Weird is not spelt the right way.

I been worrying too much about what people say and what people think, but the malay male put everything into perspective. I can’t find the line coz he rambles, but ya, nothing really matters. I am just a speck in the universe and none of this fucking drama matters. I can either trudge along with a knot in my stomach or float along laughing my ass off. But sometimes I laugh at people now. I used to be much kinder, but now I’m a lot funnier and… but am I happier? In some ways, I am. I don’t tell those jokes with malice, it’s just funny, I just don’t care. I care less, that’s why I feel so free.

But I admit, I do feel more mean. I still do the same nice things I used to, but the mean creeps in, even though the anger has subsided. I have more enemies and less friends, which doesn’t seem like a plus. I have so much less tolerance for drama and weakness, which gives me less tolerance for people.

Guilt is the worst invention. It’s useless.

It’s a mad world. Swine flu slips between HIV and poverty, it’s a wonder that so many of us are alive. I heard someone lost a child, he was alive for 2 hours. A friendship can last half your life and end in two minutes. There really is nothing one can count on.

morantical = so romantic it’s moronic (my sister made this one)

I have been neglectful of you, dear blog.

Once upon a time, I was a filmmaker. I did everything there was to do in film; direct, edit, write, locations, casting… I fell in love with film when I first found myself on set. I was 18 and thrilled by the organised chaos. I loved shoot but didn’t love films like my peers at film school did. I won some awards, but never thought my films were that great. Bleary eyed and 28, I found myself in Malaysian TV. Not a pretty place. I said one night, to myself, “I’m going to find a new job that I like.” within a couple of weeks, I got an offer from advertising.

So last week, I took a small part in a TV drama. It was a really interesting experience; I broke my routine, met some new people, learnt some stuff and enjoyed it when I found myself acting quite well. By the end of the three days on set, I left happy and very decided that I don’t want to be in film anymore.

Hooray! It’s great to decide.

I prefer corporate etiquette. I enjoy strategising.

But I’m not strategising at my current job. Hmmmmm. I do at my night job, and it’s so much fun. I’m working on rectifying this. A new career change is in order and there is no shortage of opportunities.

(WORD WRESTLE, Pseudonim, kuala lumpur)

Don’t you love that Thursday? It’s bursting with calm and ease. Then there’s Friday, who’s excited and in third gear. Then Sun gets Sat on. They roll around in the grass covered in wine.Then Monday crashes into you like a giant truck and all you can do is observe the wreckage, till Tuesday tucks you into bed and Wednesday is kind enough to gently wake you up, just in time for Thursday.

(WORD WRESTLE, Pseudonim, kuala lumpur)

A long-lost friend shouted over loud music and very good vodka, “Would you like a pill?!”

“No thanks. I’m good.”

“What happened to you??”

Hmmmm…. What happened to me? I got older, I got burnt. I saw a few people crash and lose their marbles from taking lotsa drugs and I got really scared. Most of all, I realised that all that intensified feeling while you’re on e, although fun, doesn’t make real relationships, and in essence, isn’t real.

If I had to pick one, it would be the fear of losing my mind.

“Where you been clubbing lately?” he continues.

“Errrrrr, I don’t really go out much. I take day trips with good friends. I go to palate… Ummm, what else do I do? I read… and write… I live a really calm life now.” He tilted his head and looked at me like I had blue fur on my face.

The whole encounter left a bad taste in my mouth. They are people cheeckbones and I used to hang out with. Seeing them just reminded me of that life I had with him. The mad sex, drugs and rock&roll life.

I drove around the corner to Palate. Among good friends I concluded: I’m not sorry. My life may seem boring by many standards and I really am not sorry!

(WORD WRESTLE, Pseudonim, kuala lumpur)

Facebook is like a kampung. Everyone knows everything. Sometimes I can’t stand it and I want to delete my existence from it and not have any association with it. Between the intimate details of relationships, the wall posts (that should be private) and pictures I really don’t want to be tagged in…. But at the same time, I love it. I love being connected to everyone and knowing what’s happening with all my friends.

So like in any kampung, word spreads. Collective sentiments become very clear. I don’t know about you, but a lot of things in the way this country is run is making me angry. I feel helpless and I feel fearful. The only thing I know how to do is to use the devices on this kampung to let people know, “I think this is unacceptable!”

I don’t want to demonise anyone or call people names. I just want to hear a collective voice that indicates we care. I care that a 22-year-old gets tortured to death by police. We care that people we voted for are being ousted from the privacy of their sleep.

So if you feel something, post it, blog it, twitter it, announce it on your status.

(WORD WRESTLE, Pseudonim, kuala lumpur)

Hello, I’m nervous and I’m in advertising

In advertising, and when we chose models, we choose good looking men, something to aspire to. But if you look at porn, there seems to be something wrong with your aspirations la guys. You want a monster penis and a muka hantam bas ah? Really?

How many of you want to be Dr. Chua? He should retire from politics and start his own porn empire, starring Dr. Chua. Before the video, no one even knew who he was, now he’s the most famous politician in Malaysia. He already has a huge audience, why not? There is senior citizen porn in Japan, why not in Malaysia?

But Malaysians have some strange fetishes. We do. Saw or not, the tudung girls. Pakai tudung and the look of wonder on their face “Konek!” interspersed with that shy giggle. Of course la malu, you having sex, on a picnic table, in public, in broad daylight! gila ke apa?

But it’s not easy for women in KL. I’ve been single for a while. The only time a guy has come up to me in the past 7 months… He kind of stood next to me for a while, and looked, smiling, he kinda gurgled some bits of words. First of all he was a kid, he must have been 20 or something. Maybe this lack of years is what made him miss the fact that we were at Frangi and it was gay night. “Wow, and I’m wearing a dress. Do I look like an Aqua?”

But seriously there’s one fundamental problem with men. They can’t read minds. Girl goes, “What you doing tonight?” “Going for a drink at Changkat.” Silence. ok. Next day, “Where were you? Why didn’t you come to changkat?” Does I’m going for a drink, sound like an invitation to you? Men are not from Mars, they’re from Planet Bodoh.

This is where I run out of material. I’ll think about it.

(WORD WRESTLE, Pseudonim, kuala lumpur)

I’m getting bitter and restless. This house, with its religious zeal and right-wing politics, is making me feel like a wild animal trying to be a well behaved person. My inability to provide myself with a home, is disturbing and shameful.

The bitterness from my divorce, no from my marriage hasn’t left me yet. I look at pregnant women and feel robbed. Everything brings cheekbones and our life to mind. They say in meditation you should focus on the space in between thoughts. For me, the space in between thoughts are scenes from that life, smells, tastes, people. That life, so different from this one, yet a part of it somehow. Just one cycle of the many I will experience.

(WORD WRESTLE, Pseudonim, kuala lumpur)