Anyone Seen My Self-Esteem?

Parodies are fun to give boring, repeated-to-death fairy tales a fresh look at the story.

I wrote this piece in 2005 for a drama competition, in which I also acted, and brought my class to near victory (2^nd place ain’t that bad). Well, it’s better than getting last. Now, for your reading pleasure, I present to you: Cinderella, Version 1.2.

Don’t be shy to act out the scenes if you want J

2^nd Prize Winner, English Week Drama Competition (Sem 1, 2005)

CLASS M05H PRESENTS:

CINDERELLA, VERSION 1.2

SCENE 1

A long, long time ago, in a fairy land far, far away, where no Darth Vader nor Princess Leia lived, was a beautiful planet by the name of Sky Kingdom (not in any relation with Ayah Pin whatsoever). There, ruled a wealthy and kind-hearted King An-Nas, who gave prosper to the entire community. He had a song, Prince Ali McB, 17 and still single, therefore, still searching for Miss Right. The kin had planned a ball at his grand palace for his son to find his possible soul mate in two days, but enough about them for the time being.

30 miles away, was a cottage by an enchantingly beautiful lake. In the cottage was a family of 4, consisting of the evil stepmother, two evil stepsisters, and the heroine of our story, Siti Cinderella. Relatively, Cinderella is way beautiful than her stepsisters, which made them hate her even more. Her stepmother forces her to do all the chores, and this has been Cinderella’s cause of suffering ever since she hit puberty and her face went all blotchy.

Now, all of them have heard news of the grand ball, and desires to go, wishfully thinking of flirting and winning the heart of Prince Ali McB.

STEPSISTER 1:           Look at my shiny batik! For sure, the prince will fall head over heels when he sees me in this outfit!

STEPSISTER 2:           Alah, that’s nothing compared to my extra glossy kebaya gown! I’m sure he’ll pick me out of the many girls there, and ask me to marry him and we’ll live happily ever after! Oh, my prince charming, I love you!

STEPMOTHER:          Oh, please you two! Stop giving me a headache! Cinderellaaaa!

CINDERELLA:           Yes, mother! (Rushes to attend her stepmother)

STEPMOTHER:          Bring me some panadol and watermelon juice! Pronto!

CINDERELLA:           But we don’t have watermelon juice or panadol! We’re in

Sky

Kingdom

, not Banting mother!

STEPMOTHER:          Wah, you dare disobey me! (Slaps Cinderella)

STEPSISTER 1:           Hahaha, you deserve it!

STEPSISTER 2:           (Shows tongue to Cinderella)

STEPMOTHER:          Haa, after this, iron my lovely batik! I want to make sure I look flawless for tomorrow’s ball!

CINDERELLA:           Can I come too, mother?

STEPMOTHER:          What?? You? (grimacing) Muahahaha don’t make me laugh! You’re smelly, look scruffy, and you don’t even have a nice gown! You’ll embarrass me! Stop this nonsense, I need my beauty sleep!

SCENE 2

Sobbing in her room, Cinderella cries a river, alone in the dark. When for all the sudden, a spark of light twinkles and just like in any typical fairytale, a fairy godmother appears!

FAIRY GODMOTHER:          Hello, my dear! Why so glum?

CINDERELLA:                       (Surprised) Who are you? How come you…

FAIRY GODMOTHER:          Why, I’m your fairy godmother! I’m here to make your life easier!

CINDERELLA:                       Fairy godmother? Like the ones in fairytales with a plump figure, wings, and a halo?

FAIRY GODMOTHER:          Err, something like that, only I’m slimmer. Anyway, I know about your woes, and that’s why I’m here to help!

CINDERELLA:                       You mean you’ll get me tickets to see the grad premier of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire this November?

FAIRY GODMOTHER:          Hello?? The ball of course! Now, get me a pumpkin and two rats, so I can do my magic no Harry Potter can do with my magic wand!

CINDERELLA:                       But we ran out of pumpkins last week! All we have left is durians. And rats?? Yuck! I have pet hamsters, will that do?

FAIRY GODMOTHER:          (Sigh) Oh well, something is better than nothing. Now, step aside please!

Waving her magic hand in hand, the fairy godmother casts a spell, and magically, the durian turns into a taxi, the hamsters into the taxi driver and another into a chauffeur. Most of all, Cinderella’s ugly rug turned into an enchanting gown with matching tudung and high heels. To make a long story short, they headed towards the grand palace.

SCENE 3

The time was

9pm

, and the grand ball went as planned. Every girl tried their best to charm Prince Ali McB’s heart, only to disappoint the poor prince even more. Even the two stepsisters didn’t succeed. That was, until Cinderella made her entrance. All eyes were on her, especially the Prince’s. Stunned by her beauty, he approached her and invited her to dance with him.

(60’s music played – preferably The Beatles’ “I Wanna Hold Your Hand”)

Dancing with grace with chemistry in the air, Cinderella was living every girl’s dream come true. And she was definitely making all the girls green with envy, especially her stepsisters. But as time flies when one is having fun, the clock strikes

11 o’clock

.

CINDERELLA:           Oh, shoot! I gotta go now!

PRINCE ALI MCB:    So soon?? I thought in the original version, you’re allowed to dance till

12 o’clock

?

CINDERELLA:           Well, since this drama is allowed only 10 minutes to run, the script writers had to cut down the time! Bye bye, my lovely prince!

PRINCE ALI MCB:    Wait! At least tell me your name!

CINDERELLA:           Look, I gotta leave before my cab turns back into a smelly durian! Just remember me as Cinderella. Ta-ta!

And so, Cinderella rushes out in such haste that her sunglasses fell from her grips, but since she was in such a hurry, she just kept on going. Minutes after, the prince picks up the glasses, staring into nothingness as in his mind, only the mesmerizing beauty of Cinderella’s face exists.

SCENE 4

The whole nation was on the look out as King An-Nas ordered a search for his prince’s new sweetheart, Cinderella. All over the country, the Prince searched high and low, but not one girl fitted the sunglasses perfectly like Siti Cinderella had during the ball. They tried, but it was either too small for their large head size, or too loose to the point of falling of their noses.

After days of searching in vain, the group arrived at Cinderella’s cottage, where her stepmother was locking her in the basement. At first, both stepsisters tried on the sunglasses, but none fitted perfectly. Even the evil stepmother tried her luck! As the prince almost gave up, he heard a commotion from the basement.

PRINCE ALI MCB:    What’s that loud noise coming from down there?

STEPMOTHER:          Err, maybe just rats?

PRINCE ALI MCB:    Something’s fishy here. I’m going to your basement.

STEPMOTHER:          But your highness…

PRINCE ALI MCB:    Open the door!

            (Stepmother unlocks the door reluctantly)

CINDERELLA:           My prince! (Bows to the prince)

PRINCE ALI MCB:    No need to bow to me. Please try this. Hope some miracle will finally happen.

            

And miraculously, it does! As soon as the sunglasses fit perfectly, heavenly music is played out of no where and gold dust start raining.

PRINCE ALI MCB:    (Sighs of relief) Finally, I found you my darling. (Bows down to his knees) Cinderella, will you marry me?

CINDERELLA:           So soon? Let’s date a few times at Starbucks first, and I’ll decide. It’s your treat!

PRINCE ALI MCB:    Oh, my darling, must I?

CINDERELLA:           No lah, dummy. Let’s get married!

And so, they got married, produced 3 offspring, and like any other typical fairytale, lived happily ever after.

-The End-

Director: Alia

Scrip Writer: Ali

Narrator: Alia & Hamdan

Prop Makers: Puteri, Mahuzah, Iqa, Wani, Aishah, Ummi, Jo Lin, Nuruddin@Jeluk, Amin

Starring: Ali (Prince), Anas (King), Fiqah (Siti Cinderella), Intan (Stepmother), Nisya & Munirah (Stepsisters 1/2), Fifi (Fairy Godmother), Faiq & Bazli (Taxi Driver/Chauffeur), Hadi (Darth Vader)

Credits to: Pn. Noor Asyikin Ayub (beloved English teacher) & fellow M05H-ers… We had lotsa fun!

Warm
the blood is
running up and down my veins
faithfully giving
ever so receiving
of gases with great importance
that prolongs my existence
and convey, you do
sources of nourishment
significant for
harmonizing my spirit
tranquil my mind is

Surging
hormones are
alerting me
they ready me
when hazard abound
terrorizes my conscience
jeapordizes my very existence
taken aback
I will not
my very gratitude
worthy of it, you are

Basic
the cells are
the units of life
before the dawn of man
you were
a wonder in the eyes
of the blessed universe
out of nothingness
you were
and now
pieces of me
droplets in my body
working as one
though billions
you are
now and forever

My
oh my
tenderness
inside of me
go away
shall you not?
as my body
takes the toll
slowly ventilate
I do
whimper in pain
and agonized
I am
please
have mercy
on this weakling
take it
no more,
I will
almost
I surrender
faith
almost plundered
nearly
not definitely
in silence
I pray
for the remedy

Help
I fear
when malady strikes
vulnerable, my body
defenseless
powerless
without you, antibiotic
I would be
but reassured, I am
comforted, I’ll be
to you
I trust
with my little white knights
shield me, you will
for eternity
fearlessly you battle
those barbaric invaders
in my warmth
I live on
knowing you’ll go on
until my last
breath is drawn

Energy
I need
thankfully
a powerhouse
I have
known not as TNB
another story, that is
instead, biology students
smartly, we’ve learned
from our forefathers
ever so willing to explore
science, the wonders of it
and so
the great ancient researchers
bestowed upon this power plant
deep inside of us
a name
a Greek name
a title of honour
for its diligence
mitochondrion
treasured you are
forgotten
you will not be

A son
a daughter
sprung from my loins
oh, how I wonder
alike, we are
unmistakably
"like father
like son"
correct you, I should!
"like father
and like mother,
like son
or like daughter"
it should be
say geneticists
no qualms, I have
they speak of the truth
based on the a thing
we call genes
compartments, they are
of a molecule
marvelled by thinkers
that possesses
great knowledge
of us, mere human beings
behold
a supremacy

My,
oh my,
an obsessor of Biology,
but of course,
admit I do -
"I am,
yes I am!"
Care, I do not
should you belittle
my obsession -
"What a nerd,
what a freak,
oh, what a geek!"
- with mere words,
shan’t weaken me,
because my passion,
because my devotion,
because my attention,
all so ever will be yours,
for struck me with awe you have,
for intriguing my mind you have,
for capturing my interest you have,
forever and always.

Your biggest fan,
ilA damhA

Seriously, someone get these people a room.

Of all the places to make out, some couples choose the most ‘un-sanka-rable’ places. I was going through my old newspaper dated

28^th December 2006

, and read one headline in disbelief – “Taxis Turned Den of Sin”

It was reported in Harian Metro, a daily Malay newspaper, that some students are willing to pay RM100 to taxi drivers for half an hour of hanky-panky in the back seat. Mostly students from institutions of higher learning (let’s make a wild guess – UiTM, UiTM, or UiTM? I mean, who can forget the raunchy UiTM couple videos making out near the stairs?), they aren’t ashamed of removing their clothes, kissing, and doing 18SX acts that FINAS would happily cut out from

Hollywood

movies. Being their own ‘censors’, these hormone-raging students would ask to take a trip outside the city to avoid stares from the public, says Lim, a taxi driver.

“They seem unembarrassed removing their clothes, and even are willing to pay more when their 30 minutes of passion are over just so they can continue! Drivers critical of their acts would get a tongue-lashing, shouted, and even told not to interfere,” Lim is quoted saying. In response, disgusted taxi drivers place a ‘No Kissing Please’ sign in their vehicles.

Yuck. Yuck yuck yuck yuck. Did I mention ‘Yuck’ yet?

Simply outrageous.

Who’d thought a concert without spiky-haired rockers and heavy guitar riffs would ROCK?

It’s official - I’ve fallen in love with Japanese culture, all over again. And their lovely people wearing lovely kimonos and walking oh-so-adorably like geishas. Not to mention J-Pop singers that makes fabulous music like Utada Hikaru. Ooh, not forgetting the food (sushi is mouthwatering. Period) What is there not to love about

Japan

?

Anyway, on Saturday (

20/1/2007

) night, I went to Istana Budaya, near Jalan Tun Razak, for the cultural performance "Japanese Drum Concert: Beating & Blazing". The show started at

8.30pm

, but I & my college mates had arrived at the Istana Budaya to line up since

11am

for the 100 free tickets they were giving away. And after 1 hour and 45 minutes of entertaining ourselves by playing kindergarten games like ‘Cap-cili-cap’, ‘Spelling Bee’ or ‘Charades’ (hey, we were BORED. And they were pretty fun :P), we finally got our hands on the tickets.

It was

12.45pm

. And another 7 hours and 45 minutes till the show. And so we spent our time (and $$$) ‘voyaging’ around KLCC - having late lunch at Burger King (sitting next to a group of loud Iranian girls with body odour. yuck), window shopping stuff with price tags ridiculously expensive, and ‘cuci mata’-ing people that caught our fancy. Typical teenager outing

6pm

. We headed towards our bus and made a move to Istana Budaya, with the intention of avoiding heavy traffic usually associated with KL. But the roads seemed only clear. On a Saturday evening? KL-ites must be using public transport more often, now that Sami Vellu hiked the prices of toll rates. Thanks, Sammy!

Around

7.15pm

. We took pictures with an American-accented Japanese women in her 20’s, donning a beautiful kimono that compliments her lovely peach-shaped face, by the name of Noriko. She was helping her mother Muramoto (if my memory serves me right), who is a flutist, to promote her album entitled “Jambatan” (Malay for “Bridge”). At RM90 per CD? I could only dream of owning such a pricey collection. Muramoto apologized for the price tag, explaining that their target market is high-income earning businessmen/corporate slaves/CEOs/whatevers.

Precisely

7.30pm

. Totally Japanese to be punctual, a mini performance featuring Muramoto and some well-known Malay guy playing the guitar (I’m terrible with names. My bad) was held, as to give the audience, now starting to amass, samples from her album. Stunningly captivating flute playing, coupled with amazing hands dexterity of the guitarist, seemed to blow the crowd away, especially when she played her rendition of popular Malay songs, like “Awan Yang Terpilu” and “Getaran Jiwa” (made popular by Ning Baizura and P. Ramlee respectively). What a treat to my Pussycat Dolls-infected eardrums!

8.15pm.

We entered the hall to our seats, on the second floor, not far from the VVIP Seats. The only VVIP that we did spot was Ako Mustapha, whom seems to have gained pounds by the extremely chubby cheeks (I swear, my hands felt like attacking those round cheeks and pulling them sideways / diagonally / vertically).

Chubby cheeked celebrity aside, the show started around

8.40pm

. I seriously did not expect myself to be highly entertained, especially by a ‘drum concert’. This is a first for me, probably for most of the other members of the audience as well. Yet, when the first performance by two male drummers banging a VERY huge Taiko drums with such passion and energy, I was excited out of my socks! Following suit, was the Hono-o-Daiko all-female group, all three clad in silky white kimonos, drumming smaller drums with such grace and power that continued to enthuse the audience. For the next hour, the Hono-o-Daiko drummers gave lively drumming, which seem to match the energy of the all-male Tokyo Dageki Dan group, which also shook the atmosphere of the auditorium with their highly synchronized and clever beats. I couldn’t contain my enjoyment even when a 15-minute break followed soon after.

9.30pm

it was, and the 15-minute break was used wisely by the audience to munch on overpriced sandwiches and drinks (no food or beverage were allowed into the auditorium), ‘paying a trip’ to the toilet, or simply chatting about how amazing the first half of the performance was. I did all the above, and was overly excited like a boy watching a circus performance for the first time. Maybe “WWF/TNA Wrestling for the first time” in the context of today’s children.

9.40pm

was when the announcement “The show will resume in 5 minutes. Please take your seats” came out. The Hono-o-Daiko trio once again gave a few interesting numbers that was equally as enjoyable as the ones in the first half. Yet it was the boys of Tokyo Dageki Dan’s amazingly synchronized and comic 3-men wood rice container (or something like that) battering performance that left the audience in stitches and awe. Oh, if only words could describe the concert! Another captivatingly beautiful performance was the combination of the flute, Taiko drum, and (surprisingly) the gamelan, which sort of brought back the audiences back onto solid ground after the exciting pieces before this. It was nothing short of mesmerizing, even though my friend said it was a tad boring and sleepy – hey, it was ten something, and we did stroll around KLCC for nearly 5 hours.

At the end of the show, the final number was a collaborative performance between Hono-o-Daiko and Tokyo Dageki Dan, with them jumping about to a rhythmic beat, which got the crowd clapping in unison. I seriously felt like getting to my feet and dancing around, like what audiences in the West would do, but I guess since the audience were Malaysians, everyone else were seating. Some even took the chance to leave early, and some didn’t bother to clap. What a spoilsport, the crowd, or else I’d totally enjoyed myself. Anyway, the crowd, who were definitely entertained, showed appreciation by giving a loud round of applause to the performers, who bowed with pride and honour. Some people, like myself, gave a standing ovation, notwithstanding there were too few of us. I didn’t care, because I simply LOVED the concert!

10.45pm

– picture snapping time! With the stream of people making their way out of Istana Budaya, climbing down the stairs while talking non-stop about the awesome performance, even me and my friends couldn’t contain our excitement. Definitely didn’t regret being part of the highly memorable show.

Now where do I sign up for the Hono-o-Daiko and Tokyo Dageki Dan fan club?

27/1/2007, 4:25am

No wait is as anxious as a Medic student counting the days to his/her Medical Interview

(Well, maybe except for a young husband feeling nervous as hell, waiting outside the delivery room 9 months after saying “I Do”)

My fellow seniors in college have started to be called for medical interviews from overseas universities of their choice. The interview, for medical and dental students applying for a place in universities from UK, Ireland, Australia, and/or New Zealand, is normally held locally be it in 5 star hotels or in meeting rooms in college, but some UK interviews do require the applicants to come over to the university itself. If one impresses the interviewers, who are usually Professors and representative officers of the respective universities, one will be sent a conditional offer. This means that the candidate is secured a place in the school of medicine/dentistry, be it that they satisfy the academic requirement (eg. score a certain minimum score/grade in the final examination, which will be sitting for in May 2007).

For UK applicants like me, we are required to apply to 4 universities of our choice. It is not uncommon for some students not to be called for all 4 interviews, as each year the universities receive around 2000-3000 applications from both within United Kingdom and from around the globe. Each university has limited allocated places for intakes every year, especially for entry into the Medicine course. As for international students, the competition is even much fierce, because the universities only reserve around 5-20 places for foreign students. The selection of candidates to be called for interview is based on the Personal Statement submitted by the candidates, as well as academic and non-academic criteria that may vary according to universities.

So far, I consider myself lucky since I’ve been called to 2 Medical interviews out of all the 4 universities I applied to, which are University of Southampton, University of Nottingham, University of Newcastle, and King’s College London. My first interview that happens to be for University of Southampton will be tomorrow, which is on the 18^th of January, at 2.50pm. The second is an interview with the representatives from University of Newcastle, on the 24^th of January, at 3.00pm. Even the thought of being called for an interview is confusing – a mish-mash of excitement, enthrallment, and anxiety. A stream of questions floods my mind, like:

WhAt iF I, LiKe, sAy soMetHinG so, LiKe, NeaNdertHal n’ duMb tHat maKes mE, like, sOuNd sTuPid?

What if I st-st-st-st-stutter and t-t-t-t-tumble up-p-p-pon my ans-s-swers?

What if I mumble like a mouse and speak like I have a lump in my throat?

Anything could happen. *shudders*

My only concern is that the interviewers ask me something out of my knowledge, like “What do you know about the evolution of protein in the H5N1 bird flu virus that causes the mutation of it’s structure?” Riiight. Or stuff that I know but cannot remember. I know, I have a small ‘RAM’ size in my brain. If I were a laptop, I’d probably have only 128Mb of DDR1 RAM.

Gold fish memory. Ehehehe.

Anyways, (do I always go off topic or what?) I am still grateful that I received 2 calls for interview, because by being hand-picked out of the thousands of applicants and invited to a Medical interview is a sign that my personal statement is good enough. And now I have the chance to show my enthusiasm and colourful personality, and what’s more to prove I am a worthy of a placement in their Medical school. I am 3 steps closer towards achieving my dream of doing the BM Bachelor of Medicine degree in United Kingdom, which is world-widely known for top notch universities and quality education. The 2 remaining steps would be receiving a conditional offer letter, and the last step to reach is scoring the at least the minimum points required in my IB Final Exams in May 2007.

*shudders again*

Being so close yet seemingly so far to my dreams have never been so enticingly anxious.

Pray I don’t say or do anything stupid. J

17/1/2007, 8:57PM

Who said only girls are mean?

So you’ve seen girls bitching around each other in ‘Mean Girls’ (the memorably and wickedly funny flick starring Linsday Lohan), or just about any typical movie involving raging-hormone adolescent girls. Big deal.

Enter the real life world of ‘Mean Boys’ – starring me, my close friends, and an antagonistic guy from South.

This moronic friend happens to be quite close to me. Now you might wonder why I’d describe a friend to be ‘moronic’ as friends aren’t supposed to be saying bad things about each other, especially in such grand splendour over the ubiquitously wide internet-land. But this guy, he just makes me plain mad. And ‘mad’ is such an understatement. He’s infuriatingly annoying to the bone to the point his irritating ness feels like nails scratching against my very bones. Argh!!

ANYWAY, (before I get carried away bad mouthing this so-called friend of mine) he claims to have a ‘split personality’ whenever he’s around me & another poor friend of mine (whom also find his annoying ways nearly as equal to the scratching-nails analogy). 30% of the time, he (whom we shall call ‘Z’) appears to be a normal friend – frequently coming over to my place, hunting for DVDs to watch (pirated movies of course, nothing hanky-panky), finishing up my water/food supply, talking about stuff. And the remaining 70% is where his ‘true colours’ seem to be flaring – my friendly enquiries are met with rude responses, which to my chagrin is a source for amusement for him; he NEVER seems to be saying ‘Thanks’ after borrowing my stuff or eating my food or me doing him a favour; he excessively take pride in his everything – his so-called muscular physique, his ‘taller than average’ height (at 175cm, someone tell me does he REALLY have anything to brag about?), his ‘cutely boyish-slash-attractive’ face, etc. AND at the same time belittling my gut, my ‘midget height’, and my ‘metal teeth’ (maybe from where he’s from, he’s never heard of the word ‘Orthodontic Braces’).

If this isn’t the definition of the friend from hell, I don’t know what is.

Yet, he seems to be bothering me most of the time, as if we’re the closest of friends. Occasionally he’d share his experience growing up as a fatherless kampong boy of 11 elder siblings. I’d usually find it interesting that he seems to know how to do very basic but acquiring skill & practice stuff – he can cook (Johorean cuisine seems to be his flare), he sewed up a ‘baju Melayu’ with the help of this mom (I can’t even stitch up an unhooked button back into place), and he knows a lil’ bit of reflexology and traditional medicine (he helped relieved the pain on my ankle when I injured it wall climbing about a month ago). He seems to be sharply dressed anytime, anywhere (seeing him going to class everyday is like watching a fashion show!), and to top it all off, he can dance a traditional Johorean dance called ‘Zapin’.

Too perfect for a 19 year old guy?

The make-girls-melt appeal that seems to be getting him anonymous messages and requests from girls to ‘get to know him’ seems to be useless to him since he already has a faithful girlfriend whom he met during his high school years back in down South.

So why am I still friends with this jerk-cum-perfectionist-from-tip-to-toe?

I have no idea. No matter how mean he is to me, he’d sometimes make it a point to tell me that underneath those layers of mean-ness, he really appreciates our friendship, only he doesn’t know how to show it. Many a times I’d angrily dismiss these words as bullshit (if someone treats you like shit, do you expect to easily forgive him when he says such thing? I don’t think so). And I still do think he’s full of crap.

But over the months of contempt and bitterness, I’d learn that some friends just can’t help themselves from having a certain attitude towards someone he appreciates and is close to, especially in the case of friends like Z who has problems showing his appreciation (guys with their egos, is it of any wonder?). And the fact that he keeps coming over and messaging shows that he really means what he said about him truthfully cherishing our weird friendship, even if it’s hard to believe. You just know.

After all, he ain’t that bad – he can detect whenever I’m having a shitty mood and he’s not ashamed to ask me why, and offer some advice and consolation. And the times when he’s not being a mean asshole to me, I enjoy hanging out and playing sports together. At least he knows how to be a friend, unlike some of my other friends who just don’t seem to get a clue or care about my being.

Friends should learn to appreciate the good qualities of their friends, and forgive the shortcomings that came with the package. No one is perfect, right?

I’d appreciate it if any Hollywood moviemaker, who magically happened to be reading this blog, to give Linsday Lohan and her ‘Mean Girls’ flick a run for their money and produce ‘Mean Boys – The Movie’.

As if.

9.56pm

,

15/1/2007

Sometimes you don’t notice that you have people who care for you.

Have you ever felt that feeling of loneliness where you feel life is not worthy of living, and it depresses your mood, makes you glum and sigh?

Have you ever wondered why you bite your lips in envy at the sight of a couple, lovingly cuddling each other, exressing love for each other without a single worry in their little minds, wondering why that can’t be you?

Have you ever wondered why the friends around you, who can’t always be there for you, are just not enough to feed your social hunger, and all you feel is shallowness inside, yearning for something more?

You are not alone.

You are never alone.

Sometimes,

it’s hard to see how your caring parents are always by your side in times of sadness,

Sometimes,

we are blind towards the kindness and warmth friends around you share without wanting anything in return,

Sometimes,

it is the simplest thing such as faith in God,

Who appears invisible in sight,

but Omnipresent in your heart,

Who lends you every single thing around you,

that can fend off your loneliness.

Believe,

that you are not alone.

And you will never be alone.

2:12PM, 10/1/2007

Final exam 5 months away - and I still can’t believe the holidays are even over!

I just spent my 4 weeks of semester holidays doing lotsa stuff, ranging from awesomely fun (sleeping like a baby for hours, eating lotsa food, watching movies till I puke, rollercoaster ride @ Genting Highlands, eating more food, ice skating @ Sunway Pyramid, wall climbing till I injured my ankle.. did I mention eating yet?) to meaningful (quality time with family, made new amazing and wacky friends) to beneficial (volunteer work @ MERCY warehouse, helped out my mom with house chores, learned to play the guitar) to extremely dull and boring (wasting my time lazing around, trying to do work but opt to do it tomorrow, which was postponed to the day after, and the week after that.. and now my work still has not been completed).

Everyone knows the saying "Time waits for no man". True enough, time has been passing me by so quickly, that I cannot believe that I’m almost 19 when years ago I longed to be 18 so I can watch 18SG movies (not 18SX! Oh, you perverted people :P); or that I’m dued to be interviewed for my medical school application this month when it seems only yesterday I decided to choose medicine as my life career; or that my final exam, which can make or break my opportunity to fly to UK to read medicine, which has always been my dream eversince I can remember, is only 5 months away, when it seems like only yesterday I was jumping in utter joy when I received the offer letter to do the IB (International Baccalaureate) diploma, which I’ve been eyeing since my days in boarding school. It all just happened so fast. I’m still barely digesting all this. And worst of all, I’m still ill-prepared for my final examination!

So should I panic? Hide under my bed and shiver in fear? Run away to some country I can’t even pronounce the name and start a new life as a beggar?

Or stop procrastinating and hit the books?

The latter seems like a better idea (though the former is awfully much easier to do). Quitting my procrastinating habit is like telling a teacher to stop teaching, or a smoker to stop smoking, or Michael Jackson to stop molesting underaged boys. Not that I care if he did molest underaged prepubescent boys.. but that’s not the point! It’s hard. Super, DUPER hard.

Am I giving reasons? Running away from the problem instead of solving it? Believe me, I’ve tried numerous ways (and ‘numerous’ is an understatement) to un-procrastinate myself.

Just hope I won’t screw up my last step. This is the last ‘obstacle’ I have to overcome before I can officially become a medical student studying in a prestigeous medical school. Lord help me please!