I'm getting so sick of my face I don't know how I'm going to live with it for the rest of my life.

When will you realise that it's just STUFF? I admit I'm becoming less and less of a sentimentalist recently, but really, hoarding useless shite like, um, the neighbours' old carpet that they wanted to throw for five, six years isn't really having a certain fondness for things, IT'S A BLOODY SICKNESS. And no, you won't use it in the future, or in the months or years to come. I can bet you those things will remain untouched even as the first of us gets married or well, I don't know, whatever the hell that might happen to us in the future. There are parts of the store room floor that I've not stepped on for eight years, plus two years, minus two months, maybe. I MEAN WHY DO YOU HAVE TO FIX EVERYTHING. NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS FIXING. NOT EVERYTHING IN LIFE IS YOUR BLOODY PROBLEM. WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LET THINGS BE. WHY CAN'T YOU SEEEEE THAT SOMETIMES, THINGS ARE JUST THINGS AND ONCE THEY'RE GONE PAST THEIR SHELF LIFE OR WHATEVER LIFE THAT WE SHOULD JUST LET GO AND I DON'T KNOW, MOVE THE FUCK ON? Yes, I have in the past imagined some of my stuff to have lives of their own and feelings and shit like that and they'd somehow be hurt or offended if I'd ever consider throwing them out. But then I went through this process called "growing up" and then I realised that they are just fucking stuff and you keep what is dear to you and is of some value, and during that one Oprah episode where they went to this SICK HOARDING WOMAN'S place, they said if you haven't used it for more than a year JUST THROW IT THE FUCK OUT. ALL THIS EXTRA STUFF IN YOUR LIFE IS BAGGAGE I TELL YOU. Forgive me for sounding like a thoughtless, materialistic little biznatch who disposes of everything that she finds undesirable with a drop of a dime and constantly replaces them with newer, nicer things. I don't necessarily believe more stuff will make a person more happy; as clearly as can be read, I find it creates more conflict in life. More money, sure. More things? Not so. I mean, you always nag us to clean our cluttered spaces SO WHY CAN'T YOU APPLY IT TO YOUR OWN LIFE. GODDAMNITTTTT. I KEEP TELLING MYSELF THIS IS MY PENANCE OR TRIBULATION AND IT'S PETTY BUT REALLY I'M TRYING NOT TO LOSE MY FUCKING MIND HERE SO PLEASE GIVE ME A LITTLE CREDIT. MY GOD, DAD, I LOVE YOU BUT YOU CAN BE SO IMPOSSIBLE SOMETIMES. Inhale. Exhale. See, it's always super duper and then we get to the last few days of Ramadhan and it's always a bit more challenging for me. Inhale. Exhale. Okay, back to work.

Just dawned upon me how much shit I'll be getting for the amount of shit that's about to unload, so, with that in mind, am gonna stop whining in my head and forget about embarrassing myself and just suck it up and fucking carpe diem the shit out of Monday morning (or maybe afternoon) and ask for a raaaiiseee. I CAN DO THIS I CAN DO THIS I CAN DO THIS. I DESERVE IT I DESERVE IT I DESERVE IT. Stomach in, chest out, chin up. LET'S GOOO GAMBATTE SYAHIRAH-DESSS

Mom: You got any jeans that needs to be washed not?
Me: Ummm. They're not dirty. Only wore them twice.
Mom: Where. Give me. I bet it smells like pepek.
Me: Ahahahhah. Okay later I find.

Two minutes later...
Me: *hands jeans over* Nah. Smell ah. Bau pepek tak?
Mom: *sniffs groin area* Bau macam cibai.
Me: *LAUGHS LIKE A MANIAC LOUD ENOUGH TO BE HEARD BY NEIGHBOURS FROM THE BLOCK ACROSS*

I was all set to write something else down, but then my laziness took over. I have absolutely no inspiration to write lately, and anything else I actually do pen down would be in my private journal. Life has been good to me as of late and I just wish I can share some of my happiness with other people and give it to others who really need it. I have a job, finally. All this time I keep telling people that I am living off my parents' money in some bloodsucking, parisitic way just because it seems funnier in an assholic type of way. Which is not true. I haven't gotten allowance money ever since I graduated for more than a year ago, and it's nearly left me completely broke. But three weeks into my job now, I am looking forward to my first pay. My family has been all kinds of wonderful. (At least, at the moment.) Feeling really blessed and thankful for the past couple of months and why I'm suddenly contemplating all this is because my sister, who pretended to be asleep, just whispered "finally" to me when I came to tuck her in. She is just so cute. (But don't tell her I told you.) I have the urge to kiss her every two seconds and rub my nose in her cheeks and hair and make her hug my head so I can kiss her arm. Tucking her into bed is so much fun; other people may not understand it, but yeah. I wish she wouldn't get bigger and taller and older anymore, just stay the way she is. Obviously I'd prefer her to stay as, say, her 5-year old self or something. But then I'd have no one to share lame and disgusting inside jokes with. So when she gets older, I am looking forward to cracking crude sex jokes and all the other nasties that teenage (and adult) buffoonery permits. Right now though, I'll just contend to watching her fall asleep like the sick pedophile pervert that I am and pray that life gets better and better. Cheers guys.

PS. How gay was this?
PPS. Don't judge.

My two minutes with Yasmin Ahmad:

"I think the most powerful scenes in both movies (Gubra and Mukhsin) were scenes where I saw Jason and Orked together. It really was very touching, and I was just wondering, why did you put those scenes in?"

"Because I wanted them to be married."

"Even when there's a possibility that it can never happen?"

"It was a nonsense scene... because there was young Orked and then playing a kite with this boy. And then there was older Orked there with Jason... So it was a nonsense scene, and this, I think, is closer to reality than logic. Because it is completely illogical: How can a young Orked and an old Orked exist at the same time? How can old Orked be married to a man who died, and having a baby together, living on a farm? But the fact that it can stir up feelings inside you... Because when I saw it, I went like, (wistfully) 'Dia dah kahwinnn...', dah ada anak, living in this place which is so lovely, and they're playing kites, and it's like paradise!

The fact that it can stir emotions kinda says that, you know, you can't calculate your way to prove that God exists, but my God, He exists. You know what I mean? The best things in life and love are unseen and completely illogical, but they're more real than anything you can calculate."

Is this a joke? Please tell me it's a joke. Did we like, reserve our worst performance of this season deliberately for this game?

But yes, at least it's Barca. Can you imagine if it were Chelsea? Then, I'd slit my wrists.

Congrats Barcelona. Good game. We stank. Of pure corpse. See, we do have humility. (Ya, I just had to, hadn't I.)

And let this be the end of it.

(But of course not.)

Clearly, you're just an inconsequential novelty: amusing, new, unfamiliar, untouched, unknown and there, but still completely pointless. And I? Just looking for something, someone -- any small pieces of nothing -- to fill my essence (or lack of it). But would you care to be my nothing? Oh please sir, why don't you say something small enough to fit into the tiny little crevices in my heart? Obviously this is going nowhere; it's just begun and already the end is imminent. Till then, fascinate me, pervade me, inspire me; I command you. Don't even bother with being coy -- all that does is annoy. On the other hand, please do. Or is it, "why not?" Talk in tongues and silly smiles; it's all really Dutch to me. Because the truth is the truth is the truth is I can't remember what it feels like to be truly kissed, and if I were to tell you that I was previously simply a mess of badly drawn lines... Why, now I envision your face turning away from mine.