all that live must die.

I am tired. Exhausted. And I'm also suffering from a severe case of flu. My Biology tuition teacher once said that everytime you get a flu, it's a different kind of antigen that is attacking your immune system. So, tell me, how many antigens had attacked me? How many more left? Or am I simply, not immune to them and that the same antigens have been attacking me over and over and over again?

How many more because I am tired of feeling helpless. I am tired of coughing and sneezing. I am just tired, in general.

This is meaningless. Everything is meaningless. Antigens attacking me. My, learning of the antigens attacking me, the process of it, the body's response to it but yet I cannot do anything to prevent or hasten the process. I just lay there, waiting for something that never comes. A cure for forever. What is the point of everything then? What is the point of learning when I can't change anything? I learnt that pills destroy you, it destroys your liver but yet whenever we get sick we pop a pill. I ate five Panadols and two Clarinase today but I still feel like chugging the whole bar. It still wouldn't help and it will kill me instead if I ingest everything.

So, how do I survive? How do I save myself without killing myself? This is meaningless when all that live must die.What is the point of lengthening a few years of our lifespan when we do so little to repent? When we don't even seek for atonement? What's the point of wishing for a healthy and long life when we do nothing productive of it?

I tell myself everyday, this too shall pass but that's not true. Nothing passes. Everything just ends up lingering over you.

Current location: Somewhere I don't belong
Current mood: -
Current music: Untitled- Diandra Arjunaidi

ask and you shall receive.

Hello, folks. So, I haven't been blogging for a while. The busy life of a sleepless seventeen sixteen year old. HAH! NOT! It's just that inspiration comes in the night- time and I have lost the night- time computer privileges, whoopee!

Okay, so, life in the last year of school wasn't as I had expected. Class is boring. Especially, when you're stuck in a class where everyone is absurdly nice and smart (probably eat brains for lunch, those people) and you're the only one who comes late to school, doesn't pass up books and skips class. So, where do I fit in? I can't even cheat anymore... and maybe you don't have to know that. Hahahaha.

Last year, I thought my class sucked. This year, I think my new class sucks. Question is, which one sucks more? As per usual to people who dislike change, old is better than new but to me, everything has its pros and cons. So, 4C or 5A? The answer is I prefer 4C. Less pressure, more 'kyo- kyo'.

WHAT THE FUDGE IS 'KYO- KYO'?

Okay, so, last year, my class is notorious for half of the class skipping Biology lab sessions with Puan Latiffah. One day, all of us were caught by the discipline teacher, En. Selva. He's not a scary guy or anything but obviously, a punishment will be bequeathed upon us. Anyways, the ones who skipped were a bunch of Chinese (not to be racist or anything but they were Chinese) and Nina, Adilah, Rash and I. So, comes in En. Selva who went on and on about the Chinese student whom he dubbed 'The Kuey Tiaw Gang'.

"You ah, Kuey Tiaw Gang can kyo- kyo (chatter) until Valentine's Day next year. Kyo- kyo away..." Then, he noticed us. Rash took off in a split second. "Why are you girls here?" he asked. Adilah said that we were confused and thought class was upstairs because half the class was upstairs. True enough... Never mind that half the Kuey Tiaw gang wasn't even in my class.

So, Kuey Tiaw Gang > A++ students. I kyo- kyo a lot. I sing in the class a lot. I like to cause mental trauma to Qin Hui a lot (not to be revealed what I did to him. Hahahaha). I like to bake a million red velvet cupcakes and stuff my face with it in class. I miss eating lasagna with the girls in class. Hanging out at the back with the gang.

It's entering March and I barely speak. I sleep and I do delayed homeworks. I eat in class alone. Boring manufactured bread. I don't even feel like I'm contributing anything to my class (last year, decorations were a blast and Alex Turner was somewhere in there). I became a wallflower, the boring kind. Not the holla- I got a big smile- I looove nachos- I love Red Bull- and I'm high 90% of the time.

Thing is, my new class, most of them are extroverts who already know each other. I'm like 'hi, I'm from 4C, you may mistake me as Farah, call me Izyan and ignore me.' It doesn't help that time drags on like it was carrying a 500 tonnes load. Life is boring and uninspiring. Someone make it December already. I just want everything to end so I can actually have time for myself which I barely have now.

I haven't even finished reading the books I got last month. Usually, it took me a week to end one. I haven't written anything in the past month, discover any fresh music, went to the cinema to catch a film, been to anything. And I'm probably going to miss The Pains of Being Pure at Heart show at KLPac this weekend regardless whether I win the tickets or not. Someone just save me already. I asked for them to come yet I probably can't go. Ask and you shall receive, right?

Current location: popteevee.net (That Effing Show, woohoo! It's been a while, I miss you, baby)

Current mood: further from happy than I expected

Current music: Counter Productive- The Great Metropolitan Expressway

hang out with the stars and the big moon

So, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately (and yes, I spare no time for petty hellos). What defines independent music? Or indie as those young young people call it. Indie music is oh- so common and famous these days but are they indie? Is indie now a genre? IS INDIE FROM INDIA? Okay, that wasn't funny...

But anyway, way way back when I used to listen to this so called "indie" genre, they were ultimately independent. Running along without a proper label or management. Self funding their releases. Independent financially, hence the coined term, indie. So, I was listening to indie. 5 YEARS AGO.

I was on Facebook the other day and I saw a post, "Any good indie music recommendations?" A girl told him to listen to Vampire Weekend's Giving Up The Gun. VAMPIRE WEEKEND IS INDIE NOW?! Blame Wikipedia. Blame Allmusic. Sure. After all, Vampire Weekend is still under XL (independent music label in the UK, quite massive, they spawned Adele!) in the UK.

All those so called indie musicians are now mainstream regardless whether the masses want to acknowledge the fact or not. They're all signed to huge labels like Virgin, Mercury or little tiny labels (to mask their mainstreamness) that are a part of a huge corporate operation. So how now brown cow? All you "cool hipsters" who listen to Foster the People. They're not indie... Alternative? Sure! Indie? Hell no.

And then, there's the whole Hipster Issue. Malaysians vs. the World. Malaysian hipsters are so weird and the least cool of the world's hipsters. People regard those Supra wearing, DSLR slinging teens loitering in Bukit Bintang hipsters. What?! While the rest of the world has pretty blue- blond girls with tribal printed tank tops and cute boys in TOMS, slinging analogue Leicas .

Click the illustration! Read the post!

Okay, so I admit, I think they're cute and I kind of adore them but hey, I'm more hippie than hipster. I want to camp in a teepee during Coachella or Leeds Festival. I want to drink organic green tea while inhaling the scent of vanilla incense sticks. And no it's not the same as drinking organic coffee.

Current location: in a teepee during Coachella with Ezra Koenig

Current mood: happeyh

Current music: Dilettante- St. Vincent

Come to think of it, Johann just called me hipster versi pencinta jejaka Amerika jiwang yang berjambang lebat i.e. Bon Iver, Iron and Wine. His new mutant hipster creation. Hahahahaha.

they were kids that i once knew

I turned sixteen a few days ago. A few days more and it will be 2012. I don't think it ever occurred to me when I was a kid that I was ever going to be sixteen and mature yet here I am, both sixteen and mature. I'd never thought that I would grow up this way. Cynic, sarcastic, judgmental.

You like Justin Bieber and One Direction? Ew.

You've never watched (500) Days of Summer? Hi, we're not friends.

You've never read Harry Potter? I don't know you.

This is me, right now. To be honest, I can't change it. I can't change the fact that I like people who don't only care how good a male singer's hair is (and let's be honest, One Direction = EW). That I appreciate taste in film (if you like Alvin and the Chipmunks and Transformers, chances are I'm already doubting our friendship). That I like readers. You don't read, I'm already thinking that you're stupid.

And I feel guilty. Because I have those people as friends. I often find myself thinking when I see their Facebook statuses or blogposts, how in the world am I even friends with them? It's like Blair and Serena in Gossip Girl. Blair is incredibly smart with actual interests while Serena's interests are flirting. But Blair has Dan who appreciates the same things that she likes. While I have no one.



No one who is willing to sit with me and talk to me about books and film and music. No one who is willing to go see a small show of a little- known band. No one who is willing to listen to that little- known musician (unless of course, they're on next month's MTV Push. Even then, the fact that I wanted anyone to listen to them is already obsolete). No one who is willing to watch a film that doesn't involve robots or famous Hollywood actors. No one who is willing to read.

While having these interests exclusive to myself, company is nice too. Someone who gets it.

Someone who tells me "Hey Eizza, have you read Langit Vanila? Here's a copy."


Someone who sends me a Jens Lekman song and goes "Heard this yet? It's so cool and thought you might like it."
Jens Lekman - An Argument with Myself by $EDPMC Vincent

Someone who asks me out to watch movies that I would never be able to watch with anyone else. Someone who says "Let's watch Melancholia."


Only that. Simple enough, no?

Current location: The Cave (like the Mumford and Sons song)
Current mood: pretty lonely
Current music: I Must Belong Somewhere- Bright Eyes

p/s Recommendation of the day would be Jens Lekman's Waiting for Kirsten. The song is literally about him and his friend, Joel stalking Kirsten Dunst while she was in Gothenburg filming Melancholia. Too cool to be true.

behind the craze, there is a pretty sunset

She can paint a lovely picture but this picture has a twist. Her paintbrush is a razor and her canvas is her wrist. She paints her pretty picture in a color that’s blood red. While using her sharp paintbrush, she ends up finally dead. Her pretty pictures fading quite slowly on her arm. The blood is not racing through her. She can no longer do harm. She painted her pretty picture but her picture had a twist. You see, her mind was the razor and her heart was just her wrist.

- Anonymous

No, I am not suicidal. I just find it beautiful. Okay, maybe I am a bit sad. That's it though.

Current location: Arctic (air- conditioning, you know?)
Current mood: amused
Current music: O Children- Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds