Firdauz takes 5

And 2008, felt just like yesterday. And if i remember correctly, yesterday, i was happy, mostly.

And not so broke.

Life, used to be special, i guess. It used to ….. ermmm satisfy. And it was damn easy too.

You know what went wrong? I grew up. That’s what went wrong. That’s what went terribly wrong.

So, I’m learning again, slowly, to find happiness again through the simplest thing in life : masturbating.

And sleeping, i guess.

I don’t know why some people get cancer, but they get that, and if you ask me, they don’t deserve it.

Stop cancer from touching the flesh of all the good people. Stop it. Period.

Let’s hope this is not the final entry. Should it be, I hope it becomes an avenue that people seek for some good guidance, InsyaAllah.

– Raden Galoh of onebreastbouncing

Another good person, a fighter, died of cancer.

Well, i hope you’ll like it. Remember when you told me you wanted a happier life — a car and a house and a wife and two cats, well have you gotten any? How’s life anyways, you’ve been gemuk aren’t you Firdy?

Talk to me sometime yeah. I’ll be you’re friend, no matter what you have and don’t.

Friends forever, older Firdy. Love, lots of love. Signed, Original Firdy, (before you became someone else).

How often people call me wanker even though i never got caught. And more often than not, i surfed porno sites to get the vision, the wild feeling of being on a mission of finding the chemistry of being sexually stimulated.

I talk crap, but i tell you truth, the whole truth of who i am.

Not in a shy way, i admit i’m an avid wanker. I do this on a regular basis: i wank, i go to sleep. I wake up the next day, no different than the shitty person i am.

How la, i so sad =(

For reasons i can’t tell, it’s no secret i like to talk things that never relate to anything.

So, i thought one day i’d become a professor. I wrote this in a buku laporan under cita-cita and filled them with so many red colours, the shades of my mom’s scolding and the colour of what i’ve become.

I’ve become too amusing, to myself. I laugh, and i laugh forever.

Suet Lee is back. And according to the law of gravity, she weighed less on the moon. Though she might float on fresh water, and that is extraordinary, her waist circumference may not be used as the golden measurement to build any nautical flotation device.

I mean like, come on guys. So what she’s fat. She has feelings! Yeah she has tummy, she’s not a kangaroo!

Wankers. Pffft.

that religion, for each one of them, is an idea — it’s a thought — men produce when they do not know the truth, and are lacking of any real evidence.

So, they simplify.

There was a supreme being, who created everything.

There was a man, and he had a wife, and we are the offspring of this lovely couple.

Simple idea, but powerful and emotionally moving, and quite frightening when the supreme being they create, is also the only one who is able to do so much harm to you, in an afterlife, if you don’t listen to His demands.

His demands can really be as simple as “never-ever doubt Me, for the evil ones are relentless.”

There is a real evidence that, theologically, i’m the evil one, and yes, is relentless to find out the truth, and suggests others to do so.

So, what’s the truth then? Men of course, didn’t come from the upper regions of a mythical place of joy. There’s not even a single evidence of that. We came from the biological evolution of genetic information. Plenty of evidence.

It’s a tragedy that we all know how genetics plays a crucial role in life, yet, we want to believe there was a poetic beginning: There was a man from a mythical land of joy, and he had a wife, they did something bad — ate a forbidden fruit, didn’t brush the teeth, or something like that — and were sent to earth, and we are their offspring.

It’s kind of a fucked up place to live, but yeah, after we die ah, if we follow whatever the Man says ah, we go back to the mythical land of joy loh.

Don’t do that. Don’t believe. Think.

Life can be a joy too, here, in this godforsaken place.

Everywhere; in a train, in a cab, — while walking –, in a bus, in a city full of — hehehe, i do not know how to complete this sentence, so i’m gonna write the first awkward word that comes to my mind instead, i hope — people, wandering and wondering about things, and i’m no different from them, often i wondered about getting killed. Trains colliding head-on, I die.

Angry man on a speeding bike, draws a gun, shoots me and the cab driver, I die.

Bus happily hits the concrete shoulder of a flyover, i try to save a girl that would later be my girlfriend, but before i could find any girl i like in the bus miserably, i die.

The stories that i often tell to my sorry self are the stories of where i die, before i know how everything ends.

Dying seems — perhaps, i miss home. In where i actually originated from.

***

A diary, of today’s, of the first person who spoke to me

Sara offered me a green plate with a slice of a birthday cake on it, “It’s clean,” she nervously asked, “Do you want this cake? It’s clean,” and repeatedly assured, “It’s clean.” I thanked her with a confident thank you and a smile and wasn’t really sure what kind of a wrong person i projected to her that she had to sound so nervous about a slice of cake.

How really kind people can be. To make an effort to offer a slice of a birthday cake even to a person she thought might decline.

“Happy birthday Robb,” was what seemed appropriate to say while eating the cake.

Later that evening,

Vernice was selecting the right bottle — the correct blue water drum to be replaced for the hot-cold water dispenser — and i quickly zipped my ugly self with a black sweater and did the manly job: replacing the water drums.

Nobody likes to see a fat kid lifting a water drum. So the black sweater had made the evening seem more appropriate.

I watched what i thought i really liked

And i liked it a lot.

Fresh, another Leo

I asked Fresh when her birthday was, thought of a perfect gift and later changed my mind — waiting for her birthday to arrive could be a boring experience since i already had the list. 4 movies for her to watch — i thought of getting her the DVDs.

• The Hours (2002)
• The Time Traveler’s Wife (2009)
• Revolutionary Road (2008)
• The Private Lives of Pippa Lee (2009)

Those are the movies i appreciate for what they are but don’t quite enjoy as much as my girlfriend, Anis does. Somehow, i could always relate Anis with Fresh: their interests and likings.

Veen Dee and her artwork

I thought thats a good start. To never be afraid to start drawing.

With Michelle, i’m always too honest and say things i wouldn’t say to others

She had good intention, though perhaps no experience with heating up pizzas with a microwave, she made it sound like it was really an easy job.

She had good intention and overly dried, hardened slices of pizza.

I don’t remember saying thank you, i may have said it but anyways, thank you, dear. Next time don’t be so overly confident with things you’re not so sure of.

On a second thought, i blame the microwave. Stupid microwave.

Shun Yau, who introduced me to simple programming

I’m no programmer but i enjoy dabbling in javascript, — as long as it’s easy to be done and exciting — and for every javascript, we all used jQuery as the framework. It came to a situation where i needed to make a slider work in reverse.

Move a slider from left to right and its value is from 0 to 100. Put the slider on the far left, and the value is 0. Move it to the far right, it’s 100.

I needed to reverse that. Visually, the only creative solution i could think of was using CSS3 transform for modern browsers and DXImageTransform.Microsoft.Matrix filter for stupid IE, but boy, that’s cheating.

I told Shun Yau about it and he said, “You actually can make a 100 become 0 and a 0 become 100, using a simple formula.”

“Really? How do i do that yeah?” i asked.

“You see, when you move a slider to far right, it’s value is now 100, right?”

“Uhuh,”

“You minus that with 100 and multiply by -1. You see 99 minus 100 is negative one and negative one times negative one is one.”

I worked out the math;

(X – 100) x -1 = the new reversed value

so, if X is 100;
(100 – 100) x -1 = 0 (the new value of X)

and if X is 0;
(0 – 100) x -1 = 100 (the new value of X)

Thanks to Shun Yau, the slider works in reverse now. Such magic and how i’m still fascinated by simple math.

***

Of course, every story of mine begins with me fantasizing to die. And if i die, i’d like to be cremated and my ashes buried without any headstone. I like a terrific quick death — by that, i mean fantastically tragic, most awesome — and a simple and quiet afterlife, not that i believe in any, just you know, if i die, i die, thats the end of it all.

But if i die too slow, and don’t get to die in the most awesome way of dying, i’d like to spend the last hours of my life with Anis, and alone with her.

Because dying with Anis on my side, means a lot to me. It could mean though i may have failed to learn the meaning of life, i may have failed to embrace the religion she always wished i would, i may have failed heaven and hell and everything in this life, but i will not fail her one thing. This particular failure, isn’t mine. If found, please return it to the nearest loser who may look like your current boyfriend, or an ex-boyfriend, assuming, you’re a girl stalking what i write before i die because you often wonder how low of an IQ does a stupid curly-haired boy have. It’s actually pretty low.

I will not fail to love her, until the last breath of my melodramatic life.

I will not fail to love what she loves, and if i don’t, it isn’t time for me to die yet. My life is a soap opera, best done theatrically. Best experienced without any logical and reasonable excuses other than what i feel, excessively.

And in my deathbed, i will find every strength to repair my dying soul and fix every injury and become her best friend.

And if she finds this funny and cheesy and ridiculous and unnecessary then it is what it is.

Funny things i write for tonight. I die, i die. I love, i love. What i like, i write. What i don’t, i wont. How stupid i can be sometimes. But i’m never clever to begin with.

in this life of mine, i really do not know what i need, or need to do.

So often, i give people what they demand for, and what they say they need. Login names, passwords, money, madness, my own freedom, reasons to hate me, sadness, virginity at least once, i gave them away, in hope that, i may learn a thing or two from doing so.

I never really learnt anything, actually.

Sometimes, it’s just so hard being alone and stupid. And during these silly times of mine, i’m often reminded of those good people and silly friends whom i may have hurt or lost contacts with.

One day when i actually learn a thing or two, i’ll bake a cake and share it with close friends and tell them, “hey, when you’re feeling dumb and lonely right, you let me know. I know what to do.”

I do not know what to do. I’m only 16, this year, my IQ is.

What i need, is a state of chaos; madness and guns and revenge, to be stimulated, broken and inspired.

How i miss you, little devil in me.

in reality, i had made myself amoeba-shaped pizzas, and a rose-orange drink. I ate them for lunch, for dinner, for every demonic plesiosaur who urinated in chlorinated water, happily for democracy, and freedom to hate crazy people like you.

Ah, how i was only an amateur, dabbling in life, forced puberty at 13, watched porno flicks at 12, had a cat, lost it, had another, father threw it away, but it came back a month after, and on a slow Sunday afternoon, in reality, i tried to bake myself some pizza from the bubbles of yeast and sugar and a cup of flour. A pinch of salt flavoured the dough like a tear does to a comedy.

Perhaps you’re crazy, i can’t relate so go away i like the tomatoes, oh the tomatoes tossed in a pan with extra virgin olive oil and roughly chopped garlic. And the leaves that i picked from the balcony — basil and rosemary; the insanity i’m avoiding from you, could have not made the sauce wonderful.

Because in the future, beyond flying saucers, a plesiosaur will not vote for a democracy.

In reality, you can urinate too.

and maybe i’m not good at saying it. So i’ve been keeping it quiet for too long.

I love you, and i don’t think it’s within my rights to tell you what to do with your life. As long as your conscience tells you that it’s right for you to live the way that you do, fine with me.

I give you money, and lend some to you out of compasion — on human grounds i believe one shall eat. One shall not miss his meals.

But when you took my last note, and i’m left with less than 10 bucks, when the last time i gave you a few hundreds was only 2-3 days ago, how am i supposed to feel about that?

Tell me, did you care to know how much money i’m left with or is it all you care about is your choice of living : laid off forever and happy for eternity? In just 3 weeks, i gave you more than a thousand. MORE THAN A THOUSAND in 3 weeks yet you had no forethought and took my last note from my wallet for a Starbucks with a friend?

You’re a nice person, the nicest among all i’ve known. So many good things about you. I know for a certain you will share whatever you have with me. You wouldn’t even consider to do what i’m doing right now : complaining, disappointed, hopeless even.

You would be strong for me. You would even find every possible way to help.

But look, we’re 2 different people. You’re the nicer one. I’m the least. Not that i’m calculative about the money. Money aside, your bohemian lifestyle aside, but let’s consider one of the most basic things in every healthy relationship between people : mutual respect.

If you have that, you wouldn’t be taking my last note from my wallet for a Starbucks with a friend.

Have some thoughts on that. Not that i want you to change the lifestyle : laid off forever and happy for eternity. Not that i want you to find a steady income because i can’t provide, or your very old mother can’t provide. But i want you to respect other human beings.

Respect, especially the people who care about you. Don’t steal from them. Don’t take their money without their permission. And if you like your bohemian way of living, don’t cause the suffering of other people from it –psychologically or financially –, by having to provide you with the finance, and to figure out how to do it constantly — so you can live a happy bohemian lifestyle : laid off forever and happy for eternity.

Simple things, isn’t it?

You’re much older than i am, shouldn’t you know this already?

See?

(But don’t tell anyone that i have no idea how i feel right now)

I need to kill a girl or many. Sharpen 300 riddles and stab them in the heart till they bleed poetry while i go to sleep happily, knowing that i may have won an easy fight.

Stupid girls. Stupid stupid stupid world.

There was a giant star outside my window that evening. I don’t really remember which evening it was, i found the picture from my camera, taken maybe by a giant squid from Mars, or it could be my girlfriend. But i do think that the latter would satisfy the ontological parsimony of William of Ockham’s better than the former if i were to become a philosopher of a giant squid, or the latter.

Such words are not only weird and dangerous but if you remember the latter is my girlfriend and everything is about a giant star outside my window and if you don’t wonder like how i wonder, then perhaps a picture from my camera.

Then perhaps, no giant squid from Mars to satisfy a funky desire.

Isn’t it nice to spend your weekend drawing and planning to do your own animation with your loved one(s).

I’ll be 30 this year. That makes me a very-very old pervert! Haha. But hey, like everyone else, i just don’t want to stop dreaming and doing what i like.

So, The mighty Roboyah! is next.

Have a great weekend yeah everyone =)

Hari ini, Abang Misai akan memceritakan sebuah cerita dongeng. Dengar ya. Duduk lah rapat-rapat sikit dengan Abang Misai. Tapi, tak boleh raba tau!

Pada suatu hari yang asing, pada pagi sebelum tengah hari yang asing, Abang Misai telah menerima email yang berbunyi seakan-akan asing. Abang Misai tidak pasti lagi.

Benarkah email ini terlalu asing untuk diriku? Diam Abang Misai seorang diri memegang …

“Wait yeah, i read my email first.” Kata Abang Misai kepada rakan yang mahukan perhatian, dan membaca email tersebut,

Say hello to our new colleague…

Oh, jadi ada staff baru. Seronoknya! Terus, baca lagi email tersebut,

…likes reading, likes outdoor activities, hates Firdy (maybe), hates Michelle (i think so!), vegetarian, collects stamps, and used to be a flight attendant.

Oh, flight attendant. Seronoknya! Tengok gambar — hampir-hampir mengucap dan masuk ke syurga mungkin kalau mati — dan terus bertanya untuk sepenuh kepastian.

“She was a flight attendant? She was in cargo issit? DHL?”

Tiada jawapan. Melihat kepada gambar tersebut, saiznya mungkin,

“FedEx maybe?”

“Firdy, you’re so mean!” Kata feminists-feminists sepejabat.

Cerita ini dongeng semata-mata. Tiada kaitan dengan mana-mana feminist yang bersaiz obese yang bukan bernama Michelle, mahupun ketua feminist yang sangat garang yang bukan bernama Fresh.

Berdasarkan kenyataan diatas, lengkapkan slogan dan alamat anda dan hantar ke 1800-200-namasayarahsia dan menangi hadiah berupa lelaki gemuk yang sedang mencuri tulang dari membuat kerja yang sepatutnya — seperti, memendekkan sesuatu yang panjang.