Bibliophilic Me...

It's rather unfortunate of me to believe that Popular bookstore in Seremban is a better one than its rival, MPH. Certain that I wouldn't find the books that I have always wanted at MPH, I ventured to Popular instead. I know I won't regret purchasing Brainwash : The Secret History Of Mind Control (I heart macabre stuff. And it's a non-fiction!). If there's any, it would be the fact that I could not buy the four books which are high in the list of my must-haves. All of them were found at MPH and the discovery was too late for I had already procured the aforementioned book. A mission I would love to see accomplished: to come back with money to buy them.

Hajar @ Jojo Binx wanted to know which books made it to my top 5 of all time favourites, the books that I will reread for any number of times without ever getting bored. Here they are... (in no particular order)



1. Never Let Me Go - Kazuo Ishiguro

This novel revolves around the lives of three friends who are - in the typical American label - special in every way. They are raised solely on the purpose of providing organs for normal people. Yes, this a story of clones. Fear not, it is not ridden with scientific mambo jumbo nor it is too preachy in its conviction. Although one might find the flow tad too draggy, the ending, I believe is guaranteed to leave a profound and lingering impact on the readers. I still felt the hangover of the powerful (and devastating) effect of the novel long after I've finished reading it.

2. We Need To Talk About Kevin - Lionel Shriver

Before reading this novel, make sure you have a dictionary handy. Verbose but eloquently told, it tells the story of a mother recuperating from the tragedy called Thursday. Her son killed eleven people on the eve of his sixteenth birthday. To make sense of her son's motivation to do such deed, she started a tedious correspondence with her estranged husband, dissecting the life and lies in the family prior to Thursday. Engaging, the novel triumphs in its mission to convey the message that evil is born, not built. What unnerves me is that I share so many common traits as the mother. Somehow, I think that this is a parental guidance book disguising as a clever fiction. It'll make those who want to start a family to think twice before making the leap...

3. Ordinary People - Judith Guest

I have raved about it in my previous post. I have little doubt that this novel will become a classic in the nearest future. An inexplicably aloof mother, a battling father and a recovering son make up a seemingly perfect family. A disaster in the recent past looms over the family, threatening to bring them under. It is wittily written and endearing right to the end. I still sympathise Conrad, the little brother who was once shadowed by his brother as he struggles to rebuild his life after the unexpected demise of the older brother and his botched suicide attempt. The novel offers more than an insight into a family shaken by a tragedy. It is a great tale of - as the title suggests - ordinary people.

4. Atonement - Ian McEwan

I earnestly think that the novel is a shade better than the movie. A simple lie, in many ways unexpected and unforeseen especially by the teller, led to the destruction of three lives. Heart wrenching and almost epic in its telling, this novel deserves the spot in the Time Top 100 novels of the century. The twist at the end increases its value.

5. Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows - JK Rowling

I know Hajar doesn't like the series but she's fully aware that the release of the highly anticipated novel fell on the same day as her birthday. To me, this is more than apt ending to the super popular series. It ties up all the loose ends, answers all questions convincingly, and above all, makes the whole idea of good trumping evil believable. It transcends the scope of a children book what with its darker tone and clever storyline. Heh, it also proves that Snape is a good guy through and through. The epilogue might appear cheesy but for fans like me, it is the best way to end the tale.

I have 5 other notable mentions: I Am Muslim - Dina Zaman, Kill The Messenger - Tami Hoag, Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire - JK Rowling, Out - Natsuo Kirino, and Freedomland - Richard Price.

Just.Push.Play

Marshaling the much needed confidence wasn't that hard after all. After succeeding in overcoming the seemingly insurmountable first hurdle (the hill part. Anyone can attest to its notoriety), the knots of worry became unravelled.

The plan had been stalled for two years. The 6-month hiatus only made thing worse. I was nearly completely sober from the skills learned previously. Everything drew to a close earlier today. Although I'm only one of the millions who are called drivers in the country, I can't help but to feel elated.

No more waking up early in the morning to go to Nilai. No more meeting with condescending instructor. No more waiting. I'm now liberated.

P.S: Absolutely knackered but can't bring myself to sleep...

Debris from the past...

After this morning's crash course, it's safe to deduce that my confidence has just crashed and burned...Tuesday's the big day. Somehow, today's performance seems like a portent for an undesirable outcome. Gah! I need to keep my wit about me to pass this one.

On board of the new Komuter coach, I laid my eyes on the latest addition to the series of stations. Tanjung Malim. Finally, the spanking new station has been installed with the service. The only regret is, why now?

A thought flitted across my mind. ASiS has introduced me to the world, KY on the other hand propelled myself to the stratosphere. I miss both places to bits and pieces.

Well, the line extension gives me all the more reason to be engulfed in incessant reminiscences...

Closing up!

My mom wonders why I am becoming more taciturn. Is it really so? Well, if there's any reasons why I'm being slightly jittery, it would be that Tuesday's looming nearer.

I wanna pass at the first go!!

P.S; I heartheartheartheart this poster! Shoulda taken it from GSC the other day...

Trailblazer??

"I see that you don't know how to slow down but you're good when let loose speeding."

The kind uncle's remark was spot-on. I couldn't agree more. In the outset, it makes me appear conceited. But I think I know better...

Love is indeed complicated!

Every time I take a train ride across the KL Southern Suburban (i.e. the Cheras area), I will be gripped by the feeling of desiring, or in a more apt fashion, sadness. The large window of LRT or Komuter affords me a good view of the neighbourhood as the train passes by. Even if I take the bus, I can always see the skyline of the area. The spectacle often leaves my guard down and old memories always come flooding back in, threatening to besiege their owner’s senses.

The train lines pass the very roads that were often used to reach my alma mater. On Tuesday, I caught a glimpse of the Petronas station in Bandar Tasik Permaisuri, the one that I passed every time I came back to school after overnight. It had become such a landmark that the mere sighting of the station from the train was enough to trigger the yearning for a time turning contraption. Now, there’s a Shell service station standing next to it. I don’t remember seeing it there before.

From the LRT, one can also see the top of the school’s water tank. If there were one thing I regret not doing back then, it would positively be climbing the positively haunted tank. If I ever use the line, I’ll make it a point to look out for the tower. Without fail, the sturdy profile of the tower quickly transports me to the past. It’s almost absurd but I can’t help it. Nor I can explain it.

Funny thing happened on Tuesday’s morning too. The LRT made a very long stop at Bandar Tun Razak station as if keen to deposit me there. The temptation was overwhelming; I would simply hail a cab and within minutes, I’d find myself explaining my intention to visit the school to the guard. After all, I still have an unfinished arrangement there and I’m bidding my time to strike. Thank goodness that I had an appointment to keep.

It’s always hard for me to describe my time at ASiS. Am I really madly in love with it? Isn’t being school fanatic a trait I customarily shun? No matter how hard I try to come up with the answers, my insecurities heighten and I’ll just let the old memories take over my wit.

This inexplicable commotion of feelings whenever I’m in the propinquity of the school is inevitable even in the long run. I can never understand why such a short stay (as opposed to 5 years, my stint only lasted for two years) leaves an everlasting impact on me. I once concluded that the shorter duration transpired an equal amount of sweetness and bitterness so that there’s no clear winner between the two. I hope my hypothesis will stand and its status as a theory can be elevated to being a law. A law that is only applicable to me, I think.

Cosmic!

A confession to make: I’m a roller coaster junkie. Had I stayed for a few more minutes with them, I would have taken another ride on it. Having tried all the roller coasters at Genting, I must say that the one at Cosmic World comes in second after the Cockscrew.

The Bumper Car was also FUN with capital letters throughout. I still can’t get the image of Fatin reversing in circles waiting to be hit out of my head. That spinning thingy was OK. Fiqry threw a question at me. Frankly, I don’t know. Am I scared of height? Do I experience vertigo at great height? Why did we have an absurdly calm conversation on BTN while dangling a few hundreds feet above ground?

The trip was a blast through and through even though I had to excuse myself early. It would have been out of the world if I stayed for lunch. And a ride on DNA Mixer. Frankly, it’s pretty pointless to spin around at one position. But I can’t deny that it’s far more dizzying than any roller coaster rides!

Thanks Kak Pah for the dorayaki and keychain from Japan. Thanks to everyone who was present; Fiqry, Kamal, Wong, Pam, Kak Pah, Soraya, Ju Vern, Fatin, and the latecomers (Topan, Serap, and Haziq) for this amazing outing!

I’m not surprised if Times Square closes down soon. The layout of the building is just haphazard. Locating escalators can be very tricky. Vienna Bagels was kind enough to dispense free bagels at its newly opened counter, a consolation after a frantic search for an ATM.

Hope that I can manage to join them for the next outing.

P.S: Life’s a rollercoaster ride, jump on one and you’ll make better sense of your life. Nah!

5 Reasons why NOT watching War of Dragons is such a fine idea...

There was no reason for me to see the movie in the first place but Pam insisted that we had to keep ourselves occupied before going on with our initial plan. The selection was a wee bit random; everyone had seen Hancock and the disastrous Wanted while The Dark Knight was surprisingly cast aside. I personally would love to see The Dark Knight again (ensnared by the charisma of the Joker. Everyone who had seen the flick agreed that Heath Ledger should be given the Oscar). War of the Dragons was the only movie no one had watched so a consensus was achieved. Almost unthinkingly, all of us squandered RM7 for the tix.

It’s a bit unfair to demote the movie to a second rate status without highlighting a few interesting facts about the movie. It is based on a Korean legend (we Asians have an affinity towards dragons. Even Malaysia has its own dragon related tales). Naturally, the film was produced by a Korean company (or was it the director?). Although it’s not news for a director from the Far East to produce a movie in Hollywood, this one upped the ante a bit for being lavishly enhanced by CGI effects. Correct me if I’m wrong but this is also a breakthrough of the Korean product made in Hollywood. There were talks to make a movie about Naga Tasik Chini before. Aware of the state of Malaysian filmmaking scene, I’m obliged to suggest to those who are brave enough to get the project off the ground to inspect the movie closely. Another plus point is the movie is short so if you have time to kill and you have seen all the summer blockbusters (invariably substance discounted offerings) or you’re trawling aimlessly at a mall when an impulse strikes you to pay the local cinema a visit, this one won’t disappoint.

On to the main concern of this post. Here’s a list of 5 reasons why you should avoid seeing the movie at the cinema like a plague:

1. If you’re looking for something meatier in the storyline, this film is bound to upset you. I, for the life of me, couldn’t withdraw any values from the film even long after the credit had rolled. Ten minutes into the movie, anyone less than rocket scientists can figure out the whole story as everything is conveniently explained by a side character. This makes the movie even shorter than its original duration!

2. Jason Behr was an absolute eye-candy back in the days of Roswell. However, his acting left too much to be desired. His utter lack of emotion even when the evil dragon was about to strike made me want to jump into the screen and rearrange his impassive feature. His fellow cast did not help make the watch better too. Oh yeah, where has the beauty gone from Jason (he was voted as one of the most beautiful people by People then. Tautology, I know)?

3. The special effects were laughable. They were nowhere near to 2008’s standard. In case they haven’t noticed, the technology has improved by leaps and bounds over the years. I inferred that the generic effects were all they could afford in filming the movie. The fact that the actors were standing in front of a green screen was further accentuated by the obvious overlapping lines. It was almost comical! Even the ending, intended to elicit tears (somebody cried though. I won’t reveal who), was reduced to a laughable affair no thanks to its campy CGI work. It also bore resemblance to the great The Lord of The Rings when art direction was concerned.

4. I couldn’t find the movie on Wikipedia for critical responses. This baffles me though. Is the movie released Stateside?

5. The movie is just bad, bad, bad. It’s not as bad as Steven Segal’s movies though.

Alone in the Dark is not a Joke!

It has always struck me as odd for people to go to a cinema alone. The absence of partner(s) reduces the joy of watching a movie significantly. I need partner(s) to lambaste the crappy script or wooden acting or heap praises whenever appropriate. Partners make all the difference I think.

I digressed.

On Saturday, all my reservations against seeing a movie alone took the backseat as I made it to the cinema all on my own. The Dark Knight exceeded all expectations although I am obliged to restrain myself from claiming it as the best Batman movie ever as I haven’t seen all the movies in the franchise. I admit, if I were ever to consider a career as film critic, I would never take the job to review a superheroes movie. I like X2 and X3, all the Spidey movies, and Hellboy. Contrary to critics’ views, I found Spiderman 3 and X3: The Last Stand were both highly entertaining and believable. X2 is touted as one of the best superheroes movie ever so I don’t have to feel guilty to like it so much and the first Hellboy (which was directed by the same guy who gave us the splendiferous Pan’s Labyrinth) also received rave reviews upon its release. My softer side on superheroes movies does not stem from my interest in comic books though. Make no mistake, I’m not a kleptomaniac. Again, another digression.

The main draw to watch The Dark Knight is Heath Ledger’s swansong as The Joker. Heath is (or should it be was now he’s six feet under?) the real showstopper and personally, his portrayal as The Joker is the only reason why the movie is so great. In fact, he eclipsed the Batman and I was left desiring for more screen presence of the Joker. Twisted, he was replete with energy and ingenuity that put him a notch above everyone else in the premise. Never had a villain been played so convincingly (with the exception of Dr. Hannibal (Anthony Hopkins’ Oscar winning act) in Silence of the Lambs, Javier Bardem’s senseless evil as Anton whatshisname in No Country for Old Men, and the insufferably coldhearted Amon Goth (Ralph Fiennes) who shot people using his sniper rifle while having breakfast in Schindler’s List) as Heath. IMHO, he deserves the posthumous Oscar. Peter Finch was awarded the Best Actor Oscar for playing the character that coined the famous quote “I’m mad as hell and I won’t take it anymore” in Network (a film that swept three Oscar acting awards, a remarkable feat achieved by so few movies) a few months after his demise. So why can’t he be awarded the same honour?

One might easily jump into conclusion that the film is just another high octane, fast paced action flick from Hollywood but unlike, say, Wanted, the film was not without substance. The issues tackled are far from being superficial. A scene clearly exhibits that at times of desperation, even the so-called civilized and sane people will not haste to ensure survival even at the expense of others who they deem as lesser mortals. Someone with a very strong will too, if subjected to relentless pressures, can have his principles crumbled as shown by a major character in the movie (which gives birth to another super villain towards the end of the movie). Also, God doesn’t play with dice in the matters of governing the universe…

Overall, the film, if not the best in 2008, will go down the history as one of the most successful superheroes movies ever.

Give Heath the Oscar already!

Abject boredom

Mood: Restive
Listening to: Collide - Howie D

A sedentary life has its downside. Lounging around the house like it's nobody's business for days has taken its toll on me. My life has never been duller...

Carrying out domestic chores provides much less drama than being in a community that thrives on sensational doings. Flat and monotonous, I feel the urge to tweak it a bit. I need to go out a lil' bit more. Yesterday when I went to Nilai, I found out that there was a construction work going on near my house. I didn't know that at all. It had been days since I left the comfort of my abode. Here's a catch though. Living in a far-flung location where only the most basic amenities are available doesn't give too much sense of exploration. I decide that being holed up in the house is a much better option. But how long will I survive?

TV doesn't confer too much comfort anymore. There's so many channels that offer so few entertainment. It used to be indispensable but as of now, I don't think it can be much use for me. Well, I don't want to part with my TV. It's just that I think it has lost it lustre...

I don't have decent games left to be played on my PS2. It seems that all the new interesting releases are tailor made for PS3. The urge might be there to own a unit of Ps3 but with little time left here (pray that I'll meet the grades) I don't see much point in owning it.

If I decided to whip a gastronomic blowout for my family, I fear that they'll go down with food poisoning. I have yet to learn how to cook. It seems that there's a mission to be accomplished...

I need a partner to tango with me this Saturday. I've booked two places at the Uni Pre-Departure Briefing. I don't wanna go there alone.

P.S: Happy Birthday Pam! This is a week littered with people's birthdays. Syazwan and Acap celebrated their anniversaries two days prior.

Past Living...

Mood: Yearning
Listening to: Lost Without You - Delta Goodrem

Today marks the beginning of a journey for the 11th Batch.

A year ago,I was in catbird seat as one of the overseers of the Induction week.

Two years ago, I joined the wide-eyed, over eager crowd as newbies at KYUEM.

I wish I can turn back the clock and start over. Two years sequestered in the middle of nowhere taught me invaluable lessons; things needed for my survival in later years. I have enjoyed so much and tasted so little that a journey back in time is almost justified.

I long for the routine. Routine. Something that once kept me in check. Something to tell me that I have my eyes transfixed on certain goals. Something that acted as a cohesive in holding my relationships together. Truth be told, complete freedom like I'm enjoying now is nowhere near as good as the routine back then. I tend to stray so I need something to keep my wit about me.

I'd give the world to go back to 11th July 2006.

I miss KY to bits...

Ordinary People, Extraordinary Stuff!

“They are ordinary people, after all. For a time they had entered the world of the newspaper statistic; a world where any measure you took to feel better was temporary, at best, but that is over. This is permanent. It must be.”

The novel and the film are anything but ordinary. Quoting the author of the book, the story explores the anatomy of depression. An affluent family was plunged head first into the world where misery is the order of the day. They lost their eldest son in a boating catastrophe and his little brother attempted suicide shortly after the loss. Although the story was set approximately a year after the latter incident, the consequences reverberated through to the future.

One of the more emerging themes in the story that captures my attention is love comes in many shapes. Conrad, the troubled teen whose suicide attempt was botched had a strained relationship with his mother. His mother was a control freak. She never let emotions took hold of her being. In the film, she refrained from crying even when the temptation was overwhelming and she quickly rearranged her feature to the one that suggested indifference. Her concern during her son’s funeral was what her husband wore on that day. A scene was remarkable in portraying the fractured relationship between her and Conrad. When Conrad couldn’t decide whether he’s hungry, she took his French toast and dumped it into the sink! In Conrad’s words, they just couldn’t connect and thought that she still blamed him for what had happened to the family.

In truth, Beth, the mother loved her son unconditionally. She wanted the family to move on hence her cold stature. She still kept the stuff made by Conrad and his brother when they were little. Just like in We Need To Talk About Kevin, the very act of pushing people away is actually a show of deep affection…

I shall not explore other themes coz you have to read or watch it yourself...

The novel was released in 1976 yet the language used was way ahead of its time. Six months on the American bestsellers is a testament that this novel deserves the status of cult if not a classic. It also won an award for the best debut novel. The book was then made into a movie, which won the Oscar Best Picture in 1980.

Unlike other adaptations, its transition to a film was almost flawless. Timothy Hutton really embodied Conrad as a jumpy, recovering younger son. His presence was endearing and you couldn’t help but to feel affected by his despair. As a tribute to his convincing act, Timothy became the youngest winner of Oscar Best Supporting Actor. I suspect that the reason why he wasn’t up for the Best Actor category is because the Academy wanted to award him with an Oscar but at the same time they couldn’t ignore Robert De Niro. Oh yeah, he was twenty when he won an Oscar. I haven’t won any. Not that I’m seeking for one in the future though…

Buy, borrow, beg or steal the novel and the film. Thanks Waa for getting me this stellar work…

His-story??

I think I owe something to my readers. I need to explain what I meant by history is written by the winners. History is a manifestation of ideas for an entity to be proud of, as memento that we can manipulate in the future to strengthen our beliefs, as a homage to our previous existence. Staying true to these ideologies, history is owned and inadvertently does not escape biasness.

We can't be impartial as long as we cling to this philosophy. We need to assume a stand so some things can be seen as positive while others can be classified as blemishes. That is why the British think that our independence fighters are traitors but they're glorified by us. That is why some people think that the Communists should be granted some appreciation in their contribution to gaining independence while another side are deadly against it. IMHO, this divide is due to our innate nature as humans; we take sides. Since this is our country, we'll forever believe that the fighters were heroes and the PKM was a hindrance to the independence. In other words, we own this piece of history and it is at our disposal to shape it and in turn, becomes something to be told to the future generations.

When Malacca fell into the hands of Portuguese, we mark it as the downfall in the history. The invasion period that lasted for 446 years is something not to be repeated, which I wholly agree. During the period, everything was painted in the colours of sorrow and despair. It appeared that nothing good had happened. It's close to preposterous to believe otherwise. But do we really know the truth? Do we get to view it from a different perspective? The choice is indeed in our hands but the history that has been propagated from time immemorial suggests otherwise. Well, the history started some 50 years ago. When we gained independence. This was the time when there seemed to be a need to have a history that lessons could be derieved from.

But what has it got anything to do with history is written by winners? It's well known that Malacca was a successful empire. We also learned that an empire expansion had occured by means of voluntary surrender, religion induced submission, and also wars. And as always, war came with dire consequences. Here's the twist, the war launched by the empire was not thoroughly dissected in our syllabus. In fact, justification was supplied instead. On the other hand, Japanese occupation was portrayed as one of the most miserable moments in our history. Ethnic cleansing done by the Portuguese was utterly inhumane. Unspeakable evil and unbearably brutish these events were in our books of history. Likewise, the Portuguese are beaming with proud to know that their ancestors were the first to conquer Malacca, arguably the most important port of the Old World.

Now we can clearly see that in writing history, the writers must belong to an establishment. Its ideologies are fundamental in building the history. Credits are given to those who are in favour of the ideologies. Those that don't fit the principles are branded as negative elements. The end product is a history of a nation. This is done in every country. Heroes and traitors are determined by the owner of the history. Because to earn something, one must fight for it. And the winner will own it...

In my opinion, that is history.

The camp it was...

Listening to: Grace Kelly - Mika

5 days stretched almost like forever. Unlike others, I'm so glad that it's over and done with. To sum it up, it felt like an extended, physical Malaysian Studies class. But I'll still give credit to where it's due. I'm pretty much enlightened on a few issues, the abseiling was fun, and the Kembara wasn't all that bad (despite the disgusting sludge and thick brambles. I discarded all my clothing articles at the end of the exercise). Oh yeah, my belief in history is written by winners is further fortified.

I love my country. That is undoubtful. But what some of them tried to get across offended me in a way. Are we students not s'pposed to meddle in the business of politics, not to pay allegiance to a particular political establishment? But why did they try to sear that nascent seed in us? Up to this point, I'm still wondering...

I pray that I've passed the motion. Redoing it is almost unthinkable.

Woozy...

At the time of my writing this, I haven't completely banished the cobwebs of sleep.

Yes, if there's no driving class in the morning, I'll only wake up at 11. Not productive you might say. Yeah, I have to agree on that. But that's what I do at home nowadays. Will sleep at 3+, wake up to wash the dishes accumulated from the day before, cook rice, hang clothes, and go online. Such a precision the schedule that I currently follow. My life is pretty drab at the moment.

Somebody killed a teacher's baby in her dream this morning. SMAP Kajang and KUSSES won the PPM this year. I get 300 free SMSes from Maxis for not reloading my credit (read:it's free in every sense!). Insofar, the day has been a blast. I hope the momentum will persist till the day draws to a close...

Misery

Mood: Incensed
Listening to: Underneath – Alanis Morissette

I bet my driving instructor was mortified all thanks to my incompetence. But I must correct him on his idea I came to be. I wasn’t afraid. Rather, I was frustrated… At the rate that I was going, I couldn’t help but to feel a bit dejected and a whole lot angry.

Now I can’t play the game that I love.

The laptop is on the brink of breaking down again. And the Internet connection makes me testy.

The beautiful morning has turned murky now. Get me out of here!

The Gathering... Storm??

Mood: Confused still...
Listening to: Bleeding Love – The Wombats
Still reading Crime and Punishment…

Despite missing the first bus to Seremban due to my oversleeping, I did attend the gathering last Sunday.

And my notion prior to coming to the gathering turned out to be true. How people have changed over the years.

I don’t know what to brand the changes with. If I say that it’s for the better, I am lying through my teeth. If I say that it’s for the worse, I might come across as judgmental. In the end, I resort to leaving all to God to judge them…

I endured stilted conversation, complete apprehension, and the inferiority associated with being underdressed. They are now active members of the social scene with credits at numerous parties and gatherings. I am still the stiff conservative that I was then, having done not so much of venturing outside than catching a flick at a cinema.

We watched Wanted and I must say that it was as disappointing as the meeting itself. I was fooled by the promo, thinking that the movie was not just like any other summer blockbusters, slick but with no substance. It turned out that the film fit exactly the typical Hollywood mould, slick and unsubstantial. The build up was nice what with mind-bending bullet projectile, freeze motion technique, which was abundant and a hot chick hell-bent on taking out people, but halfway through the movie, it was apparent who the good guy was and who was not. Heck, even the many carefully done reviews in the newspaper could not conceal the spoiler from the readers. How many times have we read that when a movie character gained the trust of an organization and vice versa, it turned out that there is more than meet the eyes about the organization? I was expecting that the movie would break away from this clichéd storyline but boy, was I wrong. To top it all, the movie decided to snuff the light out of my biggest celebrity crush. The goodbye letterings engraved on the exotic looking bullet at the end of the movie promo in the television is a dead giveaway of who I’m referring to…

I was disoriented when I came out of the cinema. And this was when my greatest fear was confirmed. I shall not divulge one bit more here but suffice to say that I was shocked beyond reasons…

After parting ways with them (in God’s honesty, I was thoroughly relieved, much too my displeasure), I made a few detours. The goal was to buy A Good School, a novel by Richard Yeats. After much hassle queuing up to withdraw money (the security alarm installed in one of the ATMs went off, extracting curious glances from the crowd) and buying Kit Kat from a newsstand so that I could get a plastic bag to carry my paperback safely into the mammoth MPH, I was met with another disappointment. The price was marked up to a price that I decided was way out of my means. I left the bookstore without the book.

I missed the last bus to Jelebu later that evening so I had to ask my dad to fetch me. Another hour was spent at arguably one of the biggest bookstores in Seremban. As expected, it didn’t carry the book that I longed for. I couldn’t find Freakonomics too!

I concluded that the trip was a disappointment through and through. The only consolations were the hearty offering from Carl’s Jr. and the sinfully delicious Dark Mocha Frappucino…Oh, I didn’t mind the company of Brian, Im, and Dio too.