Silent Before Dawn. Shh.

Enlightenment. Visualizing. Brewed Steaming Black Coffee by the desk with laptop's fan spinning puffs of wind out of the compartment. Estrella's lazy jazzy songs softly caressing my ears in the background. Night without daylight white noise is......spongy stubborn. Screen radiating tender glows of moonlight. Ohya, assignment attended too. Fingerprints piano-ing carbonized dark keyboard. Time hanging by the edge of speed 3 ceiling fan. Rustling of roommate's breath. Vivid? Perhaps.

And if only one thing had happened differently,
if that shoelace hadn't broken,
or that delivery truck had moved moments earlier,
or that package had been wrapped and ready , because the girl hadn't broken up with her boyfriend,
or that man had set his alarm and got up five minutes earlier,
or that taxi driver hadn't stopped for a cup of coffee,
or that woman had remembered her coat and had gotten into an earlier cab,
Daisy and her friend would have crossed the street.
And the taxi would have driven by.
But life being what it is,
a series of intersecting lives and incidents,
out of anyone's control,
that taxi did not go by,
and that driver was momentarily distracted.
And that taxi hit Daisy.


You could be mad as a mad dogat the way things went.
You can swear and curse the fates...
But when it comes to the end...
You have to let go.


For what it's worth,it's never to late,or in my case,too early,to be whoever you want to be.
There is no time limit,start whenever you want.
You can change or stay the same.
There are no rules to this thing.
We can make the best or the worst of it.
I hope you make the best of it.
And I hope you see things that startle you.
I hope you feel things you never felt before.
I hope you meet people with a different point of view.
I hope you live a life you're proud of.
If you find that you're not,
I hope you have the strenght to start all over again.


Goodnight，Daisy。

Goodnight，Benjamin。

Courtesy Of Mashed Potato

Seriously, the title has nothing to do with the content of this blog post.

Here I am, sliding my eyeballs left to right and blink my eyelids once every moment whenever I feel like it with an over-riped apple sitting quietly ( I can sense his anger of not eating him and attempt to gain my attention by fermenting a fragrant over-riped apple scent in the air, not unpleasant anyway compared to human-odored clothes and experience of throwing plastic bag stuffed full of black blossomed banana skins and half filled Maggi cups with seasoning and oil droplets flapping on the surface of the mixture) by my desk.He's obedient, never quack a complain, just squat silently with his buttock literally touch the desk surface and gleam with a healthy red+yellow+brown reflection.

Tranquil.

I may dump all my papers and notes into a few piles, imagining soldiers in WWII seeking for strategic ground both for hiding and counter the attack; I may throw plastics bags upside down and try to float them in the air, as if parachutes from the reinforcement team; I may fold my clothes not-so-neatly and arrange them from light to dark and turn it over and over again in my wardrobe; I may refill my stainless steel cup with RO water from the machine and stir it together with the leftovers of cereal (as I just drank my Quacker's Cereal) and down it gulp...

Yes, I may.

Now I am typing blocks of words and arrange them in such a sequence that they possess meanings and give messages to the readers yet at the same time doesn't confuse the readers for words are brilliantly and individually outstanding and they interlink when comes to presentation of a massive project to the audience as in the receivers. Don't get in?

Words are important. Especially to your presumably attentive listeners.

Anyway, the one and only audience is my beloved lecturer. And I haven't start my revision YET.

I am mashed.

What Happen To The Rational Part Of My Brain

I am staring intensely at this beautiful scenery with busted full of serenity and tenderness.


The subject I am looking at is a mother cat breastfeeding her little kitten,both of them lazing on the abandoned sofa, ground floor of my dorm, 5 minutes to strike 7pm, sunlight gasping faintly with tiredness of a work-loaded day.


The kitten chew and bit his mother's tits and trying to suck fluid out of her mother's breast.


Furs smoothly combed to 1 side,the kitten inherited brownish tiger stripes from his mother.


I do wonder when the subject grow 2 hands and walk with backbone upright and with clothes on, what's the reaction from the public.


I squat down and duckwalk towards them,slowly, not to interrupt the calmness which is floating freely in the atmosphere.


The mother cat seems to enjoy the breastsucking.


She close her eyes and lay down on her front legs, while the kitten rolls as he drink and successfully hold his mother's tits with his tiny paws.


Almost the same response from a human baby.


His almond eyes reflects his hunger and dependence on her mother kindness.


Night is the time to herd the sheep back,
I assumed.

Announcement Here By The Penge-blog

1. I am thinking of separating the movie reviews out of this blog.

2. I am considering the option of introducing music in a new blog.

3. I am weighting the choice of writing book comments in a different blog.

4. I am flipping the pages of the alternatives on revealing my life experience in this blog.

5. I am looking for the time trail as I had maimed it in order to cope with my hectic lifestyle.

6. I am contradicting myself by stating here that I am busing with minor matters.

7. I am conjuring an image of my personality to the public by exposing my inner part of my mind here if they are what they are presented.

8. I am hi-bye.

Hi, bye.

Clock/Debate/Mouth

For the time being the intercollege debate competition ends at this point，the point where you can trace your fingertip on the straight lengthy timeline in your life calender and detect that particular bulge. Enough for the nonsensical mumble, our team won a second place in the competition. So, I am supposed to leap with joy and shout out my lung that I had won my 1st award in UKM. I pretended that everyone in the team are happy with the result outcome and throwing humorous teases to each other on nicknames and funny moments during training. (Well, our opponent was our training partner before the debate competition) I am supposed to express my gratitude to my fellow friends as well as my trainers for they lent me a platform to embrace the vast spiderweb of knowledge, frauds and manipulating of words in debate. I should point towards the sky and laughed "Ho ho ho" because of the successfulness of leaving an image in the audience's eyes. Turn the clockhand in the clockwise manner, we can click the memories together by adding blocks and blocks of them compactly into the metaphorical storage and bind them with actions thoughts and feelings. Hence, me; hence, you.

Adieu...Mr Fanatic Rabbit.

When we roll a dice, the chances to get a six out of it is even compared to the other five numbers.

That's the reason why I hate to roll the dice, as we can't predict the outcome of the dice rolling.

Then we have no ideas what will that particular six will bring us to. A snake head? A ladder?

Again, that's the second reason why I hate to roll dice.

Well, a snake's tail is ok, since it can tickle us and trigger out laughter nerves.

We laugh because it is funny to be tickled by a snake tail, as we can think,"Believe it or not, a snake tail actually makes me laugh! Hahahaha!!!"

Hahahaha!!!!

(Wipe away tears from the laughter)

Funny isn't it? A rabbit laughed when he encounter a snake tail.

It must be an uneducated rabbit, I decided.

Is education necessary to teach a rabbit how to react when it encounter a snake tail?

Most of the experiments occurred in this rounded world proves that if you put an alive rabbit together with an alive snake, the experiment will ends with a burping snake and it's bulgy tummy.

Burp.

Sounds like you will never get a six no matter how many times you tried to roll the dice.

Pathetic, isn't it?

What is the difference between an educated rabbit and an uncivilised rabbit?

School life and Critical Appreciation

Hi it's me again.

Sometimes I do wonder the significance of manipulating words in order to implant ideas or concepts into readers' brain.

Squishy as they might be, readers can simply shut off their interpretation part of mind and stare blankly at the screen as if some malfunctioning laser scanner who refused to scan the details of an item, hoho.

It may sounds like the writer had reached a stage where readers are and will struggle to climb up and reach that particular jar of concepts.

Hence assumptions come in.

A assumed so-and-so press this button in order to get the machine to run.

B thought by kicking so-and-so part of the machine it will heigh ha and galloped.

C preferred "Shower Me With Your Love" kinda teaching and the machine will kneel down and repent "Sorry it's my mistake for not working!"

A machine is a machine, afterall.

Same occurred in words.

They have no heartbeats, no hunger, no thirst, no pain, no anything.

Yet they conquer EVERYTHING.

Sometimes I do wonder we as the manipulator or words.

Words said: Heigh Ha!

素食主义的旋转木马

七月。

你站在月台上，以懒散的眼神观察一辆陈旧的学生巴士徐徐而过，仿佛一只蜗牛背着积水的贝壳雨中漫步。巴士喷出几股浓烟，带点商业性，又缓缓消失在清幽的空气里。不得不勾起记忆里吸烟者背影的潇洒，你想。你拖着鞋跟已磨平的Cros黑鞋，肩膀架着Larrie背包挣扎吱呀作响。看一看自己，蓝色短袖上衣搭配一条微皱的Orlando衫裤，标准学生样吧。又是一天，你揉了揉休息了四个小时的双眼，齿轮开始运作。

8点16分。

当梦境入侵时，一切是美好的。你无权做主，只能在虚无的真实感中漂浮。如水母般轻轻地随波逐流，时而温柔地披上一层薄薄的阳光膜，犹如初恋情人的亲吻。你张开双手游泳，怀抱梦境时毫无保留。你可与梦中情人在黑暗里寻找对方，靠触觉交流。过程中言语是不必要的，哪怕一旦开口发出声音，梦境就粉碎了。往前一摸，嘴唇是湿润的，不知是否涂了点口红。你靠近，两块温热的磁铁异性相投。气氛沿袭而来，好像天上的手往下狂泻沸腾的空气。害羞没必要占领, 她说，浪漫就随它去吧。毕竟只是一场梦，浪漫不管用了，你回答。是吗，她摇了摇手里的铃，鼻尖碰一碰你的脖子，再靠在你的胸口，安稳如直升机找到降落点。吻多一次行吗，她问。你点头，再让触觉主宰你。

9点23分。

你站在月台上。梦醒了。

A glowing giraffe with pigeon wings met an innocent boy

"The decision is yours." said the giraffe.

"Which means I can choose what I want to be?" the boy replied.

"It depends. In certain circumstance you were given a chance to do so, but not every options are tailored to your need. " He twisted his head and blinked his dreamy eyes.

"Why do you say so Mr giraffe?" the boy questioned.

"As you can see, the choice of picking an alternative way to solve your problem(IF you need to solve 1 currently) is the same as picking a fresh and fleshy fish among the fishes in front of the fishmonger. To take or not to take, to give or not to give. Your mind will always swings between the two options and weight both of them on the balance so that you will not regret in future,I supposed. " He clamped his hoots together and made a prayer gesture.

"What if both fishes are not fresh? Do I have to cover my nose and pick the stinking fish by it's tail and forced to pay for it? Rotten fishes are bad for health, you know. " the boy scratched his head.

"Eventually the fishmonger or whoever-he/she-is(passerby 1, hawker, senior) will make the decision for you. It's better to choose your own fish rather than take what you have prescribed right? At least in your mind you will feel better as you are the one who make your own decision afterall. Ohya, you can even decide how to cook the fish!" The giraffe patted the boy's shoulder, flapped his wings with sympathy.

"They are rotten fishes! I will get stomachache no matter how I eat them! Fried steamed boiled barbecued roasted, fish is a fish and will remain as a fish. " The boy pointed at his own tummy and showed a painful expression.

"Then pity for you. Next time,be wise to look for a better fishmonger, or by all mean, look for fresh smelling fishes. You need to pick your own fish at the end of the day." Mr giraffe tied himself into a ribbon knot and danced around the boy.

"Is it that IMPORTANT to pick a fish?" the boy doubted.

"A definitely yes. It's linked to your future and it matters whether you have stomachache or not after you eat that particular fish. Fresh and tasty fishes are scarce nowadays so better be satisfied of the fish that you have picked. " Mr giraffe said.

"Do you eat fish Mr giraffe?"the boy gazed at Mr giraffe.

"Unfortunately I can't even I am looking forward to taste a fish. It's an unspoken rule that giraffes consumes leaves from trees,not stinking flesh from the fish's bodies. Wingless or not, giraffes will not change their eating diets eventhough they are starving and a plate of fishes was served in front of them." Mr giraffe emphasised.

"I see. Thanks for forcing me to choose a fish, by the way." the boy smiled and held his fish high in the air.

"No thanks. Keep the bones as a souvenir if you want. " Mr giraffe waved his hand and flew upside down. Within a blink of eyes, he disappeared behind the cluster of clouds far above the mountain.

3 Poems On Roses

One Perfect Rose by Dorothy Parker

A single flow'r he sent me, since we met. All tenderly his messenger he chose; Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet One perfect rose. I knew the language of the floweret; 'My fragile leaves,' it said, 'his heart enclose.' Love long has taken for his amulet One perfect rose. Why is it no one ever sent me yet One perfect limousine, do you suppose? Ah no, it's always just my luck to get One perfect rose. The Sick Rose by William Blake O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm That flies in the night, In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy? The Rose Family by Robert Frost The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple's a rose, And the pear is, and so's The plum, I suppose. The dear only knows What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose - But were always a rose.

Love Story Taylor Swift meets Viva La Vida Coldplay

Johnnie On The Rock. Stirred, not shaked.

遇见池塘边的女生

听说天气晴朗的时候，云群总是如纯白的棉花团般被胶卷在蔚蓝的天空上。挂上一两只老气横秋的乌鸦与他们招牌式的呱呱，再点缀上几沾墨斑似的气氛，景象就铺在读者的眼前。你踢着砖块路上的碎石，半拖半走地前进。可能天气牵引情绪这句话是对的，你想。看一看掌上交错的掌纹，你张开又握紧，观察纹线伸缩的变化。也许天气的预告是正确的，你握紧。

×××

你静静地尝了尝玻璃杯里的糖水，三分满，微冷。水珠们累积在杯底的边缘，结合，占领了桌面的一小圈。她抬起头，望了望你，优雅但不带造作地舀起了一口饭。太阳还在播种，但已不如早上客气了。你看了看手表，离下个课程尚远。于是，你礼貌性的打了个招呼，挥一挥手。她客气地回应了个微笑。你像站在台上背稿的小学生，问了几道无关痛痒的问题，她也沾了沾，仿佛蜻蜓点水般轻巧。她说她比较喜欢Gardenia 的白面包，带点新上架的香味，两片刚好。你牵起嘴角，笑一笑，再喝一口润湿你的嘴唇。细细观察，眼眶微下垂，想必睡魔践踏留下的痕迹。你点了点头，7天幸苦了，你说。她无奈的摇了摇头，是肯定，也或许是否定。生病了，没办法习惯不来，她摇头。喝多点水啊，你仿佛着急了，关切地问。她抬头，正视你的脸，杏仁般的双眼清澈。你反射性地躲避她的眼神，她眼里的投影好像闪了闪。你无助，情感如决堤般狂泻而出；愤怒，抛弃，喜悦，悲哀，空白...编积成模糊的密网，名叫混乱的方向。手里握着的空气，放开了。你调整了脸上的面具，肯定地说：你好，很高兴见到你。齿轮依循轮齿的轨道向前迈进。

Movie Watching: The Hedgedog By Mona Achache

This hits the bulleye in my heart.(or nearly, perhaps)I used to dream of the combination between tenderness of French Art sensitivity and Japanese neat manipulation, and this movie goes beyond my expectation.

Elegance of portraiting Muriel Barbery's bestseller The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Paloma is a 11 years old girl with artistic and cultural background who's determined to commit suicide at her 12 years-old birthday. Equipped with her father's old camcorder, she decided to film down her surrounding and provided some narrating why she want to get out this "fishbowl". She mentioned that the world is a huge fishbowl with adults banging around their head in the fishbowl and she gave some in-depth explanation(or assumed, childish to an adult) of the incidents around her. She tried to find a reason to proof that this world she is living in is degrading her dignity and the "adults" chasing on wealth,political position(her father is a politician), satisfaction of their taste buds(even ignored the alarm of their neighbours' death due to healthy problems )and ended their life with the fear of death is a shame to her. She even drew a emotion calender on her bedroom's wall(Omg, her drawings are beautiful!) to countdown her death. She stole and stockpiled her mother's tranquilizers and crushed them so that she can die without pain by consuming those(lol, she even tried it on her goldfish). She pinpointed the adults' blindspot of extravagance and mask to hide their pea-brain give us(we the audience) some space to think about that(Her mother's concern on plants more than her daughter and who is addicted to Freudian analysis, tranquilizers, and champagne, her parent's guest who knows little about "go" but describes the function behind it wrongly etc.)

Then the camera switched. Widower Monsieur Ozu moved into a flat besides her house and converted it into a Japanese oasis with Zen-ism and aesthetic calm( I love his house! Even the toiletbowl will sings Mozart's when you sit down! OMG I love your house!)Meanwhile, Madame Michel is in charge of the janitor post in the luxury 5-unit Parisian apartment. (their elevator! So sophisticated!)When the gentleman Monsieur Ozu met Madame Michel, he correctly assumed that she is a "hedgedog with hostile spikes outside but terribly elegant inside. " He presented a 2-volume "Anna Karenina" by Leo Tolstoy(name of Madame Michel's cat) then invited her for a dinner (which Madame Michel had to seek help from her friend to get a dress and a haircut as she never bother about her outfit for a long time), followed by sharing an old Japanese film together.

Back to Paloma, she is clever to unfold Madame Michel's spiky shell and included her in the filming as well. She said to Madame Michel,"you found a perfect hiding place" by pointing towards the door when thousands of books were piled behind it.It's Madame Michel's Reading room. She draws a card for her together with her Reading Room with her own imagination(and that is LOVElY). Paloma admires her because she can spend hours in her backroom reading books, while appeared as a grumpy old creature outside that people don't even see and bother about her. The downhill of the story crushed viewer's fairytale by ending Madame Michel's life in a car accident when she tried to help a drunken man away from the street. Only then, Paloma realised the meaning behind "death". "Death" is not one's feeling or ending of one's life only, but the impact on his or her relationship circle around him/her.

I recommended viewers to watch this movie for a few times as this is a rare masterpiece. As i mentioned, French director has an poetic sense in conducting flipping landscapes and body languages.

Rating: 9.0/10.0

Glee - I Dreamed a Dream

(Clap clap)