Clarity

Clarity

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Just to clarify things..

I DO NOT (notice the capital letters?) masturbate 10 times a day.

There. Now, down to serious business.

________________________________

Did you ever know that reading too much romantic fiction can cause you emotional overload?

I knew.

But I read incessantly for more than a hundred hours.

Naturally, I broke down last night. Especially since the book that I had been reading was of the Dark-Hunter variety. Seriously, I applaud the males who are able to stomach so much violence. Me? I keep thinking why the effing hell is there so much evil on this earth? It's not even ours, and we dare taint it that way.

Anyways, the last book I read last night was Devil May Cry.



I have only a few words to say.

Acheron is hot.

Full-stop.

Gaha. Not really. Actually, I'd really love to say some other words as well. Firstly,

Screw Artemis. God, have I ever said I love her? Scratch that; I loathe her. Gawd, how can you screw with a guys head like she did? Granted, she was hurt as well, but she ruined everything, just because of her pride. Sherrilyn Kenyon's take on Greek gods and goddesses is that they seriously enjoy fucking things up. Makes me glad I'm not involved. Haha. But being apart of a pantheon must be really cool.

Secondly, Sin is hot. And uber funny. And Katra is damned cute, sarcastic, and bloody sexy (please don't strike me where I stand, Acheron... OMG, when you start thinking fictional characters will strike you on the spot, you really need a life).


BEWARE, spoilers:

Hiding his amusement, he jerked his chin towards his desk. "Get your butt over there and start reading before I beat you with my Rod of Time."

She tossed him a playful look. "I can think of much better things to do with your rod than beat me, baby."

Sin made a painful noise. "Aww, gawd, we've degenerated to really bad punage. I yield. Save me before my IQ points are damaged."

Ah, and that bastard Kessar taught me something new that made me crack up.

He smirked at the man's pain. "What is that quaint human expression I learned last night? Sometimes you're the dog and sometimes you're the hydrant?" He tsked at Zakar. "Guess you're the hydrant today, eh?"

I love Kish. He has this sunny sort of sarcasm and humour. He's the highlight of the side-character team. Haha. So's Damien. They're like two peas in a pod. Kish predicts gloom and doom; Damien finds the ways to reach gloom and doom.

Ah, I love Daimons.

Katra: There's a Daimon working in your casino!
Sin: I know. But he eats the soul of people who deserve it only.
Katra: But when you eat corrupted souls, you'll be influenced by them. You should know that.
Damien: I've been around for 700 years; that's gotta say something. You've just gotta learn to hum real loud. That way you won't hear their shit inside your head.

Damien and Kish. My new baby boo.


Facing total annihilation, and world destruction...

"Let's be positive, shall we?" Kat said in the voice of a kindergarten teacher, "Let's pretend that we're all going to survive this."

Kish grinned. "I'm with Kat. I like her plan. A lot."

____________________________

Damien scoffed. "Uh, boss, hate to be pall, but I think everyone we can gather is currently here in this room."

Sin paused to look at Simi, Xirena, Damien, Kat, Kish and Xypher. It was a pitiful number of defenders. But it was all the world had. "In that case, we need to seriously arm ourselves."

Damien crossed himself. "Hail Mary, full of grace--"

"What are you doing?" Kish asked. "You're not Catholic."

"Yeah, but I'm feeling really religious all of a sudden and it seemed like a good idea."

________________________________

See what I mean?


Oh, let us not forget Xypher!

Xypher: So, any game plan?
Sin: Don't get killed.
Xypher: Simple, bold. Impossible. I like it.

Mind, Xypher's an Oneroi. A very vicious Skoti (plural, Skotos, I think): a Dream-Hunter that lives on the emotions of the humans they haunt/guard/encounter, as opposed to the Oneroi who have no feelings at all. None. Zilch.

Although Xypher caused fear and horror in the dreams of thousands the humans he haunted, he still had a heart (despite the fact that one of the humans he haunted burned himself to death to escape the nightmares).


Overall, although, I'm still smitten with Seize the Night, Devil May Cry is not so bad. It's pretty okay. Sherrilyn Kenyon seemed to gain back her wit from before towards the end of the story.

Oh, and another thing I loved about the book?

Ash: Forget medieval-- I'll break Atlantean on his ass if he hurts you.

Yahh, Sherr Kenyon does dialogues like a bloody charm.

Oh, and from that, I got to know about Pulp Fiction. I am so downloading it. Can't wait. At all.

*Sigh*. Like I said from up there, I had an emotional melt-down. After reading Devil May Cry, I really felt the need to cry (ooh, bad punage. But nevermind). And so I did. It just broke my heart and I just don't know why. Although it had a somewhat happy ending, I'm still devastated for some reason.

Lesson learned: Do not read Sherr Kenyon's book four-in-a-row. It really, really drains you.

Anyways, I'm off to read Minx. Haha. Minx is by Julia Quinn, so I suppose I'll be fine. And it's Dunford's story.

A drool-worthy Regency hero if ever there was one.

... Okay, there are a lot of drool-worthy heroes then, but hey, Dunford's at the top-most rank now, followed closely by Gregory and the Bridgerton brothers.

Oh my gawd. If I am ranking fictional characters... I am so toast.

Kessar: You can't use the staff here in public!
Sin: What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Besides, it's Sin City for a reason.

And here I was, begging you.
Silly me.
I should've just bribed you.

Nana Munchkinssy.

Nana Munchkinssy.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I can say I'm smart, and state that I wrote this post last so that it would appear first when people open my blog.

But sadly, I lie really badly (when it matters) so I won't even try.

____________________________

How did I meet her?

I remember I heard people say, "Someone fainted!"

And I remember that people said it was "Siti Farhanah." I was like "wow... someone has felt how it is to faint. Lucky her."

Haha.

Okay, that aside, I don't remember when we first met. But I do remember us being in the same school since we were teeny-tiny kids.

I remembered the fact that she was the one who has the name nearly similar to mine.

Nearly, people, nearly.

Eitherways, somehow, I don't remember a time when I have not seen Nana around. It actually feels like she's been with me all along, growing with me, joking with me, and basically just being there, being a friend.

It's fun having her around. Her views are refreshing. Very much so since we differ quite a bit. I respect her. And she deserves that respect.

And I love her like I would a true sister. Without the bickerings. Haha.

But anyways she's grown faster than I.

So all I can say is, I hope you've enjoyed the ride as much as I have. And you should know this: you are priceless.

And yes, you are invited to my and Yin's wedding. XD

Happy 17th, Nana!

*imaginary picture of Nana laughing*


the best things in life,
are more amazing with you.
Thanks for being a friend.

Because you are special.

Throwing pebbles and wondering.

Throwing pebbles and wondering.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Ok, when you check your blog ten times or more in a day, it shows you really don't have a social life.

OMG, I checked it twenty times.

I don't have a LIFE.

No truer words have been spoken.

Well, at least it made my honey laugh.

My honey = Yin.

Back off, affairs. I'm marrying Yin this Saturday. Haha.

____________________________

I wonder if life is that simple, and that complicated.

I wonder if things would ever be better, if there ever is "better".

I wonder why the grass is greener over there, where I'm not.

I wonder if I'm worth so little to some people.

I wonder if I can make people laugh more than others can.

I wonder if joy is the reason people love me.

I wonder if I could keep up being happy.

I wonder why I'm even here, when I could be there.

I wonder why I didn't go there.

I wonder why chasms are so scary to cross.

I wonder why he never loved me enough.

I wonder why she loves me.

I wonder.

And I wonder.

But never,

I'll never get an answer.






Yin, oh yin. You know you have me, hun. I've got your back. You'll turn out fine.

And do remember...

We're getting hitched this Saturday. XD

Haha.



If I could shelter you from life, I would.
But for now, I'll just give you what little comfort I can afford.

Rave

Rave

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I went on a total Dark-Hunter rave yesterday. It was like a race to see how fast I could finish the books.

They were delectable.

Oh, Afzan, I feel like torturing you.

Is it working?

Are you feeling sorely tempted?

Are you drooling?

Please tell me you are.

You most definitely are.

Oh yes. The coup de grace.

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. It's Dunford's story.

All of the above books belong to me.

Including this one. *groan*
I'm still not done reading that one. Ugh.

I am obsessing over Dark-Hunters. And Were-Hunters (Vane!). And Dream-Hunters. I haven't got a Dream-Hunter book yet though.

And Acheron. Oh, Acheron.

Went to MPH. And saw the Acheron book.

A month ago,

Amanda: Guess what I saw.
Me: A sex toy in the middle of a bookstore.

Okay, that wasn't it.

Me: OMG, you found Acheron?!
Amanda: Yes! It costs RM60 plus though.
Me: WHAT.

And we decided to not buy it yet. As much as we love Ash and his whole Dark-Hunter brethren, it's not enough to turn pauper for.

Then, I saw Acheron again this Monday.

RM 35.90.

WTF. Granted, it was paperback, but thank God!

I didn't buy it yet, though. I want to buy out all of the other Dark-Hunter series first, then I'll buy Acheron.

Oh god, are they turning Acheron into a movie? Please please please!

Wait... only IF the director is great. Then, yes.

I finished reading (re-reading) Kiss of the Night (Wulf), Night Play (Vane) and am currently drooling over Seize the Night (Valerius). I miss Kyrian's (Night Pleasures) story though.

Oh, and Amanda? Katra's not with Acheron, so we should get that thought out of our head right this moment. Call me old-fashioned, but I'm no big fan of incest.

*shudder shudder*

Okay, I'm not pretty sure if the two are related or not, but from my guilty-peeks of One Silent Night, I think they're related. Like really related.

As in Hey-Daddy-Oh-hey-Daughter related.

But don't worry. Katra's with someone else (Devil May Cry). *grin*

Please drool with me, Amanda, Afzan. I feel sick drooling over this by myself.

Haha.

.... You know what I like most about my phone's camera?

It makes my books look new when they actually aren't. Thank greedy people for dysfunctional cameras. I just don't like when it makes me look super ugly. But that's just vain-me talking.

I know someone who perishes at the thought of dysfunctional cameras. Too bad. The said person would have to live through it; it's life.

________________________________________

Right, to more sensible talks.

I experimented today. Hah, like I don't always do.

Omelette with Tuna.

Nyumm. I can't stand breakfast without protein. And plain protein would not cut it.

And so, I took out a can of tuna, and mixed it with mayonnaise (not the whole can of tuna, mind). Damn unhealthy, but I can't think straight in the morning. The monster in the tummy was enraged that it is not being fed. So, to shut it up, I couldn't stop to think about 'oh many calories does this hold?' could I?

Once I was done, I cracked an egg, and diced some shallots (no, it does not cause bad breath, but what did I care? It's not like I have someone sleeping with me.). Adding just a tad bit of salt, I beat the egg plus the shallot and salt.

Then, I took half of the tuna and mayo, then dumped a full dollop into the egg (mixture? solution? batter? What the hell).

Yes, it looked creamy, yellow, and somewhat disgusting for people who get easily queasy. No one's asking you to look, though.

I beat the omelette mixture again, until it's slightly a bit frothy (I have no sense of right or wrong in the kitchen, so sue me). The pan was already heated, and so was the oil, so I simply dumped the batter into it.

Crackle, pop.

Seriously, it's not painful at all when you get a little bit of heated oil on your skin. It stings a bit, and it makes you jump, but it's not that painful. After years of tossing things into the pan with crackling oil, you get used to it. Sure, you get scars, but they fade and disappear entirely after some time.

And so, while my omelette starting taking shape, I grabbed the remnants of tuna and began spreading it out on the hardening surface of the omelette.

This omelette turns brown faster than most, though, so I quickly flipped it.

Yes, it's still scary to flip an omelette that is solid on one part (the bottom) and liquid on the other (the upper). Although you've done it more than ten-thousand times, there's still the chance of it not solidifying enough, so your omelette ends up looking like mush.

But hey, if no one else wants to eat it, screw them. You're cooking for yourself. That's the beauty of it.

But mine turned out fine. Haha. Although, it was rather brown on one side, it was okay.

The taste is absolutely de-lish.

It had enough creaminess, enough fishi-ness (gahaa. I love fish, so screw me), enough salt, and enough shallot to give it a slight tang.

My rating?

5 out of 5.

Haha. Yes, I'm a proud mother of what I cook.

List of things I've attempted to cook:

• omelette (of many varieties)
• sweet and sour fish
• fried bi-hoon
• rice (of course)
• fried rice
• curry
• stir-fry meat
• and the occasional kuih Hari Raya
• 
  

Omelettes of many varieties. Yes, I even put bits of nuggets in mine once. You know, fry the nugget, cut it into pieces and mix with the omelette batter. Yeah, I live on a dare.

And yes, my cooking is the epitome of unhealthy cooking. That's why you should keep me out of the kitchen, Ma. I'm gonna kill Dad with my cooking one day.

We wouldn't want that.

Would we?

*grin*



I'm sorry, but I love you too much.
That's why you really need to buy me the whole set of Dark-Hunter stories.
*grin*

A part of my face

A part of my face

As dictated by Faranza Syns

You can't give up,
When looking for a diamond in the rough.

-Gotta Be Somebody,
Nickelback.

Just a random post.

And hey you.

You who claimed to have a crush on me.

Why haven't you been around lately?

*Sigh*.

8 hours difference sucks to the highest order.

Pffft, I don't miss you at all. You're just trying to make me suffer. I know that. Ugh.

I'm off to bed.

Toodles.

Convict of my own mind.

Convict of my own mind.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

A scene from Spa Q 2:

Qistina: Marry her. Propose to her.
Zafrul: *looks pissed off, frustrated*
Qustina: I've said my piece. Now, excuse me. I nak pergi tandas.


WHAT THE HECK. All the way English, and then suddenly, when you need the loo, you go "I nak pergi tandas"?

That had me cracking up.

Not to mention that she was saying this with a measure of control. And there were subtitles.

Couldn't you just say "I need to freshen up"? Or just plain "excuse me" will do.

But "pergi tandas"?

It's like admitting you're going to pass motion.

Which reminds me... I searched the term "pass motion" at google. And oh my word, I stumbled across the most hilarious thread.


Excerpt from forum:


R Canai , Sat Feb 03, 2007 10:23 am GMT:

The term "pass motion" is often used in Asian countries such as India, Singapore, Malaysia etc. to refer to an activity that people do in the toilet to pass out the food from their stomach after taking their meals (a bowel habit).

I've been wondering what term Americans and brits use instead of "PASS MOTION" as in the following sentences??

"I tend to PASS MOTION after a meal. "
"If one eats a lot of fiber than one will PASS MOTION more often."


No offence to all. this is just for my/our knowledge. Thanks.

zzz:

I tend to have to utilize the facilities after a meal.
If one eats a lot of fiber then one will have to use the facilities more often.

Lazar:

That's interesting; I've never heard of that phrase "to pass motion" before. As zzz suggested, in the US you could say something like, "to use the facilities", or if you wanted to be more explicit about it, "to move one's bowels". I suppose you could also use "to evacuate".

Borat:

I need to make a toilet!

R Canai:

zzz , Lazar, and Borat,

Based on your suggestions, would it be COMMON or NATURAL then, for a doctor in the U.S. to say these to a patient in this sample dialogue??

Patient: Doctor, I think I have diarrhea.

Doctor: How many times did you use the facilities today?
OR
How many times did you move your bowels today?
OR
How many times did you evacuate today?
OR
How many times did you make a toilet today?


Please respond. Thanks.

Guest:

>> Based on your suggestions, would it be COMMON or NATURAL then, for a doctor in the U.S. to say these to a patient in this sample dialogue?? <<

A Doc would most likely say: "How many times have you pooped today?"

Real Ale Lover:

R Canai:
I think the term that equals your term is "bowel motion".

But why not just be honest and say: Did you crap today?

________________________________________

Ooh yes. How many times have YOU crapped today?

Not that I'm that interested to know about your bowel movement.


Anyways, saw my first eclipse of the Sun. I remember once upon a time that I used to write a book called "The Eclipse Raider". Raider. Ooh, it was so bloody romantic.

Eitherways, I was napping in my room. And then, I woke up, and couldn't get back to sleep. So I tossed and turned.

Then,

Ma: SIAPA NAK TENGOK GERHANA MATAHARI?

I was like, eclipse?

So I got up, and went to my brother's room. It was dark, except for the strips of sunshine streaming into the room, through the window, glittering like friggin pixie dust (omg, Peter Pan!). My dad was standing directly beneath it, with negative films over his eyes.

Then, he passed it to me.

I put the negative over my left eye, squinting, my right eye shut, and I saw it.

It was... amazing. Heck, it got me so excited, I don't think I need sex anymore. Not that I've ever had sex, but you get what I mean.

I mean, I was seeing the sun, and it looked like a crescent moon. That was uber cool. The ultimate aphrodisiac.

Romeo, take meh.

Not Jordan. Just Romeo. XD


Don't tempt me; your lithe swagger, your hip-shot stance, your black hair and leather jacket


Oh, hip-shot stance. That just makes me drool, I swear. Especially when they guy is narrow of hips.

*drool drool drool.*


He knelt to the ring,
And pulled out a ground, and said,
Marry me, alone,
You'll never have to be Juliet.


Yes, I was just checking if you guys were paying attention.

A New Chapter. (Because, because)

A New Chapter. (Because, because)

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Someone's feeling pretty restless these days.

Cheer up, big guy. ^_^ It'll turn out fine. Although you are "non-standard" (as you insisted you were) you're still human, so I'm sure you'll find your catharsis soon, and with that, you'll get back on track.

Give it some time. Just don't take too long. Or I'm gonna have to start sending you random SMS-es. And I seriously do not want to waste my credit on you.

Haha. XD

It's a new chapter all around. Start off with a clean slate (as clean as it can get).

And paint your world with the best mixtures of colour that you can. Just wing it. Do something crazy. Because you never know when you'll drop dead and start thinking "if only..."

____________

My Mokyyyyyyyyyyyyy~

is back. I am glad.

Life's been so dull without you, Moky. ^_^

Huggies!!



Losing yourself is a part of finding yourself
Give it time; you'll be just fine.

Dots and Splotches

Dots and Splotches

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I just had the greatest disillusionment ever.

Persimmons are so not preeeeety.

And according to Mama, in Malay, it's called Pisang Kaki or Kaki Pisang or something. Talk about a romance gone wrong. The name just turns me right off.

Oh, my illusions, my beautiful illusions.

Thus, to erase the images of not-so-pretty persimmons that I have seen with my own two eyes, I have Googled (ooh, my best friend, eh Tarr?) for a prettier picture of persimmons.

Voila.

AAARRGHH! They look like friggin' to-mah-toes!!

But then, when you cut it, it looks slightly more de-lish than before.

Ooh, my heart.

Don't worry. It still tastes wonderful. And it's prettier than the one I've seen with my traumatised eyes, so do not be misguided so as to save yourself from disillusionment.

God, I'm a pretty protected girl, aren't I? I don't even know how persimmons look like until recently. Haha. But then again, the furthest I've travelled is to Thailand (and yes, I saw the streets lined with porno DVD stalls) and that was a road trip.

I haven't been on a plane, except when I was really small, so go figure.

My dad used to work at many various countries; the U.S., Japan, China and some others I barely know of.

And he once got an offer from a U.S. company to stay on and work at the U.S. As in migrate to the U.S..

I could almost wring his neck when I found out he rejected.

I wonder what would happen if we had stayed on.

I might not be as fat as I am now, since I would be surrounded by self-conscious gits.

Or I might get involved in drugs, or end up killing half my school due to depression.

Or I might not be a virgin anymore.

Oh, the possibilities are endless, and they tend to lean towards the darker side of life. Sad, eh? But then again...

_________________________

Why is it called race?

According to the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, race brings forth many meanings. (OMG, I sound like what I sound during debate). There are three of which I would like to emphasise on.

They are:

One:

a test of speed

Two:

2 a: a family, tribe, people, or nation belonging to the same stock b: a class or kind of people unified by shared interests, habits, or characteristics3 a: an actually or potentially interbreeding group within a species ; also : a taxonomic category (as a subspecies) representing such a group b: breed c: a category of humankind that shares certain distinctive physical traits

And Three:

To compete in a race.

Have any of you noticed how the races in our country seem to be in a race?

So bloody kiasu is what I mean. And I mean not only on the road.

Different races are wary of each other, at times. There's always this sense of one-upmanship. If she does this, I can do it better. Soon, it became a contest of speed. It doesn't necessarily have to do with races. God forbid we should be racist! But then again, there's always the slipped comment of "oh, that Malay girl is not so bright." Or "that Chinese girl is as just as I expected her to be." It could be that we are trying to differentiate them so that people would know who to look for, but we can't definitely overlook races, eh?

People have the stigma that Malays are lazy. And Chinese are smart. And Indians are liars. (I'm NOT trying to be racist; just stating what I hear at times. Look at it this way; if I say you're bad, there are parts of me that are rotten too, so get over it.) So, with this stigma, some of us are pretty aware of how people stereotype races. And so, a select few of us try to break free from this stigma. And thus, a competition begins. And believe me, it's one heck of a race.

I wonder if that is why people named it as "race". Because classifying people just puts them more into the heat of competition.

And damn it, to live these days, it's like swimming in honey; you can't move much, and you tire easily.

Being in a race sucks (both ways, I suppose).


Dramatisation: kiss me till I die, breathless.

Stay away from Juliets -- they don't wash your clothes.

Stay away from Juliets -- they don't wash your clothes.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

A few days ago, while trying to finish the YPC banners (that weren't used in the end. pffft. dang), I was busy bustling in and out of the Visual Arts Room. Then, while I was about to bustle out again, Jordan called out to me.

Jordan: OMG, how la, Farhana?! My clothes!
Me: What? What?!

I looked at where he pointed.

There were blue spots there.

Jordan: Farhana, wash my shirt for me.
Me: *ignores order* Try washing it off.
Jordan: Cannot wash off *walks towards the sink eitherways*

The stain won't go away. Jordan handed me his tissue and I tried to scrub the paint off. "Cannot la, Jordan. Try bleaching it?" I asked, looking up at him.

"I tried before. Can't. The problem is, this is a new shirt."

"OMFG."

"Yeah," he nodded.

Then, we gave up, and picked up the pace again. I picked up a few things, spoke to a few people, then opened the big, old, bloody-hard-to-open, creaky door, and walked out.

Jordan: Juliet!
Me: Yes, Romeo?
Jordan: My shirt!
Me: *gives sympathetic look*
Jordan: You're my Juliet right? Wash my shirt for me.

Great logic, eh, Jordan?

Me: NO.

Then, I walked out and decided to throw in a parting line.

Me: Juliets don't wash clothes.

Hahaha. I'm sorry about the shirt, sweetie.

Jordan, you might be my Romeo, but I still won't wash your clothes for you. Hahaha.

Jordan: Good, your sister's in kawad.
Me: Haha.
Jordan: I'll make her slim in no time at all.
Me: Lol, sure.
Jordan: I'll make you slim down, too, if you want.
Me: ... hmmph!

Haha, what a Romeo.

Me: How come Romeo is so stupid?
Jordan: Juliet also stupid la.
Me: Romeo go killed himself-- and for what? Why did he drink the poison la. So stupid.
Jordan: Eh, Juliet also drank the poison.
Me: Romeo drank first! Stupid la. So impatient. Wanna die early. Romeo's so stupid.
Jordan: Juliet pretended to die for what?! Stupid la!
Me: Romeo should have waited la!
Jordan: Juliet la, so stupid!
Me: Romeo's stupid-er!

Yes, talking with Jordan just blasts my grammar all the way to hell. But it's bloody fun.

Let's just say both Romeo and Juliet are stupid, eh?

__________________

Me: What's the time now, darling? *leans down to look at Haseef's watch*
Haseef: Did you just call me darling? *flabberghasted*
Nurul: Ew!
Me: ... Why? I call everyone darling.

True, true.

Me: Yee Ming. Yee Ming! YEE MING, DARLING! YEE MING!
Kessler: *shocked* What did you call him?!
Me: *grin* Yee Ming, darling! Yee MING!
Yee Ming: *finally looks up* Yeah?

I wonder why guys get so surprised over this stuff? I call everyone endearments. I'm a sweet, artless girl. *grin*

Haha. Tosh.

__________________

I know we're no longer running in the same circles. I know seeing you at times rely mostly on chance. And plain old luck.

I smile, knowing you're finding more friends now. Finding more people whom you relate to. Finding more chummy pals besides me.

But that doesn't mean I'll forget you. Let's just hope our relationship doesn't fade off like a well-worn pair of jeans.

Because that would just kill me.

Okay, melodramatics aside, NO, it wouldn't kill me. It'd just be a damned waste, losing someone as great as you.

And vice versa. *wink*

Darling, it's generic.

Romeo: Marry me, Juliet, you'll never have to be alone

Juliet: OMG, that's exactly what I'm worried about. Having you around me all day. It'll drive me crazy.

Editted Birthday Letter to an Ex-husband.

Editted Birthday Letter to an Ex-husband.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Dear Damned Pei Sun,


I am so bloody happy crushed, pained, disgusted to hell and back that you have now reached the beautiful and joyfully delirious age old age of seventeen seventY. You are still as beautiful, smart, witty and gorgeous as before losing all your teeth and developing a beer-belly. You enthrall disgust me. I love loathe you more now than ever. I hope you will live happily by my side for many more years to come and your sex-tool will fall off when you're with your little eye-candy. Your laughter brings me higher sounds like you are a wheezing old man. I hope you will continue laughing, filling my days with joy for as long as you live choke on a chicken bone and die in constipation.

You came into my life like manna from heaven an old rusty, freight train. You're my joy as noisy as pigs when they want food. You listened to me whenever I needed to talk like poking your nose. It's bloody touching disgusting, sweetheart you brute. I'm glad I still have you around, right here, by my side I got rid of you. Your side of the bed is now mine, you old man.

Enjoy your seventeenth seventieth birthday,

Love From your ex-wife,

Farhana.


p/s: your present mistress is on the bed. Don't open it her clothes until your birthday comes our divorce is finalised.

______________________

Haha. I love you for who you are, Pei Sun. My friend, my confidante. My best damned ex-husband ever.

Happy Seventeenth Year, Pei Sun!

Love, your ex-wife.

Hugs, kisses, and maybe some Hersheys. ;p

Obeisance

Obeisance

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I'll tell you what I didn't do today.


I didn't:

• lie to Pn Normah that I lost my Maths book just because I didn't do my Maths homework
• go for my prefectorial duty
• skip Biology class
• change to my Shirtliff uniform until 10 minutes before practice
• buy nasi lemak for lunch, but opted for starvation instead
• sing Haru-haru more than ten twenty times today
• get mad, bad heart palpitations from the exertion of running.

Now I'll tell you what I did.


I :

• kept quiet during Maths, looking at Amanda's graph book
• went to the 2nd floor and rounded. (not my duty, but what the heck)
• smiled for the whole day, except for during Biology class
• attended debate tryouts. I bloody suck. Miss Nur thought I was faking it all because I don't want to debate this year.

Miss Nur: Farhana, you did that intentionally. You're making it worse for yourself.
Me: No! That was bona fide (I actually used the word. wow) fear!

• bought RM7 worth of sweetmeats and kuih. Fun, fun.
• I ran when I was told to for Shirtliff practice. And I'm proud to say that I was pretty good. Faster than some people even. Yay! Old me is back!

Actually, I was pretty reluctant to run. Ah well, it happens.

So, I asked Laine--

Me: Must I run?
Laine: ... I kinda expected you to.

Ouch. But I needed that kick in the ass. Haha, no offense and no sarcasm: thank you, Laine. Ooh, you're my new sounding board!

• Saw E Von. Sorry if my welcome was merely lukewarm with no stalwart, crushing hugs. Your appearance (and beauty, gahaha) had me stunned for the few moments we were speaking.

Yeah well. Basically that sums it all up.

________________________

During debate tryouts, Miss Nur told us all to sit in a group and discuss about the topics that she might use as questions.

And so, we sat in a circle. And crapped like mad.

Kim: You see, that's the best part about debating; you get to crap like hell.
Pave: We aren't debaters; we're crappers.
Dharr: The key to it all is crapping.

Then, a few other contestants came to the room. We made space for them. I was being really high (a normal reaction when I'm scared) and patted the floor beside me, asking the juniors to sit. "Come, come, sit!" I smiled. And they sat, smiling shyly.

Someone said, "I don't know why but people like to sit beside Farhana."

Kim: I dunno la. Farhana always has this sort of smile that's so...
Dharr: Yeah, yeah!
Pave: So sweet.

Seriously, I was just being high.

And so, when everyone has settled down, we finally decided to introduce ourselves.

"Let's start with Farhana!"
"Oi! Why me?"

Pave: Because Farhana's always the First Speaker.

Oi, what kind of logic is that?

Miss Nur: So are all of you ready?

The seniors and ex-debaters of the team shouted "NO!" whilst the newbies were being demurely quiet.

Miss Nur: What? I know Kim likes crapping, la, but all of you...
Kim: That's why I'm in the debate team, teacher.

Maybe, when Miss Nur asked us "What do you know about debate?", I should've formed a half-arsed answer.

Miss Nur: What do you know of debate?

Me: It's a place and time where you get to crap to your heart's content, and not be scared that your teacher will horse-whip you, because crap in debate is edible crap.

Smart, eh? Wonder why I didn't think of that.


The day before, I practically begged Miss Nur to NOT put me on the debate team.

Me: Ms Nur, may I just help this year, instead of debate?
Ms Nur: *looks up thoughtfully* basically, debating is helping out your team, so if you debate, you'll be helping
Me: Teacher, don't twist it like that, la!

Me: I'm not brave! I'll... wilt *motions wilting with hands*
Ms. Nur: And yet here you are, speaking to me and you have NOT wilted.

It's pretty damning to know that you were chosen to be a part of something just because of your race. Haha.

Me: Can't I just train the other Malay candidates?
Ms Nur: There are not many. And the ones who have signed up didn't show much promise.
Me: How about the candidates last year? So and so?
Ms Nur: At first they were alright; people told me that they can speak but after a while, they.... *motions with hand* wilted away...
Me: hahaha!
Ms Nur: Haha. Your words, not mine.

Ooh, it's so bloody fun being chummy with Ms Nur. She's strict, but she's real sweet, too.

But Ms. Nur, I don't wanna debate!

And yet, I came for the bloody tryouts. Dang it all. I just don't want to be on Miss Nur's bad side. *Sigh*. I guess I'll just have to be a lalang again.



A picturesque view; obeisance.

Or Maybe Not So Short.

Or Maybe Not So Short.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I just got a call. Okay, I know I said I wash my hands clean of the YPC thingy.

But let me just add one more thing.

Screw you to hell, back, and once again to hell, you bloody political-minded people.

How DARE you use us students as puppets?

You DARE make us feel honour-bound to perform?

You DARE dredge up the past to suit your advancement in career, into the hearts of people blinded by your pack of white lies?

Shame on you.

What about us, who busted our ass to make you happy?

What about us, who skipped classes, just to dance to your tune?

What about us, who tear our hair out, trying to please you?

YPC, screw you.

I don't care if I get ISA-ed or something. ISA me right away.

Ma: Students study. Teachers teach. But yet, you are all told to do all this...
Me: We barely have time to breathe. Study? Hah. I feel like a coolie.

Well, thank you for your kind consideration of our studies, YPC. Or better yet, as cliche as it sounds, I'd still like to say, NO THANKS.

No thanks at all.

No thanks for ruining my life for the past two days. I was too honour-bound and guilt-driven to even do anything else.

You'd better hope you don't get a rebellion in your hands. Cuz it's gonna be a nasty one, I swear.



And Afzan, I'm fine. I think I'll talk to you soon.


A kiss to the undead. A wedding for the unloved.

I'll make a long story short.

I'll make a long story short.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Screw YPC.

Screw Art.

Screw bloody protests.

Screw frigging "good intentions".

Because the road to hell is paved with them.

For you people who are excited for the protests tomorrow, screw you too. I'm in a pissy mood, so eff off. You think it's all hunky-dory, eh? Getting to snap happy, exuberantly righteous pictures of yourself protesting with the signs and banners WE HAD TO SCREW OUR OWN ARSES to get done within 2 days (approx. 15 hours)?! Banners and signs for 70 STUDENTS ______________ WITHIN 2 DAYS is plain BULL. Fun eh? Well eff you. I don't friggin care anymore. Protest all you want. I don't want anything to do with the bloody peace demonstration anymore. You can take all the signs and the banners and screw yourself silly with em. I wash my hands clean of this.

I have.. loads of homework to finish. I skipped class the whole day. I swear, I was going to go down to class for English, since it's the only class that I feel happy in. But it slipped.

Damn.

And the teacher in charge of the banner thingy... she didn't seem like she appreciated us. As a group.

I'm just bloody crushed. So bloody crushed today. A what? An anagnorisis, I think. I don't know if I should be happy for the disillusionment, or just plain sad that it always seems able to hurt me this way.


I don't feel like helping out anymore. Being the martyr is fun once in a while, being the good samaritan gives you pleasure at times. But being a lalang is NOT FUN.


I've had enough. No more, please. I'm done. I said I'm done; I'm done, I'm done.

I'll chant it all until it drowns out the other voices.

Meanwhile, you people enjoy life. I'll suffer by myself, thank you very much.


The road to hell is paved with good intentions?
Or something like that.

The Animal Song

The Animal Song

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Yesterday:

I wanted to read Yee Ming's composition for English. But of course, life without strings attached is barely life at all.

I was actually pretty "okay" with letting him read my essay. But then Amanda said "It's pretty good. There are a few grammatical mistakes...", and I whipped the book away.

Yee Ming: *Holds his book away* I'll let you read mine if you let me read yours.
Me: NO! *cue, horror-struck face*. Why would you wanna read mine?
YM: Have to read la. You're one of the best, so I have to see.

Gotta give him credit; he was pretty adamant. At the region of our secluded seats, a lot of fast-snatching and hiding happened. Of course, since he was pretty darned tall (with long, long arms) I did less snatching than he. Sheesh. And when I talk to him, I wonder why I haven't developed a crick in the neck yet. Looking up for a long time is bound to do that to you.

Eventually,I deigned him worthy to read my not-yet-complete composition.

Yee Ming: Wow, we are no match for you.
Me: What?
Yee Ming: I can imagine your 'unusual person', in great detail.

*Cue: glow from within*

That night:

Me: Hey, Yee Ming. It's Farhana. Finally decided to add you to my phonebook. ;p
YM: Lol, okay, I'll add too.
Me: Lol, kays.
YM: Eh, I liked your essay. Send me a few of your works for me to read?
Me: What? Why? I dun write much lately. And the ones that I'm done with were written when I was impressionable. XD the plot is like lalang; first here, then there, then everywhere.
YM: Lol, nvm then. Just wanted to pick up your style of writing.

How sweet. But then again all of us are developing our own style. We just gotta give it time, eh?

______________________

Today:


The YPC wanted 70 students from SMKSBU to hold up banners and signs to "scorn" (my word. too bad, I'm in a bad mood) the mindless murdering, cold-blooded bombing carried out by the Zionists, harming more than hundreds of lives; a good deal of which were children.

The cause was great enough. OF course I'd help out. I am a push-over after all. Whine a bit and I'd most probably be your slave for the next period of lalang-ness. But then again, Pn Sareah just got the letter from the YPC today.

The bloody YPC thingy is THIS THURSDAY.

Ooh, let us count how many days we have to prepare!

Oh... TWO!

Two days to prepare banners and signs for 70 students!

Bull****.

And so, Me, Nurul, Haseef and a select few other students gathered at the Visual Arts Room and got cracking. It was funny. Chew Andy was there too. Aww, the guy has trouble rolling the "rrrr" off his tongue.

With the way things went, I suddenly became the unconsciously-appointed Supervisor. Of course, I still help around, became the colour-consultant (God forbid, Haseef's colour-blind), called people sweetie/darling/sweetheart/romeo, and listened to Andy spout unnecessary-yet-welcome-and-laughable crap.

One of the girls is very, very talented. ;) Take a look at our banner on that day, and you might just be surprised.

We're continuing tomorrow. I've gotta finish the wordings for the signs. Sixteen -- 16! -- different sentences scorning Israel and supporting Palestin. I've been left high and dry. But well, at least I got to work in an air-conditioned room. Yay me.

While in the room...

Pn Aslinda: Kamu semua nak makan ke?
Me: ... Cikgu nak belanja ke? *grin*
Pn Aslinda: Ish!

Pn Aslinda: *hands RM60 to me*
Me: Ya, cikgu?
Pn Aslinda: Pergi la makan. Bahagikan RM 5 setiap seorang.
Me: Cikgu belanja?
Pn. Aslinda: Nanti YPC bayar balik.

x) Haha, kenakan YPC back, eh? Since they're making us work our bloody arses off...

Pn Noraini: Siapa nak makan, pergi makan. RM5 setiap seorang. Kalau nak makan, habiskanlah duit tu. Kalau tak nak, simpan la RM 5 seorang.

People, Pn Noraini's (the art teacher) table is fancy gila!

I was semi-scared to sit on her chair. It was the only one that was covered with cloth and designs.

Me: *typed while standing up*.
Ust. Izati: Aik, Farhana, berdiri?
Me: *grin*
Ust. Izati: Takut nak duduk eh? Kerusi cantik sangat.

Lol.

____________________

Life, you suck. But heck, you're pretty darned funny at times too.



To Julia and KM: Sorry if I was a bit abrupt with you guys just now. I was running on a short fuse and I exploded on you. Okay, it was just a small thing, but I shouldn't have done it eitherways.

Forgive meh.

Congrats on the board, Juls m'dear. You've outdone yourself.



Lovies,
xoxo.



Sometimes, it makes me glad that I'm more animal than human.
What full of bull**** "being a human" is.

Back against the wall. Breathe in, baby; I ain't ravishing you.

Back against the wall. Breathe in, baby; I ain't ravishing you.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I am about to watch back-to-back episodes of Roswell. All because of Abang Arnez. You'd better be thankful , Abang Nez. If I turn comatose, you owe me a whole bunch of graphic novels. Say, what happened to the ones that I used to read? I am still waiting for the continuation, you know.

Roswell. *dreamy look* *sighs*.

____________________

Me: ... Are all Jews bad?
Dad: Not entirely. Not all of them are bad.
Me: Really?
Dad:. Mmmhmm. You see, not all Jews are Zionists. Zionists are Israelis who want to form a state from nothing at the Gaza Strip. Not all Jews are Zionists. Look at this here-- *points at an article in the paper*

Jews against Zionism

Me: Oh... I see.
Dad: All Israeli's are Jews, but not all Jews are Zionists. Get it?

I guess I'm pretty ignorant if I didn't know this. But then again, I am still in the process of extricating myself from this protective shell. It'll take time. Bear with me.

________________

Was looking for my piano lessons book. Suddenly had an epiphany and wanted to resume my self-tutor lessons.

And the book is missing. OMG, I feel crushed. Now I have start from scratch; back to recognising notes. It sucks.

_______________

Ho, I miss you so frigging much. Yin, Afzy, even Kimmy.

And Shane, my baby. T__T .... You're making me cry.


Be happy, though. Despite me having other affairs to attend to (dual meaning intended), I still love you lot a whole bloody lot. So bloody much.


You can't ride two horses with one ass, munchkin.

Take my hand, take my life; just don't take forever.

Take my hand, take my life; just don't take forever.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Went to school today. Yes, I am Miss Goody-goody Two Shoes.

Miss Jehan protested quite violently about having to attend school on a Saturday. Alas, having a sister in the same school means your secret Saturdays are not secrets anymore. So, despite her very late night just a few hours ago, she had to be dragged, drowsy and befuddled, to school.

I'm sure you had plenty of time to sleep in the classroom, Jehan. Saturdays are so officially No-learning-if-there's-less-than-five-students Day.


________________


Me, Aly and Dharr were at the amphitheatre, talking. Then, since we didn't really want to go up to class (it was EST, you know), we went to help the Gates Prefects.

As we stepped closer, as we approached, we saw... a small boy surrounded by a whole flock of female prefects. Okay, it became a flock when the three of us joined in, but bear with me.

Me: Ohh, wow. They're accosting kids now.
Aly: Maybe it's Jia Xiang's brother.

Cue: annoyed silence. The group consisting of the little boy, Laine, Hazirah, Nurul, Mel, Julian, and Jia Xiang moved towards the small flight of steps beside the small gate.

Dharr: Jia Xiang!
Jia: Yeah?
Dharr: Do you even have a brother?
Jia: No.
Me: He's the only son. =_=''

And so, still not sure as to what was going on, me, Aly and Dharr approached.

And we saw tear-drenched lashes. Bow shaped lips red from the exertion of cries. A face masked with worry and coloured with a tinge of trepidation.

It was a boy in distress.

Laine guided the little boy to the steps and sat him down.

Boy: Is my mommy comin to fetch me?
Laine: Yes. Your mommy is coming to fetch you.

Then, Laine started asking the boy questions. Little, ordinary, none-too-world-weary questions. Your mummy driving what car? White also? What's your favourite colour?

Boy: I want to tell my mummy something. I lost my daddy already. I only have one mummy left. I don't want to lose my mummy, too.

Dagnabit, I feel like bloody crying.

Shall we begin to when it all began?

Laine was doing her Gates duty near the asrama, I think, with Hazirah. And then, the boy walked past, crying. "I want my mummy. I want my mummy."

Laine: At first, I thought he was one of those brats-- you know, the ones that are clingy and mengada-ngada.

But it turned out to be otherwise.

Laine asked him what was wrong. The boy had went to the primary school office and requested to call his mother. A teacher at the school scolded him for asking. (meanie! wtf, don't scold kids who are already so insecure!) So, he wandered around till Laine found him.

Laine: He was pretty scared to call his mom. Scared that his mom will scold him, you know.

Then, En. Bustamam walked past. He wanted to bring the boy to the office to call his mother.

"No! I don't want office! I don't want office."

Okay, sense the fear in those words?

So En. Bustamam called his mother (the boy's mother, not En. Bustamam's mother, mind).

Laine: We wanted to bring him to the Gazebo so that we can call his mother again. But he was so scared to go there.

Laine to boy,

Laine: See over there? There's your school. Look at the van there? So far from school right? Teacher cannot see you from the van.
Boy: *hesitant*
Laine: If the teacher come, we'll scold her.
Boy: Don't want to scold.
Laine: You don't want us to scold teacher?
Boy: Don't want.

I seriously wanted to hug the boy, real, real tight. He did not want us to scare the teacher away. Good lord...

His voice was low, quiet--solemn and hesitant. A child's voice, unsure, yet brave.

So, back to when Laine sat him down, got him at ease. She asked him about small, insignificant stuff.

Laine: Do you have a koko (brother, or however you spell it)?
Boy: Yes. My koko is studying at Sekolah Menengah Cheras.
Laine: How old is koko?
Boy: Koko is 16 years old.

Laine: Do you have a jiejie?
Boy: Jiejie is waiting for her results, so she helps mummy to teach at the kindergarten. She's doing

Not many boys as young as he knows what their siblings are up to.

Forget hugging; I wanted to abduct the boy and call him my own.

A boy, with the loss of a father, wanting to hold on to his mother lest she be lost to him too...

It's like something directly from a romance novel. The troubled hero.

God, I need more papercuts to keep me away from books, for now.

I already have two of them, as it is.

Boy, I love you so much. Is this what they call kismet?

_______________

There were too many awkward silences. Too many moments for us to think "this moment is awkward." And since you're new, I'll get you a news-flash: silence is good; awkward silence is bad.

Stew on it a while. Maybe then you'll find the real reason why it even had to happen at all.

_____________________

"It's like sex. It's like noises. Plus explicit graphics. It's like porn."

- Yin, on what porn is like.



A proem. Not a typo. A preface. Not mindless flattery. Just what I feel.

Proem, proem. Not a typo. Look it up.


A proem of chaotic proportions.

We Can Love It.

We Can Love It.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

So what if you seem hot?
My brother is hotter.
Disillusionment has never felt so good before.
For once, I skipped "Over You" in my MP3, and moved on to "Like Me".
For once, I realised you're not all you're cracked up to be.
For once, life has regained its lustre.
For once, I feel worthy of myself. And, it's true.
I am over you.



Oh damn, that bloody rhymes!



Haiku? I do poetry.
Haikus aren't my thing, unless they are in Nihon, desu.

Don't sink into quicksands.

Don't sink into quicksands.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Today was... *takes deep breath*

Can we not talk about it?

I don't know what happened. On Wednesday, I was pretty fine running three bloody laps around the field. More importantly, I can breathe once I was done.

Today's Shirtliff practice was (pardon the excessive rudeness) shitty. We were told to run two laps around the field.

By the time I was done, my calf muscles felt knotted, and I could barely pull in a deep breath. Against my unconscious objections, I think I'm developing a fear of not being able to breathe. Thanks to history of asthma and chest colds.

Amanda: It must be scary.

When I had the chest cold, I went to sleep praying I wouldnt die breathless. The irony of life just kills you, doesn't it?

I couldn't pull a deep breath after the run too. I know, I know, oxygen debt and so on, but it was pretty bad. No one realised it, but I was wheezing. So unattractive, but it happened.

My stamina couldn't have dropped that sharply, could it? It's just so frustrating.

But the practice, for once, was ... hype. Laine, our fearless, brave, extraordinary captain, was cheering us on, saying we've done very,very well.

Laine: For those of you who think you haven't done your best, it's okay! There's still chance to be better.

Laine, for once, I love going to Shirtliff practices. Although I didn't run the 100 metre race, I'll try to participate in everything else. Especially for shot putt. ;p

_______________

Xin Huei: Mommy!
Me: *Waves and smiles*
Jordan: Mommy!
Me: You're not my son, darling.
Jordan: *points at Yee Ming* that's Daddy.
Me: NO!

The best thing about talking to Yee Ming is that you just prod him, and he'll talk about Gears of War and so on. All you have to do is nod, interject once in a while, ask him a few questions, and he'll go on and on. But what he talks about is interesting. He practically lives in his room-- TV, XBox 360, computer, bed... it's a miracle it all fit in there.

He loves gore. Lots and lots of gore. He and Amanda... are the same. Gore lovers. Ech. I have a pretty darned weak stomach, as it is. So it's a no-g0 if I want to do Med. Sorry, Pn Haslimah. Doctor in Psychology, yes. Doctor in surgery, NO.

_____________________

Pn Donna: I was just telling Damalis here that when I go to your school, I'm like a celebrity.

Damn right, Pn. Donna. We love you that much. Haha. See? 5 years and still you're firmly entrenched within the deep recesses of our hearts.

I noticed that the girls quickly swarm Pn. Donna. The boys...

Pn Donna: TAN JIA WEI!

Jia Wei: *stops in his tracks, and waves*

He stood firmly where he was, 9 feet away.

Pn Donna: Come here.

Jia Wei: *trudges over*

It was funny, really. Pn Donna was asking him some things, and he murmurs answers, looking at me desperately, then looking anywhere but at Pn Donna.

Then, when Pn Donna finally ends the conversation, he fairly runs away.

I guess us girls have more balls (*snort*) than you guys, eh?

Even Tinash stayed away.

Pn Donna still strikes fear into their hearts, after so many years. How... touching.

_______________________

Finished training for Shirtliff, then bought ice-cream (despite my shortness of breath) and sat down on the curbside, beside Faisal, since he insisted that I sit down beside him.

He asked me the most random question:

"Who are you bringing to prom?"

Damn you.

Who's going to want to go to prom with me? Sad, but true, dear.

We've barely even started our trials, and everyone's already thinking of prom. *Sigh*

Faisal: Bring Azry, la.

And Azry walked past.

Me: Why would I want to bring Azry?

I know, beggars can't be choosers, but I have my pride to protect, darn it all.

Faisal: Farhana, Chu Meng thinks you're cute.

Me, I just don't know to believe him or not. Chu Meng was sitting right beside him, mind. But he didn't say anything. Just laughed.

Faisal: So cute, so cute, so cute, so cute, so round...

That just poofed any feelings of adorable-ness from my mind.

*Sigh*

Male characters in books: RM 32.95. The males in my life? Priceless.

Mine was a story that you told your friends,
Yours were the demons you couldn't defend.