Death Be Not Proud

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

by John Donne

Individualism

We value our privacy very much. I used to regard my religion as a very personal matter, even. However, just recently, I found it as hardly personal.

These days, we are used to individual rights- thanks to the advent of civil rights movement. Thus, sometimes we forget that Islam is a highly communal religion- not a personal religion like any others. Islam is after all, by nature, an evangelistic religion.

The strength of us Muslims is our faith and spirit of brotherhood. Even in solat, this very personal act of worshipping God, it is still more preferable to offer salah in jamaah.

In fact, God said to us that we should save ourselves AND our own family from the fired of jahannam. God asks us to do amr ma'ruf nahy munkar, but also differentiate between tajassus( spying) and being caring. Islam also stress a lot on charity and performing good deeds to people around us.

Such is why I need to change my mindset. As much as I value my privacy, I must allow myself to fulfill my role as Muslim who are mindful of my friends, aware of what is happening in this world and together, strive to the ways of Allah taala.

There are times for myself and there are times for other things as well.

Out Out, Baby Out .

Moving out of Huia today. Another phase of my life ended.

Tempus fugit.

Faith

Every day that I lay on my bed, waiting for my eyes to close, I always ask myself , " what's in for tomorrow but misery?"
Failures and disappointments, weariness and disgust, regret and mistakes are the common themes of life, with short happiness and shallow relationships in between.

" So why do you want to continue living? "
I don't, my love. I always wish that I won't wake up from this sleep. Just let me sleep. I don't want to face the world. I don't want to see the people. I don't want to see myself. Let me dream. Let me dream forever.

"But you wake up everyday- and you continue living."

Because I am afraid of death, my love.

Yes.

Because I am afraid of death.






...

.....

He smiled.

Fatalism

Life strikes you hard. It doesn't favor you. You feel worthless.You think that God hates you- which in my case, I think He is. But why so sad, dear heart?Because God hates you?People may tell you that thus seek thee forgiveness, repentance and live the way of our Lord- for His Kingdom is nigh. I'd say, never mind. Thanks for the advice, though. I'll never blame any kind of existence for my misery- aside from my own existential being. Such action to me is a mere justification of your own helplessness and your failure to do something about it.

I actually admire people who hold faith in God whenever they are in trouble. In fact, I respect them so much- a respect of a man who fails to replicate the same thing for himself. But, I feel sad to people who make God as an excuse. A fatalistic view of life I don't mind, but a fatalistic view of God is absurd. Existence of God is ridiculously complex enough to be subjugated to fatalism- as if life isn't a misery already.

Without God, human is nothing. That is what I have been taught- and for fear of unintended apostasy, I don't want to comment more on this matter.

Bye.

Before It's Too Late.

I need to take a better care of myself.

Almost three weeks after the holiday started, I found myself in complete mess.

Shaving? Nah.

Cooking? What is that?

Laundry every 10 days ? Huh?

Vacuum cleaning once a week? Forget about it.

Jogging on Monday every week ? Glee.

Walking around Domain for some fresh air every Friday? The Nanny.

With this kind of attitude and the amount of food I've been eating daily, I would say that in 2 years, I would definitely qualify for the Biggest Loser.

Of Marriage

People say there is no difference between COMPLETE & FINISHED. But there is a difference. When you marry the right one you are COMPLETE. When you marry the wrong one you are FINISHED!

Self-centredness

I do things ,my ways.

It's kind of complicated, you see.  I wouldn't say I am nerdy and uptight , sometimes I did, but I am rather merely, tiny-winy bureaucratic in nature at some matters. It's very unhealthy , of course. Who wants to be living in a world of red tapes, full of rules and regulations?

But when things didn't go my way, people hardly find me accommodating; for example,  I fought ( ah, just being rude, basically, not some fist fight) with then vice-principal of my school who thinks that since he is a bloody teacher he can practically do anything. I didn't really spare a thought or mind to whom I'm speaking with when discussing a lot of things, even when the comments were close to blasphemy. I broke school rules quite a many times, but they weren't anything dramatic such as slapping a teacher or burning the school - though I had in those years instances when I think my hand was burning hot and some teachers' skin ( especially their faces) looked like a punching bag.

But I think it's normal. I have the idea that some teachers ( and friends, probably) might have the same feelings towards my skin as well. Okay, that's a problem- because I would be a future teacher, and there is such a thing called karma! *gasp*

But there you see, I hardly know myself. At first even I thought myself as "skema"- in fact, I was a pretty nice kid back then in the primary school- minus all those moments of bullying and been made fun of, I managed to stay out of trouble quite remarkably.

Secondary school is when everything changes. I'd say those were the times I discover various potentials of myself. Then I also realise that my opinions don't actually matter- it's just for the sake of conversation that they are agreeing or disagreeing with what I said. I'd say, tough. Me too, I finally realised. I don't actually care ( I care, sometimes, but let's just leave it at that) what people are suggesting because in the end, I always believe in myself first. And so do theirs.

People have motives. So am I. Still,  the art of convincing people should be left for politicians or rhetoricians alone because apparently, human society is never as pessimistic as it was ever before. I blame post-modernism for that. Haha. 

Nevertheless, nevertheless, sure, I know that the world doesn't revolve around me. That I always know. I know how insignificant I am to the world, to the society, to the people I know . But my life is all I got, and so I will decide how I will lead my life. Most of the times I simply follow the rules and the norms, but at times, please don't feel offended if I don't do things how people expect me to be - I just didn't.

Maybe at times I am enforcing my opinion upon others , and so you can speak all you want, because at that time, I am sure that I forgot  and need some reminding of the Golden Rule : why should  I care about others?

Ballad of Reading Gaol.

A few stanzas from one of Oscar Wilde's finest poems : The Ballad of Reading Gaol. I started re-reading Oscar Wilde again these days. Best read in times of depression because it makes you less depressed since there are other people more depressed than you are, apparently.

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
  Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
  Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
  My pain I could not feel.

I only knew what hunted thought
  Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
  With such a wistful eye;
The man had killed the thing he loved
  And so he had to die.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves
  By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
  Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
  The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
  And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
  Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
  The dead so soon grow cold.

Carl Jung.

Sometimes I wish that my life is a mere fantasy, a fabrication, a farce- perhaps just another bad dream of kings or queens from the ages past. When I return to reality, however, I then have to desperately console myself : " well, at least it isn't a nightmare."

Humanity.

The best poem that describes my belief. I'm so happy to discover the works of Cummings. Brilliant, so brilliant.

Humanity i love you by E. E. Cummings

Humanity i love you
because you would rather black the boots of
success than enquire whose soul dangles from his
watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both

parties and because you
unflinchingly applaud all
songs containing the words country home and
mother when sung at the old howard

Humanity i love you because
when you're hard up you pawn your
intelligence to buy a drink and when
you're flush pride keeps

you from the pawn shops and
because you are continually committing
nuisances but more
especially in your own house

Humanity i love you because you
are perpetually putting the secret of
life in your pants and forgetting
it's there and sitting down

on it
and because you are
forever making poems in the lap
of death Humanity

i hate you

Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha.

Poem by Naser Khoswrow, as quoted in Ali Shariati's monumental work, Hajj.

The pilgrims returned with reverence. They were thankful to the Merciful God. 

On their way to Mecca from Arafat, They repeatedly said "Labbaika" with great respect. 

While tired of experiencing the hardships of the desert of They rejoiced that they are saved from the torture and the fire. 

They have performed the Hajj and completed the Umra. Now, they safely return to their homelands. 

I took time to go and welcome them back, Although men of my class did not normally do this. But among the crowd of this caravan, I had a dear and very sincere friend. 

I asked him how he accomplished? This very difficult and fearful trip! 

I informed him that since he had departed and left me alone All I could feel was regretfulness and sadness. 

Now, I am happy that you performed the Hajj, And you are the only Hajj in our homeland. 

Now, tell me, how was your performance? How did you respect that holy territory? 

When you were about to remove your clothes and wear the Ihram What was your "intention" during those exciting moments? 

Did you absolutely avoid all the things that must be avoided And whatever is inferior to Almighty Allah? 

He replied NO! 

I asked him: If he said "labbaika" With full knowledge and great respect? If he heard the command of Allah? Or, if he obeyed as Ibrahim did? 

He replied NO! 

I asked him: While he was in Arafat, While he stood so close to Almighty God, Did he have a chance to know Him? Was he not eager to learn a bit of the knowledge? 

He replied NO! 

I asked him: When he entered the Kaaba As the family of "Kahf and Raquim" had done, Did he deny his self-centeredness? Did he fear the punishment of the hereafter? 

He replied NO! 

I asked him: When he shot the idols, Did he think of them as evil? Did he then avoid wrong deeds? 

He replied NO! 

I asked him: When he offered the sacrifice, To feed a hungry person or an orphan, Did he first think of Allah? And, did he then kill his selfishness? 

He replied NO! 

I asked him: When he stood in Ibrahim's position, Did he rely absolutely on God? Sincerely and with strong faith? 

He said NO! 

I asked him: While he circumambulated, When he made the Tawaf of Kaaba, Was he reminded of all the angels, Who constantly circumambulate this world? 

He said No! 

I asked him: During his Sa'y, While he was running between Safa and Marwa. Was he sanctified and purified? 

He said NO! 

I asked him: Now that he had returned from Mecca, And felt home-sick for the Kaaba Did he bury his "self" there? Was he impatient to go back? 

He said NO! 

"Of whatever you have asked me so far, I have understood nothing!!!" 

I said: Oh friend, you have not performed the Hajj! And, you have not obeyed God! 

You went to Mecca and visited the Kaaba! You spent your money to buy the hardships of the desert! 

If you do decide to go to Hajj again, Try to perform it as I have instructed you! 

Death by Chocolate.

Giapo's Chocolate Day was awesome!

Organic Dark Chocolate.

Chocolate Fantasy.

Black and White.

Chocolate and Peanuts.

Chocolate Caramel.

Chocolate Brownie.

Giapo Rocher.

Chocolate Tim-Tam.

Chocolate Toblerone.

Chocolate and Orange.

White Chocolate and Strawberry.

Chocolate Milk.

Choc Cookie.

White Chocolate.

Chocolate Raspberry.

Chocolate Hazelnut. 

and a few other names that escaped my mind.

I feel so happy yesterday. Sugar high, perhaps. Haha. But it really was awesome. I was in chocolate heaven. 

Democracy

Majority rule will only work if you're considering individual rights. You can't have five wolves and one sheep vote on what they want to have for supper - Larry Flynt. 

Criticism.

I'm disappointed with Malaysia.

Many times I tell myself, things get better. It gets better. Then we see unethical government practices, then we see chaotic opposition parties. Then we have misuse of Islam as a way to garner strong Malay votes. Then we have Deepavali advertisement deeply offensive to the Hindus.Then, I almost wept when I heard the news that the government move away from investigating teaching malpractice of canning students for bringing non-halal food to a school to just focus on the religious status of the student's dad. As I mentioned in Facebook, " the respective teacher must be laughing to orgasm now". 

You see, ALL people said that you can't judge Islam by its Muslims. True. If that were the case, so fine. I won't look at anyone, any Muslims. Instead, I'll just create my own understanding of Islam. Is that so? Wrong. Ridiculous understanding there.  Still, Islamic practices are deeply rooted in the practices of the people- the right people, that is. But unfortunately, if JAKIM is not the right people, who is? Al-Qaeda? Taliban?

Deep inside, I have an internal struggle of my identities as a Muslim, and yet at the same, a humanist, a liberal, and a long time ago, an agnostic.

I believe in freedom of sinning. I believe in Tariq Ramadan's opinion that a Muslim can peacefully convert to any religion he/she wants to with the condition that afterwards he/she doesn't ridicule Islam or propagate their faith to others.

On the other side, I am disturbed by the rising offensive remarks towards God done by any liberals. I don't mind actually arguments regarding the existence of God, but I don't see any reasons to make harsh, demeaning  remarks about other people's God, or their own God- precisely because they are just making a fool out of themselves. Why some people are clearly angry to something so surreal, which to them it may actually never exist in the first place?

Every single social action is political. Silence is one of available social actions. So silence is political. Doing nothing therefore is still a political action.

Yet, should I just be silent? I don't believe in Islamic state or community ideals, nor do I admire the Western societies.

But, this world is not about me. I am a single entity who makes no difference if I were to live or not in this world. Therefore, I don't really mind if in the end, people collectively choose any ideals that they want : democracy, Islamic theocracy, anarchist, every single ideals of a community.

I can just grumble. But, at least, I grumble to something real - people, community, principles. I grumble on my own incompetence, my own helplessness. I grumble for my ridiculous, too idealistic principles.

I don't feel like criticising God, whatever God that is, because in the end, God is just the motivational aspects of it. 

Most of the time, I'm criticising myself.

Who Am I?

 ( My friends and I outside of our hostel,  one of the days after SPM examination ended. wow. 4 years ago )

I hope I do not confuse those who know me, or those who just know me a little bit. You see, my writings are very much reflected at the moment I was writing those articles. I can never represent my whole self in just a short span of space. I am more than that, I am more complex than that, as we all are indeed.

What I wrote is just a figment of my life, of my opinion.

So do the people who I am socialising with. They might see me differently. I love jokes. I am a cynic and as far as critical self-reflection is concerned, I really am somehow egocentric and self-centred; I always have this absurd urge to dominate the conversation or even if it is not possible, I tried to change the topic into what I deemed interesting to me or talk two different, unrelated things continuously without a break ( which had created so much trouble in my Maths class back in KMS) . I did try to change these days- by not talking. = ) Nevertheless, I take the pride that sometimes, I do listen and as miracles happen, I did sometimes respond correctly to people's opinions and I had encouraged a deep, mutually respectful conversation with friends, especially those I hold dear to me.

When I am alone, sometimes I spent the whole day being a simple young adult- watching movies and drama series, surfing about local celebrities and international stars, browsing the websites that have been linked to my Facebook friends, or do some religious reflection on myself. I like this side of me.  At other times, however, I might go to the opposite side- I immerse myself in books I think are important to humanity, I wept over the politics of Malaysia as if I were an idealistic, young politician, or I immersed myself in spiritual, non- religious reflections of myself. Some people call it self-destruction mode, I call it balancing the yin and yang of my mind- connecting the conscious and the subconscious. Unfortunately, most of my blog writings are based on these "self-destructive" moments.

So, this blog post is to those who care about me,and although I think there aren't that many, but there are.

I thank you for all the advices, soft thoughts, encouragements. I don't think I deserve all these since I inflicted all these problems myself anyway, but thanks. Thanks a lot.

I always say that I don't put friendship very highly in my list, and indeed, I am, but I admit that it is also a sweet thing. Friendship is a sweet thing- so fragile, so illusory, but the feelings are real, the honesty is real, the respect is real. I just don't think I deserve too much of this sweetness, knowing who I really am inside.

But when the melancholy fit shall fall
    Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
    And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
    Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
        Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
    Imprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
        And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes. 

( John Keats, Ode on Melancholy)

Bigotry.

Secular bigots exist, very much alive and flaming indeed. Just as active as the religious bigots- those people who are eternally bound to hate. Unfortunately they didn't kill each other, which I always hope for.Instead they prey upon non-suspecting citizens and good Samaritans who don't have the gut to say " leave me alone" out and loud.

21.

Today, I spent hours writing a reflection about myself. The hours where I was supposed to be studying educational psychology, I spent them writing about all these failures, mistakes, disappointment that I had all these years of my life . I wrote a 8000+-words of offensive, blasphemous and suicidal essay from my childhood to this point of time , to which I mentally torture myself to remember all those events in my life I want to keep hiding them forever before. All those pains, happiness; the green grass, the blood, the tears- today, it wasn't just a figment of my memories. I made them all afresh again. All as vivid and as real as possible.

All for a promise I made a while ago. A promise need to be fulfilled when I am finally a 21-year-old lad. I planned to retype all these words I've written into this blog, but looking at the number of words, I don't think so. In fact, I am too mentally drained now.

But simply speaking, I want to say that I am disappointed with my life.

I am still a son who fails to understand my parents, who still somehow despise them for all I've faced in my life. The emotional trauma I had. The feelings of sadness I felt.  I still couldn't get rid of these revengeful feeling of being unwanted , being a burden, source of blame. I still couldn't let myself forgive them, even though I know very well that they didn't intend to do so, it was just my own imposed imagination. In fact,  I even understand the situational circumstances that we were living in. The idea of me being a 'perfect son', the idea of me being an example to my siblings, the idea that in the big family of us lower class people- I am among the few who are having the potential to get out of this pathetic social situation we're living in- like my dad had done.

But what did it brings me to? The more 'intelligent' I become, I become more egoistic, more ruthless. I forgot my roots- the community of simple-minded relatives who settle for half and loving every single moment of it- or pretending to. This education of mine makes me question all the things my parents didn't do when I was growing up. All the exposure I had made me realise that my family and I don't function as what a typical, middle-class do. But, we were originally not from a middle-class family! We were borderline lower class people, and we were simply moving up the social ladder.And it does come with much consequences. Suddenly, we found that we have more money that we ever had before;  I was able to have so much of allowance- and I don't know on how to handle them correctly. My mum who previously worked so many jobs at one time, thinks that she can relax more. Now she had time to care for my little siblings.  My dad who used to be such a simple-minded guy is now so ambitious - almost every year he is awarded with a certificate of work excellence for his astounding work. He is now a really committed police officer. Now the family starts to become more stable, more able to have more time together, and my parents learn better parenting styles. They did change, and they change for the better. They moved on.

But I don't. I hate myself for being ancient. I hate myself for not readily accepting the fact that I live when it was a hard life, where my parents are still very young and yet have so many responsibilities , and they were so many trial and errors in raising me. I couldn't accept the fact that I was their experiment. I was the eldest, and they are two young people in love who underestimate the toughness of life. I was a child living in the transition period. When I see my little siblings, I become jealous. I blamed my own existence in my given time line. Suddenly the family starts to become so typical, so normal, that I don't feel belong to them any more.I am still haunted by my childhood, my teenage years.

And I am still not be able to fully understand my friends. I am no longer open for disappointments. I am afraid of trust. It's not the problem of my life. Most of people I  befriended with already know many significant parts of my life, my family- and sometimes I know theirs.It's not an issue. I just don't want them having any hope, any expectations from me - as much as I struggle to doubt everyone around me. Sometimes I feel very guilty when I show myself caring about my friends, when in fact I always have the idea that friendship is disposable. I am disposable. In few years time, I am easily forgotten and them be forgotten. I fortify myself ; before I was forgotten, I should forget people first. I must win the battle. It is unfair to them, some of them I know are very nice. But I will no longer be the one who always lingers in soon-to-be-lost relationships. I am too afraid of losing again. I start to view things around in terms of profit and interest- and it really takes its toll on how I view this life. I am always find it hard to apologise to people. I am always sceptical. 

But most importantly, I am now facing the core crisis of mine : faith.

I was never comfortable to be static in one thing. I always question. I get angry. I blame some higher power. I explore all the possibility. Sometimes I understand the tragic nature of humanity and sins by actually indulging in them. I am many. This middle of the year I had the most blissful period of my life. I indulge in simplicity. I make myself belonging to a part of something bigger. I don't question much. I starts to adapt myself to really honest and truthful friendship based on something very sacred and holy.

But I'm slowly losing my way. Or rather, I start losing myself again, purposely. I can't accept the new me. I struggled in vain to create an equilibrium. My obsession in becoming an Instrument of Evil worsens............

I am too tired. I feel like ending everything last night. I feel it again after I finished writing the essay just now. What a useless twenty one years old, I think.

But then, I realised , I must be so naive back when I was 15 when I made this promise. I really regret this decision. 21 is too short a time to evaluate myself, and to put a halt to my development, to choose. I thought before that at 21, I must have less anger, less damning thoughts, less depression-I should now able to think clearly and make my decision-  but I overestimated myself.

For years I never feel truly happy with my birthday become of this promise I made. In Taiping, I feel really guilty when the whole class organise my birthday- because my birthday is actually a depressing moment every year in my life . In KMS , if I'm not mistaken, in my first year,  I went to Blok Akademik alone at night of my birthday, off my handset. In my second year I went back home to my house in Selayang. It's just too depressing, after all, my birthday shows that I'm ageing fast and yet still clueless and confused about life.

OK enough.

Till then, and ...Selamat hari lahir, wan.

p/s : I had a wonderful dream yesterday night. A garden of blossoming magnolia trees like the ones I saw in Dunedin.

Tennyson.

I am suddenly interested to read Tennyson after listening to this song and watching this music video. Sadly I've had other authors to read first. This song is beautiful, and the lyric is really something dear to my heart.

If I Die Young- Band Perry

If I die young bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
oh oh oh oh

Lord make me a rainbow, I’ll shine down on my mother
She'll know I’m safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
ain't even grey, but she buries her baby

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I’ve had just enough time

If I die young bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I’ve had just enough time

And I’ll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom
I’m as green as the ring on my little cold finger
I’ve never known the lovin' of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand
There’s a boy here in town says he’ll love me forever
Who would have thought forever could be severed by

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I’ve had just enough time

So put on your best boots and I’ll wear my pearls
What I never did is done

A penny for my thoughts, oh no I’ll sell them for a dollar
They're worth so much more after I’m a goner
And maybe then you’ll hear the words I been singin’
Funny when you're dead how people start listenin’

If I die young bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
oh oh

The ballad of a dove
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep ‘em in your pocket
Save them for a time when your really gonna need 'em oh

The sharp knife of a short life, well
I’ve had just enough time

So put on your best boots and I’ll wear my pearls

Sedih.

I read this, and I feel quite demotivated. Emasculated, even. I fare very badly on those criterion.

Haha. Nah. I don't give much of a thought- just a blog post.

I don't know how to grill a steak, since err, nah , I don't eat steak?

I did iron my shirt.

Nope, I don't know how to change the car tyre. I've learn that, practice that, but so far I haven't seen the reason to really remember all those stuffs. Maybe because I'm not yet an all-time driver.

Build a fence, nope. Most of us Malaysian men I think don't really know that...because we bought houses with fences already? I know how to paint the wall, though.

I can jumpstart a car. I am so bad in switching off the lights after rain- I had to, after much scolding.

Football. Not interested. At all.
Not even rugby.


What's a double Windsor??Google google. Oh...tie. Yes I can. = )

Mow the lawn? No. We can always hire people up. Maybe the kiwis don't have such kinda culture of menebas- I can menebas, or at least, I tried to.

Fishing? No.


Haha man flu is a myth.Or so I heard.

Since I am not much a 'man' according to this ranking, this stereotypical-gender-roles-oriented ranking, I am a 'less of a man' man. Hahaha.

Nah. Whatever. I don't look at people and see their gender. I look at their clothes and deduce what kind of person they are. I'm that shallow. Hahaha.

Ice cream.

I realise now, I really, really, really love ice-cream.

Either those 1.5 litre ice-cream bought from Giant or Tesco or Forte..

or those 20 sen per piece ice pop,

or those 20 sen per piece aiskrim sirap, milo, sarsi, cendol, oren, asam masin...

or those quite expensive ice cream such as NZ Natural or baskin robins,

or those delicious , marvelous Italian gelato like Giapo.

They are all lovely! Marvellous! Great!

The Politics of Font- Facebook, You One Hell Of A Politician.

Strangely enough, this new smaller font for Facebook page to me is a marketing disaster. But nevermind, ageism and eyesore agenda aside, I personally think that it might be a blessing in disguise. Some people like this new tweak, I don't.

1) Smaller pictures at News feed. 

I am those guys who never bother to check other people's profiles. It's too much a job so I tend to simply rely on the news feed to 'stalk' other people's lives.

But to me, the pictures, are too small- I am not that curious people who always feel the need to investigate things that aren't clear to me. Some pictures of a group photo uploaded into Facebook are plain too small now. A friend of mine is tagged there. Nah, it's too small. I'm too lazy to click them. Yadda yadda you live a great life , have so many friends, okay. In fact, now that the profile pictures in news feed are too small- I expect that Facebook now is silently encouraging its users to make a passport-sized photo of theirs as their profile picture- a picture of a mountain and you- can't even see what kind of shade are you wearing.

Wow. Indoctrination.

2) Smaller font- less influence. 

You see , size matters. A larger font is symbolic of importance. Yesterday, I read the comments and statements on Facebook news feed- it was so small I somehow think that what they said are so not important. They were like just some small scribbles on a wall. I better read a book. Or read the BBC news online.  Good for me then. Now I don't have to feel intellectually stimulated by people's opinion on Facebook and respond and google them all. Like yesterday Ustaz Abdullah Zaik posted a few comments about harakat islamiah and I feel nah , " too long, too small, what is he talking about?". Haha now I understand why people couldn't bear to read my long-winded and terribly handwritten essay.

3) Smaller font - less time stalking. 

We all had that time when we bought a book with too small a font , and we hate that eyesore feeling? Either we finish it as quick as possible because we are really eager to know the ending or we stop reading it after all.

4)  Better understanding of my internet browser. 

Now I know what is the use of zoom, what is the usefulness of ctrl and +, ctrl and -, ctrl and mousewheel. Now I also know the usefulness of a larger facebook font, but at the same time too big a wikipedia article- meaning that I can't open them both at a same time. Too much a good thing in a single time, perhaps.