I miss bruneian humour...
...I bet this was what the makciks and pakciks were muttering under their breath as I sped past.
Warning: Heavy Stuff Ahead.
Two distant relatives of mine are currently being hospitalised, and I honestly admit I haven't gone to visit either one of them. No, I'm not heartless. I just find hospital visits very difficult to deal with, especially if the patients are diagnosed with incurable illnesses.
How do you deal with it? I can't; it makes me cry. I can't stand the sight of their helpless bodies having long trasparent wires and sharp needles jutting out of their skin, which are connected to various odd contraptions which help keep them alive. They're normally asleep from the anaesthetics given to help reduce the excruciating pain of the disease, the wounds from surgery, and the action of drugs combined. Sometimes they have oxygen masks on their faces, and that's even more painful to see. You can hear them struggling to breathe, and you can observe their chest rise and fall slowly, fearing that it would suddenly stop.
I prefer them asleep, because once they wake, the dams break; I cry. Visitors pretend to be cheerful around The Patient, asking how The Patient is feeling, telling The Patient what's going on in the world beyond the white hospital walls... it seems like a happy scene. But if you look into the eyes of The Patient, you can see that The Patient's smile does not quite reach the eyes. They are often a dull, gray colour, lacking life, longing life. You can see that the disease has drained all the joy and sparkle the eyes had, and flooded them with pain and torture. Yet The Patient pretends that s/he feels better, and wishes the visitors to remember him/her in their prayers. The Patient says this with all his/her strength, and once the short conversation is over and the visitors are asked to leave, The Patient retreats to dreamland, away from the pain of being awake, not knowing if s/he will witness tomorrow or not.
What's worse is if the doctor concludes that there is no more hope for The Patient, and that The Patient may go home to die. What should the family do now? It's easy for others to say that the family should accept whatever happens, and pray to God for some sort of miracle, but can they honestly do that? Even the tough, full-grown sons would cry, and the once jet-setting daughters would gather around The Patient's deathbed, leaving all their diamonds and mansions behind, hugging the family members tight and whispering in The Patient's ear how much they loved him/her. Family is the only thing that matters at this stage.
Nope, I really can't cope with that.
How do you deal with it? I can't; it makes me cry. I can't stand the sight of their helpless bodies having long trasparent wires and sharp needles jutting out of their skin, which are connected to various odd contraptions which help keep them alive. They're normally asleep from the anaesthetics given to help reduce the excruciating pain of the disease, the wounds from surgery, and the action of drugs combined. Sometimes they have oxygen masks on their faces, and that's even more painful to see. You can hear them struggling to breathe, and you can observe their chest rise and fall slowly, fearing that it would suddenly stop.
I prefer them asleep, because once they wake, the dams break; I cry. Visitors pretend to be cheerful around The Patient, asking how The Patient is feeling, telling The Patient what's going on in the world beyond the white hospital walls... it seems like a happy scene. But if you look into the eyes of The Patient, you can see that The Patient's smile does not quite reach the eyes. They are often a dull, gray colour, lacking life, longing life. You can see that the disease has drained all the joy and sparkle the eyes had, and flooded them with pain and torture. Yet The Patient pretends that s/he feels better, and wishes the visitors to remember him/her in their prayers. The Patient says this with all his/her strength, and once the short conversation is over and the visitors are asked to leave, The Patient retreats to dreamland, away from the pain of being awake, not knowing if s/he will witness tomorrow or not.
What's worse is if the doctor concludes that there is no more hope for The Patient, and that The Patient may go home to die. What should the family do now? It's easy for others to say that the family should accept whatever happens, and pray to God for some sort of miracle, but can they honestly do that? Even the tough, full-grown sons would cry, and the once jet-setting daughters would gather around The Patient's deathbed, leaving all their diamonds and mansions behind, hugging the family members tight and whispering in The Patient's ear how much they loved him/her. Family is the only thing that matters at this stage.
Nope, I really can't cope with that.
Pasal mua mu bida...
Living in the shallow, materialistic and superficial world we live in now it's a wonder how many people survive (barely...) each day. Of course life would be a breeze if you were a tall, slender young lady with double Ds and a stunning face; or perhaps a well-built footballer with a strong jaw and killer smile. But how many people look like greek Gods and Godesses anyway?
For mere mortals like me you have to work for it. Study hard to get good grades. Put in massive effort to look good and buff up my personality to get people's attention. Heaven sent girls who look like angels would get everything they want just by flashing a smile.
Don't believe me?
Picture this, imagine you're working as a sale's assistant in a store and two people walk in simultaneously. One of them looks hot and the other is bald and fat, which one will you be compelled to attend to? If you say, the hot one then point made. If you say the fat one, I say bullshit lah you~
The truth of the matter is, looks do matter and pretty soon all the pretty people will rule the world as they have everyone else wrapped around their manicured finger. I'm gonna stop ranting now *read the tittle*
For mere mortals like me you have to work for it. Study hard to get good grades. Put in massive effort to look good and buff up my personality to get people's attention. Heaven sent girls who look like angels would get everything they want just by flashing a smile.
Don't believe me?
Picture this, imagine you're working as a sale's assistant in a store and two people walk in simultaneously. One of them looks hot and the other is bald and fat, which one will you be compelled to attend to? If you say, the hot one then point made. If you say the fat one, I say bullshit lah you~
The truth of the matter is, looks do matter and pretty soon all the pretty people will rule the world as they have everyone else wrapped around their manicured finger. I'm gonna stop ranting now *read the tittle*
The anti anti-poklen
Nis wrote one on this earlier on so I'd just like to add on.
Aight, I know we've been all.. "Hahaha bida jua orang poklen ani eh. Cawir... " But never in a million years would I consider myself to be an anti-poklen. Sure when we see them shuffling siring sungai we chuckle heartily to ourselves and we make fun of how they have all the time in the world 2 TeXt LyK DiZ BeB~
However, after months of being away from The land of unexpected treasures I kinda started to miss them boys in baggy spitfire T-shirts with their jeans so low it might as well be on their ankles. I miss walking around at The Mall and encountering a group of boys with their 'Buuuiiii's and 'Mateee pacah~' echoing against the walls putting on their karas face.
Quite frankly, they're all just like you and me. Take away the gerai gadong clothes, the bicycle parts blingage and remove the home made piercings and you've got a regular teen who just wants to have fun. Life in Brunei without these poklens would be horrendous. Brunei would not be what it is now and all of us would definitely not be who we have grown to be today.
So stop dissing biyotches.
Poklens are people too <3
Aight, I know we've been all.. "Hahaha bida jua orang poklen ani eh. Cawir... " But never in a million years would I consider myself to be an anti-poklen. Sure when we see them shuffling siring sungai we chuckle heartily to ourselves and we make fun of how they have all the time in the world 2 TeXt LyK DiZ BeB~
However, after months of being away from The land of unexpected treasures I kinda started to miss them boys in baggy spitfire T-shirts with their jeans so low it might as well be on their ankles. I miss walking around at The Mall and encountering a group of boys with their 'Buuuiiii's and 'Mateee pacah~' echoing against the walls putting on their karas face.
Quite frankly, they're all just like you and me. Take away the gerai gadong clothes, the bicycle parts blingage and remove the home made piercings and you've got a regular teen who just wants to have fun. Life in Brunei without these poklens would be horrendous. Brunei would not be what it is now and all of us would definitely not be who we have grown to be today.
So stop dissing biyotches.
Poklens are people too <3
The first ever kali
I have an exam tomorrow and I haven't studied shit for that. I know I should study for that but something caught my eye this morning. I've been thinking a great deal about it. Even during classes and everyone knows how blasphemous that is for me because well. It's me, Nis. So anyway.
I'm not sure how to say it as, I don't know the word, politely as possible? Maybe I'm just deprived of poklen contacts but what's up with the major poklen hate? I mean, sure, we do make fun of them more than often right here but I don't think we ever got as far as HATING them.
This may seem like a post written with specific people in mind and I may have 455 people (It increases by the second. How exciting.) hating me after this but I have to do this.
Anti-poklens.
They go "Oh my God. I hate poklens. I hope they catch wabak selesma khinzir and DIE." Then a few minutes later (or before), they'll say, "What is a poklen really?"
A lot of people have tried to define the word "poklen" but failed.
Poklens are annoying, poklens can't type, poklens listen to radios, poklens dress cawer and/or lanji, poklens suka shuffle, poklens prefer Friendster over Facebook, poklens punya English bida, poklens this, poklens that. Truth is, no one can really say what is a poklen and where poklen comes from.
Then how can you say you hate poklens?
You say that poklens think they're oh-so-cool. Do you think you're cool for hating something that no one really knows what it means? Are you just jumping the bandwagon?
For all we know, I could be a poklen. I listen to the radio. She could be a poklen. She dresses lanji-ly. He could be a poklen. He knows how to shuffle. You could be a poklen. You go to the mall often. We could be poklens. We think we know what poklens do and say. There's a little bit of poklen-ism in everyone of us.
It is a harsh reality to face but...anti-poklens. YOU are the POKLENS.
If you reject the above views because you KNOW what a poklen is and think what I just said is bullocks, I have another one. Try imagining a life without poklens. How is it? Idyllic? Stress-free?
You may think it is. But really think about it. Our lives will basically remain the same or turn for the worse.
We exist because poklens exist. Without poklens, we have no source of entertainment. Who are we going to mock? Retarded kids? That's just mean. At least with poklens being a complex issue in terms of its definition, we're not directly doing any harm to anyone. Nothing that I am aware of anyway.
Each country has their own little society that is like the kid in the every family that people try to ignore because s/he shoves crayons in his/her nose. It's part of life. But come on. What other country can say they have their own little community of spitfire-wearing individuals who like to shuffle and say "yaw"?
Do people tYp!Ng L!k3 D!$ really annoy you? Stop talking to poklens on MSN. Or stop going on MSN. Or Yahoo.
Does the word "Buiii" really bother you? Think of it as the malay version of "man" or "dude". Because it really is. How come people can say "dude" or "man" but not "bui"?
You can call me si taie (or even a poklen) for saying the things I've said. I know I'm at least a little bit right. Give me evidence to show that what I've said is wrong, I'll believe anything you say.
Sorry this whole post is all jumbled up. I had to leave it for some time and kind of forgot what the whole point was of the sentence was. Will recheck when I can and try to make more sense. ALSO. Esok exam.
I'm not sure how to say it as, I don't know the word, politely as possible? Maybe I'm just deprived of poklen contacts but what's up with the major poklen hate? I mean, sure, we do make fun of them more than often right here but I don't think we ever got as far as HATING them.
This may seem like a post written with specific people in mind and I may have 455 people (It increases by the second. How exciting.) hating me after this but I have to do this.
Anti-poklens.
They go "Oh my God. I hate poklens. I hope they catch wabak selesma khinzir and DIE." Then a few minutes later (or before), they'll say, "What is a poklen really?"
A lot of people have tried to define the word "poklen" but failed.
Poklens are annoying, poklens can't type, poklens listen to radios, poklens dress cawer and/or lanji, poklens suka shuffle, poklens prefer Friendster over Facebook, poklens punya English bida, poklens this, poklens that. Truth is, no one can really say what is a poklen and where poklen comes from.
Then how can you say you hate poklens?
You say that poklens think they're oh-so-cool. Do you think you're cool for hating something that no one really knows what it means? Are you just jumping the bandwagon?
For all we know, I could be a poklen. I listen to the radio. She could be a poklen. She dresses lanji-ly. He could be a poklen. He knows how to shuffle. You could be a poklen. You go to the mall often. We could be poklens. We think we know what poklens do and say. There's a little bit of poklen-ism in everyone of us.
It is a harsh reality to face but...anti-poklens. YOU are the POKLENS.
If you reject the above views because you KNOW what a poklen is and think what I just said is bullocks, I have another one. Try imagining a life without poklens. How is it? Idyllic? Stress-free?
You may think it is. But really think about it. Our lives will basically remain the same or turn for the worse.
We exist because poklens exist. Without poklens, we have no source of entertainment. Who are we going to mock? Retarded kids? That's just mean. At least with poklens being a complex issue in terms of its definition, we're not directly doing any harm to anyone. Nothing that I am aware of anyway.
Each country has their own little society that is like the kid in the every family that people try to ignore because s/he shoves crayons in his/her nose. It's part of life. But come on. What other country can say they have their own little community of spitfire-wearing individuals who like to shuffle and say "yaw"?
Do people tYp!Ng L!k3 D!$ really annoy you? Stop talking to poklens on MSN. Or stop going on MSN. Or Yahoo.
Does the word "Buiii" really bother you? Think of it as the malay version of "man" or "dude". Because it really is. How come people can say "dude" or "man" but not "bui"?
You can call me si taie (or even a poklen) for saying the things I've said. I know I'm at least a little bit right. Give me evidence to show that what I've said is wrong, I'll believe anything you say.
what
How nice. I had a dream where I had a heated argument about Twisties with some dude and someone licked my uniform.
It was terrifying.
...and...I forgot what this was supposed be all about. uh. I like kamu punya poems.
Oh right. I want to know kenapa orang google "baju kurung" and arrive here? Rather scary. Have I mentioned this before? I'm sorry if I have.
Going now. English ku mikin ancur. Good luck with kamu semua punya exam.
It was terrifying.
...and...I forgot what this was supposed be all about. uh. I like kamu punya poems.
Oh right. I want to know kenapa orang google "baju kurung" and arrive here? Rather scary. Have I mentioned this before? I'm sorry if I have.
Going now. English ku mikin ancur. Good luck with kamu semua punya exam.
Nah ko Wan. Pasal kau buat aku guilty.
Well, inda pulang.
I had this major weird dream the other night. I was in a chem tuition class even though I'm not a chem student; I was just there pasal aku ho and aku suka rakat sama boyfriendku who happened to be this cina tagap tinggi lampai yang aku nampak bellybuttonnya saja.
Skali kan.
Ada announcement arah PA system menyuruh aku naik ke atas to 'the balcony'. Then I was like, "INDAKUMAU. AKU MAU SAMA BOYFRIENDKU CINA!" Tapi kana pajal so I had to go jua. Turns out, this certain prince of Brunei mau aku dangani ia belajar, so I agreed lah, pasal aku pussy kan say no to a royalty member like a typical Bruneian. I won't say siapa that prince pasal karang ada tia KDN bunuh aku.
We got close in that dream. He was younger than me so he looked up to me like a sister. Ia baiikkkkk brabis dalam mimpiku, but he was an asshole to other people. Arah ku saja ia baik (prasan much?). Then kami jadi macam siblings. Sampai aku introduce ia arah my friends jua, and Aisah came to hang out at the istana with me.
But then ada this scene with Aisah being a slut pasal cousinnya ada. macam apakan? She wore panties and a corset. saja.
The dream ends with me being in a romantic relationship with the prince. Ada x-rated scenes jua. Seronok besar.
But it's disgusting how we were 'siblings' first then 'lovers'. That count as incest?
Anyway, the true aim behind this post is that I wrote a poem inspired by that dream. Jangan plagiarise ah. Don't be a copypussy.
BAHAGIA KO WAN? apeh, angst :P
I had this major weird dream the other night. I was in a chem tuition class even though I'm not a chem student; I was just there pasal aku ho and aku suka rakat sama boyfriendku who happened to be this cina tagap tinggi lampai yang aku nampak bellybuttonnya saja.
Skali kan.
Ada announcement arah PA system menyuruh aku naik ke atas to 'the balcony'. Then I was like, "INDAKUMAU. AKU MAU SAMA BOYFRIENDKU CINA!" Tapi kana pajal so I had to go jua. Turns out, this certain prince of Brunei mau aku dangani ia belajar, so I agreed lah, pasal aku pussy kan say no to a royalty member like a typical Bruneian. I won't say siapa that prince pasal karang ada tia KDN bunuh aku.
We got close in that dream. He was younger than me so he looked up to me like a sister. Ia baiikkkkk brabis dalam mimpiku, but he was an asshole to other people. Arah ku saja ia baik (prasan much?). Then kami jadi macam siblings. Sampai aku introduce ia arah my friends jua, and Aisah came to hang out at the istana with me.
But then ada this scene with Aisah being a slut pasal cousinnya ada. macam apakan? She wore panties and a corset. saja.
The dream ends with me being in a romantic relationship with the prince. Ada x-rated scenes jua. Seronok besar.
But it's disgusting how we were 'siblings' first then 'lovers'. That count as incest?
Anyway, the true aim behind this post is that I wrote a poem inspired by that dream. Jangan plagiarise ah. Don't be a copypussy.
Romeo and Rebecca
There was this legend about a girl,
She had a secret unknown to the world,
She was madly in love with a fine fellow,
Her name was Rebecca and Adam was her Romeo.
Rebecca’s the least person you’d expect,
To be with Adam; someone so perfect,
Because she’s kind of awkward, and a whole lot strange,
Whereas Adam was flawless; nothing could be changed.
However, they were madly in love,
A feeling so passionate, it shook the heavens above,
Just one look into each other’s eyes,
Would send them flying beyond the skies.
You may ask why their romance is kept a secret,
The thing is, Adam’s a prince, so you better zip it,
He’s a real prince of royal descent,
But Rebecca’s just a loser, someone non-existent.
The king wouldn’t like it, neither would the queen,
So they had to meet in secret, without being seen,
They would meet at night, in the strangest places,
Like somewhere in the woods, without familiar faces.
Rebecca’s always being laughed at when she’s in school,
Adam’s the opposite; he’s known for being cool,
He’s a real jerk though, but only to others,
Rebecca, he’ll treat like a goddess.
Though he’s an asshole, people bow at his feet,
Just because he’s a prince, his orders they heed,
With Rebecca, he’ll be completely different,
He’ll be nice and sweet, and never petulant.
One day, Rebecca’s bullying got a bit too much,
Her clothes were torn off and her private parts touched,
Everyone just watched, cheering and laughing,
Then they left her there, limp and crying.
That night, Adam consoled her,
And asked her to be with him forever,
Rebecca was ecstatic, and jumped jubilantly,
She answered ‘yes’ almost immediately.
The next day, Rebecca’s mother got the shock of her life,
Because she found Rebecca, Adam’s new wife,
Motionless and cold, lying on the bed,
It was far too late; Rebecca was dead.
She overdosed from sleeping pills,
It surely wasn’t against her will,
Prince Adam wanted Rebecca forever, so it’s seems,
But ‘Romeo and Rebecca’ was just a delusional dream.
There was this legend about a girl,
She had a secret unknown to the world,
She was madly in love with a fine fellow,
Her name was Rebecca and Adam was her Romeo.
Rebecca’s the least person you’d expect,
To be with Adam; someone so perfect,
Because she’s kind of awkward, and a whole lot strange,
Whereas Adam was flawless; nothing could be changed.
However, they were madly in love,
A feeling so passionate, it shook the heavens above,
Just one look into each other’s eyes,
Would send them flying beyond the skies.
You may ask why their romance is kept a secret,
The thing is, Adam’s a prince, so you better zip it,
He’s a real prince of royal descent,
But Rebecca’s just a loser, someone non-existent.
The king wouldn’t like it, neither would the queen,
So they had to meet in secret, without being seen,
They would meet at night, in the strangest places,
Like somewhere in the woods, without familiar faces.
Rebecca’s always being laughed at when she’s in school,
Adam’s the opposite; he’s known for being cool,
He’s a real jerk though, but only to others,
Rebecca, he’ll treat like a goddess.
Though he’s an asshole, people bow at his feet,
Just because he’s a prince, his orders they heed,
With Rebecca, he’ll be completely different,
He’ll be nice and sweet, and never petulant.
One day, Rebecca’s bullying got a bit too much,
Her clothes were torn off and her private parts touched,
Everyone just watched, cheering and laughing,
Then they left her there, limp and crying.
That night, Adam consoled her,
And asked her to be with him forever,
Rebecca was ecstatic, and jumped jubilantly,
She answered ‘yes’ almost immediately.
The next day, Rebecca’s mother got the shock of her life,
Because she found Rebecca, Adam’s new wife,
Motionless and cold, lying on the bed,
It was far too late; Rebecca was dead.
She overdosed from sleeping pills,
It surely wasn’t against her will,
Prince Adam wanted Rebecca forever, so it’s seems,
But ‘Romeo and Rebecca’ was just a delusional dream.
BAHAGIA KO WAN? apeh, angst :P
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Mari main kira-kira :)