I wish I can speak to my mum once in malay, and another in english. Wil's role reminds me of me at times, torn between two worlds, to be accepted and to be loved..

regurgitated at - 2005-10-29 @ 2:42 p.m.

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...Getting Used to It..

Hi. This is me. I have written two entries so far, I shall see how much more I can write within the next ten minutes to Advertising Management tutorial. I am still in school, I wanna still go to school. But, Mak dun want me to study when I graduate. She is tired of watching me go to school, doing assignments and projects, rushing off for a standard template of repetitive actions like waking up in the morning to go to school and waiting for the laundry to wash itself.

I cannot imagine myself without the above list of things, can you? There is something about repetition, it gets into you, reassuring you that nothing bad will happen if you keep to the schedule. And then you become complacent and lethargic and you no longer question why you do it, you simply have to do it. Did you remember, saying that you will never live the life of your workaholic dads and enjoy life with a meaningful attitude? So, have you, did it so far? I dun want to be Ayah, to enjoy life only when he received his CPF. I wish I can enjoy CPF everyday like a staple income that someone can support me with. No, I would not like that, I have gotten used to working for the money.

Then, we will become dull. We depend on this repetition to keep us going. As if, a slight displacement will endanger and cause the world to end. Like being sacked, failing your exams, missing that bus to work, losing that money in the toilet. But, the world didn't end, did it? It still goes on. Everything moves on, and people still keep walking on the surface of the Earth. Nobody waits on you, to comfort you and soothe your fears. Sure, they give you "some time to be on your own", but the moment you dewll too long it, they think you are in depression and whisk you off to a psychiatrist to be analysed.

There is nothing wrong with me. I am just sharpening the knife to see how it glimmers in the light.

regurgitated at - 2005-03-18 @ 12:57 p.m.

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...The Tudungless Moment

Hi, this is me.. Again. I need to write something to compensate for all those lost times that I never update my blog. I am not ok, whoever think I am, I am sorry to say but I am not ok.

I hate perfection, although I strive to be a perfectionist. It mocks me, teases me, insults me that I am somehow an average human being who wants to be beautiful, thin, tall, nice voice, luxurious lips and a house full of riches. That is the kind of perfection that I strive for. And yet, when I experience glimpses of it, I didn't know how to handle that privilleges.

Does anyone know that I got straight and wavy hair? Apparently, neither did I, I never took notice of that crown on my head. I tot I looked ugly wearing the tudung, so, I took it out sometimes to make myself feel beautiful. I carried my head high when I was exposing my hair in public. It has been a long time, and people who never saw me without the tudung, was praising that I am beautiful.. I was beautiful when I am able to flick my hair like the other girls out there. Yet, I feel ugly inside, I felt ugly looking at myself and drifting away from the only thing that would have protected me.

My tudung hanged lifelessly on the hanger, but I didn't want to look at myself without the tudung. I wanted to be beautiful, I tot I was beautiful without it. Right now, the burden of wearing the tudung threatens me to remove it. But, something told me to wear it again. So, here I am wearing it all over again, wonder why when I wear it, I feel protected. There is this net of security around me, wrapping me up and hiding all my assets inside long sleeved shirt and long skirts. The mystery of the tudung, I am still figuring that part out.

regurgitated at - 2005-03-18 @ 12:48 p.m.

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...An Appeal To All..

Hi. This is me. It has been a while since I last updated this dwelling of mine. I dun see the point of filling up of something when I am busy with things that need to be entertained first. This is an appeal to the readers out there, I need friends. Just friends, someone who can talk to me in the lonely nights, someone who will invite me to their birthday parties, someone who will be true to me, someone who is willing to befriend me at the first place.

At school, I don't think I got real friends, friends that can really see me more than just a project mate, I got feelings too. Please, don't treat me like an invisible, I am there aren't I? Maybe, the communication gap differ, our personalities conflict against our actual communication habits. I think my classmates are good project buddies, but somehow, I wished I have known them more than just for project buddies. Guess, there isn't much left to say when the projects are over. I accept it, I dun relish in it.

Once upon a time, there were five of us, and the number grew until there was a total of ten of us. Now, the us is no longer, I am on my own all over again. I like the simplicity of that, I dun have to meet up with anyone for lunch, just some people who are taking up spaces on the table that I enjoy food with. But, I dun want to be alone, I want to say hi to someone and the conversation does not stop there. I have a problem I realised, my friends are usually males who are twice or thrice my age, women who are well-versed with the life monotony. I miss my old friends, I am to be blame, I never bothered about them... Only during times that I feel lonely and in desperate need. Now, I dun bother anymore..

So, how about that? Wanna be my fren? someone?

regurgitated at - 2005-03-18 @ 12:41 p.m.

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