Friday, August 21, 2009

Our future is in our hands...

...but what are we going to do about it?

For me it starts with translating this into English so that more people can be better informed about the situation. Thank goodness there are people who take integrity seriously in this country. Some people still vehemently deny that they've done nothing wrong even though they blatantly have.

Reminds me of people I know. If you think I'm talking about you, then you're probably bearing a guilty conscience whereby you know you've offended me but at best refuse to do anything about it and at worst, justify it with whims and fancies which mean toss to me. I don't need people like you. Go away.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Liberating Liberia

I don't even know what to make out of this.

Liberian rape victim ostracized by her family

When God 'plays' God, we get Mount Everest, the Aurora, the Great Barrier Reef, the Grand Canyon and all that fill it.

When man presumes to play god, the difference is stark. The results, grotesque. Ugly. Evil.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Star wishes

I want

to spend

my lifetime

reading

fairytales

for a living


Fairytales like this one:

"These small and perishable bodies we now have were given to us as ponies are given to schoolboys. We must learn to manage: not that we may some day be free of horses altogether but that some day we may ride bare-back, confident and rejoicing, those greater mounts, those winged, shining and world-shaking horses which perhaps even now expect us with impatience, pawing and snorting in the King's stables. Not that gallop would be of any value unless it were a gallop with the King; but how else - since He has retained His own charger - should we accompany Him?" ~ an excerpt from Miracles by CS Lewis ~

(indirectly introduced by Shibboleth; years of anti-plagiarism grounded into my head at College has caused me to feel easily guilty about making use of passages others have used before as if repeating it would take away the beauty of the words that struck so true a chord in the first place. Either that, or Sam will come after me with a large trout.)

Sunday, August 09, 2009

Holding my breath... again

The weekend has been action packed which started with losing my phone, dove into having to perform with the rest of the chambering students in front of the entire Firm, climaxed with horse riding on a beach in Feringhi and ended with waiting for the next working day.

Losing my phone made me damn pissed to use speech of such eloquence but resulted in one main thing; because I couldn't call my usual circle of friends when my mood swirled into familiar dark waters, I could only seclude myself from the crowds and depend on God. I spent many moments looking into the sea and talking to God this weekend. It wasn't exactly rest, but it was a start. Talking to God hasn't instantly solved my problems and in the work environment where problem solving is the ultimate achievement, speaking to God may seem at best a coffee break and at worst, a waste of time which breeds inefficiency. There is a want I cannot identify and cannot name and yet it's there and it frustrates not to be able to articulate what it is that I really want.

As I struggle to forgive, rebellion kicks out angrily damning everything and everyone around me I find myself getting angry at the tiniest, most insignificant thing, despising people who care for me and scorning people who don't. I have gotten to a stage in work where people no longer matter; results do; winning does; and I loathe it. I hate that people see time spent helping others as time which could have been used to help themselves and use that as an excuse not to help flailing comrades. I hate that lunch break appears as a bestowed benefit instead of a right to drop everything and pursue what I want for that brief hour. I hate that people push the blame round and round but scoop praise all for themselves. I hate that being part of a professional body seemingly means sacrificing your personal obligations in the name of being a professional. I'm waiting to be proved wrong because I feel that I might crack again very soon. The overwhelming tides of pent-up uncertainty is burdensome and is bearing heavy on the dam of my sanity. It numbs the mind and weighs the heart down. What I really need most and often is a good hug but damn it, apparently it is not 'Malaysian' to hug. I'm in the freakin wrong country!

I told a friend the other day that my working experience in the last 2 months has flushed out the worst in me to full view. He said that perhaps it was God's way of dealing with the crap inside (Okay he didn't say 'crap') and that perhaps my rough edges could only be dealt with when it was out in the open and not suppressed.

This weekend, I saw members of my Firm party the night away and the ones who seemed to enjoy themselves the most were the ones who to me, slogged the hardest at work, the ones who seem unappreciated, sidelined and overlooked; they were the real party people that night. For a brief moment, I saw their struggles and mine seemed pathetically petty next to theirs and yet, whilst I always feel the need to lick my wounds whilst trying to establish who I am, these veterans give a glimmer of light and a flicker of hope that there is still a soft glow of humanity embracing the grey carpets at work.

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Trivia about Me

Ten Top Trivia Tips about Debibo!

  1. White chocolate isn't technically chocolate, because it doesn't contain debibo!
  2. Forty percent of the world's almonds and twenty percent of the world's peanuts are used in the manufacture of debibo!
  3. Apples are covered with a thin layer of debibo.
  4. The debibo-fighting market in the Philippines is huge - several thousand debibo-fights take place there every day.
  5. Debibo was the first Tsar of Russia.
  6. Early thermometers were filled with debibo instead of mercury!
  7. According to the story, Pinocchio was made of debibo!
  8. The International Space Station weighs about 500 tons and is the same size as debibo.
  9. The first debibo was made in 1853, and had no pedals!
  10. The international dialling code for debibo is 672.
I am interested in - do tell me about

#2 is the reason why I'm nuts.

#4 is because debibos have got bad tempers.

#7 is the reason why Wooden-boy there got punished for lying

#1 is sheer genius