Friday, August 26, 2011

This would be the third week I have been at home in Kuala Lumpur.

Come to think of it, this could be the longest period I've ever been at home since my undergraduate years, where usually the semester break may reach up to more than a month and a half long. Life after graduation saw me living by myself in UTP as I continued my study back in 2008, where I mostly spent my days in laboratories and the likes, very less likely at home. 

And this three weeks could be the longest three weeks in my life. 

Nothing much happened at home, really, other than me completing my thesis writing every sleepless night all by myself. Although I've tried to make my life here rather interesting, it seemed not to happen as I most anticipated. Following a few surprising failures, I started to think that maybe this place is not quite right for me to be at this current moment, or perhaps for long.

Maybe this isn't where I belong.

Perhaps I live better alone, no? Come to think of it again, my life in UTP wasn't all bad. No, it wasn't bad at all. Apart from the setback that I live all by myself, I feel freer there. Not to say that I am imprisoned here at home, but there are some things I usually did in UTP but I cannot simply do here i.e. blasting the speakers, reading all day long etc. Well I don't know. Perhaps I prefer living by myself better. 

No people. No commitment. No worries. No need to please and be pleased. No need to lie and be lied upon. No need to communicate. Utter silence. No words. No smiles. No frowns. No love. No hate. Just stillness. Coldness. Long darkness. Unfulfilled. Empty. No good feelings. No bad feelings. Indifference. Endless coffee stream. Flaming cigarette burns. Tantric music in the background. No surprises. No promises. Nothing. Nothing at all. I can do whatever the hell I want without subjecting to anybody's criticisms nor sensitivity. 

What is wrong with me? I don't know. 

Maybe I think too much. Or maybe I worry too much. I lost my calmness. I lost content. Maybe I know too much. Maybe I tolerate too much. Maybe I care too much too. Well what do I know, what do I do? Everything seems to always be wrong to you. Maybe I don't deserve this. Well who knows? Maybe I deserve worst than what this life so far shows. 

I miss my small, decent crib in UTP. 

That place doesn't have much, anyway. But it has so far supplied me with generous happiness to ease my endless sorrow, and a wholesome of companion to fill my lonely days. Strange, just when a lot of people miss home, I miss my room. Perhaps to me, that room is home? Maybe it is. I hardly feel sick there. Let alone getting heartbroken. There's nothing else I crave for now than the love that place usually has in reserve for me. Because they said home is where the heart is. 

Well, maybe it's about time to finally head home.

* * *

We have done a lot of growing up,
We were never meant to be together.
Without You by Hinder; Universal Records; 2008.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Hello everyone.

As you now may have realized, this blog's URL has been changed to its new domain. Although this change has been anticipated since the very beginning of this blog, the plan has been entirely neglected at all time mainly due to two things: the author was broke and the author was lazy.

But now finally it has changed.

Thanks to two people who reminded and helped me out with the change. Miss Devreny 'Dev' Disin came out with the idea that later reminded me about the long lost plan while Mr Shibli 'Shibble' Nuqman helped me out with the domain and the entire blog setting. Thanks a lot you two.

I hope that this blog will remain as educating, entertaining and amusing as ever, and I thank you all for the supports I have received so far. If not because of you loving fans (and curious foes), this blog will never receive much attentions like it did. Keep supporting and keep reading, alright? And keep up with the constructive criticisms and suggestions. Lets make this page better and better each day, me and you.

Love you all! XOXO!

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

I have a lot to spend my money on but the thing is that I don't have that much money.

Quite a problem there. 

Looking around myself, it has really been a while since I shopped for gadgets. Some of them really need to be replaced for their prime time has long gone. 

I still use my old HTC Touch 3G that I bought using the cash I was able to stash up after a breakup years ago -- one of the time I felt so filthy rich -- until today. The phone has experienced some nominal damages although I really took care of it at all time. The wear and tear effects start to show, and perhaps the phone is only able to serve for no more than a year from now, perhaps 6 months max. 

My camera is still the same old Panasonic Lumix FZ-18 that I bought sometime in 2008, I think, or maybe earlier than that. The camera is still good as new, but following a hard knock from an accidental drop sometime at the end of last year, it started to give signs of incompetence during assignments. From the look of it the camera can still last for long, although I really hope I could replace it with a latest version of Lumix sometime soon.  

What else?

I still use the PC I had since 2003 but has since been upgraded from time to time. It is now running on Windows 7 and is very stable although at times I have pushed it to almost its limitations for heavy AutoCAD renderings and computer games. I would like to have a good laptop sometime soon, much to its mobility, since to carry a CPU and a monitor and the accessories all around are defenitely not practical to, although still possible. With a laptop, maybe I can be more of a workaholic since I am able to work almost everywhere. 

I used to own some Mp3 players but they are all dead except for one which only turns on when a direct electricity supply is connected to it. I can say that that piece of junk is depending entirely on life support now. Maybe it's time to let go of all these old gadgets already. 

But then again I love my junks.

So many stories of my life they all carry together with me. The fact that these gadgets were (and some are still) my best friends during my loneliest and hardest times in life makes it more difficult for me to let them go. Although these entirely distasteful session of memories can usually be passed on when there is drinking involved, I just couldn't bear the facts that, all these junks, are actually the fucking love of my life. They are my native histories. 

They know what happened.   

I am also in the need for a new watch if possible. But then again I need to save up for my future; the wedding, life after campus, for sustainable and maintainable lifestyle, for this and that. I can't just go out and spend my hard-earned money just like one lets out an explosive diarrhea during one rainy midsummer morning. I have so much other things to save for. 

Some says that, "well, why don't you spend now and save up when you get your first salary?"

Frankly, if I follow that example, when my first salary pops in my account, the first thing that will cross my mind is the, 'well, why not spend now and save up the second salary?'. And it goes on. Whoever practices (and advises me) this, you have been a good stock for the capitalist world -- the same reason why you are forever poor and have so many debts to keep up with and so many spending to do right when you get cash in your hands. 

I can just be selfish and (spoiled?) now and get myself all the shiny blings-blings and the fancy thangs of the new world and impress the people around me with all the good, brand-new things that will be out of fashion by the end of next week, and lose everything in the end. 

Or maybe I can just save up now (although this sounds rather pathetic) and spend the cash later on when I am making more money. That way perhaps I can love my savings better, and I can have more time with all my old time junks that are definitely, frankly, irreplaceable.

Damn irreplaceable.

p/s: call me a cheapo, but we both know I'm richer than you are.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Thursday, August 04, 2011

It was around this time of the year when the nickname Mighty Jacksparrow first made its public appearance in the year 2003. 

It has been some time since I promised many that I will one day unveil the real story behind the creation of the nickname that I have been using for a long eleven-year run; quite a time too long to make the name represents my being in the digital world. 

It first started with the name Jack. 

* * *

There was this girl. 

She was hell of a girl, really, in the eyes of the 18 years old me. Back in the days when the internet was scarce and the cars were easily countable in the campus, my few friends and I used to spend the nights sitting by the drain located in front of our residential blocks, eyeing on young ladies making their way home from night classes. And so it happened that one day she walked across in front of us, and all chattering died in an instant, for what we just saw was entirely heartwarming. There a girl so pleasingly charming melted the hearts of us young men, and without a sound we all admired her from afar. 

At the time, young and foolish as I was, I had troubles approaching women. 

I was quite the opposite of what I am today; I was terribly shy and I often imagine that the day I converse with a girl will be the day Malaysia wins the World Cup. Some of these friends of mine, realizing that among all them I was the only one who paid real attention to the girl mentioned previously, placed a bet: if I could win the heart of that lady, then I shall be the shepherd of the group. 

Poorly equipped and low in confidence, I gave it a try. Long story short, I ran back with my tail in between my legs and to add more insult to the injury, those friends of mine greeted me with none other than explosive laughter. But in the end they were all supportive; so supportive that they gave me the nickname 'Jack', as to remind us the day that I was rejected by the lady we all admired from afar. 

"Well at least you have the balls for it, however small," they joked, followed by laughter all night long. 

* * *

Everyone knows that Jack Sparrow is the star in Disney's Pirate of the Caribbean. Contrary to the common perception, I did not get the name from him. In fact, I only knew about Captain Jack Sparrow in 2005 when I first watched the movie. Pretty darn late for it, actually.

I used to spend my time watching one of the avian variety commonly known as the sparrow. 

These sparrows, they used to give our cafe some heavy visits during lunch hour that within minutes after a table was emptied, they came and swarmed the entire table's perimeter and filled their guts with all the leftover food. For some certain reasons, I used to admire these birds greatly (yes, of all the other birds) because as human are entirely dumbfounded by other magnificent-looking birds, the sparrow seems not to receive quite the attention. I used to buy bread and pinched them into small pieces before throwing at those hungry sparrows, and within days the sparrows recognized me as the harmless, loyal provider. 

Tim, one of the higher member of the Mutton Curry Gang, addressed me as 'captain' because at the time, I was the only one within the gang with a car. And by captain he meant an aviation pilot, not a marine captain, thanks to my then and still obsession with aviation technology. When others heard him calling me captain, they thought he referred me as Captain Jack Sparrow.  

With all these coincidences collided, the name Sparrow became attached to me. 

* * *

Year 2005.

A week after Raya, I was down with a very strange fever. This fever got me shivering at all time day and night, even when I was already under a thick blanket with the ceiling fan off. It was during our final examination period, and my friends had to drag me all the way to the examination hall to go for my papers. 

Three doctors misdiagnosed me in the duration of eight days, all of them were in agreement that all I had was a common tropical fever. Little that they knew that I was at the time struggling with dengue fever that my friends and I only knew when we hit the door of the last doctor which was the Pantai Puteri Medical Center, Ipoh. We arrived at 8.15pm that night before my last paper, and I was admitted instantly because my conditions were pretty bad. There were only 30,000 platelets left in my blood out of the normally 150,000 to 450,000 platelets in a microliter of blood. Had it drop to lower than that, I would have been facing the grim reality that my chances of survival will be equal to a common housefly to survive through a heavy mist of Ridsect. 

It took me five days to be able to recover fully. Pints of water were continuously supplied into my blood stream and I was bedridden all time. Loneliness bit me slowly during that time since I was warded in a single room with no other occupants. No one came to visit because I told my friends not to make it into a commotion, except for some very close friends of mine. It was not until the last night before I was discharged when a nurse knocked on my door and asked if she could make me a company. 

She was a young Indian nurse that just went through some very sad moments in life. We spent the night talking and sharing stories until early morning when she excused herself to check on other patients. Before she left, I told her to be strong, and her reply was, "and you must be mighty"

And I became mighty. 

* * *

The real reason why I did not open up about how the nickname Mighty Jacksparrow was created was merely because I could not face the public's view about the rejection I received from the girl I admired so much back then. 

But as I came to term with it, I realized that if it was not because of that rejection, I may still be the shy, frightened boy who will never have what it takes to greet a girl with a simple, warm hello. Maybe I wouldn't be able to make some people to have had me at hello, and still. Maybe I will never grow up appreciating women nor will I perfect the art of communication with them. Had it not because of the rejection, I may still be the lame, nerdy me that every Tom, Dick and Harry could have made themselves into easily. 

Mighty Jacksparrow reminds me of all the hardships I went through in life and the lessons I learnt from them, and most importantly, what the name made me into. Today I am an entirely a different person who has not even a difficulty to greet any man and woman whether in the digital or the real world. Today I am proud of what I am, and I can never feel any better than this. No regrets, just pride and dignity. I'm proud I did that mistake, and I'm proud I didn't hesitate. 

Otherwise, if i didn't do it, who would've written you all the wonderful stories like I did?

p/s: happy 8th birthday, Mighty Jacksparrow. 

Monday, August 01, 2011

It really has been a while since I last did my photography.

Some of the lessons I learnt and the skills I once acquired have been lost, if not forgotten and rusting. A hobby I took since I was small, photography actually taught me a lot of things in life -- some of them cannot be learnt off books nor be heard about.

I'm slowly coming back to this old forgotten hobby just to make sure I keep my sanity at bay whenever life hits hard at times.

These pictures were taken at the KL Bird Park. I personally don't really like some of them for they lack of a lot of things -- color tone, lighting, composition, pose etc. -- but I share them here nevertheless.

Please click to enlarge. Enjoy.

* * *