This LIFE is semi-retired.

Hi! I'm updating this space to tell you guys that this second, seemingly, kinda, sort of unsuccessful attempt at deeply documenting my thoughts I call a blog will now be semi-retired. Facebook status updates and tweeting are a lot easier these days to blab about things like my views on life, society, and current events. Blogging, however, takes a little bit of thought. Heck, even THIS pinned post takes a while to be typed too.

The NARNIA division, however, I shall try and actively live it up; where I'll say good or crappy things about films, TV series, music, video games, events, or literature I have read... if this lazy-leech thing ever comes off of my brain, that is. 'Till then.

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Holy shithead.


 
Lewl. Okay, don't read the title like how this chick pronounce it. Say it as is. Just wanna go on and say this again (I'll probably do this again in the future). GOD, I missed blogging! And doing reviews! AND writing! And post random shit like this!
I FUCKING MISS THAT SHIT! What are you doing to me, laziness?! What are you doing to me, social media?! And most importantly... WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO ME, ADULTHOOD?! CAN'T A NIGGA ENJOY HIS PASSION?!
Boy, this sure beats Twitter and Facebook sometimes.

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Suddenly feel like cock-saucing. Hmm.



Sriracha sauce. It's basically Thailand's answer to Tabasco. I don't know. As creepily, absurdly funny The Oatmeal's remarks and obsession over it, he convinced me that I should try it.

Yes, he's so obsessed with what the Americans dubbed as 'rooster sauce' (when it isn't even MADE of an actual rooster), he made ME wanna go obsessed about it even thought I never had one by answering this quiz he made to see if I am a Sriracha addict! I must try it... now that this ain't half bad lady mentioned The Oatmeal AND use Sriracha sauce in a stir fry! Wanna try it sometime!




P/S: Not promoting any particular brand of Sriracha sauce in any way. I just feel like posting about it for no reason.

Death is certain. A comeback will have to wait.

Archive file, courtesy of my dear onee-chan.

Ahh, those glourious, yet painful, almost shower-less three-week stay
at KPJ Healthcare, Section 20, Shah Alam (yes, I spelled it Tarantino-style).
And that lubang-masuk-ubat thing you see on my hand here wasn't even in its final
position! And this was taken on my last few days at the hospital too! Dang!

Hello, craptards of old. Who still thinks blogs are in and what not in this yet another new year. Yes, a New Year post on February. And it's been a few months since I wrote something in here. Screw you. I can do whatever I want!

Where good old limited blue bird can never do what my wild, uncertain brain particles do best; blab about my life eloquently, in more personal and wordy manner. TwitLonger service sucks (actually, I never understood how to use that shit, and I don't see the point of tweeting an ESSAY of things to say 'cause you know, anything too short can never be trusted that much [another 'teori memandai'... oh yeah, pardon me on my knack to prolong sentences... like what I'm doing right now as we speak]). Blogs are better at expressing bloated, overblown pent up frustrations and stuff rather than those pesky things we call social media websites, right?

Speaking of bloated-ness... I was trapped in the hospital, for the second time, on a much longer period than the first time, again at the end of the semester (for this stay, it's on my fourth semester). I was especially extra-worried back at my confinement; from initially just about my studies, it evolved to worrying about what's gonna happen to my body, my future, and my life. It's all freaking connected to each other. It made me ponder if  everything I ever did for leisure and for seriousness was ever worth it or not. All of this will usually loom in my noodles and  stay there, in my imagination, but the longer I stayed there with nothing to do but watch redundant TV and a failed attempt at catching up with my semi-realistic 'social life' (you know what I'm talking about), the more I think I should move my ass a little bit more than usual while still maintaining the relaxation state, since overworking, resting, thinking too much, and refraining from eating too much stuff that could bloat me up, especially after being diagnosed with a minimal-chain nephritic syndrome (it's a kidney infection thing... go look it up) will only make it worse. This prompted me to be smart about managing and putting a little more thought about my life and what I do with it, which I'm currently still struggling to work on. I'm a half-spoiled brat and half-empty person see. I have all the basic tools I need; like the Internet, now a motorbike, and the whole neighbourhood (and the whole of Shah Alam and beyond) to explore.. but at the same time, I have to get things like extra cash (I'm talking part time jobs; things I never really stuck a luck with so far... not even once), due bike license, house maintenance, and any meaningful and beneficial events or errands to attend to. So I'm not that spoiled after all. I just don't know where to start.

Sorting my life out can be a bummer. Heh, that's just part of being a better grown-up human, huh? Face it dude. You're living with a disease and still breathe... of course all of this nonsense I blabbed up there are just a breeze. Life is easy, but death is easier. Deal with it.

P/S:

1. Generic life shit again. I was never that creative to begin with. I just play with words... and the irony of life... and things that bugs me about the things I feel and see. Well, can't say I didn't try to write a long post after lingering too long in the oh-so-short world of Facebook and Twitter thoughts; both of which are getting more and more useless, but still needed nonetheless, each and every day.

2. Screw you, Zuckerberg and the likes.

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Hai.

Bersarang bai. Kbye.

#thatshitrhymesyo