I woke up this morning to see cat shit the cat left in my bathroom sink.
I must admit it woke me up. Fast enough to ask myself if I had done something adventurous while sleep walking.
I don’t think it can be done while walking. Can it?
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I got this, one of many and frequent, from my cousin Shafiq who co-runs Gloria Jeans Mont Kiara.
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For homework, a class were asked to draw their parents at work. This is one of the drawings. Here’s the letter the teacher received the next day:
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Dear Mrs. Jackson,
I wish to clarify that I am not now, nor have I ever been, an exotic dancer. I work at X and I told my daughter how hectic it was last week after the floods hit. I told her we sold out every single shovel we had and then I found one more in stock and several people were fighting over who would get it. Her picture doesn’t show me dancing around a pole. It’s supposed to depict me selling the last shovel we had in the store. From now on I will remember to check her homework before she hands it in.
Sincerely,
X.
After a long day, as I am about to make a move for home, semiconsciously searching for something lighthearted to generate what I call, a smile state of mind, I found myself searching for this song before beginning my journey.
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Similar to what I have in mind.
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I suppose like you, I suppose, I didn’t think that at 25, I’ll be importing a piece of custom made furniture, built according to my design.
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Do you know how when you see in movies, a person is suffocated to death by the murderer covering the victims face with a pillow? It doesn’t work if you have a sizeable nose. To the humour, (frustration) and fascination of two people not too long ago.
‘Dei brudder, bini aku buat kueh tiga hari tiga malam, sampai tak sedar bontot melecet.’
-Anon
Not the envelope in question. This was a birthday present sent by PA when she was in Peru, which surprisingly (at least) arrived on the month of my birthday, despite the treatment she got from the postal office. Note the precaution on the address, which I find hilarious, underlined 'MALAYSIA, ASIA.'
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Recently, someone dropped off a CD for me at a restaurant. My cousin picked it up on my behalf. Last night he narrated to me what took place.
I’m here to pick up a CD. It’s for Zain HD. It’s from X.
Oh? Hmmm…oh yea yea there’s a CD here. Who is it for?
Zain HD.
Oh. Hmm…I don’t know. Is it for Faris?
Faris?
Yea. It’s for Faris.
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No? Not for Faris?
No no. Zain HD.
Oh okay. I don’t know. Maybe this is it anyway. I guess. Here you go.
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We’re still wondering from where did he pluck the name Faris. The CD in question, was in a brown envelope with one thing written on it. ‘Zain HD.’
Wall tile in the Hall of the Ambassadors, the Alhambra. Pic fr Animah Kosai, responsible for the many book reviews I've read in the papers.
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A thought crossed my mind. One that relates to the title of this post. Shortly after I realise it also does relate doubly, as I noted to self there’s only one person I could aptly think of, to share it with. Thus I delivered it in a handphone text, and (to clear the pun) now here with you,
‘…this is the last night of terawih! I imagine you would get it, when at that thought, I say it calls for both a :( and a :)’
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Selamat Hari Raya.
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Waiting for the RA Reel (Draft) video by Chris Tock, to load before my presentation.
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Today after pretending/being all Mr. Hero Know It All by giving a talk on social media at a reputable ad agency, I rode my bike from KL to Shah Alam in the rain. It was not quite pleasing, considering I did not have my rain coat. It is even less pleasing as it rained throughout the whole journey. With only a few intervals whereby your clothes begin to dry up a little as your body quiver and shiver.
Literally beginning with my jaw, later arms and towards the end hips and thighs. Sometimes even feet.
Yanyways let’s move on to positive moments, as with positive thoughts which helped me well especially yesterday and today.
Yesterday, feeling lethargic with little sleep, day ahead full of meetings, I woke up with an episode. Let’s just call that sensation that.
Not long after leaving my house, at a roadblock after being screened, me and the policeman started chatting. It was the first time, he left with a smile and a sincere reminder to ride safe. For whatever reason, that reversed the outlook I had for the whole day. That was all it took. Had I remembered to wish him Selamat Hari Raya, it would have been perfect.
Exactly seven days ago, 31st August, the collective I am part of organised the Merdeka Train Party. Below, is a Note on Facebook written yesterday by one of the participants whom I recently got acquainted with.
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Team 3 sang, danced while holding back to our hunger and thirst till iftar.
‘Liberation of the mind is nurtured through constant practice of its ideal. One would not appreciate the value of freedom without embracing its moral sanctity. Our journey in life takes a sudden turn every now and then and least inviting is the hump which slows down the course of natural flow. Marking our sign of liberation by chanting Merdeka has been easier said than done as I witnessed the development of a National Day celebration prank into a social testament of the Rakyat.
The Merdeka Train Party organized by Random Alphabets was one of its few projects in engaging the masses to stand for the causes they identified with themselves and ideally share their conviction with the crowd. Marking as a sign of liberation the participants mostly represent the seed of our nation i.e. younger generation unites together in expressing their belief for ‘One Malaysia’. The method itself may strike as jovial yet what truly embodies them is the profound message of faith they share as an entity.
Working hand in hand to decorate the monorail as explained by the mastermind Zain HD, “we are decorating for a birthday party and it is Malaysia who is celebrating its birthday” in itself shows an understanding of our Independence Day where the experience of singing aloud to the patriotic songs and waving the flag may seem trivial except the fact one appreciates the message once it is embed in their soul throughout journey. This was how the Merdeka Train Party stood as a metaphor.
Malaysia is a cultural potpourri where its diversity should not be reasoned but instead lived by harmoniously. It is not hard to tackle the differences when the approach is by preaching tolerance. At heart it is easier to love than to hate when the ship of self righteousness is abandoned.’