301108 | Tangerind

What comes across the land of mud with massive dampness of stupidity? I question.

Another failure towards what governs us and take controls on how every sheep lives in this jungle of hot concrete. Why am i whining and why am i babbling?

I've been bitter these recent months. I cant relate and i cant seem to hate.

271108 | Drinking and Driving Is So Much Fun

Never talk about how drunk people can be if u have never ever tasted wine before.
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I just read something in this site call Malaysiakini. Sometimes people can be that shallow in order to behold the power of moral authorization, which questions back on who are they to determine who can or cannot experience the voluptuous bevarage containing alcohol.

Read this : Alcohol ban: Trouble brewing in Pakatan

Just remember on how Christ turned water in to wine and also do remember the river of the so called 'Arak' promised in heaven.

251108 | I and I

I am I.
I and I.
I am You.
You are I.
U and I.

I am I
therefore You are You.
I am You
therefore You are I.

This sickness is I,
This Sanity is I,
This mind is I,
This neuron cell is I,
This blood vessels is I,
This cock is I,
This scrotum is I,
This pubic hair is I,
This tattooed thighs is I,
This bleeding nose is I,
This Logitech keyboard is I,
This LG monitor is I,
This Casio wrist watch is I,
This bundle stripe shirt is I,
This black Dockers slacks is I,
This 8 holes Doc Martens cherry boots is I,
This homogenous tiles is I,
This cement rendered wall is I,
This asbestos ceilings is I,
This sandblasted glass door is I,
This black asphalt is I,
This concrete jungle is I,
This air is I,
This dust particles is I,
This sun is I,
This sky is I,
This space is I,
This Jupiter is I,
This comet Haley is I,

I is everything and
Everything is nothing,
I is nothing,
I exist to complete everything and
become nothing,

221108 | Rhetorica

I miss shoplifting booze at the local seven eleven
because now i can afford to buy crates of beer and stout;

I miss staying all night long laughing and talking to the same guys till morning comes,
because now we live in separate places;

I miss sleeping and missing classes during the day just let things go by,
because now i have to be at the office everyday to earn money;

I miss being a loser and not having somebody to love,
because now i have a girlfriend who loves me too much;

I miss being yelled at by my lecturer for wearing torn jeans with a scruffy look,
because now i have to wear a tidy shirt and sometimes a tie doing presentations at clients;

I miss walking for miles whenever i got not enough money for the bus fair,
because now i drive a second hand car which runs pretty good;

I miss drinking cheap compound liquor with plain water in the park in front of our flat,
because now we open bottles of liquor by the name of Jack Daniels in a club or discotheque,

I miss writting songs and playing guitar in our small room stuffed with tar and nicotine,
because now i play guitar alone in my own room with a good ventilation;

I miss setting up hair together from the tall mohawk to the durian spikes before going to gigs,
because now my friend the hairstylist has joined the police force,

I miss all the snores and whacky sleeping styles while trying to squeeze up on a mattress just to sleep,
because now i sleep on my own bed with a thick mattress and extra pillows,

I miss sharing a meal which was enough for 2 or 3 persons,
because now i eat the whole meal by myself;

I miss sleeping whenever my stomach growls starving,
because now when i 'm hungry i just grab anything from my food cabinet,

I miss having guest from everywhere hanging in our house, the Bangledesh waiter, Caucassian visitors,Bum friends and the bored girls next block,
because now my landlady puts a limit for guest who comes;

I miss I miss I miss
And I dont miss;

201108 | Free Love - Feed Us With Your Love - CD

Disappointing. Just sip my cup of joe, leaning on my chair. Bought this Free Love CD for RM20 at their album launch last two weeks. This morning it turned down my expectation towards this band who were doing pretty good before. Jay, tell me what happened. I know you've been going through a tough time before this, but that does'nt give Free Love a reason to make such lame songs. I really do like your earlier releases, 'Indie Rock Darling' and so, which really does have that sincere poppish rawness of rock n roll. What happened to the influences of Sebadoh, J. Mascis and Dinosaur Jr? I just hope that other bands at Body Surf like Muck and Harmacy would'nt fall for the typical Kuala Lumpur kind of indie rock, full of blind glamourish mono blend. Well wish you guys the best in your next release.
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While i was at the album launch, this band really caught my attention. I really thought they were some local KL band wearing all black outfits but they turned out to be a band from Jakarta, Indonesia. Songs and performance was really good. They're called Denial and i cant deny they're songs are really nice with how the set up their sound. I totally love the guitar harmonies which goes well with the dried damp guitar sound. Do check them out and i hope that they come here again as for i did'nt purchase any of their stuffs that day.

201108 | Sillhoute ii

I went deep inside in to my muladhara, on the base where i sat. On the floor, within these four walls absorbing all the contaminated particles of dust. I could'nt sleep and it has been 2 days. Disturbed by my ungoverned emotions, i need to stabilize it on this base of muladhara.

LJY's smiles. LJY's eyes which deeply stared. LJY's laughs. LJY's brilliant soul. Affected my soul. Beautiful chakra.

Svadisthana has rise from my muladhara. Really needed to come clear to reality. My senses are strong which is quite disturbing right now. Chemistry bond so strong but i need to refuse. I've been discarded, deleted and remove. I need to accept that situation has objected the the unifying of souls. LJY, a sillhouete today fading in this momment of mindly chaos. I'll come back later LJY, when the world turns much more better, the wind blows from another direction and when i am free to just hold you wherever.

171108 | Mourning

Drunk in the morning. Guiness for breakfast. So long revolution and thanks for all the vague conclussion.

141108 | Sillhouete i

I am scarcely pissed. I was waiting for my usual sheep ride to work this morning. I went in line, i was patience enough but time was running short. So i tried to squeeze in the first box that arrived. The door could not close cause my feet were slightly out of the border. It slammed a couple of times, still the 'ding-dong' sound assured it not to close. There was actually some more space in the box for one person but all these selfish sheeps were not giving way for me to squeeze. I gave up and did'nt go to work today. I'm not going to be a sheep today. I walked back home and plugged my ears with the abstracts of Sonic Youth.

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I lay my head on my cushy pillow to this mystical flashback. A time where i was'nt in face with reality. Floating high on the excitement of emotions. I still remember it crystal clear in the dark, where i knew and met a soul. A soul which i can relate. Talk bout anything for hours, looking straight in each others eyes, with no worries. Shared the same piece of mind over cans of dark beer. Completely motionless. Comfortable. We were in contact for a month which contained 365 days. That was end of it. I was in the dark confused with a small bright light. The light dissapered and I just can glimpse back to that mystical timezone nowadays. No explanation. No remorse. No nothing when nothing was everything. All i can see now is only mere semblance of a LJY sillhouete. I need to snore back.

131108 | Sweet Sweat

Quite a hectic morning. My stomach growled after i fed my ears with the whole album, 'Enemy of The Sun' by Neurosis.

On my ride to the office, i sat next to this big Persian guy. He was not calm, sweating in this air-conditioned box. Too much American movies, i gave him the terrorist nickname, Osama. I assume there's a C4 bomb in his sling bag and he's signaling something to his mate on the other end of this box when suddenly he nodded twice. I got off at my stop.

He was no terrorist. It was just the armpit odour which rose the sense of paranoia and discrimination in me. I continued my walk and changed to a heavier playlist on my ipod. It starts out with Machine Head's 'I'm Your God Now' continues into Godflesh's 'Time, Death and Wastefulness'. An industrial ambience to light up my will to work.

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I first watched a really good live local Industrial metal band in 1995. The band was called Infectious Maggots lead by this guy name Fathul(also with this indie band Spiral Kinetic Circus). They were really good for a local band and sounded more sincere than wannabe bands like Love Me Butch. I did watch Love Me Butch twice, once in Seremban and the other was at a recent KAMI gig. They were really lame both of the time. They were really good musicians, especially the guitarist But their songs were way too lame. It did not had any substance and the charismatic soul in their songs. For me its like they were trying hard to be like some other band. I remember how they were trying hard to imitate Chino's Deftones and then later Meshuggah. Well at least they tried way better than this band called Estranged or Pop Shuvit. herm.

121108 | Sweetness Dough

It has been the third day. I'm still stuck to start on this project assignment my boss gave me. A bath just now refreshes the body but my mind still circles the dark for a light bulb. I felt like lying on the mattress while positioning the 3’rd chakra. My ass is just too lazy tonight to stretch. As I sip my can of caffeine, something on the news amused me.

The price of Roti canai and The Tarik going down 10 cents? Ha ha

Two pieces Roti Canai (a favorite Malaysian Mamak pastry) equals the calories of a plate of Nasi Lemak. When I was a kid, it cost 40 cents a piece and today they sell it for RM 1. 20.
Roti Canai once, was the one main daily meal, most of the days for us, the residents on the luxurious 4th floor flat house. It was’nt really a house, its more to a hang out. There were only six of us who paid for the rent but the amount of people who occupied this space sometimes exceeded to 20 people per night. It’s amazing how everybody squeezed in to inhale the extra burns of tar and nicotine. The doors were always opened and everybody slept everywhere in the house. Some of us were studying in a college nearby, some were working class citizens and there were a couple of guys who believed that working is a capitalist culture in producing slaves. All of us were not inheritance to any rich daddy and mommy. We all did what we could do, just to enjoy our lives while staying and existing every today and tomorrow.
Roti Canai was one of our main source for carbohydrate and sometimes it was the only meal we ate in a day. We would collect money, walk to the nearest mamak restaurant and get 10 pieces of the exquisite Roti Canai with extra Dahl gravy to share. Most of us would sip the dahl gravy till the last drop. In times I was really broke, I would just hibernate and sleep just to ignore my humming stomach waiting for a hero housemate to successfully bring back food or roti canai.

Some of the days, we would land our butts straight to the same table at this particular mamak restaurant, after classes or work in the evening. Whining about the day every each of us went through while enjoying the first feed of the day. We would bargain sometimes for the price to pay if we didn’t have the exact amount of money. At certain times, I would use this tactic I learnt by observing this she-male who was a regular at this mamak restaurant. She would go out to the public phone near the cashier, put in a couple of coins, scarcely called and talk to somebody for a couple of minutes, then just walk right out of the restaurant. I did the same thing most of the time I didn’t have enough money.

My close friend, A.S and I, who were broken students would be the only people who dare to act like hyenas. If we didn’t eat for days we would just hang out at this mamak restaurant and order plain water or tea, watching whatever aired on the big screen television. We never bothered about soccer. We craved for the lions share. Our eyes were cautiously on the other customer’s table in the restaurant. Once these customers got up to leave, we dash to grab what they left on the table. If we were lucky that day, we would get something else than roti canai. Half of a murtabak ayam, Roti Na’an or maybe a drumstick of a tandoori chicken. It does sound pathethic, but when you have full classes in a week where you cant have a part time job, you don’t get allowance from your single parent and your to ashame to ask again and again from your other friends, you just cant choose to starve another day. Survival becomes your main intention.

Once during the Merdeka eve, we didn’t know where to go cause we didn’t have any money. So I remember 9 of us sitting at the mamak restaurant, ordered 3 glasses of Teh-O (tea without milk) and plain water for the rest. Our fat friend and I didn’t ate for 2 days and most of the rest had’nt ate anything that day. My fat friend here couldn’t stand to starve for another day. He negotiated with one of the waiters. The waiters thought that he was joking, so he went straight to the kitchen, picked up an apron and went to the washing basin to wash dishes. The cashier who was the head of the workers at the restaurant, stopped him to continue washing the dishes. So the cashier then gave us 18 pieces of roti canai, leftovers from the night shift.
Today, Roti Canai’s price has dropped 10 cents. That sure is a laugh cause the price raised more than 40 cents five years before.

I have'nt had a roti canai for months. It's not because of the price but because part of me has enough dough, margerine and oil of Roti Canai.Herm. Maybe tomorrow.

111108 | Solid Splat

I could'nt sleep well last night. My ears detected some frequency buzz. My brain neurons translated it to splattered images. Jean Baptise Grenouille, (in Patrick Suskind's Perfume) was gifted in sniffing details of the smallest odour surrounding. I figured that i was gifted too, but more on the hearing senses. Well, i'm not gifted but i do share the abomination personage like Grenouille. Haha.

Every time i have a tune or melody in my head, it directs me to visuals of people i know, situations i've met or places i've been. It does sound a bit dodgy but seriously i'm facing it as a problem where sometimes i dont want to remember people. Every person who i know in Kuala Lumpur has a melody tag to them. Sometimes i create my own tune for them, sometimes its just songs from any singer or band.

I took the guitar on to the bed with me. After the third strum, i abandoned it on the floor. Its not was not my own tune this time. It was Nick Cave consequently moving in to a Bob Dylan melody. And then, my mind projected this person i knew. Sigh.

I need to sleep over it.

Sigh

" I ain't lookin' to compete with you, Beat or cheat or mistreat you, Simplify you, classify you, Deny, defy or crucify you, All I really want to do, Is, baby, be friends with you. "
All I Really Want To Do by Bob Dylan

081108 | 97-Shiki - SEA Tour - Kuala Lumpur

It took me almost 15 minutes to cross the bloody road. Cars just kept on moving fast both ways. I never liked Ampang due to this traffic manner.

The 'doorguy' politely ask me to leave my Guiness before entering the hall. Well,he was polite so i did left the 2/3 full can outside. As i entered this so called 'Noisy Warehouse', i straightly felt the heat with a mixture of vaporized sweat from the crowd. There was this acoustic all-girl band, Pips(if i'm not mistaken) on stage with feministical banners around them. The crowd cheered. Wait, mistake.The 'guys' cheered.

The performance was quite enthusiast but they really did'nt know how to balance up the sound. So all the buzzes from the amps killed parts of their performance. The songs were
good but the sound just ruined it.herm.

The heat forced me out for a fag. Finished up my drink and went back inside.

Another all girl band except for the drummer. I did'nt capture the name of the band. Loud. I asked the dude beside me. Bottle Cup. His whisper was'nt clear enough to form a correct pronunciation. Great showmanship, the singer and the guitarist was trying to move around the small stage. I started liking them when they did a Joan Jett cover but then again, too much cover songs.

97-Shiki, the next band (i don't know whats with the name). American post-punk. The bassist dude was huge. They did a really great firing set. They had bits of Fugazi and Nomeansno, with lots of rhythmic attacking drums and bassline together with brilliant shrieking guitar play. Love it. I could'nt see them clear enough as i was standing far back but the live performance really did made my heart beat to it. They also did a brilliant cover of the infamous 'Oppression' originally by the Malaysian's infamous and scandalous Carburetor Dung. Nice.

The next band was this metallic girl band, Oditty. The heat distracted my concentration.
I was damn wet with the stench of sweat, so i decided to go home.

Left the venue and continued drinking somewhere else.

081108 | Open inverted comma

Write. Write a blog. Type in to a blog.

Why do I bother to start this blog? I question myself this particular second.

A contradicting question as for I had typed in the first few sentences already. By that, it has ended the negation in myself to document my own thoughts in to a sort of personal documentation. Never in my life have I written about what has been going across my mind. I’ve always felt redundant of the idea to write such documentation like a diary, journal, log etc. Leave the past disappear, live fully in the present. Personally I never ever did write anything on how I would view things before, how did I felt before or maybe how would I analyze any happenings around my life. I have always kept everything within myself.

As a kid before, I would prefer to draw or sketch unrelated images to what’s in mind. Ugly is how I would define these sketches I did. Horrid lines forming bits and pieces on paper.

In school I discovered preferable music that talked to me. Read couple of books and fanzines then. Fascinated in a way, how fantastic writers would compile such thoughts in to a piece of work. Sincere with the sense of by being certain with whatever came in to their minds. Filth illustrated in details of exquisiteness. Mondo-bizarre. I attempted to do my own fanzine. Cut and pasted some pictures, some preferred lyrics of songs and posted some interviews with some inspiring bands I’ve been in contact before. Photocopied 8 copies of my compiled zine, sold 4 pieces, gave 2 pieces to my close friends and kept the rest with me. I wasn’t confident in letting people to read it. There was nothing purely spilled from my own mind. It ended while I was on the second issue.

As I grew older, I was introduced to the six string music instrument. I started to learn on how to make use of it. I wasn’t that good but I did do some songs. I never really placed in any exact words to what I really felt or thought in those own songs of mine. Always did divert it so I wouldn’t be hooked up to it whenever I tried to play or sing it. Statements in vagueness. Started my own band. Started another band. Then joined another band.
For about 20 years, I’ve never dared myself to write on what I really wanted to write. There were times where I would hold a pen or place my fingers scarcely above the computer keyboard. I would just stare on that blank white. Then leave it as a blank white. My mind would go blank white too. My spirits then turned off in a sudden.

Why this blog? Seems I typed out more than a couple of sentences now.
This year has been quite a year, the 8th year after millennium. A soul reassured me 2 months ago, spill it out. I’ve been giving it a thought. Well, maybe its time I filled in these blanks.

Gravity Floats

Stuck on this chair of mine. My spine aches me to sleep but my eyes wanders on the screen.