Mighty Jacksparrow

It is fucked up. Yes. The total whole week.

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Monday and Tuesday were all wasted on registration of the portgraduate, which means there was no time for research at all. I managed to escape one of the briefing session with Timmy and started my readings back again but it was all literally too late; I was tired and my mind was not working perfectly in order to generate ideas and thoughts, even to just digest whatever concepts that I was particularly having my mind into. So there goes two days.

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Wednesday, well, the registration of the GA thing. General Assistant for academic teaching. I got Mechatronics II Laboratory, which means I am going to spend my time assisting the undergraduate during the lab time in order to complete their experiments etcetera. It is going to be quite tough since that now we are running with high end programs like MATLAB and Simulink. 4 sessions a week, means no time for research for the whole sixteen (4 hours per lab x 4 sessions) hours per week for the next 7 weeks to come. And I was promoted as an assistant for HRM subject, from which i heard i will be having like 300 students under my care this semester. Less research works, again. . Thursday, which means today, I fell sick. With the weather and the level of human stupidity around me. Funny to see some aged people doing funny shits that actually suggested me to say that their ages were around 5 to none instead of twenty-something. It is very sad to say that despite the high level of challenging academic approach here in UTP, some people still come up with ridiculosuly stupid ideas and such. Degrading minds, i should have pondered within myself.

.

Tomorrow, Friday again. Will be joining a course made compulsory to all Postgraduate students from 9am to 5pm. No research again. . Saturday and Sunday, i may need to spend my time on research but still there will be some symposium thing going on and i may need to take my head into it in those two days left on the whole week. I have to build the mockup gasifier, a working model, and have it running by next week. i need to collect some oil palm fronds and process them quickly under strict engineering standard procedures and methods in order to achieve high accuracy on my experiments, and get prepared to present them in the incoming symposium.

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Ir Dr Shaharin, my supervisor, told me that I have to participate in a National Postgraduate Symposium soon, which means i may need to start my work immediately so that i can present my findings in front of hundreds of Professors, Ingineurs, Doctorates, Masters and other level of researchers about my current Energy project. Since my field is always the field of interests, they will of course pay double or triple the attention. And this is as well going to be very hard to focus with.

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The grant for the project has been acquired, which means i have thousands of Ringgit to be spent on my project alone. I am expected to have the real gasifier ready at the end of this year, which means i may need to run up to Penang and sit down with the fabricator and supervise the fabrication works later on. And for this fabrication alone there will be a lot of calculations, justificatiosn, experiments, modellings, refinement, improvisations and many more engineering aspects to be further looked into before the actual fabrication takes place to minimize all mistakes and flaws in terms of engineering design. . Overall, it is a very tiring week.

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She expects me to be back this weekend. Im sorry, i cannot. I know she is upset and all but this is the real thing; being a master student i will be very, very busy. I have a background of not going back for almost a year due to research alone and I may be all sure that i may repeat the history again. Pity her, really. And the more i think about it the more i feel bad about myself for actually commencing the relationship.

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Plus, there were a lot of things that i didnt get this week. Im a type of man that when he does not get what he wants, he will go berserk for quite some time. My work will automatically reach a halt, my mood will go the other way around, my emotion will be heavily fluctuating and i tend to lose patience easily. Sometimes what i ask for are all small, little things but life cannot be all generous.

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So here’s a word for you, life. I just hope you appreciate me better.

So now I am a graduate, currently waiting for my graduation ceremony which is scheduled on August the 24th here in UTP.

What life could possibly offer, after such hardship for nearly six years being in the academical line and still as for now? A lot.

I have already started my studies in Master of Science by Research in Mechanical Engineering around 4 to 5 weks back. Serving the Energy Cluster Team of Mechanical Engineering, I am the only postgraduate student among the magnificent others; the senior lecturers, the associate professors and the ‘Ingineur’ with most of them having doctorate level in their academic background. I, on the other hand with only a degree to start with, feel very proud and honored to serve this team of highly respected academicians and international level researchers in order to assist them to reach the team target by the end of this year.

I followed up my recent FYP works on Oil Palm Fiber from fronds, stems, branches and leaves as raw feedstock in a gasifier. To those who might not be familiar with this technology, a gasifier is meant to produce combustible gases from pyrolisis - the action of combusting the feedstock under controlled amount of oxygen in order to achieve incomplete combustion - and supply this gas into internal combustion engine.

So far the study is overall hectic. Too many concepts to grab and understand, too many problems but too less the solutions, too many questions but less definite answers and etcetera. But well this is what postgraduate study is all about. Finding solutions, answers to problems and questions; to solve the unsolvable; to poke a needle into the unpenetrable.

Insya Allah, in 2 years time I will soon complete this study and then continue the project as my PhD continuum, followed with Ir. status (if i ever get into the industry) or keep on doing the same work until I am satisfied with this ancient engineering conceptual but only were brought into attention sometime ten years back when petroleum depletion became quite an issue to handle.

By the end of winter 2014, I will receive my Dr. initial. Dr. Mohd. Nazmi. Cool!

Yes, you idiot. He apparently *is* dead.

First and foremost, this writing is meant to provide crystal clear fact for those who actually believed, and still, that Heath Ledger is still alive. He’s dead, people. Didn’t you read anything about him?

In case to those who do not know whoabout this Heath Ledger, he was the guy who played ‘The Joker’ in Batman’s The Dark Night which was recently released in the cinemas weeks back.

He died from an accidental prescription drug overdose at age 28, shortly after he finished his play in The Dark Night.

So ladies, stop drooling over him already! He’s dead! Duh!

If I am to write today, I will write for myself.

There were times in life where I found myself completely clueless; looking out through the age-stained mirror on the wall and wonder about many things, and sometime, nothing at all.

There were times in the past where I found myself cutting my own memories into pieces, only to find that in the end they rearranged themselves back into what they were before perfectly, sometimes beyond perfection. Worst, they improve to be what we used to describe as a tiny burning coal in a silo of haystack. It might burn slowly, but point is in the end the haystack is gone without you knowing.

As hard as it is said to be, love could never be as merciful.

How would you feel when the only reason for you to live is the only reason for you to die? What do you do when all you have wanted to see all these times, and you did, but inside an undestroyable glass box? You swear you could have seen it shines, could have tasted it and smelled it but point being you were never across that wall of glass that breaks the both of you into two different worlds.

When the only thing you could have always wanted gives you series of false hopes and intimidating sacrifices as the price? The thing that provokes you to move forward, pushing everything that crosses your way aside, putting an end to every chance of failure only to see that at last never you could have reached it.

Does it matter, or not, to know everything that you have ever wanted, is everything you could never have? Does it matter to accept, or not, every failure en route to a neverending smile, if ever you could reach for one? Does it matter, or not, to love consecutively, unconditionally?

Six months. Six months solid since I have become a cripple - emotionwise. Six months have passed since my heart was unconditionally broken over my unconditional love. Never could i have forgot nor I could have ever forgiven of what one might describe as sensational torment. Six months I have worked myself out in order to face my only mistake - to fall intimidately in words I swore I would have never believed; into the eyes I swore I would never have trusted; in the woman so demonic I swore I would have never met.

What else would you feel when the only reason for you to let stay, is the only reason for you to let go? Worst, what do you do when the only reason for you to forgive, is the only reason for you to condemn?

And to condemn you, I shall do,
For all the pain you’ve walked me through,
Stop telling him your love is on fire
Because you were nothing else than just a liar.

p/s: button, im in you.

After more than six months of business strike when the my coworker quit in all of a sudden, the shop is back open when i finally found the replacement. Well, of course, it is all metaphorical.

Simply, I’m back in love. Again? Yeah again.

But whatever. I took this chance after precise calculations, fair justifications, deep analysis and critical probability predictions using series of uniform and non-uniform continuity equations. The thinking part was never easy, but what the hell anyway. After all, I think I am ready enough to get back into the field after a long, long recovery time due to the not-so-recent heartbreak.

So let’s take a look at her.

Ruhi Hasinah, or Wuhi, is a 23 years old Malay female who comes from the east side of the peninsular. Particularly gifted with pretty large eyes (do not ever STARE at them, they’re bad, bad eyes) and wavy long hair, she is the latest lady in the list and apparently the most unluckiest luckiest girl that finally made it into my life.

Being the fattest youngest girl in the family, she has this tendency to create cute expressions and gestures despite of her prime age. She is however a career girl; provided with engineering background, she works in an engineering firm and soon to complete her latest construction project sometime in the end of August.

She is academically certified to serve the engineering world as a Mechanical Engineer with specialization in metal fabrications. Hardcore.

Well she came to UTP the other day to meet me, which I think is a pretty nice thing to do. Stayed here for 3 days solid, she spent her time with me going places; feeding fishes in the big UTP lake, watching sunset on a lakeside bench, night walk in Lumut Waterfront, trainspotting in Ipoh and as well wasting time listening to my crappy philosophical thoughts during a heavy downpour.

What really touched me was that, she told me that she is proud of me in front of my face. My God. Seven years of love experiences, that was the first time I heard that from somebody who loves me. Seriously. Those before this usually came up with nasty comments on this and that and those and all; none of them actually told me that I did even one good deed in life. I don’t mind the comments but at least please appreciate what I did, because in certain ways I am still a kid who needs to be patted over good things he does.

Sigh.

But whatever. At least there is somebody willing enough to love the imperfect me. The broken, bitter me. The cigarette smoking and coffee drinking me. The angry, emotional me. The super busy, workaholic me. The boroi physically unattractive me. The critical, cynical, sarcastic and straight-to-the-point me. The whatever me.

Well what else could I say anyway? Thank you so much for coming, and staying, even though you’re 6 months late. Hope this one stays and sticks for long, and this goes to me as well. I will do my best to ensure the strength of the relationship, and Godspeed, I this is true then I will love you and still love you even when you’re so fat you cannot even move out from your bed, even when our kids already can form a full basketball team lineup, even when you have already lost your beautiful hair you’re balder than me, even when your beautiful skin has turned into that of Patrick Starfish’s, and even when you have already lost your memories you forget my name.

Aku x suka lipas. Aku benci. Aku meluat.

Aku tak boleh buat kerja kalau ternampak kelibat lipas dalam bilik aku walaupun untuk suku saat sahaja.  Aku  tak boleh mandi kalau ada lipas di dinding bilik air, apatah lagi berak ketika ada lipas menjenguk masuk ke dalam cubicle. Tak tenang berak aku, kadang-kadang sampai terbantut sampai 4, 5 hari jadinya. Tu belum tengok dia terbang dengan riang atas kepala lagi.

Aku x suka lipas. Aku benci.

Aku x boleh duduk diam kalau ada lipas merayap secara terang-terangan sebelum melarikan diri ke sudut-sudut gelap dan ambiguiti dalam bilik aku. Aku ada dua spray - satu Ridsect Protect-V dan satu lagi Target FK, kedua-duanya racun insektisid kelas 4 yang membunuh segala benda berkaki 6 di dalam bilik aku. Kadang-kadang yang berkaki 8 pun terkena juga walau bukan intensi niat sebenar aku untuk membunuh mereka.

Aku x suka lipas. Lipas sial.

Malam ni entah malam ke berapa aku dikejutkan dek lipas sialan tu. Merayap atas kepala dan belakang aku dengan kakinya yang tajam sehingga menyebabkan aku melompat ke lantai daripada keadaan baring secara serta-merta pukul 4.09 pagi buta. Aku bukak lampu, aku nampak binatang tu atas bantal aku. Dia tengok aku, aku tengok dia - kami bertentang mata. Heh, mau lawan? Aku capai dua-dua spray insektisid aku dan sembur ke arah haiwan rapuh tu sehingga ia cabut ke bawah katil.

Sial. Macam mana aku nak tidur kalau aku tau ada lipas bawah katil? So aku kosongkan dua-dua tiub racun tu dalam bilik aku dengan harapan lipas tunggal tu mati dalam keadaan dahsyat. Berkabus bilik aku jadinya. Silap-silap aku pun terbunuh sekali.

Sekarang dah tak boleh tidur sebab ada bunyik lipas nazak bawah katil aku. Krik krik krik. Cilake. Hidup menyusahkan aku, dah nak mati pun masih menyusahkan aku lagi. Dah mati karang aku jugak yang kena uruskan mayat dia. Dasar tak sedar diuntung.

Esok, sebaik sahaja matahari terbit dan apek tua di simpang lima tu bukak kedai, aku nak beli ubat gegat dalam 3, 4 tan nak tabur dalam bilik.

Entah apa yang dia carik agaknya dalam bilik aku. Nak kata kotor, tidak. Aku mop seminggu sekali. Aku vakum seminggu sekali. Sapu seminggu sekali. Takkan nak kena sapu hari-hari kot? Lemak la tu. Aku bukan pembantu rumah warga Indonesia mahupun anggota sukarelawan mana-mana agensi bukan kerajaan. Nak kata bilik aku busuk, ala biasa la bau rokok je pun. Nak kata bersepah, haram takde.

Habis, apa benda yang duk jadi bahan tarikan lipas ke bilik aku ni? Takkan aku kot? Melampau la tu. Walaupun aku masih bujang tapi aku pun ada pilihan sendiri. Ada taste sendiri. Benda ni mana boleh paksa-paksa. Cinta datang dari mata jatuh ke hati. Ini kalau kat mata pun aku dah maki hamun, kat hati jangan cerita la.

Dalam seminggu ni saje, termasuk barua yang menggeletik bawah katil tu, dah dekat 30 ekor lebih aku jahanamkan hidup mereka sekor-sekor. Kebanyakannya mati kena sembur insektisid sambil aku hisap rokok tengok diorang terseksa menghadapi sakaratulmaut. Yang lain ada yang kena sedut hidup-hidup oleh penyedut hampagas kuasa tinggi serta dibaling dengan selipar Bata yang kalau baling babi hutan pun boleh mati.

Hari tu aku sembur satu bilik. Ada la dalam sebelas ekor yang kecik-kecik sampai yang sebesar kepala aku pun ada terbunuh dalam serangan nekad aku terhadap puak lipas. Yang cilakenye, semua mati berkumpul dalam mug aku. Barua. Dah sekarang aku x ada mug nak minum kopi. Terpaksa la guna cup polisterin isi kopi McD yang aku saje bawak balik tempoh hari. Mug aku tu ada lagi kat dapur, sekali dengan mangsa-mangsa pembunuhan beramai-ramai tu. 2 hari aku tak selera nak makan lepas tengok kejadian yang menakutkan tu, dipercayai dilakukan atas dasar balas dendam akibat serangan senjata kimia yang disasarkan terhadap mereka.

Setan. Sekarang aku nak buat apa pukul 4 pagi buta ni? Dah la x boleh tidur balik. Esok kat ofis memang mengantuk punya la. Lepas tu kat lab tido. Research semua tak buat. Pasal lipas sekor tu je hidup aku satu hari meletop hanco tebabo. Dah la benda tu rapuh. Kalau terpijak karang lagi la sialnye, silap-silap seminggu aku hilang selera makan tengok segala benda hijau biru kuning isi perut dia bersepai bawah tapak kaki aku. Eee jijik.

Kalau esok lusa ada lagi lipas yang datang bilik aku, aku bom bangunan ni. Aku cakap betul!

p/s: sila bantu saya perangi lipas. nyatakan cara-cara menghapuskan lipas atau membuatkan lipas benchi untuk datang ke bilik saya lagi. Maseh!

From The Files of Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital. Sorta.

The only way to keep me occupied is just by giving me a Rubik cube. No, not the physical cube with six different colors and a series of mathematical models as its solutions. I’m talking about the other Rubik cube; the Rubik of life, but still with the same features; endless puzzles, unexplained phenomenas, series of manipulated variables and roots of life logic that branch out to numbers of possibilities. Difference between the real Rubik and the next Rubik is that, one may find a solution or two or more on the real Rubik Cube, but not everyone can actually find an answer to every life Rubik challenge.

Give me one problem and I will sit down with my coffee and cigarettes and think about it for an explanation or a solution for it over a period of time. I will explore numbers of possibilities, evaluate the chances, review the logic and define the final solution for it, as long as I want it to be. Problem is, there are still some questions that I cannot simply find the solution; even with a mathematical models, finite element theories, science and other relevant fields of research.

Especially my own personality. And this bothers me a lot. Or maybe I was curious? Like an eight year old boy with a puzzle that’s just a little too grown up for him to figure out?

Figuratively, I found another alternative explanation on sex. Quoting Dr Cameron from House MD, "Sex could kill you. Do you know what the human body goes through when
you have sex? Pupils dilate, arteries constrict, core temperature
rises, heart races, blood pressure skyrockets, respiration becomes
rapid and shallow, the brain fires bursts of electrical impulses from
nowhere to nowhere, and secretions spit out of every gland, and the
muscles tense and spasm like you’re lifting three times your body
weight. It’s violent. It’s ugly. And it’s messy. And if God hadn’t made
it unbelievably fun, the human race would have died out eons ago."

The more I think about it, the more I get stuck. In between truth and lies there lies a very thin membrane that allows you to sneak from one to another, alternatively. And I use to lie to myself that I am alright when I am not, and I use to convince myself that I am not alright when in fact I am. What makes what I am is what I am. Or is it just deception? Followed by acceptance in order to be great about myself?

But that can’t be right. I have not undergone the Five Stages of Grief just yet:

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance 

Or probably I am just juggling with the stages? Well maybe I forget things too. Somebody should have been into my temporal lobe by now. What is it like to be in an OR?

"Now neurosurgeons here with a view of the monitors. Cardiac surgeon there in case we need to open him up. Anesthesiologist, one by the cardiac bypass machine and one by the anesthetic machine. Two helpers standing next to the defib machine in case he goes into v-fib, be ready to charge. Someone please get the suction ready. Everybody ready? You, over there. Turn on the music and we’re good to go. Let’s open this kid up."   

Funky.

Overall this line from Season 2 House MD somehow brings me another thought:

"You don’t like yourself. But you do admire yourself. That’s all you’ve got so you cling to it. You’re so afraid if you change, you’ll lose what makes you special. Being miserable doesn’t make you any better than everybody else. It just makes you miserable."

Yeah. Thanks Wilson. But I am just too miserable.

A few weeks on intense engineering researches have made the five of us all very tired and before we start flunking most of our works, one of us came out with a brilliant plan.

"Let’s go for a vacation."

Fantastic. But where to? Provided that all of us were broke and had nothing else but a huge pile of used cooking oil, old bread crumbs and cardboard cuttings for food and a piece of torn and rotten boxer each for clothing, we could never afford to go for a vacation. As we all were down due to the tragic moment of truth, somebody came up with another brilliant idea.

So there we went. Teluk Rubiah; around 60 kilometers from UTP and next to Lumut, this place is
now a private beach, owned by a resort named Teluk Rubiah Resort. Typical, but that’s not the point. Point is, Teluk Rubiah is one of the most beautiful place and beach that i have ever seen. One room cost us MYR140.00, and each of us pay more or less MYR30.00 each. The extra ten bucks of course went to me, because I am the most senior. Gahahah.

Anyway. Who were these five people? Let’s take a look at the picture below. As you can see, there are four semi-naked freaks with one so-call-cultured in the blue shirt. From left to right are; Mr Timmy G, Mr Dippy, Mr Chubb, me, and Mr Bhai. This was taken after our first time session in the water half an hour after we arrived in the resort.

Let’s go on them one by one.

Mr Timmy G

This is Mr Timothy. We call him Timmy G. Timmy loves coffee so much that his body now has replaced blood and other body fluids with entirely black roast coffee. He as well loves good tobacco, and these two things; tobacco and coffee made him very difficult man to miss when he passes by. Self-proclaims to be the most cultured man among us all, Timmy G. has extreme mind that is dedicated entirely on Mathematics. Well that’s why sometimes we use him as our mobile calculator instead of our phones that are equipped with one as well, all because this guy memorize the classic ‘Buku Sifir 4 Angka’ and he can do iteration, simplification, differentiation and swearing at the same time. What a Nasa Guy. Next!

Mr Suren L.S.

We call him Chubb. When we were in our first year, he used to be a giant in our group. His size alone made us look like Dung Beetles that swarm around the food. Anyway he’s a Chindian - a mix of Chinese and Indian. Being the Half Blood Prince this man can speak fluent Malay with Terengganu slang essence apart from Tamil and Hokkien, continuously making others who do know him not to be in deep confusion to tell whether this guy is a Malay or otherwise. He enjoys fine wine and pipe smoking, other than his casual todi and Bah Kut Teh. He occasionally plays tennis and casually complains about the joint pains he gets from it. He has this certified Aikido certificate and by looking at his ability, chances are you’re going to be smashed into atoms if you ever start to mess with him. Way to Go Chubb.

Mr Deep Kumar

Being the only guy with bigger body than Suren and prettier face than Amitabh Bachan, this fella is a soft guy despite his tyrant look and brutal appearance.  That’s why we call him Dippy. Wonderful fact is, he can’t speak Tamil. Hahahahah. What the hell? How come? Not even the smart boy Timmy G. has the answer. Apparently he is a junior of us four so he has to follow all orders and carries out all outstanding tasks, especially when his strength is required. Rumor says that when he gives out a loud fart, the sound can be heard clearly in the third Nebula, and the axis of the earth is moved three inch towards the sun. So Global Warming is all his contribution to us so far. Careful with that bad wind, buddy. You’ll never know who you might kill.

Mr Singh

The only guy who never went for a haircut since more than ten years. We call him Bhai because, well, what else do we call a Punjabi kid? He has this ability to hibernate for a very long time, being the only living thing that can do so in this equatorial garrison. Despite his thin body, this guy eats twice the amount of what Dippy takes on a daily basis. And he loves Samy Vellu very much that he will quote Samy Vellu in every sentence he makes. He did not smoke nor he ate red meat and he was the most pious guy in the society, ever. Until of course, he met us. Now he smokes and he drinks and he ate all the meat a slaughterhouse  can produce.

Putting these kids altogether, they will work in a team as engineers with various backgrounds and specialties. They can force themselves to generate ideas and solutions to unsolved problems and mysteries, and no other group can produce the number of scary controversial theories that these guys design everyday. They’ll scatter during the day and regroup at agreed time, and when they get together they will produce at least one creative product that looks like this:

Very, very disturbing.

I went back to KL the other day, enjoying a few days off from the line of academia. Incoherent with my original thought, at first, but overall i thought i deserve a decent break from all of those hectic situations.

I met Anot for the first time the other day. Well she was everything she said she was so i could completely take her as who she was and still is. No problem there anyway. Went for lunch and a ride to the old KL railway station for some photography things while watching both diesel and electric trains passing by.

Been 6 months long I have never been into a relationship. Honestly, I
tried to have one. I seriously did. But let’s just say that the ground
was still stormy it was not safe to land the plane. Well at least not
yet. Maybe soon the storm weather will calm down, oh it better does
because if it does not I might be going down crashing in fire.

I met this one girl too during the holiday. Well she was nice and all; the type of lady that a man like me would like to have. But maybe it was coming too fast and I didn’t realize what was hitting me.

I was afraid. So afraid.

I hate how love works. It works on uncertainties; a number of irregular possibilities combined with various consequences that carry out different outcomes. It works on fear and needs. It works on desperation measure and internal feelings. It works on hope and emotions. It works on everything. But most of all, it works on series of probability and uncertainties.

Worst, you can tell the pattern but never you can really predict the end outcome of love.

Back to this girl. She’s cute. Pretty. Intelligent. A career lady with taste of fashion. She laughed a lot when we first met. She laughed even more when we met for the second time. We sent messages, we talked on the phones, we chatted via online messaging systems.

But we were wrong on one single thing; we did not interpret our feelings right.

That’s why just now when she asked on me, "Are you sure this is what you want?" then i know that all we did days back happened to be just nothing. Nothing in particular, nothing at all. So I smiled and i turned off the handphone when she was calling my name still to explain things. But i could never take it anymore that i could feel something snapped right in between my lungs.

It rained again. There I was, standing in showering droplets of water completely wetting my face and exposed torso. I felt the coldness, i could feel the sharp drops hitting me in the face as i looked up into the sky. Tried to smile but my lips were all frozen.

I thought somebody would love me back. So I thought.

p/s: just leave me the fuck alone.

The Rules :
1. Each blogger must post these rules first.
2. Each blogger starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3.
Bloggers that are tagged need to write on their own blog about their
eight things and post these rules. At the end of your blog, you need to
choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’ve been tagged, and to read your blog.

Editor’s Note: I canceled out some of the 3rd rule because I do not have any blog friend other than the two future doctors. Such will cancel out the 4th rule as well. Don’t complain, okay. It’s my blog after all. Wahahah.

1. I Sleep Like A Cat
Many thanks to my mom for her addiction towards cat that finally affected the brain of the infant she carried 23 years back, causing behaviors we usually refer to as male cat identity. It’s kenan. Ya saya terkenan kucing. I will bend both my arm and palm to mimic the paws of a cat during my sleep, unconsciously. And i will roll myself on the bed, still mimicking a cat’s sleeping position. You can stop laughing now Hani, please, before I scratch your face.

2. I Have A Lady’s Wardrobe
And by that I mean my clothes collection. And no I don’t have any brassiere or panties or any of women clothing. Closely related to women, I have 18 T-shirts, 7 casual shirts, 19 collared shirts, 5 formal shirts, 7 baju melayus, 4 sarong pelikat,  5 casual shirts, 9 long pants, 5 short pants, 4 jeans,  5 neck ties, 11 socks, one snow cap, one baseball cap, 7 pair of shoes, 3 slippers, 6 handkerchiefs, 4 pair of jackets, a lab coat, an engineer’s overall and endless garments. No i won’t tell how many briefs i have.

3. I Am Sentimental
I find my memories a treasure for me to keep. That includes my childhood toys. my bike, my old stuffs, my love letters, my notes etc.

4. I Oftentimes Am Abused By My Mom
Not sexually. My God you guys are perverts. Provided that my mom has two sons and no daughter, and she was a dealer for several cosmetics product, I will become her lab rats for most of her torturing cosmetics. She will apply facial wash, toner, mask, oil remover, black spot remover, shampoo, conditioner, skin cream, lightening cream, lip gloss, deodorant, and so on. Since to disobey means death, I had no other choice than to surrender without conditions.

5. My Room Is Better Than Women’s
I sweep and vacuum and mop the floor and carpet and the Sarawak bamboo mat. I clean the window panes and my table with wet clothes. I arrange my shoes on the rack and I do my bed. I fold my shirts and hang the others after they have been ironed. I arrange my table and my book shelves. I clean everything to a point that my mates suggested that I should apply for housekeeping job. I strongly believe that my room is a hotel room and I am gonna keep it that way. Hey I even have scent sticks, alright?

6. I Brew My Coffee
I don’t drink 3-in-1 coffee. I brew my own and control the taste by taking the sugar and creamer as controllable variables. It’s an art one needs to study and practice before being able to produce well brewed coffee.

7. I Like Animals
I have pets from various animals. I have had cats, hamsters, Betta fishes. tortoises, a catfish, birds, colorful chicks (they ended up white when adult), an earthworm, beetles, a community of ants, and apparently a goat that now has ended up having a family of seven.

8. I Have Only Two Blog Friends
One is Hani and another one is Hajar. Both are future doctors and both are younger than me. Both are women as well, apparently. But they are bullies. That explains my miseries and self-pitying. I’m hurt. Hate doctors, throw rocks at them. Dush dush!