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.

'Cause you don't know what you got until it's gone.

  Self-explanatory.

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!

Oh, and see if you are an even BADDER Sriracha beast yourself! 

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.

Thirst for power sucks.

Indeed.

Once you trained your hardest and did your best in pursuing what you desire and you got it, you'd stop giving any sort of rat's testicles. Because, why bother? You're already so powerful! Why would you have to start to care about something or someone else? Might as well toy with people's trust over you and do whatever you want with it, 'cause they won't care now do they? Of course not. They'd just ignore you so you can do your own thing without any intrusions. Don't waste that precious gift. Seize it!

P/S: This might sound like a serious-toned short note, but this post is actually inspired by my currently favourite manga called Onepunch Man who, well... kicks monsters' ass with just one punch (or hit... or a flick of a finger... whatever!). A very straight to the point manga, if you ask me. And it gives very brief, yet profound insights on life in such short notice. Give it a go!

There are two versions; the badly-drawn original version and the ass-kicking redrawn version. Click either of these to read it.

Questions.

Who the EFF are you?
Who is actually this Muhammad Ikhwan bin Radzali fellow?
Why is he actually here?
What does he actually do?
What does he actually like?
What does he actually like to do?
Does he even do stuff?
Does he move so often?

What is his calling in life?
Is he a big part of the society?
Does the society see him?
Does the society wants him?
Does the society wants to see him?
Does he even care about the society?
What did he do to the society?
What did the society did to him?
Does it have any effect at all?
Did it sting him?
It didn't?
Why the EFF not?

Don't ask me.
Allah made me.
He has all the answers.
I can only guess... and just play along with whatever He planned for me.
He already laid down everything for me.
I just have to be smart enough to look for it.

When will that time comes for me to be smart enough to realise all of these things, eh? I wouldn't know.

"This song ain't about no booty; it's about transistors. You dig?!"

Hey you, hey you
Devil's little sister
Listening to your
Twisted transistor

Hold it between your legs
Turn it up, turn it up
The wind is coming through
Can't get enough

A lonely life
Where no one understands you
But don't give up
Because the music do

Music do, music do
Music do, music do
Music do, music do

Because the music do
And then it's reaching
Inside you
Forever preaching

Fuck you too!
Your scream's a whisper
Hang on you
Twisted transistor

Hey you, hey you
Finally you get it
The world ain't fair
Eat you if you let it

And as your tears fall on
Your breasts, your dress
Vibrations coming through
You're in a mess

A lonely life
Where no one understands you
But don't give up
Because the music do

Music do, music do
Music do, music do
Music do, music do

Because the music do
And then it's reaching
Inside you
Forever preaching

Fuck you too!
Your scream's a whisper
Hang on you
Twisted transistor

Music do, music do
Music do, music do
Music do, music do
Music do, music do

Hey you, hey you
This won't hurt a bit
This won't hurt a bit, this won't hurt

Says who, says who
Anesthetize this bitch
Anesthetize this bitch, anesthetize

Just let me be
Between you and me, don't fit

Music do
And then it's reaching
Inside you
Forever preaching

Fuck you too!
Your scream's a whisper
Hang on you
Twisted transistor

Microblogging #3: On respecting intellectual properties (particularly creative works).

I haven't done this in a while, and the title's pretty self-explanatory. So read on, folks. Read on. These comes from my Twitter account, FYI. And I'm not gonna do a long ass explanation on these; it's all there. From bottom to top, if you may.

Anyway, this is a response for a comment I get on my Pecah review. I know it's just ONE comment, but that kinda hurts to blatantly say that, y'know. These are just my two cents. Maybe I wasn't being very clear when I made that review.

Because f**k you, that's why.

Was an honest man
Asked me for the phone
Tried to take control

Oh, I don't see it that way
I don't see it that way

Oh, we shared some ideas
All obsessed with fame
Says we're all the same

Oh, I don't see it that way
I don't see it that way

Raised in Carolina
"I'm not like that"
Trying to remind her
When we go back

I missed the last bus, I'll take the next train
I try but you see, it's hard to explain
I say the right things, but act the wrong way
I like it right here, but I cannot stay
I watch the TV; forget what I'm told
Well, I am too young, and they are too old
The joke is on you, this place is a zoo
"You're right it's true"

Says he can't decide
I shake my head to say
Everything's just great

Oh, I just can't remember
I just can't remember

Raised in Carolina, she says:
" I'm not like that"
Trying to remind her
When we go back

I say the right things but act the wrong way
I like it right here but I cannot stay
I watch the TV; forget what I'm told
Well, I am too young, and they are too old
Oh, man, can't you see I'm nervous, so please
Pretend to be nice, so I can be mean
I miss the last bus, we take the next train
I try but you see, it's hard to explain

F**k you, Swifty. You ain't 22.

You just made it sound like being 22 is all 'cool,' 'hip,' and 'fun.' But trust me; she's lying. It's not easy when you're an introvert with an abnormal self-esteem. And yet, you blew it and make a new chart-topping song out of it almost each and every time you break up with some gayfag-looking guy. Stop representing everyone of this age, dork. Jet!   P/S: Happy birthday, dear me! And I hate this song, so I can do whatever with it; that includes putting this up in my blog and rip on her idea of making a song. Toodles! Have another decent... great... ah, screw it... unpredictable life, aite?

Comfort zone is a load of crap.

Even though I consider myself to be a lazy ass bum, truth to be told, I can never superglue my ass wherever it is facing. That's because, well, we must come to the realization that mother earth is an unpredictable fella; it can be your best friend, or it can hit you where it hurts... something like along the lines of losing your home to a hurricane or when you took a bullet to the knee when going on a war or when going on a deer hunt (you get the point).

I mean, look at some of the superstars who defined pop culture like say... Britney Spears, or Christina Aguilera, or Usher, or Enrique Iglesias, or even J.Lo... or many more pop musicians who used to have distinct sounds that sets them apart from each other before the sudden and out-of-whack rise of dance music to the mainstream. They had to give in to the crappiness of the world of generic, sexed up, electronic sounding Top 40 pop songs in order to still be remembered by the masses as the people who were being constantly referred to should he or she is running out of original witty materials to utilize when it comes to producing creative content or even for use in a plain old casual conversations with friends and families in order to make life worth living. It's the risk they willing to take to keep on being popular, even if it is for all the wrong and completely irrelevant reasons. They had to do it. In their head, they are thinking that they had to give up all of the sounds they have established all these while even though people would still love it due to possibly the pressure being applied by record companies to completely revamp who they originally were; sound wise and even more radical, personality wise.

With that said, we were never the ones who stayed in one place. If you look back in history, the people of earlier civilization never did stay in one place; they had to keep going out of their comfort zone so that they can have an even better way of life at a better place with better shelter and sources of food and water. Heck, let's not forget about the hijrah of Muhammad S.A.W. and his companions; even though they grow up there for so long, but after learning that they cannot stay there forever for their lives would be at stake, they had to seek refuge to other places in order to keep on the burning spirit of spreading the Islam love.

In a nutshell, read the damn title of this entry again to conclude this piece of mind. Peace out.

The chill pill.

We have all been there, don't we? We started off to be an aspiring superhero when we were so very young, but we ended up being an established fashion designer instead. Once we are where we at, sometimes wish that it will be swell if we turn back time and stay on the right track. But if we stay at the past too long, our future might suck so damn badly... 'cause y'know, we won't see any kind of rainbow and sunshine if we stay under a comfy rock, right?

Being in love with coughing up ideas (be it technical or abstract/creative ones) and writing it down on my own terms, I found out that this current path I'm in don't really fit me. I can't possibly see myself on the field, day and night, overseeing people's work, help them out doing grueling tasks, and keeping time codes for a film production in the far future. I can only goof around and keep the spirits of the crew members with my antics. I'm good at that. If I still linger around in the field for too long, I'll be holding them and myself down. It's best that they only inspire me to be good at what I do best; a 'cheerleader' and 'a man of ideas'.

On one side though, it's good to be a film student, knowing that you'll meet different kinds of characters that'll eventually contribute to better ideas and concepts to be incorporated into other forms of media, or better yet... to shape a better me. 

So, hang in there, dear self. This is all one big ass chill pill. It might take some time to swallow, but it'll all be worth it for the long run. :) 

Rot to dust.

See, the thing is, whatever we see and touch in front of us, shall rot sooner or later. Take a good care of it, caress it, show that you care about it... before it rots. They can't possibly come to life and be there to someone who doesn't give a crap about them. Or if they do, they'll just become zombie, which also means they'll eat your brains alive.

P/S: Holy ballsacks. I got rusty with blogging already. All I did lately was reviewing stuff and not something about a slice of life such as this. I feel bad for myself. But then again... it's my life and I can do whatever I want with it, no? I'm not expecting for more follow ups, but I hope I can say more about things that matter to me. Fuck Facebook and Twitter, man! Haha!

Hello.

Wow. What happened? Life happened... as well as life lags. Well, mostly the lags.

You are douche bags, dear brain and social media.

Hi. An epiphany just struck me (well, not REALLY an epiphany per se, I just REALLY wanna write something here). So, there's these things called Facebook and Twitter (and many other equally unsuccessful ripoffs of the mentioned social media giants), right? At first, I think it's kinda cool and all for these social media sites to encourage people to not be afraid on spurting whatever it is than runs through their train of thoughts. That said, it is also a bad thing to do.

You may not know this, but our brain can be a big ass douche bag sometimes. Why do you think in actions films the bad guys are always depicted as being super-intelligent and are always given the trait of stylishness? Because it's what they THINK is the right thing to do; they don't FEEL any of that could have serious repercussions. While the good guys? They don't really THINK if any of their dangerous acts of valour might backfire him to the point that he could endanger his own life, but in his heart, he FEELS that it is the only and right thing to do in order to protect his loved ones... which in turn makes him THINK of the best ways possible to save himself, his beloved, and many others who needs to be saved. What happens then? The good guy always wins and the bad guys, despite their elaborate plans to execute bad deeds which are always full-proof in their eyes, are backfired big time in the end. Did any of these things ever occured to you when you watch these films, other than using it as mere escapism? 

Interesting enough, when you watch films that features highly cool and impossible feats that the hero performs, coupled with mesmerising visual effects and tough guy talk, or even a film in a fantasy setting where none of that will never ever exist or happen in the real world, you'll probably got sucked into these films so immensely, that you FORGOT you are actually in the real world, just so that you can FEEL indestructable and able to pull of crazy stunts that you can never do in real life. See how related these things are?

Just make sure both your brain and your heart are always on the same page. Just make sure that both of these organs debate against each other inside of you before you go all apeshit in that virtual, unrealistic world we call the Internet; or in this context, the so-called social media. The world is a vast place, despite the fact that the Internet made it smaller. Which also means that freaks can easily pull off some crazy things to you personally, or just mess with everyone on one fell swoop by being that douche bag who likes to posts fabricated or totally made up facts that isn't even true in the first place, or that douche bag who always argue or provoke a heated thread of conversations just to feed his own sick pleasure of watching the society falls apart just because of some pettily stupid comments or remarks, or that douche bag who just think that it's fine to let go of his pathetically lame alter ego trapped inside for good reasons who goes around embarassing himself instead.

P/S: Social media is also responsible for me to get confused where should I channel my inner artistry without worrying about its exclusivity. Should I just post on my personal blog, or on a team blog I administer, or just post it up on the social media, or put it up in printed form? Fuck you for confusing me, Internet.

Of a virgin.

Once upon a time, there was a boy. A boy with the purest of heart and mind; undamaged, all cuddly, and still a virgin. Because of his pureness, once he is out from the safest bunker in existence, he cried. Why? Because he's afraid... of breaking promises. Promises he made with Him; a promise that says "I shall forever and always be good as long as I can hold on to this world, and shall always make my environment a better place." The guardians of the bunker, then told this boy "It's gonna be alright. With us on your side, you're going to have a great time here. Stop those tears, please?" 

On the first few moments, the boy didn't buy any of the guardians' guarantee. As a result, the guardians must always please this new guest in order to gain his trust. Should he's famished, he gets his grub. Should he's unkempt, he's all gussied up. Should he want to drop a deuce, that's the worst part. Gradually, the boy stopped crying. Why? A bond was built between them. The guardians were then able to tell him to stop crying. They told him all that he needs to know to survive in his next stage of life. Little by little, the boy adapted... to what was taught by the guardians directly and indirectly courtesy of their acquaintances and mother nature. One thing though; those wealth of wisdom was only a foundation. And everyone knows that something must be built on top of a foundation; for every foundation is a start of great things to come... or worst scenarios to bear with. 

Humans, although considered to be His best work, can also be His worst. A newborn, naive human are prone... to the dangers of the new world; and this boy's challenges are no different. He thought with only fundamentals, he is able to make it through. He was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Humans can be taught, but they are uncontrollable. Because of the humankind's harsh nature, this had left the boy hanging, making him forget his promises. What should he do, even though he knew what he should do? It's a jungle out there. Should he be eaten? Or should he hide? Or should he be one of them.  

Humans. This is what they always be. Always horny when they shouldn't be.

A new day.

Just wanna start things of in yet another year. Yeah, that's it. :)

Blank.

I never abandoned you, never been selfish and shit like that. I'm just... simply speechless. Or rather... being OVERLY careful and analytical about what I'm about to say to you or what would happen after I said that shit.

Everyone has problems.

P/S: Or this is just a fancier way of saying I miss this blog so damn mucho! >.<

To all women out there / future soulmate... #6

Source: deviantART

I hope you never strayed too far away from my surroundings, or even from my sight should you are in front of me all these times. I hope to get to know you, whoever you might be. Please?

P/S: "Ultra-gay" as it may seem, but who doesn't want a soul mate? Or another half? Right? Okay... maybe the fucking rain or someone indirectly influenced me to put this up. I'm still human, y'know.

That darn writer's block... again.

Writers think, right? I mean, shit don't just pop out in a readable text form like that out of nowhere. If that's not the case, all these while, what we did time and time again should probably look like this...

adfdsf njflndsajsanjdfsadlnacdsclainadljcnlddvsjfajslfsdljvns.nfavurivljsdnv.SUVDSVVEieulvcjkvvukv

In order to hit the keys and make that thought readable, we have to think first before we type. But I can't do any original writings as of late. I mean like... an actual writing. Not some fucking status updates on Twitter or Facebook here, man. It's that time again where I miss to have a myriad of topics to talk about in this pseudo-neglected think tank.

Or maybe I just care too much about what people think of me? Or maybe I'm just not that confident about myself?

What the hell is this shit, anyway? This is old news I keep on repeating time and time again! It's MY fucking tank! Why the fuck should I care what PEOPLE thinks?!

I hope this fucking destroys that darn writer's block... even for just a little bit.