Celebrate Sunset Sediments with Cider Sides

Its the beginning of a new world. A world with no trees. No TV and no Slurpee. No subway, no Coke, no cinemas, no actors, no camera. The war had passed. EMP, nuclear and everything in between. Yes, no PSP and no iPhones. No cars with Electronic whatevers, no ships and planes. 


"We're driving West for Days now."
Well, someone managed to salvage a working car, it seems. The West is the direction of salvation. Rumor has it, there's a place in the far west where trees grow and rivers run. People are so nice they'd smile at you, not run you down with lead. Food is abundant, water are clean. People got jobs and houses and families and Rights. Everyone could do with some of those right about now, especially the last. 
There were no indications to how far west it lies, or how it looks like. Only that nobody outside of it has ever been there, because when you're in you don't want to leave. Or so they say. 


"Do not falter, the journey may be long but God its worth it!"
Optimism is the key to reaching this promised land. Persistence is the drive. Be brave and face all the perils of the journey, for the reward is mind blowing. It is not for the faint hearted. It is not for procrastinators and lazy and pessimistic and  content and barbaric. It's for visionaries. It's for real survivors. 


"Around us cities in dust, beyond that barren wastelands"
The world is in ruins. All of civilization and its pride and glory is now rubbish. They don't feed the people now. The won't grow and turn into meat and potatoes. They now house bats and lions and giant lizards. The wild has reclaimed their rightful ownership of the land once taken from them. Grass grows, moss and shrubs. No trees. No forest. No waterfalls and no lakes. 


"They wear tie, slacks and black shoes."
To hold a job is to be able to contribute to society. To wear a tie is to be able to present and represent. To wear black shoes is to have the luxury of owning more than one pair of shoes. 


Life is only good when it is better than others. Life is only worth living when there's a mission and vision one can strive for. Sunset Sediments is the part that takes up less than 5% of your Iced Milo, but also the best. Too much would make you hate it, too little would make you not know how good it tastes. Sunset Sediments is the Promised Land of today, in which many around the world flock to become a part of. It is also the land of hypocrisy you'd learn to hate when you're in there for too long.   


Sunset Sediments is your weak and cheap car, generic MP3 player, 60 Ringgit shoes, middle-income home, mamak lunch and the inability to upgrade your old and cheap DLSR. 


Sunset Sediments is also your working car, the ability to listen to music on the go, a pair of usable shoes, a home that's yours, food in your stomach and a camera. 


Sunset Sediments is anything you want to be, if you so choose, when you so choose. 

Growth

Growth. The inevitable process of life, cradle to grave. Inch by inch we grow, inch by inch we die off. It's the moment of joy in revelation, it's the moment of peace in gaining comfort of, and it's the moment of boredom when it's over done. Growth is learning how to say 'Hello' in 5 different languages. Growth is learning what it is one gains from losing someone very dear.

We stop at nothing to grow, yet we do not allow others the luxury of so. Growing is when you know not to do something, but do it anyway and ending up exactly where you're expected to. Growing is looking fear right in the eye and owning it. Growth itself is what we fear. It takes you to places you've never been, and leaving you there to find your way back all alone. Growing takes the white sheet of paper you were, and tossing paint all over as you progress. Growth is from 'Lying is bad' to 'Lying makes me money'.

Growth is both an ascension and a degradation. You learn and you dispose. You gain new principles of life, and you forget the old. Growth holds you by the throat and chokes you dry of air. And just when you're about to lose everything, gives it all back. Growth makes everything you did in the past look stupid and silly, and you vow not to ever embarrass yourself again in the future. Growth makes you realize you'll never be able to not embarrass yourself.

Growth is the sun, its the moon and the stars. Its diapers and pills. Its paddle shifter transmissions and its Hybrid engines. It takes humanity to the brink of self annihilation, and it will take us back from it. Growth is prolonging life, and introducing things that will take those new years away from us.

Growth is renewal and decay. Growth is decaying faster and more than renewal. It is knowing we're all going to die one day, and waking up every morning to celebrate life. It is the personification of beauty, with age. It is turning the infinite universe of stars and nebula into sky. It is from loving everything you come to pass, to getting bored with the word 'LOVE'.

Growth is inevitable. It consumes us all, and leaves us to die. It will continue to live off every soul for generations to come, up to the day the world dies from the growth of mushroom-cloud atoms and people-killing cells. Growth will be the end of us all.

So have a cup of coffee, and toast to Growth.

In The Dark Ages

About a month ago a client of mine passed away, leaving much to be tended to in the unit he rented just months ago. Mr Anderson was one of the few closer clients of mine, mainly because I had to go supervise many repair works in the place all the time. This morning I went to collect the house keys from Mrs. Anderson, where I was told his story weeks before death.

Mrs. Anderson was back in her hometown during the Hari Raya (Muslim New Year) weekend, when she heard his husband had been admitted to the hospital. She rushed back to town immediately to find Mr. Anderson lying on the hospital bed, badly battered and bruised. The doctors told them many things. His kidney had failed, and there was a problem with his heart. First diagnosis was Dengue. But he was swelled up all over. Then the doctor said it was his failed kidneys that caused the swell. And then there was the heart. Some even speculated he was beaten by somebody in a car accident recently, which caused all these complications. 2 and a half weeks later, he passed away. The doctor walked up to Mrs. Anderson, now weeping in agony over her lost love, and asked,

"Ma'am, do you have any idea what is wrong with your husband?"

She looked at him with mixed feelings. She didn't know whether she should be angry at the doctor.

"What doctor asks me what was wrong with my husband?!"

A friend of mine was admitted to a hospital near Pangkor Island with an allergy attack. They administered an anti-allergy drug banned throughout the world for giving too many fatal side effects, and ended up killing my friend.

It is in this moment when I realized The Dark Ages no longer refer to a date in our history, but a place in the world. This modern age of nano technology opened our eyes to endless possibilities; possibilities to improve humanity's conveniences and cut down time on everything imaginable. In the midst of these provisions we forget to fulfill one of mankind's basic needs: placement of proper working judicial and medical system.

If Mr. Anderson had been treated by some a little less than half as intelligent as Dr. House, he'd probably survived this ordeal. If there was a CSI team, again a little less than, half as efficient as Gil Grissom's, Mrs. Anderson would probably see justice done to the person who beat her husband up over a fender bender. But there isn't. There isn't anyone out there who is capable of pulling even a fraction of these people's abilities. Sure, these are fictional characters. I'd understand if we see Dr. House as entirely fictional. He was, after all, built based on Sherlock Holmes ( House and Holmes). But don't tell me there isn't a person capable enough to at least do the right thing!

Maslow specifically stacked out the pyramid of Needs accordingly, so governments, politicians, business builders, Tom, Dick, Harry and Sally could work with. But why is it that we can now rise up to the tallest building in the world and fly out from the 'Best Airport in the World', but not provide the two simplest needs to out people?

We are now at the age where power no longer side the wealthy, but the many. If the authorities continue to fail in simple provisions to the many, they would never be able to gain respect from the many.

B**** Slap Your Best Friends

Ever had someone come up to you and told you how much of an idiot you are? No? Then you've not a single true friend in your group. Lets face it. None of us grew up not having done something wrong, or been someone intolerably idiotic. We can't help it. Call it genetic if you must, there has to be certain parts of us which was at some point annoying your friends so much they'd either walk up to you and slap you with contempt of simply ignore you.

We all face problems with people. Its the way life is meant to be. We are all made different for a reason. Its like we've been set to do different things in life from the very beginning. Accountants have to be very meticulous with cash, therefore they appear to be extra stingy and selfish with spending. But that's what make accountants so good. Some people are so good at lying, they'd make up the most exciting and believable stories in a flash. These people work well with marketing and sales. Its just how we are that makes us what we are in life. But all these has to have a line drawn. Because as a friend, we are neither accountants nor marketeers. We are friends.

I know some of you might say things like: 'I am the way I am, and if you're good enough a friend, you should accept me as I am.' That's a load of cow manure. As much as we don't like to be slaves to society and its conducts, they were set there initially for a good reason. For example, you won't want to shake the hands of a passionate nose digger because they're unhygienic. If you don't respect people, you don't get no people. Look in the mirror. Do you have something people just cannot accept? Is that why you can't seem to keep your friends around you? Now don't go slamming your heads with a sledge hammer just yet. As much as everyone would like to blame you for your disgusting character, its not entirely your fault. People find it hardest to understand him/herself. That is why The Encounter of the Final Kind refers to yourself.

Being a friend is not easy. There is no such thing as a scratch-free friendship. If there were, they're not your friends. Would you go up to your friend and tell him/her that his/her breath stinks or he/she is always being a sarcastic female dog? If you won't, he/she is probably not worth your effort, which also means he/she is not important enough for you.  Best friends always point out each other's character flaws, because they care for their friends and want the best for their friends.

"But it'll always end up in a fight!" Egos are both good and bad for a person. Don't ever try to break a person's ego. Go around it. When you know your friend well enough, you'll eventually know how to work your way around his/her ego. Remember, your purpose is to solve a problem, not to demean him/her. When you can walk up to your friend and say: ' I know this might ruin our friendship but I need you to know this because it's important to you', you're well on your way to becoming a person's best friend. And if he/she don't see that as a blessing, feel free to stick a 'Kick Me' sign behind him/her the next time you happen to meet.

Prime by Constellations of Sparky

I will attempt to unveil the deep dark secrets of Prime, by which I'm pretty sure isn't exactly rocket science. But since I'm in need of posts for my blog quota, why not. We all need the publicity anyway. 

Prime was, on the surface, a random occurrence of prime numbers intertwined in a series of verses with no connections whatsoever with one another, hence the name prime (for those who don't know, prime numbers can only be divided by itself and number 1). But in the essence, this song portraits people. More specifically, people who set themselves apart from others. For example the Mutants in X-Men, and Cloud and his AVALANCHE gang in Final Fantasy 7. 

We're all born into the world thinking there's a certain destiny set out for us. While trying to desperately fit into society, we're also finding a way to stand above it. We need recognition, we need attention, we need achievement, and we need respect. Because life would be pointless without it. So, we set out in search of a special purpose. Cloud and his gang were stigmatized as terrorists of Midgar and robbers of justice. Despite all the bad publicity, they strive for their mission simply because they believe in what they did. They sacrificed their good name for the greater good that they believed would in turn save everyone, including those who condemn them. 

'Its the 13th of the Month, says Jason'

Jason was a serial killer, clad in a hockey mask and slaughtering everyone in his wake. As a front, the public saw Jason's doing as downright unacceptable. Burn in hell, as they may say. But deep down inside, they envied Jason's ability to break the societal barriers and achieve ultimate freedom, because the freedom to take another man or woman's life is in itself pure nirvana. Please be advised that this post does NOT in any way encourage the mass murdering of people. 

'53 Windows Leading out to Undivided Odds'

People want to be special. We want to be able to change the world, for better or worse (hopefully less of the latter). We seek out unique households by which we would wake up every morning with a smile across our faces, reciting " Damn, I'm special". We want to be better than the world at something, therefore making ourselves believe we already are better. Driving to work, we'd encounter a driver who drives less as obedient as we are and "What an idiot" comes out. Comfy in our 100 grand posh ride, we whisper "Loser" to anyone with cars cheaper than ours. And we also go " Must be fake" to ladies clad in monogram handbags. But not us. We do it right, and when we do  go fake, its for a good reason. 

'We are Primal, Insightful Martyrs'

We're seeing the world in less light than it allows us to. In our attempts to depart ourselves from mediocrity and normality, we become so. Put it simply: when everyone wants to be special, everyone becomes normal. But no. We'd like to believe we're out of the ordinary. We make sacrifices to be where we are right now, and no one should reach there without giving out any less. That is what makes being where we are special. 

'Incantations, Numerical Rhymes'

In the end, Prime is still a song with 17 prime numbers running all around it. I will now attempt to make myself feel special by telling you that 17 is also a prime number, but I'm sure you already got it. 

PRIME

71 km to reach the outskirts of the city

As I'm doing 83 clicks on the fifth day of the week and

Its the 13th of the month, says Jason

37  Cuban Axes

Why do they throw him out 2 97 stages of hell?

541 table spoons laid out here for you

Elusive dihedral scores is unfactorable no

We are primal, insightful martyrs

We are undivided by the

Rows of 4s and 6s of 15s

Incantations, numerical rhymes

61 highways lead to 199 towns

97 broken bridges under 17 officials

Mango 3s orange 11s

Crime is 101 to void when

There are 53 windows leading out to undivided odds

541 table spoons laid out here for you

Elusive dihedral scores is unfactorable no

We are primal, insightful martyrs

We are undivided by the

Rows of 4s and 6s of 15s

Incantations, numerical rhymes

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ns35SxMZEjk

By Michelle Teng with bad Throat Problem

Can anyone figure out what she said????

i weel wike ewing mcwowald wren wrie,
i wink whe wiwwa wave me woat woh-wem.
whe woke alwo. your whone wust wing,
wot mehegge. you winish wathing we.
wye-wye. wite wite.

Life end when we leave school (Facebook Note)

Life ends when we leave school. i was 9 when they spilt my class up to reduce the number of classes that year. i met a guy who kept on wasting my liquid paper away. we became friends and there were 5 of us. i had problems talking. i'd stammer. people made fun of me. everyone but them. the 4 of them. one guy would make fun of me, and they'd chase him all around the school field and whack him up. one day we played sword fight in school, and ended up breaking almost every broom stick in the school. and i got slapped by the head master.

life ends when we leave school. i didn't know why dad would sit out at the yard and smoke every night. he'd kicked mom out of the house. i hate the way the house was. i wanted to see if smoking solves problems.

life ends when we leave school. one of us would use a note book to draw up characters, each with different skills. the rest of us would choose one, and play his game. we'd play all day long at the back of the class. a gas lamp caught fire one day in class, cos the teacher didn't know how to use it. everyone left, but we were in the middle of a battle with a boss. we couldn't leave. we didn't, until the fire extinguisher fogged up the whole class room.

life ends when we leave school. we all went to the same secondary school. things were fine for a while, but we'd find new friends. adrian and kel met some gangster kids and started hanging out with them. eric and jun made new friends. i did too. a whole new world for us.

life end when we leave school. we were 15 when adrian left us. he had to go to a faraway place to stay. then there were 4 of us. it didn't mattered much, cos we all had our own friends to hang out with. but we still felt one less.

we'd save up money all week. we'd come early to school to play some b-ball. then we'd go eat at mc donalds with our week's savings. and we'd head up to the 4th floor for some arcade games. snooker maybe. we would feed the horsies too. there's this shop that'll charge us 3 bucks an hour to play ps games.

life ends when we leave school. we were 15 when kel left. he got into trouble and had to leave for a while. it was quite a long while. the next year, me and jun would walk from school to the bus stop everyday. we'd smoke at the phone booth in front of the police station. the booth's gone now. so is the blue building we'd always hang around, stealing action figures and smoking at the stairways. in the other building, some of us would steal east paks and pens and sell them to other students.

life ends when we leave school. at 16, me and jun would skip almost all the classes that year. except for modern math. the teacher got our respect somehow. i'd skip school and sleep at home. then they'd come knocking on my door. they'd drag me out for counter strike.

we'd sit in a mamak stall, 5-6 people chipping out money for a pack of ciggarettes then costing less than 5 bucks.'tabung haji' we called it, with no disrespect whatsoever. each puff and each stick meant alot, and we'd pass each around to minimise the time the ciggarette was left burning itself out. it was wasteful. we'd talk about the day when each of us would have our own packs of ciggarettes. how cool would that be.

people around us were already getting into drugs and serious gangster shit. i'd try the drungs out. i'd be high while i was catching a bus home. many times, actually.

life ends when we leave school. we'd spend weekends at each other's place, hang out from dusk till dawn. we always said we're blessed with 24-hour mamak stalls. we were. there were snooker centers and horsie centers as well. every weekend, one of our friends would have a birthday party. at least that was what our parents kept hearing. sometimes my mom won't let me out, but she could never stop me.

kel would come back from time to time. he'd expect us to be the same as before. we couldn't be. he gets disappointed when he comes back to his friends who'd already be hanging out with new friends, no longer the same. he can't blame us. he left. we can't blame him, we'd expect the same.

we'd get into fights. not me. i'm always the reactive one. meaning i only hit you when you hit me. and when i start hitting you, run. keep running and hope i lose interest. anyway, they'd always get into fights, and we'd always back them up. our policy is: whack now, talk later. we'd usually talk when we see blood on the ground. how to make blood? you'd be surprised how helpful house keys can be. sometimes we end up finding out our friends were at fault. what was done was done. at least we had fun throwing a few punches and kicks.

we skipped school one morning and we hung out at the stair ways outside the arcade in the blue building. some kids inside were smoking. amateurs. one guy went in and took their ciggarettes out. the kids came for them. i told them to go home and learn how to smoke in their toilets, cos it's embarrasing to not know how to smoke and carry ciggarettes around.

life ends when we leave school. things were great when we were 17. exams are coming, but since it was too late, there was nothing to worry about. we'd fail anyway. some of us learnt to drive. but because petrol seemed rather imposibly expensive back then, we didn't do much travelling.

spm ended. we knew we'd screw it up. no shit, sherlock. one guy made a school stamp. another learned how to forge the signature. many of us got into college using forcast results. the rest of us took the time to have some fun. going up to genting for the 'smoking in a cold weather' sensation, going to pd just because one of us wanted to smell the sea.

life ends when we leave school. that's what i think. many may disagree, saying life goes on, and life is when we make millions. i say money and status is crap. we had so much fun without much money. we had friendship. people who'd pick you up when you fall, back you up when you're bullied, take the fall with you when you're caught. life has ended. now, we're like fishes in an aquarium. we swim around all day for food. and we eat so we have the energy to swim.

now, there's still 5 of us. working people. some already planning to settle down and taking it to the next level: parenthood, others taking roads less travelled. we all had fun when we were living. the least we could do now is allow our next generation to experience it. because life ended when we left school.

He had to go for his CS game (Facebook note)

He had to go for his CS game, but there was still time. It was only 12.30 pm, and school hasn’t ended yet. At least not for those who went to school that day. There was a restaurant somewhere in Oldtown. Upstairs was a snooker center. They went there often, but never to play snooker. The cues were crooked. The tables were bad. The balls were never polished. Nobody goes there.

He walked up the stairs, counting the time he had before the game. There was still time to kill. Nobody was in the snooker center, save 5 of his friends. Some were laying on the snooker tables almost unconscious, others playing free snooker games. The counter guy was holding a cigarette self-wrapped into a cone shape, lit. The game was already paid for, just not by cash. He joined his friends, dropping his school bag aside. There was nothing in his bag but his school shirt. Maybe a pack of cigarettes. He couldn’t remember.

One guy was rolling a new stick. He pulled out some chopped up leaves from a plastic bag and laid them onto two cigarette papers. The smell of it escaped the bag. Bad, but good. Peppery and fresh, somewhat. His friend told him this was good. Better than the others before. This was fresh from up north. Mango, they called it. He took a drag. He couldn’t tell it if was good. He had another. Before he knew it, he was laying on a snooker table, unable to lift his head. It’d spin. His lips were dry. His throat was dry. He’d ask for the lady downstairs to get him a drink, but he was too busy enjoying the moment.

He’d left the center, walking toward the bus stop with his school bag around him. He couldn’t remember leaving the center or getting off the snooker table. The wet market was to his left now. He could smell the stench of death looming in the atmosphere. He could come up with big words when he was in that state. He smiled wide. A car drove to the side of the road in front of him and came to a stop. An old blue car. He couldn’t make out the brand. He walked up to the car, and saw no one in it. It can’t be. He didn’t see anyone leave the car.

He was already sitting in the bus stop, waiting for his bus. He must, must, must get on Bus 27, and nothing else. Bus 27 Bus 27 Bus 27 Bus 27 Bus 27. He had to make sure it was the correct bus. A friend was there. He was asked questions, and he answered without knowing what he’d said. They talked for quite a while, and he had to make sure his friend didn’t suspect a thing. He couldn’t remember what they talked about, or what he said, but his friend seemed quite entertained. He was, too. But not by the topic of conversation.

He blinked, and he was in a bus. A ticket in his hand. Bus 27. How did that happen? The bus floated up and down, like a boat. It swung left and right like a boat. He was out of the bus now. The place seemed familiar. Old Klang Road was the hardest road to cross, he thought. To him, maybe. And at that time, maybe. He might die. He needed to concentrate. A truck might hit him. He couldn’t estimate the speed the cars were coming at. He might end up in the hospital, with the doctors finding out what was in his head. He was already walking in the inner roads. He stopped and saw Old Klang Road behind him, the sound of traffic already drowned by distance. The cyber café was just in front.

He logged in and began configuring his keys to the CS game. When he got in, he played. Something was wrong. When he strafed left, the character moved right. Must be his head, he thought. But should he believe his eyes or his hands? His hands. The eyes are closer to his head, and his head wasn’t in proper working order, he thought. He moved according to how he remembered the layout of the map would be, and started shooting at walls. There’s an archway with doors, he thought. Someone should be there, he thought. No. this is not right. He went out and checked his key configurations. He had set it up wrongly. How stupid that would look to those who noticed.

He couldn’t use the MP5. He couldn’t use the AK47. He’d keep dying. Let’s try the sniper, he thought. With every click of the mouse, the bang echoed in his head. He’d shoot so fast, the only way to know if he’d killed someone was when the cash counter turned green. He’d click 50 frags in the open server before his friends arrived half an hour later. The thing in his head would also already fade away. He wished there was some more to keep him in killer sniping form that day. And they lost the game that day. 

Selfish Shellfishes

There is no such thing as selflessness. To be selfish is to be human. To be selfish is to live.

Animals are selfish. Lions fight each other so they can get all the hot lionesses for themselves. Trees grow higher and shade out everything below so they can get all the sunshine and leave nothing for the weaker competitors.

Through our entire course of life we make decisions. We think about ourselves when we make these decisions. Most of all ourselves first, over anyone else in the world.

You're in a cafe with your beloved little brother/sister/mother/father. You've been longing for that legendary blueberry cupcakes, and you know he/she also like them very much. But you've been craving for them all week. You decided to let him/her have it, because you love him/her more than the cupcake. You probably walked out feeling all fuzzy inside, convincing yourself you've been a selfless person today. Wrong! You let go of the cupcake for a greater prize: feeling good. You were being selfish in there just now because you wanted to give him/her that cupcake. It wasn't taken from you, you gave it away. And got what you actually wanted: feel good.

Your partner and you have been together for years now. He/she met up with you to tell that you both need to go separate ways. You didn't want to let him/her go, but agreed thinking: 'Well, if you love somebody you gotta let him/her be free and happy'. Amidst the break up depression, you felt somewhat relieved. You did a selfless deed today, and it's something most cannot perform. Not true! You gave him/her up so he/she can be happy, because that will make you  happy. In the end it did come down to your own wellbeing.

You're a manager in a multinational company, chief of at least 30 subordinates. You teach them well, hoping that one day someone would be able to take your place. Do you think you're special because you are big enough to risk your own seat for the greater good of the company? The truth is far from that. You do well because that's what you're paid to do. Sure, not many bosses do that nowadays, but that's what makes it better! When someone do take up your seat, you'll be sure to take up your boss'.

You are driving one day, and stumbled across an idiotic road hog. He swerved out of the junction onto the road inches from your car bumper. You honked a "Yo, watch out!", and he mistaken it for a hostile honk. He stopped you at the side of the road, and was already asking for a fight. You have to rush to work. You decided that despite the flaring anger in your heart, to let him win and apologized for the misunderstanding.  You're naturally an egoistic person, but this time let someone else win instead. You're happy you realized you're not that selfish after all. But you are. You merely let him win because at that moment something else is more important for you than winning that seemingly pointless argument.

You'll soon realize that every decision you make in life is a selfish one. Because although you made it to make someone else happy, the fact that you become happy when he/she is happy, you're only thinking about yourself. The only difference is when you're being selfish and thinking about yourself, do you stop to become selfish while also making someone else better off? Its in our nature to be selfish, because it is the essence of every living being's survival instincts.