Confessions of an unwell boy

Never walk in the rain, no matter how cool you may think you look like, it's not worth having your joints aching like a mutha. And do not ever doubt the power of an umbrella and its protective reach against Mother Nature's wroth.

It's taken me twice as hard to come up with half decent sentences for the past few months. I used to think I could spew out line after line of prose that would make any English teacher smile, even if I was down with flu. I even used to get rather pissy when someone corrects my work, especially my style. Not anymore. Bubble of confidence now has been burst. Now I'm left wondering, how the heck could I have been so arrogant?

Seriously speaking, I strongly believe that my writings have been rather under par lately. And i'm not just talking about my blog entries too. My college work is ultimately suffering because of my inability to come up with believable bullshit, which I SO NEED RIGHT NOW. Maybe it's the pressure, the fact that I am known as the Documentation King, the Walking Dictionary (I swear my grammar is so much suckier now) that's been so drilled deep into my skull that I may have left out HUMILITY. And being sick made me realize how incapable I was. I was helpless. I couldn't turn to anyone besides myself.

I have been humbled. I'm more willing than ever in correcting whatever flaws because I want to become a better man. So if you see me making a mistake, don't feel shy and correct me will ya?

Chris signing off...

PS: This will be my last entry for the time being. Deadlines are very aptly named. Fret not, if I have the urge to blog i'll definitely come up with something. So thank you all (all meaning 5 loyal readers but i'm truly grateful all the same) for reading and do take care. Happy Deepavali and Selamat Hari Raya to all my friends who celebrate. Until then, have a nice lunch.

Sitting on the throne of thought...

Everyone does it. Some take little to no time at all, while others do it for such a long time you'd think they're planning some scheme to take over the world. Some call it 'Go To Do Business', 'Post Office', 'Pusat Melabur', and my three favourites of all time; 'I Go Bomb', 'Laying waste to (insert random country)' and of course, 'Taking a dump'. I do mine when I get up every morning. What am I talking about, you may wonder? That's the TOILET for all you conundrum hatin' people.

And now before any of you yell in repugnance, "Disgusting la you Chris!", this here entry isn't about how one goes about doing his/her lavatory escapades, it's whether or not you're a Thinker or a Reader. I fall naturally under the former mainly because when my stomach REALLY aches, the last thing I want to do is grab the newspaper. Without fail my mind will proceed to wander; sometimes I think about things that had happened the day before, recounting tales of how I managed to stuff myself silly eating mixed rice or how my hot lecturer pronounces words wrongly yet says them with such confidence it almost sounds right.

Sometimes I look forward to my sojourn to the lavatory, it'll give me that time to finally sit down (I can't really um, do it, standing up yes?) and think, think of things I wish I want, need, love and hate and all in between. Some of my most brilliant ideas pop out (literally too...) when I'm in there.

So the next time when you're out of ideas, go ahead, try sitting on the throne of thought. You'll be amazed by the things you'll come up with. And 'come out' with as well.

Chris signing off...

PS: Funnily enough, I didn't get the idea to write this while I was going about doing my 'business'.

I am man, hear me um, burp?

The newpaper today came out with this very interesting article on gender. It revolved around a group of people in the good old land of stars and stripes (that be America, duh) who, when they feel like it, 'change' gender like it was their underwear. Or panties.

It's their choice. They feel like a woman one day then a "grrl" he becomes and if he feels like being a man again, he becomes a "boi". Don't worry, I was confused at first. It is as one girl succintly says, "You are what you feel".

I also don't see the big deal when it comes to someone's gender and their sexual preference. If they're gay then they're gay. God created them that way and so be it. Who am I to say that I am better than them just because I like people of the opposite sex. I do feel uncomfortable when some gays express their joy upon seeing my slitty eyes. Friends say that I'm gay because of the fact I keep myself fit (which isn't much so no need to fantasize about me ladies, though thank you all the same for thinking so :P) and that fit men are mostly gay.

I know me. I know that I love being a guy. I'm a twit with wit. I don't EVER see myself as a twit with wit and tits.

Chris(tine) signing off...

PS: Thank God I feel like a man, all the time.

I’ll drink a six pack of apathy tonight. While wearing leotards.

Recently the papers highlighted the fashion sense of Malaysians and one particular person who was interviewed put me in a fit of chuckles with her comments:

“I like to watch Jap shows to check out the latest fashions”. She looks like a reject Goth girl o'right.

But here's the clincher: "I don’t like to copy others”.

WTF? That's totally contradictory. Here we have this girl who thinks she's one of a kind when in fact, she's copying what she sees from the idiot box and then aspires to look like those featured in the said shows.

It got me thinking about my own sense of dressing. My sis calls it conservative. I call it not giving a rat's behind. I'll wear what I want to wear. I've been wearing the same three quarter pants for the past 3 years. Granted i'm a bit of a prude when it comes to fashion. But the fact is, the changes in fashion has no grip on my style consciousness (or the lack of one). At one point in my youth, I wanted to look like Fred Durst with the baggy three-quarter pants, the baggy tee, and the wallet chain of mine that really could have been used to lock up a factory in Malacca.

As most of you know(I think only 5 regulars actually read my blog but oh well), i'm from a college that requires students to wear like a working person because of their belief that once you graduate, you will straight away be sucked into some IT department, coding the latest program and drinking 4 litres of coffee everyday. So you would think I would go wild when it comes to my "normal" clothes right? Nope. These days I wear like an Ah Pek; three-quarter pants, some raggy tee, sandals and a cap. These are the things I could live with the rest of my life. With a bottle of gel for those days where the cap needs a break.

Maybe i'll start wearing neon pants, have my collar upturned and have hair that could impale an elephant. Maybe..

But could you imagine me like that?

Chris signing off...

PS: I hate jeans. Slacks all the way!