Liberation underachieved

Updating the blog poses itself to be a perennial problem since I last remembered, and it is becoming more and more of a hassle. I will not give an excuse as to why I find it a problem because that is what it is, an excuse. I realised it was a liberating experience walking out of the house without your undergarment, given the face that it does not seek to constrict or restrict one’s movement especially near the crotch and nether regions.

However, I know myself to be sexually imaginative generally as a person, and as one would have it, I can’t wear boxers for a simple fact I might just get sexually aroused without notice, and at embarrassing times at that. Imagine if I was on a pilgrimage and sporting an erected penis, given the fact that sewn garments are prohibited. Such thoughts are to be constantly suppressed I suppose.

My hair is becoming more and more difficult to maintain, and I have the urge just to give it a slight trim, however, that would rescind the fact that I kept this hair to serve as a personal statement of the self. Non-conformity, which has been associated with hippies and junkies, not to mention I fall under that particular strata of society.

When I mean non-conformist, I am referring to the need to adhere to social norms or civil law. Consider it a psychological disorder, but I think people like me see the need to bend the rules and circumvent it at our will and fancy. Going mainstream is just, in the simplest terms, wonderfully absurd and boring. Many do not realise that to judge what is normal is, firstly, subjective in every sense of the word, differing in localities, and secondly, what defines normal would be the presence of abnormality.

To be considered a believer, there needs to be an atheist. This continuous balance is always kept in check by the opposing reactions that any given situation might bring rise to. Perhaps with a bit more pondering, one may figure one what I’ve been trying to put across.

Chain. Events

The day’s chains of events were rather eventful, it being freshly etched in the dismal abyss of my mind. I had accompanied my father in the morning to the market; he being zealously excited over the birthday preparations of my younger sibling.

I had proceeded back home, hands full of groceries, and all things vile, not expecting that the later part of the day would be the saga. It was agreed that we would all be meeting up at Jalan Kayu for some alfresco dining, which of course dragged beyond what I expected. Whilst I had dutifully paid for my fair share of the meal, my friends, collectively decided to abandon the eating joint without any intention of paying for their, meals. I was about to rebuff their infantile objective, when I was almost caught dead in my tracks when I thought I heard someone say, ‘Pay. Pay. Pay. Pay.’ I was almost aghast and heaved a quick sigh of relief when I had actually misconstrued what someone else had said.

Taking the bus down to Sengkang Interchange wasn’t a sombre affair to begin with. I never liked sitting in the bus, and for obvious reasons. The whole idea was as revolting as the journey itself. On top of that, I was on the verge of relieving myself, right there in the confines of the bus. After what I thought was an endless voyage, I pulled over at the adjacent bus stop, alighting to find a restroom, which wasn’t anywhere in side.

Jason had deviously suggested we went of a spree of sorts, and as to what merchandise I would not divulge. It was utterly ludicrous an idea, for if we were nabbed by the relevant authorities, perhaps I would not have been writing this entry to begin with. He incredibly managed to pull the stunt off, and I wouldn’t deny I was being wimpy about it. We travelled all around the North-eastern areas of the country, and it was a rather exhilarating experience, not to mention the sights we saw, despite it being a bit shoddy to begin with.

Gosh

I was, or have been, physically and mentally fatigued by the almost ludicrous affairs of the week. It’s almost coming to the end of the semester, and a holiday would be most deserved, a move anyone, irrespective of organisational hierarchy would laud, especially so those entangled in the arduous journey of completing their diplomas.

Imbecility was something I could ever tolerate. Whilst making it explicitly clear that I do not indulge in chauvinism or bigotry for that matter, however, at times, circumstances are appalling beyond reasonable doubt, thus the need to condone the act of discrimination.

Keeping a subdued attitude doesn’t mean one have to tolerate nonsense. Had I possessed a double-barrel shotgun, it would be most probable I would have unleashed pandemonium and mayhem. Suppressing that sadistic and tyrannical nature perhaps isn’t always a good thing. I would have loved to view the ever abominable sight of watching the brains of an individual peering out their skull.

I won’t be giving too much of a commentary, for I am, as you would have it, exhausted. Well, Friday would be a day I am very much looking forward to. Extermination of.

Unkempt thoughts = Unsound cognitive process

Take a chill pill, that’s what they say. I have to strike a chord between the banality of evil, and the comforting, and familiarity of good. Oppose as it must, I suppose it keeps one sane, as it has me.

I believe I have paid my penitence which was long overdue, and that in good cause for the abominations and tyranny I had wrecked. It comes to those who do not seek it. My indifference, my intolerance, life certainly has played its wild card.

One knows. One listens. Yet one cannot convey his knowledge. It’s almost like a stigmatising dilemma to be put through. Favoured when useful, discarded when inept, balancing egos and emotions is a tedious and usually precarious task.

Polynesians should have been annihilated from the map of the world long ago. Their existence is no better than a thorn in the flesh, where my opinion is concerned. Indefinitely, the children of Abraham are the most exalted amongst creations, and also the most powerful.

What does it take to realise one is being circumvented? It needs to be literally expressed, yet laws forbid. Paradoxically, to understand pain, one must also know pleasure, for without the latter, there is no place for comparison, vice versa.

The stagnant feeling is killing. It is best one move away from sources of discomfort, for they bring no benefit, except to leech on resources. Perhaps, with absence, wounds will heal, and there should be no space for remorse.

Chugging along

Beforehand, I wish to reiterate that I am still crippled where internet access is concerned, and as you are reading down, this is typed via the free access I am tapping in the confines of McDonald’s.

I presume it has been close to a week since I was cut out of cyberspace, and any attempt to come online during peak hours proved itself to be futile. Even the unconventional mooching does not seem to work, given that more internet users around my vicinity are beefing up the security of their home wireless internet access, thus blockading my almost feeble attempts to infiltrate their network.

It was somewhat appalling that I fell asleep slightly after six, arising only a bit after dusk, yet, as the physical self would prove it, has affected my sleeping patterns in a cynically gregarious effect.

I have been contemplating on getting a lip-piercing for the past two weeks, and I think it is high tide I get one. It isn’t so much to support a particular youth culture, but more rather, a statement of non-conformity, directed against the zealously patriarchal family system which exists. I had assumed that we had moved away from our Bedouin desert roots, but apparently, some habits die hard.

Whilst tabulating my strengths and scores of the modules I am taking, I realised a familiar pattern which I omnisciently acknowledge had followed me through the years. My prowess was never in the fields of Mathematics or Sciences, but more rather, I excelled where subjectivity was abundant.

I was rather delighted that they had set aside a whole module on cognitive processes, which was my forte and strength. I always sought to provide a counter perspective, usually away from the tried and tested, and in more times than not, have proved itself to be a stimulus for the general population. Given my nature of championing and religiously defending my beliefs and opinions, it has caused tension at times, and admiration on my part. Culture has widened my perspective somewhat, and Enterprise, honed my business acumen, but, does not provide me that same excitement I exhibit in Cognitive.

Without intending to limit my options, I believe the right job for me would be that of a jurist, and a strong one at that.

Insomnia. Crippled Internet Connection. Wonderfulness

Sitting idly in McDonald’s, I could find no better explanation to my chronic insomnia problem. It has been a curse and will always remain so, unless of course treatment is sought. I suppose I am one of those who just cannot switch off mentally despite being exhausted physically.

It does not appease me that my internet connection has been suspended due to hiccups in payment; however, I will allow bureaucracy to take its stead. It does make the situation any better, given my dad has been procrastinating in fulfilling the payment.

Of late, I have begun to have more judicial control over my emotions, for emotions are at times, better left alone, and at times, in need of that push. The camaraderie forged beyond my inner circle of alliances has in instances fortified, albeit the dissidents out of my foresight. I have begun, or at least think to have begun to acknowledge my flaws and blemishes, for in imperfection lies a paradoxical form of perfection. Disbelief, in itself, is a form of belief.

I never fancied reading thick wads of a book, but I found myself consistently glued to a biography of a country in the Persian Gulf, despite the discrepancies and fallacies it contained, given the author is, in my opinion, a prejudiced Westerner, ignorant of the veracities of this particular nation. I will not discredit the country given the fact that it is seen via the eyes of a Western woman, and an infidel at that.

Drinking dark black coffee really gives one the perks, though frankly, I do not really like coffee, being more of an avid tea drinker, iced milk tea at that. It is rather crippling a fact I cannot come online as per fancy due to the handicap of services I am currently facing, but hopefully, it won’t be as bleak later in the week. Today would be Asyurah, a very much revered day for Shiites and to some extend, the Sunnis. Perhaps that particular information wasn’t necessary to begin with.

I have a dire need to convey a message to clubbing. I want to tag! I’ve not stepped into the premises of one for a rather long time, and frankly, the anticipation is killing. Till then chums, perhaps in another time shall our paths cross, figuratively that is.

Analogous persona, diverse Ascription

Rummaging through old flicks, I was very much drawn to, ‘V for Vendetta’. Despite having watched it before, I did not think I had actually savoured the show, not until today, given the fact that I was more interested in the cinematography, than the content itself.

The way Hugo Weaving, or his persona, ‘V’, conducted himself in the show, struck a chord with that of my personality. Without intention to digress, the show was indeed intellectually stimulating, and bordered on subjects I was very much interested in. Guy Fawkes was someone I believe I would have been able to relate to, renegades in our respective times.

The love for literary arts, honourable vengeance, unusually peculiar behaviour, non-conformist outlook, should we, or I, ask for more? There would be no point as to being predictable, for unpredictability is very much at hand, where we are at, of course without sounding too customary.

It somewhat reminded me of a portion of another film, scripted as such, ‘The way is shut. It was built by the dead and the dead keep it. The way is shut’. Ideas are indeed a powerful force, and in relation to the abovementioned, it seemed to bear that a formidable force are usually left untapped except for those willing to seek it.

When there is an action, there is an equal and opposing reaction. I will not contend that statement, for it would have served the purpose of me saying it in the first place. For the uncouth, read it aloud.

Actions undertaken without purpose or intent would eliminate the action itself. None does anything without justifications, as I would have it known.

We should remove ourselves from the pretexts of others; they serve no cause, and serve no benefit. We make ourselves, as we break it as well. Like a double tongued snake, it is a double edged sword. Where we thread, it should be done vigilantly, not that of a deviant vigilante.

Alfresco? How daunting

Had it not been for my pride and dignity, the idea of boycotting home somewhat upsets me, for the problem has not been effectively and efficiently dealt with. There is no point lamenting at this period of time, given that a decision has been made, and executed.

I vehemently deny subjugating or being subservient to the same species. Treatment across the board is of course equality in its purest sense. Although it might sound chronic, coming from an anti-conformist, the precepts I adhere to need not be unquestionably dogmatic, for dogmatism has no place in the pages of the mind.

Premeditating absence from home was perhaps not the best idea, suppose emotions were the rules of the day. Though I was in the domicile of another, it rendered not a basis to be treated in the utmost cruelty.

Whilst constructive criticisms are tolerable, it is not so with baseless accusations. Had I not been able to rationalise and weighed my options properly, it would have had had undesirable consequences, one I could not afford to undertake.

Perhaps it is time the gates of the heart opened and allow a crevice of a passage for those willing to venture, yet it should be reiterated that some form of duality is needed. I am seeing, not touching, not because I want to, but due to the fact that I can’t. It is time the facets allowed for versatility. Questionable? Undoubtedly.

Rantings of the perturbed mind

My mind and heart is at a particular crossroads, given the fact that I could blasphemously botch up any attempt in the reconciliation between the two. I have tried, in futility, to orchestrate a symphonic rhythm of the former and the latter, yet it appears they seemed bent on galloping in the opposite directions.

As to why I loved indulging in idiosyncratic behavioural traits was suppose I couldn’t put a lid upon. The weekend seemed to unfold itself with new information flowing in my direction, waiting to be plundered, of which the dutiful lad would. Apparently, while one cousin is bearing child via way of marriage, the other is apparently out of initial wedlock, abrogated via a marriage union.

Whilst I would not contest the legality of the former, it has somewhat raised a relevant doubt in the recesses of my twisted mind. Acknowledging that I am certainly not au fait where theology is concerned, but I am not that oblivious to the question of its legality either. Thorny issue aside, is the unborn child legitimate?

Addressing the abovementioned I will not, private and respective pondering I leave it to, for there are other more important issues to be dealt with.

What exactly constitutes the heart? Is it really in the jurisdiction of a physiologist, or that of a literary bard to tackle the posed question? Assuming the bard has a go, it would be most probable, if not definitely, the physiologist would have looked upon him in contempt, as I would anybody who vexes me, unless of course rectification is made.

I am particularly confused at this point of the tide, and when that happens, my lackadaisical nature would make itself apparent in the most conspicuous manner, and that is what I would want to avoid regardless expense.

Having acknowledgement in a greater degree would certainly compound my erratic mind and certainly, giving me a sign, would be very much appreciated.

The Revelation

I was never in favour of hanging dirty linen for the intrusive eyes of the generally astute netizens, or perhaps their delirious and disillusioned minds thought themselves such. I very much contend the notion that a blog is a personal online diary, for if it was personal, it would, rationally, mean that only the author has access to it, which of course, doesn’t happen.

One may have the impression that I am just incoherently ranting, or am I? As much as I admire the intellectual capabilities of the human mind, I cannot condone the juxtaposition of its obtuse nature as well. I would like to take this earnest opportunity to reiterate the point that I am in no way trying to paint myself an a perfectionist, but for a lack of a better them, I would rather be known as a keen observer of the idiosyncrasies of the human behaviour, and rest assured I do get appalled by my own at times.

As to whether blogging is necessary or a necessity, is contemplatively questionable beyond reasonable doubt. The subject just seems ludicrous, where I am opining.

Moving away from the cynical sardonicism, perhaps it would not hurt a fly to negate, the perception that blogging is utterly deleterious. I do believe it is a platform where people can express their opinions, and as to whether it is heard or otherwise, would of course be a whole new different chapter altogether.

My tartness in the expression of my opinions would probably make the day of the always oppressive regime who doesn’t believe in the notion of free speech, in the name of maintaining law and order. It would be probable to say that they cannot, or could not deny the fact that there are truths when people lambaste against them, and their policies, of which I would prudently choose to remain tight lipped over.

Well, perhaps this is the start, unless of course, I am detained for disturbing the peace. Kudos.