Saturday, July 31, 2010

You Don't Know Jack

Lost's main character Jack Shepard. Great character.

Always trying to save people. Always ended up killing himself.

His relationships with people are always beset with problems, because he rarely sees them as people, but as causes to champion or problems to solve.

Of particular interest is his relationship with his father. Never having the old man's approval, he turned that into a superhero complex.

Jack went to Phuket and got a tattoo from a clairvoyant Bai Ling. It read, "He who walks amongst us but is not one of us."

Jack will always be the hero from Lost. God, I love that character.

Drunk With Power


Shove a Gerbil in Your Ass Through a Tube

You're all fucked now! Muahahahaha!

Good News, Everyone!

I was in the space between dreams and wakefulness when I got a call about one of my projects.

Apparently, my former employers are quite happy with how things turned out.

I can't wait to see it on the big screen. Muahahahaha!


I just saw the Lost finale again.

My Science, man. I love that show.

I can relate with a few of the characters. Jack's superhero complex, Sawyer's disdain for convention, Hurley's cheerfulness and later, faith, Ben's manipulative nature, Sun and Jin's loyalty, John's pathetic nature, Desmond's gifts and curse, everyone, basically.

I have never liked Kate, Juliet and especially Michael. Vincent the dog and Walt. Fuck 'em all. They should all die. Oh, wait. Ermm... Nevermind. No spoilers here.

The finale brought tears to my eyes. It has been a fantastic journey. Simply fantastic. Great stuff, man. Great stuff.

Almanak Masakan Bumi dan Langit: Kelaparan Tidak Terperi

Cis! Selepas menulis tiga masukan Almanak Masakan Bumi dan Langit, aku dah rasa lapar la pulak.

Tiada makanan di rumah pula.

Perlukah aku keluar ke sana dan makan? Atau memesan makanan? Atau tahan sahaja dan hisap rokok?



Keluar la kejap, kot.

Almanak Masakan Bumi dan Langit: Burger Tepi Jalan, Dingin Hati

Burger tepi jalan paling hebat dalam dunia adalah burger tepi jalan di luar Nana Plaza, Bangkok.

Setiap satu burger harganya RM6. Saiznya besar, dan boleh dimasak medium-well. Memang hebat! Kalah Ramli Burger MS-08.

Masalah burger tepi jalan, ada dua:

1. Daging perlulah besar supaya ada variasi masakan. Kalau nipis, dan digoreng garing, rasa lemak daging akan hilang. Hujungnya mesti garing dan rangup, tapi tengahnya lembut dan basah.

2. Potongan roti.

Kadar potongan roti apa-apa jenis sandwich haruslah 60:40 dengan 60 di bahagian bawah. Ini kerana rahang bawah kita yang bergerak ketika menggigit. Maka, roti mesti tebal sedikit di situ. Lagipun, kadar potongan roti ini telah dikaji oleh saintis makanan.

Satu perkara lagi - penggunaan mayonais dan sos yang terlalu banyak akan merosakkan rasa burger tepi jalan.

Burger tepi jalan lebih sedap kalau diletakkan hirisan bawang besar segar. Timun tak best.

Namun, sampailah masa burger tepi jalan Malaysia sama taraf dengan Burger Tepi Jalan, Dingin Hati di luar Nana Plaza, Bangkok, aku tak pedulikan burger di sini. Ceh.

Almanak Masakan Bumi dan Langit: Peparu Teratai Merah Terlantar di Luar Pagar

Aku penggemar peparu goreng. Atau dalam dialek Pahang, kelempong.

Peparu goreng paling hebat, aku pernah memasaknya.

Mula-mula, rebus peparu dengan daun kunyit dan sedikit garam. Kemudian, potong nipis dan sapukan kunyit dan garam. Goreng dalam minyak panas.

Inilah antara hidangan paling hebat alaf sebelum ini! Peparu Goreng Sepandang Layang!

Namun, dalam masa aku berkelana, aku telah terjumpa satu hidangan peparu goreng yang telah mengatasi kehebatan Peparu Goreng Sepandang Layang.

Namanya adalah Peparu Goreng Tanpa Nama, yang aku gelarkan Peparu Teratai Merah Terlantar di Luar Pagar.

Lokasi? Sebuah gerai makanan tengahari di Pantai Dalam yang sudah dirobohkan.

Hidangan peparu biasanya sedap sebab peparunya rangup. Kedai itu berjaya mempertingkatkan kerangupan peparu goreng tersebut dengan menggunakan tepung goreng pisang!

Ini menjadikan peparu goreng tersebut rangup seperti keropok! Harganya pun murah!

Sayang seribu kali sayang, aku sudah tidak terjumpa peparu goreng rangup itu lagi.

Satu lagi peparu goreng lagenda - Peparu Teratai Merah Terlantar di Luar Pagar.

Almanak Masakan Bumi dan Langit: Nasi Lemak Pulang ke Asal

Nasi lemak paling hebat dalam dunia adalah Nasi Lemak Pulang Ke Asal.

Bukan Nasi Lemak Warung Rindu di Pantai Dalam. Okay-okay je, yang itu.

Bukan juga Nasi Lemak Sambal Power di Leeyas Corner. Sambal dia tak power sangat pun. Biasa je.

Bukan Nasi Lemak Famous di Bangsar. Bukan juga Nasi Lemak Antarabangsa atau Nasi Lemak Tanglin.

Nasi Lemak Pulang ke Asal sebenarnya nasi lemak tanpa nama. Dijual di gerai Pantai Dalam yang sudah disodok jentolak beberapa tahun lepas.

Nasi Lemak Tanpa Nama itu hanya dijual pukul 4 petang. Ianya dikukus, jadi menyerlahkan butiran nasi yang panjang dan hebat.

Lauknya? Pergh! Mula dengan sambal ikan bilis yang hebat. Sambal Ikan Bilis Mahakuasa!

Kemudian, Peparu Goreng Tidak Terperi! Jauh lebih rangup dan sedap daripada Peparu Goreng Antarabangsa!

Daging Rendang Terbuku di Hati! Sambal Udang Petai Syurga! Sambal Kerang Pembunuh Dewa!



Nasi Lemak Pulang ke Asal, atau Nasi Lemak Tanpa Nama sudah mengasingkan diri dari dunia kepahlawanan.

Berkat kuasa jentolak, warung itu tidak wujud lagi.

Sama seperti gerai-gerai hebat seperti Zam Nasi Kandar Harimau Kumbang. Dan gerai makan tengahari Kumpulan Pengemis.

Yang masih ada, Pakatan Tomyam. Ayam Golek Tidak Terbatas. Nasi Ayam Hainam Ketawa Tiga Kali. Dan Mi Goreng Taik Lipas.

Mmm... Dimanakah penjurit-penjurit di zaman silam?

Satori Bread

Well, it took me long enough.


Sometimes, I do wish that the things that bother are simple.

Butttt, having figured out everything, the only thing on my mind right now is - bread!

KL has some really good bread. The Loaf, Dr M's bakery/cafe has some of the best European-style bread. Unfortunately, since it is European-style, it has a bit more yeast than normal.

The bread tastes a bit dry, since Europeans have thicker saliva. And the taste of yeast is prevalent in their bread.

Pappa Rich has great steamed white bread, which is basically baked white bread steamed to make it softer. The texture and consistency is closer to what I believe Malaysians want in their bread.

In Shah Alam, there is a bakery called Raspberry Bread or something that makes really good fruit bread. The texture is like cotton candy, but stronger. Fantastic stuff!

But the true legendary bread is now extinct. It is the Sg Lembing bread, baked by a late Chinese baker. He used an earth oven left behind by some British official.

Earth ovens built from the shores of the Pahang river have feldspar and petalite, which gives off high infra-heat radiation. With proper control and technique, really great bread can be made.

I long for that bread. The white bread is the best in the world. I ate it with sambal tumis or curried beef. Fantastic stuff. Greatest bread ever!

Alas, that old Chinese dude is dead, and his family did not continue the tradition.

If I become a millionaire, I will bake white bread using an earth oven. And eat it.

Friday, July 30, 2010


My dream is to be financially free, and then establish a system or a few systems back in my hometown, that will take people out of poverty and drug abuse.

The system or systems will also include participation from everyone across the country or the world.

I believe that everything I am doing right now, all the skills, all the experience, the drama, the pain and whatever else, is there to get me to realise my dream.

The motivation for this dream is not from my superhero dementia, but from I really want to do.

I see opportunities and how things could work or how things don't work.

I believe that it is possible for regular, normal people like us to transcend petty politics and the divisions of race and religion to come up with something beautiful.

The details are all in my head. The how's are all there. I know what I will do. I know what needs to be done.

Small business setups, co-ops, training centres, food banks, utilising the people and the resources that are already there.

It just needs proper, transparent, uncorruptible management.

If I do get my RM2 million, I will make it my crusade to get the dream to come true.

I believe very deeply that I am put here on earth so that one day, I will be able to fulfill this dream.

And, it will be fun.

The next dream is to infect this system, this idea, to the rest of the country and later the world.

For now, I will bide my time. I shall wait. Patiently.

Kingdom Come

There were voices and thunderings and lightnings and an earthquake.

And there followed hail and fire mingled with blood. There fell a great star from heaven, burning as if it were a lamp and I beheld and heard an angel saying with a loud voice:

"Woe, woe, WOE to the inhabiters of earth."

This is a quote from Revelations which opened the comic book Kingdom Come, by Alex Ross and Mark Waid.

The blend of biblical prose with superheroic imagery made for quite an interesting result.

Ross, the illustrator, wanted to pay tribute to his father's profession, a pastor, while drilling home the end of the world sense.

Armageddon. The reckoning.

It is fantastic. The star that fell to earth, like a lamp? That's Green Lantern, man.

Voices... Thunder? That's Captain Marvel. Shazam!

Seven angels who stood before God? The seven who established the Justice League.

It all fits, somehow.

"God said the meek will one day inherit the earth. But God never accounted for the mighty," wrote Waid.

The mighty are the superheroes. The whole comic book is peppered with biblical quotes. Or biblical-sounding.

"They chose the man who would kill over the man who wouldn't. And now they're dead..."

Magog said that to Superman, in one of the most poignant scenes of Kingdom Come.

Superman facing his fear of the future. Magog sharing his guilt.

I have read this comic book series for more than a hundred times. It holds pride of place on my bookshelf, along with The Sandman comics, Sin City, Fables, V for Vendetta, Watchmen, Metabarons and Lucifer. One of the best ever done by one of the great masters - Ross.

The resonance he creates is deeper than just an apcalyptic battle between superheroes.

Some people prefer Marvel comics for their more realistic portrayals of characters. In DC, we deal with Gods and their dilemmas. I find myself attracted to the moral questions of these absolute characters.

When you are so powerful, what do you do with your abilities? You can end worlds, or change it. And as Orion said, "You'd be surprised how one can lead to the other."

Great planning. Immaculate execution. A bit thin and shallow at times, but it is one of the best. Definitely.

The New Adventures of Amir Hafizi

I have no idea what will happen tomorrow.

This used to drive me crazy. The uncertainties. So I piled on stuff to do. I used to work for almost 20 hours a day. Learning to be still is a challenge.

Dealing with the fear of the future, being worried, is useless. The future will happen no matter what I do.

I have made sure that no one depends on me. I don't have a family to support. Not really. No one to worry about. So anything and everything is just for me.

In that, I am lucky.

I understand that things happen when I am still. When I am just sitting down, doing nothing. If I go headless chicken, and is the primary mover, the primum mobile, I make things happen. And there is a time for both.

I know this. I knew this. But knowing and doing are two different things.

These past few days, I used to find my center again. First two days, it was just me letting loose and seeing the dysfunctions in my life. The stories I tell myself.

Come third day, I had a long, hard look. Many revelations came to me. I was like, 'Oh, okay.'

I didn't even need to go and tell people about it. I was just, 'Okay. So that's what it's about.'

I have always seen any sort of depression or negativity as a chance to observe myself in action.

For example, I didn't even realise how tired I was. I slept for 15 hours the first day, cause for the past few months, I have been sleeping for 3-4 hours tops. Even on my off days.

I've been juggling so many roles and trying arrogantly to save so many people, that I forgot to get real with myself.

I also discovered my guilt because I didn't do enough. Or I used people to fuel my delusions. Which is like rape. Cause rape is about using people to feel powerful.

Man, I can write a book about all my bullshit. Maybe I can use it for movies and TV.

Oh well. This is just me being me. I will always be clear with myself.

I still don't know what will happen tomorrow. And all I can say is, "Surprise me, you filthy bastard!"

Unifying the World

My house have not had Internet connection for about a month.

I finally cancelled my Maxis Broadband account and registered for TM's Unifi HSBB. However, my application has taken too long, and somebody has offered to connect my apartment with another package. I am taking that offer and cancelling my application.

Which is why I am at TMPoint right now, waiting for my turn to cancel my application.

Right now, I can only connect to the Internet via my Blackberry. All the blog posts you have read in the past month is done via this device.

It is a different experience, just like writing longhand and typing are two different experiences. Everything is raw and simplified. I have little time to check for anything - facts, spelling - and with a small screen, I sometimes misspell certain words without realising it.

Oh well.


When doing something creative, I only go to one person for advice.

In all of Malaysia, and perhaps the world, I only consult one person for creativity. I trust his creative judgment, and while I don't agree with him all the time, I trust he will be truthful and give advice from his limitless experience.

When figuring out people, or judging them, I consult a woman. Between us, our predictions are never off the mark. What we say about some people always turn out to be true. I can't really see her when I am depressed. Hahahaha.

And then, there is the professional consultant. I go to her to talk about my career and how to handle things in my work.

She is the most objective person I have ever met and I trust her with my life.

Again, while I do not agree with her on everything, she would give really good perspective on everything.

I take her input always as valuable information and go home to construct simulations inside my head. Her information is always sound, though extrapolating any conclusion based on her data is still my responsibility.

If I ever get rich, I'll do something for these people. They've been a great help.

Movies I Would Like to Do

I have with me stories I would like to do as movies.

I have it all here, in my head.

For some reason, though, while a lot of production houses like my ideas, they are not fully convinced that my movies will make any money.

So they go on and do blatantly 'commercial' movies that may or may not sell anyway.

If somebody reading this has two million dollars, contact me at I will write, co-produce and co-direct my own stories for that money.

My stories are based on my father, myself and other interesting characters. They will be great films. Whether they make money or not, well, despite my knowledge in marketing them, I cannot predict the future.

A lot of people thought Waterworld would be a Jurassic Park, but it quickly turned into a dinosaur. Puteri Gunung Ledang was dismissed as a vanity project by some, but last I heard, it made money from international sales.

Furthermore, the late Yasmin Ahmad's movies, while not the best in the world, showed the way to a new generation of filmmakers.

Give me the trust and the money. And I will make films that would last the test of time, if not money.

Inception: A Review

I had high expectations with this.

Almost everyone who watched it said I will love it. Goes to show that they don't know me very well.

I didn't hate it. But I sure as hell didn't love it.

The production values are fantastic. Of course, if I had 100++ million dollars, I could pay people to do the same shit.

The concept is actually pretty simple. In fact, it is a trick writers normally employ to make their work seem to have depth.

Take the idea of a dream within a dream, and then fractalise it. In this case, a dream within a dream within a dream within a dream. And everything could have just been a dream. Yeah, don't sound too complicated now, does it?

The acting is good. I've always hated DiCaprio for some reason, but he is a great actor, I must admit.

His best performance, though, was in Gilbert Grape. This was just similar to Shutter Island, which was another letdown cause you could figure everything out within the first 15 minutes or sooner.

In Inception, I like the character of the other dude. The thin, professional one. Whatsisname. I believe that if his character, a smooth operator, was given the limelight, Inception could have been a better movie. DiCaprio's psychosis, guilt and difficulties of letting go - while relatable - seemed a little patchy.

It would have been interesting to see how a professional in his prime deals with guilt that slowly unravels throughout the movie and not something that was made the epicenter of it all.

All in all, great performance, good execution, but too simple a concept and simplistic viewpoint to make it a truly great movie.

Nevertheless, one of the best movies this year so far.

Maybe I should start a movie review column.

The Sorcerer's Apprentice

Saw the movie yesterday, sitting next to an animal who tries constantly to prove that it is capable of speech.

In my book, animals who speak in cinemas during movies should be castrated, lest they breed.

Plus, his breath smelled like rotting meat and his comments are stupid.

Anyway, the movie was all right. It served its purpose as a Disney movie.

Nicolas Cage reprised his role - the role he plays in every movie - as a man in pain. Wronged. Burdened. Noble. Misunderstood. He was playing me. Hahaha.

Anyway, the plot was predictable. Boy, who is the 'chosen one', traumatised by an encounter with Cage and his nemesis, ruining his childhood and turned him into a nerd.

Ten years later, Cage and his nemesis resurface to fight for the fate of the world. Boy is the 'prime merlinean' and is the only one who can mae things right.

It's like watching an after-school special, with lightning bolts.

Plot-wise, this movie screams 'studio creative development!' Which means not really original.

End of the day, it works.

This type of movie is one kids will remember when they grow up. Some will get addicted to the format like they do to a Big Mac.

Nothing terribly wrong with it, and nothing spectacular either. It's the perfect movie to waste time with.

Cultivating Patience

One wise guy once wrote, "If you want to do the impossible, then do nothing, because nothing is impossible."

He had no idea how true that is. Of all the things that I have done, doing nothing is the hardest.

This was observed in the Lucifer comic books, when Elaine Belloc, the new God, created a world and found that doing nothing is the hardest part of godhood.

However, this is good for me. I discovered that I do not feel tired as long as I move forward. When I stop, the momentum is gone and I grapple with boredom. My energy is internalised and I become restless and bored.

Facing this situation is yet another part of growing up, I guess. If I can sit still and appreciate the present moment, then perhaps my addiction to drama and problems can be kicked. And perhaps I can find time to rest and recuperate before important things come into play.


I am doomed to repeat my mistakes until I understand patience.

My main trait has always been speed. Speed, speed, speed.

I was trained to do things that take a long time in the shortest period possible. Slow people annoy me. I was proud of that, and pride always come before the fall.

To me, the world has always moved at such a slow pace. Not because I am insanely smart - and I am - but because I couldn't wait for things to happen.

I used to see people who move slowly as weak. Until I met a few really smart ones who take their time.

That's never been my style. Mastering patience is one of the toughest things I am doing right now.

I want to be at the end. I think about my death, because that is the end for me. I live in the future, but not in the present.

Speed, speed, speed. But some things, take time. I hate it, but that's the way it goes.

And now, is time to sleep.

Thursday, July 29, 2010


I am really loved by God.

Come D-Day, crunch time, when it matters most, the help that came pouring in really touched me.

Most of my friends have left the country, but I still got angels and quite a few demons looking out for me.

I appreciate it, really. It is extremely hard for me to ask for help, so when it is freely given, that makes it a lot easier.

After all the stupid shit I've done, people still remember the good in me.

Yeah, I'm going to hell for my sins. Most probably. But right now, I feel like I'm in heaven.

I just wanted to say, thank you. Perhaps it is all we can do, to keep each other warm at night, round the campfire, telling stories. While the heavy breathing of smilodons, saber-toothed tigers can be heard just outside the cave opening.

I dedicate this life to you. It's corny, but it's true.

Day Two: Big Fucking Deal

I didn't do much today. Went out for a bit. Met some people. Did some things.

Like, BIG FUCKING DEAL, right?

And I'd say, yes, exactly.

Round the Twist

And here, the second act, there is a twist in the tale.

Some members of the audience shift uncomfortably. A few clear their throats.

I stand here, grinning.

No, not yet. There is the matter of timing. Everything hinges on that.

And then, with a swish and some flair, I pull the cloth away...

Jack Be Nimble, Jack Be Quick

Where is the candelabra? I am waiting.


I will go to hell for what I've done. If only you knew. If only I could explain what my game was. If only your mind is sharp enough to know what scheme it was that played out.

But a magician never reveals his tricks. And while explanations are forgotten, the mystery remains.

Judgment II

Through the glass, there is a man playing with his food. His salad is finished, so he reads the ketchup bottle.

His eyes dart from his partner, to the side, to the TV screen across from him, to his own hands. Back to the ketchup bottle.

He puts it away and he smiles. Then he raises the glass with the straw to his lips. He checks his watch. Shifts in his seat. Then taps the glass with his drink in it.

Making small talk.

His uneasiness reeks to me, even through the glass window.

When he smiles, his teeth are gritted. He shifts from side to side.

He glances at me warily. Afraid that someone would read his mind?

I have no interest, fool. I am absorbed in my own wonderful mind.

And pretty soon, I will finish my drink. And let you lie in peace.

Judgment II

Through the glass, I see a man eating. He is with a companion, a girl, but he is not listening.

He has more focus on his food. Taking the leafs of the salad, one by one, with his fork, and stuffing his face.

He nods and then his eyes dart around, suspicious of other people noticing. Other people reading his mind.

Dude, no one cares what's on your mind.

Now, if you killed somebody, I would be profiling you.


This woman, sitting across me, is in fear. Eyes wide, pupils constricted. She doesn't want to be here.

She tries to look away, but her gaze always come back to the nothingness across from her.

I thought she was staring at me, but no. It was infinity she has her mind in. A nightmarish Moebius strip.

She speaks on the phone. Her voice unnaturally shrill. There is tension. Her jugular veins start throbbing visibly. I count her heartbeats.

She puts her hand to her head, but removes it soon after she realises it. Her hairdo cannot be touched. She repeats it again. Unconsciously.

Her feet are tapping without rhythm.

A troubled soul.

Join the club, little girl. Have a beer. But not on me. I don't save people anymore. These days, I just watch. And I'm watching you die.


In the movie Inception, which I saw yesterday, the best quote for me was, "The most resilient parasite is an idea."

My parasite is the idea that I am a superhero. It encompasses my ego, arrogance and judgments.

It is neither positive or negative, but it drains me of everything.

Identifying with the form of this idea, I have helped many people. But there is no fulfilment at the end of it because it is essentially make-believe.

I begin projecting this idea on so many different levels that I did not even notice how tired I was.

Oh well. Inception was not bad. And now I'm going to sleep.

Kisah Pertapaan: Kosong

Hari kedua pertapaan.

Aku tidur lama. Aku nak tidur lagi.


Eaten Alive!: Parasites and Host

Some people, prey on others' disabilities. Mental retardation, physical illnesses, ailments that affect mental capacities.

It's like raping an autistic child.

I am no longer a superhero, so I just need to acknowledge the compulsion to be a superhero while not succumbing to it.

Evolve, and let the chips fall where they may.

Kisah Pertapaan: Askar Jerman yang Penyedih

Buat pertama kali dalam masa berbulan-bulan, aku tidur pukul lapan malam.

Aku bangun pukul lima pagi. Semua ajakan member-member nak bergembira, mabuk-mabuk berpoya-poya aku dah terlepas. Amoi Cina tanya pasal aku pun... Aku terlepas.

Aku tak sedar pun, aku penat sampai macam ni.

Semalam, aku tengok wayang. Inception. Ramai orang cakap best nak mampus. Bagi aku, biasa je. Filem yang bagus, tapi bukan best nak mampus.

Tengok dekat Gardens. Pasal aku suka Premiere Class. Lepas tu, aku beli komik Detektif Conan. Punyalah lama nak tunggu edisi terbaru. Dah tiga bulan dah.

Detektif Conan pun agak bosan sekarang. Aku dah baca 68 isu dah. Jadi, aku dah boleh agak kesudahan misteri dan ceritanya.

Tidak dinafikan, aku memang pandai. Dan kacak. Cuma ada beberapa orang je yang aku pernah jumpa, yang jauh lagi pandai daripada aku.

Masalah, kalau dah pandai sangat ni, adalah aku cepat ketagih masalah. Rutin tak menenangkan aku langsung. Menunggu itu, bagi aku, satu seksa macam kena rodok besi panas kat bontot.

Aku masih belum dapat menguasai sepenuhnya Hikmat Sabar Membunuh Dewa.

Bagi aku, dunia bergerak terlalu perlahan. Masa aku lahir pun, aku dah rasa macam dah umur 40. Tanpa kebijaksanaan orang umur 40.

Aku memang jiwa orang tua. Benda-benda orang muda ni aku tak suka sangat. Aku baca komik pun, macam baca kitab suci agama ortodoks.

Aku tak sedar pun, aku penat sampai macam ni. Elok jugak aku tidur sampai 9 jam tadi. Biasa 3 jam sahaja. Dah berbulan aku penuhkan hari-hari cuti aku dengan kerja yang menimbun. Takde kerja, cari kerja. Otak aku perlukan bebanan sentiasa.

Setakat masalah remeh harian di pejabat, aku dah bosan. Semua aku dah tau jalan penyelesaian. Sememangnya dah tak ada cabaran. Aku cuma perlu menunggu, dan itu kadang-kadang membuatkan aku buntu.

Aku bertapa sebenarnya, bukan untuk memerlahankan otak aku yang tak dapat berfungsi dalam dunia yang terlalu perlahan.

Otak aku satu bebanan yang hebat. Tapi otak aku, bukanlah aku. Perasaan dan fikiran aku, bukanlah aku.

Itu aku tahu. Itu aku faham. Cuma aku bercuti untuk memisahkan dan menggabungkan semula semuanya.

Aku akan kembali, harapnya dalam pemahaman yang lebih mendalam.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010


Aku sedang bertapa. Jangan kacau, melainkan untuk bergembira. Semua panggilan telefon, utusan BBM, SMS, MMS yang tidak datang daripada orang yang aku iktiraf tidak akan dilayan sama sekali.

Sebelum membuat panggilan, tengok muka pada cermin. Tanya diri sendiri, "Chantek keee?"

Aku sedang bertapa.

Final Vent

I am okay now, but a few hours ago, it was as if I got a huge mace shoved up my ass.

My head felt heavy, and I just felt empty.

I am a drama queen, and a really dramatic one at that, but this was getting physical.

I felt like I had to run.

So I took the rest of the week off.

I need some rest.

Looking at the kind of stuff I am doing - the magic and miracles I pulled off as well as the shit I put myself through - it is curious that I didn't just drop dead.

Before I puke blood, I need some time off.

I have already sown the seeds of destruction. Now, is just time to wait.

I hate waiting. But it is a process I need to learn in order to do certain things.

I would have done well at the stock market, but I would have dropped dead by 25.

All the stuff I learned and are training myself to do is no fancy whim, or a fad, but ultimately necessary in keeping me going and out of the loony bin.

I am very much self-aware. I know myself better than anyone. I know my roles. I know my ego. My pain, my triumph and my losses.

This was one of the deepest pits in my life. Something I put myself through.

With everything available to me, I know exactly what to do.

The two days off is a good decision. Waiting is necessary, because if everything happened all at once, I will have an aneurysm.

Letting go of certain things is also good.

My cycle of venting and meditating has worked wonders.

My mind is a mess. I can spew torrents of ideas wrapped inside each other, to a few hundred layers.

If my mind is a mess, it shouldn't be in control. Whenever it is in control, things start flying about.

My instincts, though, are extremely stable and reliable. 100% correct.

I know and realise what is real and what is not.

Using my instincts, I can sense the real thing behind anything.

So, without the chatter, at home, I am free and happy. In a more complicated situation with complex social dynamics, I can bring the awareness into it.

In theory, it works. But I have not been able to do this.

The good thing is, the time is not now. Now, I wait.

Will report findings later, either success or failure.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Revolver Ocelot

Doors close and open. Close and open. Like mouths waiting to swallow me whole.

The resonance makes waves like never before.

These are the effects of going 100%. I got four days off.

I will rest. But if I push for 400% synchro-rate, who knows what I'll come up with.

Been holding back, waiting for the revolution that never came.

If I internalise this energy, it will eat me alive. I will find ways to expend it. Exhaust it.

And then, sleep the sleep of the just.

Tapping into it, though, is risky. I will see whether or not I can ride this lightning.

The Adventures of Amir Hafizi

Brooding writer Amir Hafizi cuts a dramatic silhouette.

The wind is in my hair, as I sit on top of a... Plastic awning?


Goddamn cheap material bullshit!

I walk past a massage parlour. Waved 'hi' to some girls I know.

I sit down again at my Cafe of Solitude.

My meeting is at 9.30pm. A couple of friends might join me for a short while before that. But I doubt it.

What do writers do, anyway? Well, we write, right? Beats fighting crime any day.

Brooding Writer

I want to brood, so I'm trying to find a gargoyle, perched high above the city, or maybe a vertigo-inducing window-sill.

And all buildings in Bangsar are only four-storeys high.

Where do writers go to brood here? There are no manhole covers. No big, black men with large stereos on their shoulders.

No hookers. No dog carcass in alley.

I cannot brood properly. Damn!

Post-Superhero Years

Now, what am I going to do?

I hate Heisenberg. His Uncertainty Principle sucks.

Without being a superhero, what can I do?

I can be a very successful serial killer. I can mask any and all traces of forensic evidence and manipulate people to kill each other - the perfect murder.

But what does that pay?

I can be a political assassin. Having inherited my mother's powers of manipulation, I can make or break anyone's career.

But I hate politics.

Okay, I'm the greatest writer who ever fucked your mother. So maybe I should write.

That's settled, then.

Ex-Superhero writer Amir Hafizi sips coffee at his Cafe of Solitude. Mmm. Sounds right.

Maybe I should get a writer name.

Like, 'The Laughing Man' or 'Individual Eleven'.

What about a costume?

Cafe of Solitude

I am at my Cafe of Solitude. The last remnant of the planet Pimpton.

Since I am retiring from my superheroics, I guess it is perhaps best that I take some time off. And just let it sink in.

Man. I love superheroics. It is selfish, egotistical and conceited, with a lot of manipulation of the laws of physics involved. A lot of psycho-kinesis.

All in the name of forwarding my story. The story I tell myself. That in this mundane world, I can still stick up for principles and ideals greater than me.

But you have to know and accept when it is time to fold the cape, and hang it in the closet.

From now on, I guess I'll just be flying business class. Muahahahaha!

The Great Escape

I have left the office! Woohoo!

Joy. Happiness. Bliss.

Twilight of the Superhero: Hanging Up My Cape

What happens, to old superheroes?

Whatever happened to them?

They get old and fat, like Captain Metropolis. They become pathetic like Hollis Mason, the first Nite Owl.

They wait to die, surrounded by nostalgia, like the first Silk Spectre.

Dollar Bill got killed, and he was lucky. Mothman went crazy.

The Comedian - toughest of them all - was killed. His past finally catching up to him.

What use is being a superhero, when you can't save people anyway. When you can't even save yourself.

I'm done. I'm through. I've had enough.

I'll Ozymandias you.

I'll quit and then I'll trick the world.

Ohm Meter

I always have insomnia when I have lots to do. My mind keeps throwing scenarios at me.

What worked, these past few weeks, is meditation.

Yeah, I do meditation, bitch. A mind like mine, it needs to slow down just to go into sleep.

It's very simple, really. Accept your mind's hyperactivity. Accept your thoughts. Accept your emotions.

Then, move your focus from the mind, to your being. Just be with yourself.

Observe, without thinking, just using the presence, of the thinking you and the feeling you.

Those are all you, a part of you, but smaller than who you are. Your essence.

The real you is the space that is not the mind or the emotions.

Which means you are the universe. And then, sleep...

The Amazing Amir Hafizi

Bitten by a radioactive journalist, Amir Hafizi gains the journalist's proportionate strength. Upholder of truth, or masked menace?

I constantly amaze myself. I might as well call myself Amazo. Or Mysterio. Or bulbuous dick. Or something like that.

Things keep on happening to me. Wonderful things. All I need to do is hold my arms forward - figuratively speaking, of course - and stuff just fall into my arms.

I need this? Something comes along. Bam! I want that? Bam! I get it.

Whatever Amir wants, Amir gets.

I feel like a spoiled child, sometimes. Of course, everything comes at a price.

You have to pay money for a car. Buy your wife (don't argue with me. You know it to be true). Fund your kids. Blahblahblah.

But I always get the means and the opportunities just like that.

Falls down from the sky. Bam!

If I do have a superpower - and it's not a superpower that mimics other people's superpowers, just that I haven't met anyone with a superpower yet - I guess it would be that I am a fucking genie.

A genie who fucks. Man, I am so lucky.

Thanks, God/Science/Eywa/Atheismo.


I just came back from a chat with a friend.

I waited for her, and as she said she would be late, I waited a bit more, enjoying my solitude.

And then, as I was having coffee, I received a call from a dear old friend. Telling me to call another friend.

It was the call to arms. And I am armed and ready. I am the most electrifying man in sports entertainment!

So with that done, my friend came and we had a long chat about various stuff.

The clouds had shied away, and the stars were clear, by the time we were done.

I explained to her about the limitations of words - spoken or written. Being a writer almost all my life, I have always been aware of the severe limitations that writing has in conveying a state of being, thoughts and emotions.

If it is hard to grasp the essence of a person after being with them for over 40 years, as my parents have, what hope do words have?

It is merely stabbing in the dark, and I have been stabbing for quite some time.

She asked about my role-playing and I told her about The Prestige, which she saw but didn't like or remember.

Which is strange, because it is a damn good movie. It's about performing, and if anything, I am a performer. People act on stage. I carry out my plays in real life.

The characters and roles I play. Which are designed to keep any of you to learn my real name.

I, Who is nameless presence beyond thought. Without identification with form. The observer. He who is, without thinking or feeling.

He who walks among us, but is not one of us.

The me who I am. The most electrifying man in sports entertainment.

I shared my skills in managing stress, pain and heartbreak.

She didn't really understand or agree with that one, cause she has her own system. Aware of my actions, being conscious, I didn't try to fix her. Because people trying to fix other people is the cause of grief and pain and wars.

Internally, as we spoke, I managed to uncover the whys of certain things. It doesn't really matter to my being, the causes and sources for different things.

When I am, I just am. There is no worry. No pain. No static from my brain. There is no need for cause and effect.

That is peace, happiness and true joy.

That being said, knowing the whys also opened up certain things.

I came away from that meeting with more presence than I had before. And for that, I am happy.

No one has the capacity to understand me. Because they are not me. Same thing with me and other people.

It was Neil Gaiman who wrote, more or less, "What we see or experience of people merely the fragments of it. The light glinting off the facet of a jewel. That's all we ever see. Facets."

I suffered no allusions that someone could understand me or my giganormous ego or my nameless being.

Gave that, and the resentment that comes with it, a long time ago.

But it was refreshing to have people who don't want anything from me - not my approval, my surrender, not my money, not even my bulbuous dick - sitting across from you, and just experience whatever they can with our limited senses and modes of communication.

She said, "Don't write 'I'm so fucking cool.'"

Cause I know and she knows that the only cool thing in the world is not giving a damn about being cool.

Well, I guess I'll just say, I'm the greatest man in sports entertainment!

Man, I am so fucking cool.

The Prestige

A magic act consists of three parts.

The Pledge, where you show something of the ordinary. Like a bird in a cage.

The Twist, where something extraordinary happens that causes some effect to the subject in the first part. Like the bird disappearing.

And The Prestige, where everything is made right again. Such as the bird reappearing in the cage or in the magician's palm.

I took that from the movie. The Prestige.

Pretty damn cool, right?

So anyway, I am the Way of the Magic. In a sense, my life is a magic act. I am a magic act.

The whole setup is a magic act.

Now, all you have to do, is figure out which is The Pledge, The Twist and The Prestige.

If you care to, of course. It's all the same to me.

Now, for my biggest trick...

Monday, July 26, 2010

The Wheel of Fortune

I left the office and am now in Bangsar. I feel lethargic at 7pm onwards, until 10pm, when I would be invoking my insomnia, all the way till 7am.

All my nights are filled. There are loads of people to meet. Deals to make. One thing closes, and many more appear.

I didn't ask for most of it. They just kinda dropped on my lap. I don't seek people. They come to me. That is a fact, not me gloating.

I am in a state of gratitude.

If you ask me how I do it, well, just open yourself up to possibilities. Opportunities will come.

When destiny knocks on the door, be prepared to open it.

Life is a slow process. One step at a time. No expectations.

Then, one day you wake up and say, "Damn! I did all that? And may I say, not in a shy way, oh no not me, I did it myyyyy waaaaayyyy."

I know the terrain. More importantly, I know myself. Lots of people I see, only go for all that glitters. Even when it's not real.

They're pretending. Play-acting. But that is how some people live. And I am not here to judge them as good or bad. This is only what I see.

Me? I'm just me, baby. No more, no less. I possess one of the greatest minds of my generation. I have been blessed with enormous talent and good looks. I smell good.

All it takes is an application of my magnificent tools and there is absolutely nothing I can't do.

The world, to me, is like a fridge from which I take my food.

There would be only one of me in a billion years. Use me wisely, or suffer the consequences.

Man, I am so fucking cool.

Defying Gravity

Oh my Science. O God. Great Atheismo.

I am flying.


Buddha Summersault

I started my Sunday cranky, angry, exhausted and somewhat spiteful.

I ended it on a high. No drugs, no alcohol.

Maybe I am manic-depressive.

The lowest point was when I got home, after a fruitful meeting.

Not wanting to acknowledge my happiness, my mind started grasping at straws and found something I could be pissed off about. I focused on that, and got into depression. The pain was unbearable.

Within 15 minutes, though, I just got happy.

What happened during those 15 minutes was simply me observing myself being miserable. And knowing what that is. Just my mind, which houses the ego, refusing to accept my situation and the present moment.

Funny thing is, the situation is positive. Why should I feel bad at all? Because the ego craves drama and pain. Essentially, our egos are all the same.

Once I acknowledge what I was doing to myself, there is space around it. That space grew and eventually filled my heart and drove the chatter away from my mind.

That, is bliss. Awareness. Presence.

It is not useful for anything other than achieving happiness. If you knew or understood the Pythagoras theorem, that doesn't make you more handsome or get you to cut pizzas better.

Spiritual awareness is also useful for dealing with situations, sometimes. I find it useful, at least.

So that, and attaining joy.

Other than that, it is completely useless.

Buddha summersault!

Seven Positions of the Boddhisativa: Porn Breakthrough

I always thought that there are a maximum of five men a woman can please at any one time.

Vagina, anus, mouth, left hand, right hand, right?

I just saw something that blew my mind.

The correct maximum number, is actually nine. NINE!

Vagina, anus, mouth, left hand, right hand, left foot, right foot, left boob, right boob.

So it is possible for one woman to take on nine men. Nine dicks.

I never thought of that before. My mind has just been expanded. Which does nothing for my constant thing with my ego, but hey, it's good to know.


My heart is full, my mind is clear. I am still me, while my ego is still here.

Nah, no need for anything to rhyme. I haven't got the intent, nor the time.

I am currently experiencing happiness, or bliss. In my current state, it is quite hard to miss.

There is no pain, and no struggle. My conscience is not befuddled.

Clarity like a mirror pool. Apparently, I am no one's fool.

How did this thing turn into a poem? I was just going to write about the toilet in my home.

Ah well, I guess when I am happy, the creative juices flow quite freely.

Eywa Has Heard Me

Someone from my past just messaged me, impressed with my work.

I felt like that time when Neytiri yelled, "Eywa has heard you!!!" in Avatar.

That scene always got me choked up. Okay, I fucking cried.

Cause most of my work is invisible. I am not the writer whose name graces the pages of the paper. I edit them. And even when I do, there is no standing ovation for a well-written piece.

My movies - I hardly get any credit for my toil and struggle. The directors' contribution is more important than my work. But my efforts, like everyone else's, is not insignificant.

I get no applause and very little appreciation.

Over the years, I have learned to appreciate myself. But sometimes, when some people are moved or touched by my work enough that they reach out and share it with me, I do get chuffed.

That my contributions were acknowledged. That I was doing something right. That my efforts had an impact.

That Eywa, God, Science, Atheismo, has heard me.

That would have been divine applause. God's appreciation of my work.

To think of it, God's applause is in the fact that good stuff - great stuff - happens to me.

I am constantly thankful that I have always been blessed with great luck.

Doors and legs and minds and hearts open for me easily. I don't know why, but I am not questioning it.

I am blessed, and for that, I am thankful.

Omnia Mutantur, Nihil Inherit: BLAM!

Now that I have addressed the emotional aspect of my endeavours, it is time to parrrrtayyyy!

I am always very clear with my emotions, and my thoughts, pay attention and recognise them for what they are.

If you don't acknowledge your emotions, it only becomes a cancerous thing. And you will never know what the hell is happening.

Acceptance is key. Unhappiness is only resistance to what you are experiencing at the current moment. Your resistance to the present.

Now that that is out of the way, I can focus on so many wonderful things. Things that are real, and in front of me right now. Not things in the distant future or in the past.

Relevant shit.

Man, I am so glad that I am smart and self-aware.

Anyway, paarrrrtayyyy!

Omnia Mutantur, Nihil Inherit

Part of growing up, I guess, is making decisions.

I am a machine. I work like one. So any emotional aspect of anything is delayed.

I was caught up in the execution of things that I didn't even notice the emotional ramifications until I made some headway into things.

Suddenly, it hit me like a sledgehammer. Right in the chest. Bam!

I was floored.

I thought it would be easier, since I am older.

But I'm taking a dump now, so everything's better.

Everything changes, nothing is truly lost.

The Finding

The destination is often a surprise for the destined, wrote Neil Gaiman. In his comic books, The Sandman series.

They say that the fun is in the finding. I know this as both the truth and untruth.

But I accept it as my kind are wont to do. Me. Of the barbarians.

I wanted to write comics. But I have written everything but comics. There has never been a thing, a written thing, that I have not tried my hand.

I have written everything that could be written. And if the Gods of Writing were to smile on me a bit more, I may continue to write for some years ahead.

Ah, but fortunes told tell of no real fortune. Just fragments of dreams and shapes in the dark.

I do not concern myself, nowadays, with petty clairvoyances, though.

At best, cheap parlour tricks and at worst, mental dementia.

I do live it one day at a time.

After all, the destination is always a surprise. To the destined.

V for Vagina: Humens Must Fight for Freedome

V for Vagina, rebel terrorist, was in Bangsar sipping coffee.

Too much coffee, and now can't sleep.

Well, it is only midnight, so far from bedtime.

V for Vagina had an okay meeting. If this works out, V for Vagina will fight for freedome on several different fronts.

V for Vagina is really cool. And soft to the touch. V for Vagina is reading a book. V for Vagina will go to sleep soon.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

V for Vagina

I stuck two tampons up my nose, and now I am the terrorist anti-hero anarchist V. V for Vagina.

V for Vagina waits at Bangsar's Pappa Rich, for his next meeting. A casual one, but might hold some promise.

V for Vagina will go on radio silence as he orders a drink. V for Vagina will return after these menses.

The Seed of Destruction

I am the smartest man alive. And yet, people don't listen to me. So they all die, get depressed, or lose everything.

Oh well. If everyone is as smart and sexy as I am, then... then... then... we would have immortality, world peace and free sex for everyone.

Two whores in every bedroom and a dick in every cunt.

Well, not my problem. Fuck off and die.


Isolated from the source of all power - Thailand, the fate of myself and a whole bunch of other people hanging in the balance, having to deal with many types of people, my mind trying to deceive me at every step of the way.

Bottom of the ninth. Bases loaded. Two strikes. Amir Hafizi at the bat.

Oh well. Relax, said Black Bolt of the Inhumans.

You're All Fucked Now

You. Are. All. Fucked. NOW!


Limit Break: Highwind

Had four meetings today. In total, seven in two days.

Too much coffee. Having a migraine. But I'm not done yet.

You want to see me at 100%? I won't stop until I puke blood. Literally.

More stuff to be done tomorrow, Monday, Tuesday and the rest of the week. I'll keep piling them on till the stench of it all rises to the heavens and chokes whoever or whatever is up there.

Just cause I'm spiritual and shit nowadays, that just means I don't have any regrets. I no longer feel guilt.

My conscience is clear. As well as my mind, heart, whatever else. I also just took a dump, so my bowels are also empty.

Coming down from this rush, I can be calm and patient.

Workhorse mode on.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Pablo Aimar

I create something out of nothing. I am either a deity or Pablo Aimar.

More meetings, more prospects, more, more, more.

I am on a fucking roll, bitches. And hot stuff, too.

And really, really, really ridiculously good-looking.

I should be an underwear model/astrophysicist.

The Problematic Child

After all the things I'm setting up over my weekend, I will have enough puzzles and problems of my own to deal with until next year.

This will take my focus away from other people's problems, which have been an addiction of late.

So, if you have a problem, I have a standing statement that I don't care. Really. I don't give a shit.

So now, I am bearing my giganormous intellect only on solving my own stuff and hopefully, by the end of the first quarter of next year, I'll be a millionaire. Which would definitely solve a lot of problems. If it happens.

Man, I am so fucking smart.

Idiotic Euthanasia

If you're wondering what my projects are about, I am meeting representatives from the Government.

To suggest a programme where we kill idiots. I will provide the defence ministry with a list, and they go in and kill them.

To make it simpler, I might designate whole areas as stupid zones. Use a Massive Ordinance Air-dropped Bomb. Or a bunker buster.

Also, a better way could be to develop a virus that could infect and kill everyone under the age of 18. Or 28. Or 68.

It's actually very easy. Loads of funds are spent on biological weapons to develop it as a controllable arsenal.

If you didn't care who or what it kills, a genocidal virus on the scale of the Black Plague can be developed in a hot, humid shack behind some loser's house.

The Government really should fund my euthanasia project.

The idiots all want to die. They're just too stupid to know it. And I'm just a guy trying to help out.

Phases of the Mood

Some people asked me why I was moody the past few weeks.

Actually, I was not moody. I was and am tired.

I have a day job, I run my company, I was offered to direct a movie, I was engaged as a creative consultant, a book I will never finish write, four books a week to read, handling the ugly and stupid problems of other people (not anymorrreeee) as well as figuring out the meaning of life without using my mind.

Oh, and fuck buddies, too.

If I were to try and think about all this, I would suffer a stroke.

So I just get the feel of it, and I just do it.

Nothing helps, though, when I am tired at the end of the day and I start seeing groups of apes trying to have conversations like humans.

I have prepared and planned schedules, but humans are ultimately unreliable and they start forgetting things. I do that too, to be fair. About twice a year. How can these people survive for the past few billion years?

Furthermore, there is witholding information. I act based on information received. If I don't have complete information, because it was hidden from me by gangly little gibbons, then my actions would have less impact.

NEVER. EVER. Withhold information from me. Facts more valuable than opinions, please.

And I am meeting more people nowadays, so I meet more unconscious people. Unconscious people annoy me.

Maybe I should be what they've always said I should be - a maniac. A psycho-killer.

Oh well. At least I have my good looks.

Mother! Father! Family!

Sometimes, I wish I was adopted. Or that I could build a time machine, travel back in time and either prevent my parents from meeting or kill my grandfather.

Of what use is family? I could relate to only 20% of them.

I got some connected relatives, but their connections are all useless to me.

Najib is my uncle. Twice-removed, yes, but uncle nonetheless. I was supposed to be the next KJ.

But apparently, I don't need to be extremely corrupt and sell my own country like Boris Yeltsin did to Russia.

And I'm still hot stuff.

And I am that damn good.

Regardless of the fact that my five friends who are going through horrid divorces did not take my well-constructed advice and are now in deep pain, deep shit and deep depression.

C'mon, man (and woman). I know strategy. I study human information flow. I wield information like a sword. I was trained by my inadequate but well-meaning parents, subjecting me with several psychosis, to win.

I know how to win. Listen to me. I love solving other people's problems. So I don't have to face my own problems.

Oh well. No one ever listens to me. Six years later, or sometimes six months, they always crawl back to me and tell me I was right.

Dudes (and dudette), you don't have to tell me I'm right. I KNOW I'm right.

With a mind this brilliant focused on anthropological information flow and psycho-analysis, I'm right about everything.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Elysian Peace

Ah, a brief respite from typing on my Blackberry. I am at a friend's house, the site of my next meeting, using his computer and typing on this HP keyboard. I love HP keyboards.

I'm a chronic planner, so this stage of projects always excite me. It would seem as if whole worlds of possibilities are open. Anything can happen. I can experience so many different things.

So yes, I love the planning stage. This, and getting paid, of course.

I have launched over 20 different feelers for projects. Six long meetings over two days.

I amaze myself. By the end of this exercise, I plan to retire. But my plans never come true. They always turn out better.


The number of appointments I have today has fluctuated. From three to one, to three, back to one with a guided tour.

My, my. How the world turns.

Live from the Primum Mobile

I am sitting on the toilet, taking a dump.

This porcelain throne is my Primum Mobile - the Prime Mover. The seat of Yahweh.

Actually, the seat is broken, so I took it off. And yet, Elaine Belloc has sat on this broken throne, just like in the Lucifer comics.

She dared not claim godhood, or maidenhood for that matter.

Man, I am on a fucking roll!

Maybe I should do apotheosis again.

Days of Thunder

Today was weird.

Somebody from my past hit on me. I found out some disturbing developments.

I told someone I am smart, and they didn't believe me. Amazing.

I put in 50% and everything turned out okay.

Had a few drinks, met a financier, met two old friends.

Watched 300 nude scenes with celebrities from mainstream movies.

I went home earlier and was just dazed. So many things happened. Eventful. Epic.

Full of ups and downs. If this day was a movie, it was fucking gripping.

Oh well. Tomorrow. Tomorrow's tomorrow.

Executioner's Song



Appy Polly Logies, my droogs. Your humble narrator is about to tolchok some devroshkas. In the ass. A bit of the old in-out-in-out.

A bit of the old ultra-violence.

The crux is upon us. The roots of Yggdrassil have been showered with kin's blood.

I, Fenris the Wolf, Lord of Entropy, has devoured the moon.

Noah builds his ark. The Ark of the Covenant.

And mountains flew like wool.

And a star fell unto earth, like a lamp. And seven thunders uttered their voices in unison.

The cow shifts, a tick on his back worrying him. The egg on its horn trembles, as the fish beneath the cow goes blind.

A wind comes and all the good people are gone.

The sky turns blood red as the sun rises from the West.

Oh well.

Thursday, July 22, 2010


I have ridiculous amounts of luck. Thank you, God, Science, Atheismo, whatever.

Countdown to Destruction


Captain Planet!

No Internet at my place, so I can only write using my Blackberry.

Recently, I had the chance to save the world, so I did. It made me feel like a superhero.

Which is okay. It does nothing for my identification with form. But I scored!

Ahhhhh, man. Saving the world is pretty hard work.

I wonder what I will do tomorrow. Or the next few days. More worlds to save, I guess.


Nothing Again

Again, there is nothing. My life is so fulfilling right now.

But, oh, that's not what you want to hear.

So, okay.

I'm miserable! Boo fucking hoo! Oooh! Agonyagonyagonyagony!

I am so in PAIN! Woe is me!



No. I feel nothing. Nothing but bliss.

I am happy.

Should I shut up now?

Okay. There is nothing.


Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Ride the Lightning

I am consciously using my mind as a tool, instead of allowing it to take over.

Man, I am so fucking smart.

I mean, I knew I was smart, but I never knew I was THIS smart.

My mind, my ego, is an omega-level genius. Why didn't I figure everything out sooner? Oh well. That's all in the past. I am planning, but I can't ultimately control the future.

I only have the present, and currently, I am sitting, naked, in my living room. So I put everything into that.

When it is time to plan, then I will plan. When it is time to think, I will think.

Right now, I just feel good cause my balls are on the tiles.

I am so fucking cool. And so are my balls.

Bronco Buster

Gathering information.

Mighty Male

One of my friends asked me, "What's up with all these men saying 'I'm a MAN!'?"

Me: Huh?

She: They do!

Me: I don't.

She: Yeah, right.

Me: Well, when I say it, I'm quoting a line from that Will Ferrel movie, Anchorman.

She: What?

Me: In it, Ferrel is an anchorman, so he says, "I'm a MAN! An anchorman!" It is basically a parody of masculinity in the '70s.

She: ...

Me: Please, continue.

She: To me, when a man says, "I'm a MAN!", he is only saying "I have a DICK!"

Me: Hahahaha!

Well, imagine that. A bunch of men, going around, saying, "I have a DICK!"

And I'd go and say, "I have a DICK! An anchorDICK!"


That is funny.

Dysfunctional Me

Recently, I finally understood the nature of my dysfunctional relationships with people.

In short, I try to fix people.

I'm a superhero, right? So I save people. I'm a genius, right? So my mind is addicted to solving problems and puzzles.

I have stopped causing problems for myself, so my mind finds its fix of drama and problems from other people. Outsourcing negativity.

I began, years ago, to solve other people's problems.

Malaysia sucks. Okay, I'll get you a job with the UN.

They don't have money, so I hook people up with jobs and projects.

I was playing my role. A superhero. I was identifying with the form.

Going through a divorce? Call ME! I know how to win.

It is sick.

Doing this actually serves my ego by:

1. I can pretend that I am a superhero.

2. I can be right and everyone else is wrong.

3. I can be superior than other people.

It wasn't until I stopped identifying with my roles and being aware of my addiction was I able to connect and be of service effectively to the people I care about.

Seeing people past their problems, as people and not as puzzles, was a great revelation.

I no longer need companionship to serve the ends of giving my mind more material. I am aware when my mind throws me these noble, comic book stories where I am the superhero of the story. No more delusions. No judgments. When I am conscious.

My job now is simply to enjoy the present. I still help people, but I believe my relationship with that is no longer addictive or obsessive.

I don't know whether this is useful to anyone or not, but I hope it can serve a purpose for a few.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Five Things Not to Do When You Have Spiritually Awakened

1. When introducing yourself, do not say, "I am the nameless presence that is beyond thought. Indescribable by the deceitful mind. I am the awareness that cannot be felt. I am the truth, the light and the way. I am. And who are you?"


2. Never tell people you are happy.

If you're happy, just shut up and enjoy it.

People generally look for misery, so their egoes can feel superior.

Do not say, "I managed to isolate my egoic mind from my being, stopped identifying with form and generally have discovered the secret to true happiness. I am happy."


Just say, "I am fine."

Or lie.

"I am deeply upset that my cat died while humping a flying squirrel. In mid-air. He was 42."

3. Feel spiritually superior than other people.

Whenever we stopped identifying with one form, another tries to take its place.

If before, the point of competition is who is the richer man, as soon as you realise that material possessions and desire are poisonous if handled improperly, you might want to take the fight to who is MORE spiritual.

In essence, there is no more or less. Better or worse. Good or bad. There is only is.

4. Talk about religion.

Spirituality is not religion, but religion is spirituality.

The only difference is, orthodox religion usually identifies with form. Chants, prayers, beads, robes, wooden figures, etc. They also promote the spiritual aspects of the life philosophy, but it is not quite catchy as having idols and stories of hell and damnation.

Spirituality is essentially boring. Religion is not. Filled with good and bad characters, twisted plots and a happy ending. Happy Ending! Happy Ending! Happy Ending!

So fuck religion and spirituality.

5. I got nothing.

Cause there is nothing.

Should be sleeping now, but spiritual awakenings woke me up.


There is nothing.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Lord of Entropy

Ancient Spirits of Eeeeeviiillll!

Transform this decaying form, to The Malay Male - The Evaaarrr Liiiiviiiing!!!


I am the Lord of Entropy. I AM Destruction. Remember that.

1,000,000 HP

I haven't gone 100% in a while, fearing I could kill people if I do.

These next few months, and perhaps the next few years, maybe this is one shot, one opportunity to tap into my youthful energy one last time.

It's do or die, baby. I'm gambling everything on myself, as I always do anyway.

Relying on my wits and my will. Just like Lucifer Morningstar. I will weave suns. Create worlds.

And dance the Yahweh dance.

Glee: New Directions

What if I use my fearsome intellect, not to sabotage myself with falsehoods, but to grab whatever I need and want?

What if I have an opportunity, one shot, to save the world? To save so many people.

What if I could fulfill the demands of my hyperactive mind as well as my superhero complex?

Nothing works, but everything might.

I am Destruction.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Sajak Lucah Takde Perasaan

Kalau boleh ku kait awan di syurga,
Akan kusumbat di lubang juburmu;
Kalau boleh ku kait lubang juburmu,
Akan kuhantar kau ke awan syurga.

Jubur, oh jubur, kenapa kau tak berbulu?
Dapatkah kau menduga, preference seksualku?

Tali merah, mulut pun merah
Berpusing-pusing di atas konek
Inilah teknik dalam sejarah
Naga menelan, berpusing kongkek

Buai laju-laju, sampai cucur atap
Apa dalam baju?
Apahal baju?
Kalau dah stim, semuanya pun lesap.

Scenes of the Father: The Way of the Magic

I have always had this argument with my father. For years, it has always been this:

Father: There is only one way to live life, and that's that!

Me: No, there is only one way to live life, and that is to recognise that there are many ways to live life. And that's that!

As you can see, righteousness and stubbornness runs in the family.

We love being right, and proving other people wrong. It has been the cornerstone of my existence. It was the source of a lot of my successes as well as failures.

I am smart enough to be right, or to manipulate events and circumstances to be right. Oh yes, my friends, I can be quite the devious git.

Being right, though, has never made me happy. To be fair, it has never made me sad either.

It just exhausts me sometimes. I am tired of being right all the time. And that is no excuse for being wrong. Nope.

It's just that I believe that the key to finding true peace and happiness also lies in letting go of the illusion of being either right or wrong.

In the end, does it really matter? If I'm a doctor or a minister or a soldier, then yes, maybe my decisions - the right or wrongness of it - can determine whether some people live or die.

But I'm just a writer. What do I know? How effectual can I be?

And stripped away from my identification with my job, my function, do I really need to be right at all times of the day?

Essentially, the concept of right and wrong are egoic in nature. As well as superiority or inferiority. They are the fuel for feeling good or bad about yourself, which is also an illusion from the devious mind.

True happiness, I find, comes from only acceptance and letting go of many things, including this notion of right and wrong.

But don't take my word for it. I could be WRONG.

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Book of Revelations

The Book of Revelations basically outlines Armageddon. The end to existence.

And yet, perhaps the end of the world is not physical, but spiritual.

We'll talk in a bit. I have some singing to do.


A few months ago, something happened which changed my environment.

It was a traumatic experience for me, and my ingenious mind decided to go on overdrive and distract me from being awake and fully aware.

I went into a deep egoic state. Became the 'needy little me'.

Out of all this, came an amazing opportunity to observe myself. Suddenly, I became aware of my thinking self. The self that identifies only with thought - the ego.

I also became aware of the emotional component of that, which is deep emotion in search of more deep emotion - most of them unnecessary and ultimately a lie. Eckhart Tolle calls this the pain-body.

The self that is observing is the real me. The biggest part of me. For the ego and the pain-body are both also me. It's just that I can't allow them to control me. Fighting them only makes them bigger, more real.

The only thing I do is accept the ego and the pain-body, and be aware of their existences.

This is a deep realisation that is different from what I had a year ago, or two years ago, when I first started this spiritual journey, coming off from my pilgrimage to Thailand.

I am still not fully aware or awake most of the time. But I am beginning to access the stillness and the peace more readily now.

I hope to see it in my work which I will one day leave to all of you.

Friday, July 16, 2010

The Borneo Chronicles: Last Call

It has been a wonderful trip for me. Filled with ups and downs, adventure, horror, romance, blablabla.

There were times when I thought I was teetering on disaster, and times when I felt a sense of triumph in a state where I could almost touch that sense of being a superhero.

I felt both isolated and beloved at different and at the same times.

I also experienced peace, and made some decisions.

Met people. Made friends. Perhaps an enemy or two.

Business as usual, I guess.

Springtime for Hitler

I sit and I sip the tea. A cigarette on one hand.

Did I do it right? Was it as good for you as it was for me?

I can't change the past. And I don't control the future. What I have is only the present.

A cigarette in one hand. And I sip my tea.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

The Borneo Chronicles: Settled

It's only been two days, but I am getting used to the KK accent.

Earlier today, I presented my paper about using the media to save the environment. Spoke to a lot of people, both publicly and in private.

I only got two hours of sleep last night, and it has been a while since I stood on the rostrum, addressing an audience of journalists, Government people and corporate reps.

I was nervous. Nerves got to me, and it was a struggle to stay focused.

Insecure about my performance, I was buoyed by messages from the peninsula saying that they heard I did good.

I don't really care what people think, but I need to find out whether or not my presentation was useful to anyone.

I saw some people taking notes, so that's a good sign, maybe.

One woman asked for my number and contact details. She wants my input on something.

All in all, a pretty educational day. And I crashed out afterwards and is now only up to enjoy something room service brought up.


The Borneo Chronicles: Kuntless in KK

I went out just now to get some smokes. I was approached by a junkie in the alley, offering blowjobs for crack.

Man, this city is gritty! I like it already.

I didn't take the offer, though. Crackheads are dumb-ass motherfuckers. I should know. I grew up with some of those idiots.

Why am I working in KL? Cause most job opportunities in Kuantan for Malays like me would be crackheads or glue-sniffers.

See, when money is tight, and they can't give blowjobs for crack, these people burn tires and then suck the smoke through a straw.

If they can't find no tires, or no straw, they find wet, fresh chicken-shit. They get a coconut shell and punch holes in them, and then suck the fumes from the chicken-shit.

Why? To get high.

Yeah. Chicken-shit, man.

I saw that, so I left home at 12. I didn't want to be sniffing chicken-shit when I'm 40 and broke as hell.

I see kids nowadays with no self-control, and they get drugged up pretty bad and think they're fucking cool.

Man, I know people who can control it, and those who can't. You're just born with it, see?

Me? I can't. It's not something I can control. So I never did take anything strong enough to fry a billion nerves in my brain. It's my choice, as well as yours.

I say this, and some people say I'm a stick in the mud. Fuddy-duddy square.

Yeah, whatever, man.

Coolest people I know? They're fucking billionaires. Got apartments in London and chateaus in France. Real ass Malaysians like me. But the money doesn't make them. They make the money.

Other cool people, they know their limits, and play to those limitations.

Now, I go back home, and I see the same old crackheads offering blowjobs for money.

It was a real easy choice to make.

The Borneo Chronicles: Journalist Paranoid

I arrived at KK around 10.30pm.

On the way here, I got some good news. Out of all the funk that was there for a few months, rays of light are shining through.

I am quite satisfied as to how I handled everything. I am aware that I am young, and a little rough around the edges. But if I put my mind and my heart to it, there is really nothing I can't accomplish.

I have done so much already, and at this stage in my life, I have nothing left to prove. I know what I am, and I know who I am. I am. And I am happy.

It has been an amazing journey. And right now, sitting in an old-school Internet cafe in Kota Kinabalu, I feel liberated, satisfied and free.

Freedom. There is nothing in this world more important than freedom. All my life, I ran away, fought, created and destroyed for freedom. All in the name of freedom. And independence.

Nothing in this universe can hold me down. Because I am the universe.

The Borneo Chronicles: Seagal

I have a 7am wake-up call tomorrow, and I haven't been able to sleep yet. Maybe I'll try some meditation in a bit, but now, I'm watching Steven Seagal playing bodyguard in a made-for-TV movie.

Everybody wants to be cool like me. But they're not cool at all. The key is the phrase 'wants to be'. They're all wannabes.

I'm the real deal. I don't need alcohol or drugs to be cool. I'm just me, baby. I'm just me.

Cause the only cool thing in the world is not giving a shit about cool. And I don't give a shit.

People make the common mistake that it's what other people see them as. They're cool only cause other people say they're cool. Hahaha. That's fucking pathetic.

They rely on things and shit in order for people to call them cool.

Dude, that's not cool. That's being a retard. So fuck you. All a you.

Suck my dick.

Y'all know me, still same OG. Getting hated on by these niggers with no cheese.

Nowadays, everybody wanna talk, like they got something to say. But nothing comes out when they move their lips - just a bunch of gibberish. And motherfuck is that? Cause they forgot about Dre.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Borneo Chronicles

I am on my way to Kota Kinabalu to present a paper on how to use the media to save the world.

I was delayed for the 5.30pm flight, so I had to get on the 8pm one instead.

So I went for a smoke and sat beside a hot blonde Russian dude, Ivan. He's a biologist who does chemical weapons for Russia.

Nah, he does some transgenic research. And he's also a surfer.

He just took a two-month holiday to surf in Bali cause he lives in Siberia and there is nowhere to surf in Siberia.

He's pretty cool, and I invited him to come to Malaysia next time.

He said that he really is impressed that Malaysia is a concrete jungle - at least, from what he can tell. And it all happened in the past few decades.

"Moscow is 800 years old!" He said.

Well, Ivan, nevermind.

We always fail to appreciate what we have. Maybe if we lose it, we will. Or maybe not. Not even then.

I talked about what I know about Russia.

"Bigger is always better," I said. It was a Russian Cold War philosophy.

I talked about Automatik Kalashnikov and Mikoyan-Guyrevich.

And, repeating what I heard from a drunken conversation, of how Boris Yeltsin sold the country and Putin got everything back together.

Russia is set to rise again. And their girls are fucking hot! Hell, if Ivan was a girl, I'd fuck him, too.

I love meeting strangers while travelling. I feel like we can talk about anything. And some are very interesting.

Well, Ivan has left to charge his laptop. And I am enjoying solitude as I smoke and think how big the world is, and how small we really are. I feel like a fucking citizen of the world and shit.

Tingginya Langit, Rendahnya Bumi

Kadang-kadang, kena ingat juga langit tinggi rendah.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Air Up There

Since I was small, I have been taught only one thing - how to win.

Everything that my parents ever taught me, was just so I could win. I once got an average of 97 per cent or something from all subjects at school.

My father's comments?

"You could have done better."

They pushed and they pushed, cultivating an insanity within me. I don't blame them. I was enjoying it as well. I was kicking ass. You beat me once, and I am after you like a starving piranha.

And how I did. Win. Lots of time. Most of the time.

Once, I got 78 per cent for English - the only time in my life I ever scored that low - cause the teacher did not like the contractions and the Latin I used to make it sound intelligent. I was depressed for a week.

It was a strange new thing, when I discovered that all the competition, the desire to win, was making me unhappy. It was making me miserable. It was much harder to realise that I could win at anything, beat anyone, but the thing that would be the right thing to do would be to rise above the competition.

Actually, there is no right or wrong, just that this path is one that works in attaining happiness through peace.

My ego says, "Amir, if you put your mind to it - ME - you can get anything you want."

Unfortunately, I no longer want anything. I am aware of the hunger I used to have, and by being aware of it, it has diminished.

At first, it was like walking in a city made of cardboard boxes. One misstep could destroy lives. I am extremely powerful. My ego is almighty. My mind is the greatest I have ever encountered, capable of fooling even me.

With great power, though, comes great responsibility. My job is to be aware of myself and keep everything in check.

Power corrupts, and the things you own - including skill, talent and power - end up owning you. If you're not careful.

I am so fucking cool.

The Awareness: Simple Exercises

Here are some exercises that have worked for me, when attempting to achieve awareness. It is not a sure guide, not a sure thing. It is simply some stuff I tried out and worked out pretty well for me.

1. Acceptance

When you are faced with 'undesirable' situations, you create unhappiness. Unhappiness is simply resistance to the present moment.

Now, can you be okay with what you are feeling? Fighting your emotions will only make it stronger. So just be still, and can you be okay with yourself being in that state, feeling what you feel?

As soon as you accept that, you sense a space around it. That is awareness.

2. Freedom.

The mind is constantly active. Try accepting the static. Acknowledge the chatter. And then, also listen to your heart. Find it. It is there. You need to be honest with yourself, not through words. In fact, if anything speaks, that is just the mind.

The heart does not speak. Awareness does not speak. It simply is.

When you can see yourself thinking, that's when you find your heart, and that's when you awaken.

3. Know your roles.

We all play roles. For various reasons. So always, always be aware of your roles, and exactly what role you are playing at any given time.

The ego, which is unconsciousness of the mind, happens when there is complete identification with the role, the character you play. The writer. The worker. The employee. The employer. The husband. The wife. The man. The woman.

Roles, as well as the ego, the mind and the pain-body serve a function.

I use my pain-body to sing songs more effectively. I connect with people's egos when writing or construct a business plan.

They all have a use. A function. But they should not be there to make you miserable.

You can be in control when you execute the functions of the roles without losing sight of the real you. The nameless you. The one without an assigned character.

If anything, just try and do number 1. Accept the state you are in. You don't have to like the situation and want to change it. If you can accept the situation, then fine. But if you can't, try to go to a deeper, more basic level where you can be okay with yourself experiencing whatever it is you are experiencing.

The Awareness

I am not conscious all the time. Most of the time, I am not aware. I am asleep.

But the concept of the Awareness, which has helped free me from many of the little stuff, was first encountered when I was reading sci-fi.

There was a big computer the size of a planet that was called the Awareness. The Awareness never spoke. It just moves, and the whole universe moves with it.

The fact that a supercomputer did not speak, was puzzling to an eight-year-old me. I did not understand that. I thought all intelligent beings speak. They communicate.

It wasn't until much later that I understood the wisdom of silence. That words - all words - are lies.

Words go through a filter, the mind, and the mind is in a constant state of resistance from the present moment. It is, at best, an unreliable source of viewpoint and opinion. At worst, the mind is a terrible liar.

Intelligence, wisdom, comes from a place where words do not exist. Nothing to dilute it from its purest form.

All I have written, are all in words. As such, it is unreliable. How can 26 alphabets and a bunch of symbols representing number define the meaning of life? As a writer, I am always aware of the limitations.

You need to discover for yourself, as I have to find that place for myself.

No one, no book, can get you there. It is, in the end, just you. Taking a trip. I cannot describe to you what it is. I can only tell you the process I went through.

And that hopefully, one day, when you are ready, the journey may be a bit simpler.

The Awareness awaits.

The Surrogates

I had a very huge pain-body. I struggled with it for years, decades. Then, I learned to accept it and let it go, so its effect was decimated.

Looking to generate more pain, my ego began looking into other people. The past affairs I have had have always been with women who had huge, huge pain-bodies.

It wasn't until recently that I noticed the pattern and realised what I, or rather my ego was doing.

Basically, if I can't experience pain anymore, it will explore and exploit other people's pain. It is sick, and that is what the ego does.

If I take a bigger picture look at it, it is like a complete person. A system that simulates the insanity of humans with several minds in it.

O, what fools these mortals be. And I was one of them.

Then comes another cycle, where the ego and the pain-body is accepted. And where do we go from here?

I don't know.

I am thankful to all those involved. I thanked them personally. If it weren't for the players in the drama that unfolded, my consciousness would not have expanded as much as it has right now. I have never been happier in my life.

Tripping the Light Fantastic

I was going to talk about the futility of egoic thought patterns a bit more, but I decided to talk about the state of my shit instead.

I just took a dump, which was mostly just gas. I was fully present for my taking the dump, and it was extremely enjoyable.

Passed some solid logs, and with it, all my problems. I am very clear when I got rid of a lot of my shit.

Having the logs of shit pass my anus was very enjoyable. It was life taking a dump through me. It was very cool. There is soul in shitting.

No Connection

I am getting TM's Unifi to replace my Maxis Broadband. I hardly take the modem anywhere anyway.

So I'm stuck with only my Blackberrys as the only link to the Internet.

I don't know what's happening out there, but I am fine. Reading stuff online has been an addiction, and this has been good to keep me from being habitual about anything.

I have a deep mistrust of habits, and I tend to stay away from them. Aside from smoking. And drinking. And taking a dump twice a day.

With only my wit and my will about me. And nothing in this universe can stop me from doing what I want. Freedom! The right of all sentient beings.


Today was a good day. I finished work early, and had some time for myself.

I spent it doing some stuff I thought I would never get done.

A few friends called up. Things are looking great for them, and I am happy.

A dear friend may have received an offer she can't refuse. Well, if that is what she wants, then all the power to her. A change in arrangements may just be what she needs.

Me? I'm always with my crazy plans. Things are looking up. I see everything a bit more clearly, and the path I chose to walk on.

When I get to a destination I like, I'll tell you.

Monday, July 12, 2010

The Mind Can Deceive You, But Your Heart Beats True

The mind is crazy. It is obsessive. It is paranoid, from millions of years of conditioning to survive. To eat, and to breed.

The mind is a flurry of activity. One time, a girl told me that she write because she needs to get the 'chattering monkeys' out of her head.

I laughed at that. Because I already considered myself a great writer, quite possibly the greatest.

Little did I realise that she was describing the insanity of the mind.

The constant need to win, the insatiable desire to be right.

Most of the evil that happens - backstabbings, real murders, and general cruelty stems from the mind, the flurry of thoughts and the emotion that comes with it.

My mind is trained to do a few things. One is solving puzzles. My mind is addicted to solving problems. It has never been enough.

Another thing about my mind is that it creates simulations and throws it to me. Thousands, perhaps millions of scenarios every day, coupled with my mind's craving for puzzles, along with my ego's constant role-playing actually gets me into cycles of problems.

In all this chaos, the only point that is reliable, is the light that comes from the heart.

Now, I have no heart, which is a role I play. So, the cavity that used to house my heart is the only portal to the Truth.

The only task is to isolate this aside from all the other streams of information and blinding viewpoints is to be still.

The mind constantly tries to drown you, overwhelm you with static. The result is an erratic representation of you in the real world. A knot of confused emotions and thoughts.

To access the Truth, one has to be still. Isolate the chatter of the mind. Don't resist it, simply accept it. And then, also listen to the heart. Not what it is saying, because any dialogue is controlled or fascilitated by the egoic mind. You need to kinda feel it. It's like being blind and feeling your way around for this thing that beats.

When you discover that, when you have found it, you need not be told that it is true. You just know.

And when you know, when you realise it, then you will accept it, and then there would be peace.

Identification with Form

I play a lot of roles. I have labels slapped on me, most of it done by me.

I am a writer. An editor. A computer programmer. A filmmaker. A creative person. A man. The Lord of Destruction. The Wolf Beneath the Tree. The Morningstar and generally a really, really, ridiculously good looking guy.

Every time I identify with these labels, these functions, these aspects, these forms, these masks, I am merely restricting myself into a very narrow definition.

My presence, my being, the existence, is so much more than a designation. More than a job. More than just my pretty face.

Coming from a deeper, more basic understanding of your self, appreciating and ultimately accepting it, this is why I can have so much confidence in tackling so many different things and not being afraid of any one or anything.

I have spoken to extremely powerful people in many different fields, and I was and still am that kid from the backwaters of Kuantan who was a bit prissy and bookish. I was and still is just me.

I have done many great and terrible things, but I was and still is just me.

I have made peace with myself. There is no one I would rather be. I do play roles, and that is how I approach certain tasks.

It is important for me to realise that form is form and is just a temporary identity, a fleeting state, while the real me is still at the wheel.

The alternative is insanity or being unconscious, which has only given me grief.

So, know your roles, be aware how you identify with forms - either ones you impose to yourself or what others expect of you - and be aware of your self, the one without the labels. The nameless you. That nameless self, is your truest self, which is you without the mind entering into it.

Maybe I should turn this into a column. Hmmm.

The Malay Male's Biggest Secrets Revealed

A lot of people as me why I keep this blog. Or why I don't sell any adspace. No Google Ads, Nuffnang, no whatever. Why?

Well, I have kept this website since before blogging was fashionable and after it has served its purpose. After blogging gave way its cool spot to social media.

Reason? Cause I felt like it. My instincts tell me to keep it alive, or bring it back from the dead. And my instincts have always been right.

Through this site, I managed to get contracts and jobs to write books, movies and TV. Through it, I met people who introduced me to more people.

If I were to calculate how much this site has given me in terms of cold hard revenue, I think that 90% of what I have is because of it.

I also got job offers and was invited to do really, really great projects because of it.

So, no ads? No problem.

Because inadvertently, unconsciously, undeliberately, it was selling myself. I was and still am the only products this website is pushing.

What you need to realise is that it doesn't work directly. Delayed gratification. And when you work on it, the intention should be true and clear.

People respond to authenticity, and that is what I bring every time. Even though these are just roles I play, it is still a part of me.

When something from your being goes to your mind and gets expressed in some way, it is always skewed through the lens that is your devious mind.

Even this distorted view is beautiful. The whole point of this is to appreciate the beauty of lies.

Accepting lies is also accepting the truth. Because the Truth exists alongside the lies.

Understanding the Truth is a lifelong goal for me. It is something that has drawn me into journalism, which is the pursuit of the Truth in a direct manner, as well as fiction - on paper, TV and movies - which are essentially lies.

I am the Truth, the light and the way. Eventually, realising that previous sentence will be the whole point of my existence, anywhere.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

House of M: Hubris

You seem to forget who and what I am.

I am the Wolf Beneath the Tree. The Morningstar. The Lord of Destruction. I AM Destruction. Lord of Entropy.

Things fall apart. The centre cannot hold. Mere anarchy is set loose upon the world.

God is in a pub. All's right with the world.

The Final Curtain

I am typing this on my netbook in a pub in Bangsar, watching a repeat of the Spain-Portugal game, while waiting for the Grand Final between Spain and Holland.

I like watching Cristiano Ronaldo lose. The only way I will ever support Portugal is if Jose Mourinho ever manages them.

Am quite full at the moment. Ate two dishes, in preparation for a game I might not watch. I use the Internet here, cause the Internet at my apartment is busted. Busted because I cut the line. Fuck Maxis Broadband, man.

If I get bored enough, I might just leave. Two hours to go before the match. I would much prefer to watch it at home, on my computer. In fact, I have never watched a full match, this World Cup. Not on TV. Just online. Too much of a hassle.

I am happy with the fact that some of the favourites got eliminated early on. Especially France, Italy and Brazil.

Fuck Brazil, man. They've won enough World Cups. They even stole the trophy.

I love it when a nobody team like Greece takes the top honours. The balance must be preserved.

On a more personal note, I have found my balance. It took a catastrophic lie and the most dangerous foe I have ever encountered - myself - to get me to a state where I don't give a shit. Again.

Big doors of opportunities are always open. We shall see what I make of things in the next few months or years.

For now, another pint of Shoggoth's Old Peculiar for me, please?

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I disconnected my Internet at home, so I have no access save for my Blackberry.

I'll also be out for most of next week. A thousand meetings to attend and I am flying East by Thursday, if things go according to plan.

Lots to tell, lots to share. But that will come in time. Patience. And then execution.


Thursday, July 8, 2010


It was a good day. I woke up, had lunch, coffee, then did some work.

Spent some time and talked to people who mattered.

Everything is clear now, with no uncertainties. I like that.

I am at peace. And I'm going to sleep now. My Internet is busted.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Putting the Signal Up

The signal is up, ya motherfuckers!

Radio Silence

My Internet is down. Maxis Broadband sucks. Unifi will take two weeks to install.

So I'm stuck with my Blackberry as the only personal Internet device I have.

Oh well.

More time for preparations before the big wave comes. And it's coming. It's coming.


My neck is killing me. I popped some painkillers. My collection is now pathetic. I only have a few left, but it'll do.

The plan is to go radio silence for a week, as I create more stuff for myself. But I guess all my plans come to naught. They always turn out better. Hahaha. I've always been lucky.

Work is okay. Things are settling into a routine before another wave comes. My other projects are at the waiting stage. This is a good time for a breather, really.

I know that I can always trust my instincts. I can be wrong, but my instincts have always served me well.

Patience. Wait for the moment. Wait for it. Wait. And then BAM! What now, motherfucker?!

Oh well.

I am so fucking good.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010


I woke up on the floor. My pants down to my knees. Goddamn belt's busted.

There was a hot sensation in my stomach. It swishes around. I didn't feel too good.

Didn't think I would make it to work today. I was not feeling well.

Then, I drank a bottle of mineral water. And everything is fine again. In fact, I feel great. Haven't felt this great in years.

Batman always has a plan. And he never stops.

Sing City

I went to the place already high from the pints I had before at the pub.

"What is this place?" I asked.

My contact mumbled something. Well, this is interesting.

I went up two elevators and saw the Don eating some peanuts.

"Give him the package," said the man.

One of the others handed me an envelope.

It was heavy.

There's something metallic inside. I didn't need to open it to know what's inside.

"I don't do this thing anymore," I said.

"Take out the picture."


"Take out the picture."

I took it out. The single sheet of document, not the .44.

Oh shit. The Yellow Man.

He's hard to kill. Not even with the .44. Not even with Lucille. I tried once, but it didn't take. The Yellow Man is impervious to bullets.

I tried to get away from it all, but I guess sometimes, your past catches up to you.