This passage is with respond to Alvin and Vivian’s incident of what we called it the “sex blog incident”.

while they have a sex blog, I have my good old companion here.

Fortunately, media hasn't found this blog yet. *chuckles*

Dear Alvin and Vivian,          

I’ve read about you, and I’ve read about the coverage from the media and how that made you a famous pair. Call me conservative, call me naïve, call me a fool manipulated by the media--anything. And my deepest regrets for using words too simple here. 

We all know who you are---Law undergraduate students, at the prestigious NUS school, with the ASEAN scholarships in hands. I did not deny the fact that those are impressive achievements, and those titles may signify you as a person who is capable and independent enough to form your own opinions on your life.

Yes, I wish not deny your rights in having the freedom of doing what you are right now. In fact, you and I both know the notion of being right or wrong is subjective.

However, I would like you to know this terrible truth about freedom—it is only to a certain extent.

While you can view yourself as any ordinary individual on the streets doing what he likes, I would like to, kindly, remind you that you are a foreigner in an open country with a scholarship. That means you have a lot at stake—apart from your scholarship and the future (like you don’t know, and like you will care), I would want you to know that you are representing Malaysia in Singapore.

Not quite a choice you are in control of, not quite a burden you find pleasant, but the moment you received the offer from ASEAN and NUS, you are already labeled as such.

While you can use your eloquence and skills in talking yourself out, that you bear no responsibility over anyone, I would like to remind you that this is not true. You do have a responsibility. A responsibility too small that it is not a surprise that intelligent future lawyers like you would have missed it.

You bear an identity beside your name. Removing all the titles as a scholar and a law undergrad student, beneath that all, you are a Malaysian. And while you are comfortably sitting there with a chance to pursue your studies, and with your studies sponsored, I would like to gently remind you that there are a thousand kids in Malaysia who yearn to do so.

How is that got to do with me? you asked. Well, I said, because of what you’ve did, the media found you. And unfortunately, the public do trust the media to a certain extent. What you did may be as trivial as a peanut to you—after all, we shouldn’t be minding your business, no? 

You can never imagine your impact on the other Malaysians. Imagine this, how would scholarship committees, school principals ready to admit prospective students think of Malaysians now? How about the employers? The black mark that you’ve left (unfortunately, that black mark left in their heads in out of your control, and out of mine too—well unless you want to change the color black to orange) may costs some talented students and people from Malaysia being barred from entering this country.

And you and I know how many Malaysians would love to come here just to escape the unjust system at home. While it may be arguable that this is not entirely true, it is not false to say that this country may offer more than what our government can do at home. 

Therefore, before you speak every word of defiance, remember those at home trying so hard to earn a path here. I’d hate to see their chances deprived, I’d hate to hear rumors of fewer scholarships offered to Malaysian students, and I’d hate to know those disappointments and crushed hopes.

And be reminded you bear that responsibility, and there is no way of running from it.

Call it a restricted life. But it isn’t. 

Greek philosophers said that each human being bears a responsibility to the society. Yours is to the Malaysian society. And of course, the Singaporean society who has paid for your education, silly.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/why-i-called-you/

Wanted to share this article for a reason. The narrator was too afraid to face her former lover and tell him how she feels.

I did what she did not. I wrote a script, called, and there goes every single thread of the truth.

As I hung up, I tore the script into bits and recycled it (thanks to my innate green-ing efforts). If you want me to recall what I've written, I don't bother. Well, I have an incredibly short term memory, and I tend to forget things when I choose to.

To all the broken hearts in this world, if you are strong enough, you can do this. I did it; it saved a lot of my time and brain juices wandering around.

And before you knew it, you have gotten over that person.

Making mistakes is not easy, it requires someone who's willing to learn, is confused, and courageous.

Realizing your mistake is not easy, too. It requires a person to stand up, to climb out of the pit, and start accepting the fact that he is imperfect.

It is an art, too.

Lets collect our artworks of mistakes and put them in a museum called experience.

Who, is this?

I believe most of us, including my parents themselves may have wondered who they really are at this stage of life. I guess it happens to this generation as well, looking at how some of my friends transform from conventional convent girls to bubble-chewing groups of four and five, or even those who choose to stop believing in the silly voice in their head, or even some losing the glitter in their eyes and their smile getting thinner and thinner. I, myself, similarly to any other ordinary teen, am still and will be doing the same thing for years to come: to continue questioning myself who I really am. Thus, my title for today’s project would be the same as most of the lines in my diary: Who is this?

I must admit I am a girl with who appears to be composed on the outside, and have the loudest mind on the inside. I am a girl capable of sitting in a corner of a room and start wondering, or maybe wandering at the same time. And I realize that the most frequent question in my head is : Who am I? Why am I behaving this way? Did my actions hurt the others? Now this may seem like a sign of an individual who is too self-conscious, but this is who I am, no matter how hard it is for me to deny it.

Having admitting myself for being self-conscious, I shall start with this list of what-I-am-not.

First, I am not a good painter. The fact that I can’t draw well has been made clear to me since the age of 5—when I awkwardly painted the sky orange and Mickey’s face blue. Neither my teachers nor parents could tell that this made me a far worse artist later. I am also a lousy basketball player. Looking at my height, I would imagine there is a need for further elaborations. Basketball is only one of the many ball games I am clumsy at—there is a whole list of ball games that I have attempted but to no avail. Being eloquent certainly isn’t my strength. I am not the kind of person who can be convincing, and it is even harder for me to convince a cat to come down from the tree. And this made one of the many reasons I joined toastmasters.

I have ambitions, I have dreams. These things had influence me to make decisions in life.

And somehow it crushes me at the same time.

At this point of time, I had attended seminars and motivational camps. Regardless of the organizers, there is a consensus of them wanting the youths to “chase after your dreams”

“Luck is when preparation meets opportunity” one says.

“The richest place on earth is not the king’s palace,” one said, “not the central bank, but the cemetery. Thousands and thousands of people died with their dreams, unfulfilled. Do you wish that happen to you”.

And these, these are the little, little quotes that became my mantra in my studies.

Until I got my hands on Nigel Marsh’s book : Fat, Forty and Fired.

In short, this book taught a person, the reader, how to juggle everything better. Nigel’s way, he claimed in his book, is to have a balance of everything. Of course, balancing work, life and family is always a task to mankind since the dawn of technology and start of globalization. Chasing after money and fame doesn’t seem that appealing at all. Mhhmm, made me think again.

And in this process of thinking and wondering, I often take the brave step of trying out myself, landing myself in mistakes, which, my parents often back me up with confidence and love.

They say mistakes may either build or ruin a person, but I believe, in this 18 years of my life, mistakes has shape every piece of me. Even the smallest mistake made may still be recalled. Most of the scars that left me staying in the dark for some time will in turn make me a more resourceful and careful person, and this is the proudest trait I have as a person : being a kinesthetic learner, I’m willing to go through mistakes and experiences to learn

The biggest mistake I’ve made so far? Choosing to come to Singapore for a college education. It is, no doubt, a blessing in disguise; but I still choose to perceive it as a beautiful mistake that took me so far away from home and landed me in a place with immerse pressure, expectations and a silver line ahead.

I grew up in a small town called Ipoh. When I was young I had no idea that I’ll grow up one day and be proud of this beautiful town. Of course, the history lessons I’ve taken in school is far from letting us reaching out to the depths of the truth, or the incredible hardships of my ancestors who once settled in this town, discovered and extracted tin ores that had led to the development of this town. Still, Ipoh is a far from being a wholly developed piece of land. I wonder, again, if the authority is really that lacking of time or resources, or, sadly, their very own commitments to put their heads together for Ipoh’s development. There was a moment in my life, when I was around 13-14 years old, that I decided to run for parliament after I saw the despotic way that the traffic police handle road-users. I dropped that idea 4 years later, realizing that sometimes, becoming a politician might not make me a person who makes changes for the benefit of the people.

Growing up in a family with parents who lost their chances of education at a young age, I often am depicted as a normal student. Indeed I am, and I must admit that I am one normal person, no matter how much I hate that fact. My father, a smart and athletic fellow, lost his chance to make his first step into university when he became complacent in college. My mother, the only daughter of a family with 8 sons, had to forgo her studies when her father lost his only job as a performer. (During those days, Malaya was not a place that appreciate arts. Being multitalented in musical instruments was not able to allow my grandfather to put bread on the table). Nonetheless, my parents are determine to educate us. I can vaguely remember my mother staying up late just to know some sense into my on a math question. It was well past midnight, well pass the sleeping time for 8-year-olds. Yet she was still there with me in the dining hall, sternly, firmly, holding a piece of pen and paper, lecturing me. That, ladies and gentlemen, shapes my respect to my two old men. One year being away from them deepens the respect. I would love to honor them today by telling their stories in my very first project in Toastmasters.

I shall conclude this, humbly saying that I am a normal girl with a loud and, still confused mind. I am praying hard that this head of mind could hold a lot more big hard facts in months to come towards A levels. I’m praying for my head to have enough prudence to build a big heart in me, so that I could make a change in someone else’s life.

Ladies and gentlemen, I conclude this with a thank you,

sincerely from,

This is me.

How to get rid of Friends who don't believe in you.

First, realise that they are not your friends.

Second, since they are not your friends, have no qualms in leaving them. There's no contract signed between you and him to be stuck in a goo out of place together. Nor there is any emotional attachments, no matter how good your friendship was.

3rd, realise that there shouldn't be anyone there to give you all the confidence. Believe or not, none of their business. You're lucky if you get no cynical friends, but there are. So live with it, or just leave.

"If you are a strong female, you don't need permission"

I wish the world will be this in time to come. And every woman will rise to be brave. 

I'm one of them too, and every now and then, we are praying, even there's only one, person to believe in us. 

This perfectly contradicts the first statement. 

However, if you're praying for a person to believe in you, I'll be the one, my friend.

Ich bin mir absolut klar, meiner Ziele, und ich würde nicht dafür entschuldigen.

I saw a girl--not one with a meek figure
You can imagine her as an athlete  : she looked strong.


And she was crying.


I guess she has been hurt, on the inside.


I can't really say a single word of comfort, so I walked away.


"Sakit tentu ada obatnya, tapi sakit hati sulit obatnya"--from an Indon artist.



I'm sorry I did that to you.