daily writing: changed at the last minute.

So many things change at the last minute these days. Nothing goes according to plan, or everything does, and the last crucial part of the plan crumbles and then shit flies.

I was going to write about how frustrated I am in putting my book together. Many people telling me to do different things. "If you do this you'll get hired"

This is your golden egg, sure-fire plan, Ace in the hole, trump card.

Stupidly, I listened to all of them and did what I was told.

What's this eh? a book should only have print ads, visual, headline copy?
By Joves.
What else?
No body copy, no long copy?
Holy crap man.
Oh and forget TV-scripts and Radio scripts too. They're bad news.
Why?
I don't know.
Maybe creatives these days are too busy to take time to read your pathetic, badly written little script, maybe it's just a pre-conception that juniours can't ever do anything well other than print.

I don't know.

Nah this won't work, no link with the product.
That's WAY too safe man.
"Unleash your creativity!"(seriously, I was told this)
Fact is, mate, Creative Directors want to be shocked.
Let's give them something funny, witty, and FUCK the product, selling point, and target audience while we're at it man.
We're fucking Juniors.
Who gives a shit?

Everyone's telling you something else, something different.

Sometimes you find someone who makes sense.

I guess this is kind of a thank you letter to Dave Trott for putting up this post.

For whatever reason, the man blogs every day. I suspect it's something to do with keeping himself sharp and on edge. If that entertains people as well, icing on the cake.

My head still feels like it's about to explode, I'm going to do something about it.

daily writing: spill.com

The thing about video reviews is they're rather hard to find. Video movie reviews are doubly so, but they do a good job at striking a balance between entertainment and journalism. Whenever they're done right that is.

The Spill crew are Korey, Cyrus, Leon and another white dude whose name I can't spell. Carlyle or something according to spell-check. Sounds like Kal-El to me. Whatever.

4 dudes, 2 white 2 black sitting around talking about movies may not sound like much, but the Spill crew bring a fresh take to the tables that make most of their reviews worth a watch, especially if you've seen the films. It's a great balance of personality.

All four of the reviewers bring a different point of view, and the good thing about it is you never feel like one guy is dominating the

Each review is about 4-5 minutes long and much like the ebert and siskel reviews of old, they spend the first half of the review setting things up. While they may not be as insightful or informative as some other written reviews out there, the kitchen table discussion, impromptu feel that these guys exude generally make most of their reviews a good watch. They laugh in the middle of reviews, crack superman jokes, sex jokes and all sorts of shenanigans before the review takes a serious turns and they begin discussing the meat of the film. Craft, acting, character development and so on. Granted, a four minute video holds nothing when it comes to a well written article, but they do a good job on giving you a taste of what they movie is about and if it's worth your time and money.

They pretty much follow the Ebert style of reviewing where each movie is graded differently based on what kind of genre, expectations and target audience the film has. Each film generally receives a fair review but they never hesitate to call a turd a turd.

Granted, I don't really agree with all the opinions these guys have, and it may not have the big journalistic names as other reviews, but if it's anything they have in abundance is passion and wit. And that, in my opinion, is worth plenty.

daily writing: movies

Watched dark knight, thank you for smoking, and fargo.

Awesome, great, good. In that order. Also watched a bunch of movie reviews.

And now time to do more ads.

Unrequited Summer Love: the cutest thing ever.

no really.

daily writing

Guiness say: "Good things come to those who wait."

Confucius say: "old one no go, new one not come."

me? I just say "fuck" alot.

daily writing: End of an era.

Say what you will about his turtleneck-wearing ass, there's no denying the impact Steve Jobs has had on Apple, and conversely the entire consumer electronics industry.

Now that he's retiring from his position as annual MacWorld keynote presenter, maclife.com has put up a collection of "greatest stevenote moments."

It's an interesting post and if you've just been an Apple user and fan for the last few years as I have. It's fascinating to see how the power of one individual turned what was basically a dying company into the beloved giant that it is today.

At the very least, it's a great series of presentations. It's just amazing how much charisma this one person can exude. Of particular interest is the 1997 MacWorld expo at Boston.



"Deep in the dark “beleagued Apple” days a vest-and-collarless-shirt wearing Jobs, freshly returned to Apple, gives an impassioned speech about Apple’s continued relevance in the computer industry. He then shares the startling news of a new Apple-Microsoft alliance, including Internet Explorer as the default browser on all Macs. The crowd is not happy. Steve goes on to explain that Microsoft has kindly ensured Apple’s survival for a while through the purchase of 150 million bucks worth of Apple stock (non-voting shares, he hastens to explain)."

Goodbye, Steve Jobs Keynote, we had such fun times.

daily writing: another spot of trott

Just because I have so much to share. *snark*

A recent post caught my untrained eye. But then again with headlines bolded and the size of elephants, who wouldn't notice? The title is "Radical Common Sense".

Apparently in an agency he worked for they used to have a "Radical Common Sense Session" every Friday. I suspect that it's much like casual Friday, just more casual and with crazy shit.

Someone appointed the week before would present a example of "radical common sense" which, in essence means that you show something so simple, obvious, yet clever that you go "Now why haven't I thought of that?" I think it has to be non-advertising related, and it could be anything from a dishwasher with hands to African Totem poles made from cheese. I don't know. It's not made entirely clear what they should be. Which is kind of the point I assume.

Maybe I'll do my own weekly or bi-weekly thing where I present an example of radical common sense. If you can't tell already, I'm in love with the phrase "radical common sense.

home alone. day 4?

Awoke at 12. Again.

Against my will, I got up, went to the dining room, checked my emails, and read pick me for a few more pages before brushing teeth.

Spent some time finishing up ads from yesterday. Still flailing my head from last night's left4dead session. Boy that went on for a while. Stupid fuckers only stayed in two's thinking they could hack it just the two of them. We bid goodbye to Mercy West hospital 2 hours in, but the clock struck half past 2 by then. And only one of us got out alive. It was blisteringly painful.

Fucking tards.

Anyway. Went out, had breakfast at the breakfast house downstairs. Waited in line like a good sheep at the bank to deposit Eric's money. Then headed home. Humming to myself all day.

Came back, disappointed myself Heroes and cheered for Terminator, hoping it doesn't get canceled. Worked on ads again. Roads that look like roller-coaster trails are surprisingly hard to draw.

It's Ivy, on msn. Hasn't she gone yet? Apparently not. Silly girl. No planning whatsoever. I just hope she gets a ticket. If she doesn't she'll just have to stay in London for a few more days. Which might be a good thing for me.

Told her about my mistake.

hardy har har.

Next time some retard asks of the prettiness of any of my friends I say NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Sorry friends but it's to protect youse.

Oh hehe.

Hope he doesn't read this. If you are I'M SORRY.

Just had a coupla ideas or RyanAir. But I have no idea how to present them. Yet. It'l come. In fact, it came while I was writing this.

Joey calls. Talk shit for abit, and then tells me he's booked a table at four seasons at bayswater for 7pm.

hoooh boy.

At least Ivy will be able to taste the often-mentioned-always-referenced-but-I-haven't-tried Four Seasons Roast Duck©. Just because it is SO GOOD as I'm told. We'll see.

Also asked if I wanted to stay over at his place tonight so it would be easier to pick up Ivy at 8 tomorrow. Technically he's right. His abode is only a bus's ride away, 15 mins from Heathrow. Waking up late, PS3, all those are very good incentives. But then I remind myself I've been waking up late for the past few days already.

I'll have none of that.

So for all intents and purposes I declined his generous offer.
10 ten times at least.
Sigh.
He's cool tho, just a dick sometimes.
And very pushy.

Anyways. Tomorrow big day. Ivy coming. Wimbledon. Four Seasons. I'm letting Joseph pay this time. Better turn in early. After I do up the RyanAir ad of course.

Cog

Technically we're cogs in some kind of machine or other. The question is which cog do you aspire to be?

daily writing: Missed

This time it will be more daily than the last.

My books finally arrived yesterday, and I'm going with Pick me as my first read. It's as full of energy, enthusiasm and wit as a normal book about advertising, it just hasn't told me anything new so far. Whatever. I'm only 30 pages in, I'll judge after reading the whole thing.

Ivy is supposed to be coming tomorrow. 8am in the morning she arrives. big day.

daily writing: FInal Fantasy

I'm a huge fan of the Final Fantasy series. Despite all the grieving I've given it with it's overly complicated plots, underdeveloped characters, mindless grind-centric sub-quests and overproduced cutscenes, I've played each game released to date at least once, and I look forward to each new game with anticipation. I was a VII fanboy for quite some time. The Aries death scene is permanently burned into my retina, and I can hum most of the music featured in the game. I spent hours lurking in online messageboards, trying out every dodgy tip to revive Aries, and squealed in horror when I found out she wasn't meant to live after all. Sephiroth was one of my favourite villain ever, and I cheered for joy when I beat him in both Kingdom Hearts 1 and 2.

It's one of the reasons I find this article such an interesting read. An article comparing the Final Fantasy series with Battleships and model-making? Oh I am so there.

The escapist columns usually bore me to death. Musings that aren't really interesting, somewhat overwritten, and devoid of soul. I've not read one for ages, but this one I seem to connect with. He makes some good points, and while I don't agree with him completely, I can definitely see where he's coming from.

If nothing else, at least I learned abit about Battleships and the Japanese need for completionism.

daily writing: home alone day 1

I woke up at noon, but the sun wasn't up. Or at least it felt like it wasn't. Rain drizzled in that annoying way that English rain does, and the sun covered itself behind clouds of gray. Like it's ashamed of something.

The house is just the way I left it last night, not a door opened, a dust settled. Nothing happened without my knowledge. Even the dishes were still there, waiting to be washed. It's just depressing. I just hope this house doesn't turn into a full-on bachelor pad by the time I'm done.

I slept with the heating off, I figured I'd save some power make that 10 pounds last as long as I can. Bathed for the first time in 24 hours or more. The plumber specifically told me to tell my house-mates not to use the shower until the next day. Because otherwise all his work will be for naught and the leaking will continue.

I was a good boy and did as I was told. Luckily, when the shopkeeper came in yesterday he just assumed that I was renting this place, instead of sub-letting it from my friends. It worked out fine. He didn't suspect a thing. I'm SUCH a good liar.

Ann bought me Belgian Hot chocolate for Christmas (early Christmas I suppose), and I must say I'm pleasantly surprised, and mildly touched. Even though now that we're out of milk I've resorted to eating them as candy snacks, they still hold up. Chocolate will be chocolate I suppose.

My AD seems to be less of a retard today, either that or I'm losing my intelligence.

MSN has kept me company, it seems to be my only link to the lame excuse of a social life that I possess.

Day one: uneventful, boring and tedious. This has to go on for 2 more weeks.

Lord help me.

well.

almost didn't miss.

Still, this effort is proving fun and useful.

daily writing: alone in the house

Today's the day Lyn leaves, and that means I get the whole house to myself. Even though it sounds like a good thing I assure you it's not.

An empty house, devoid of people, sounds, and the usual drama and complaining. It may be a little bit more peaceful, but nothing beats the company of friends.

To remind me that I need to do certain things to make sure the house is in working order, Lyn put up 3 pink post-its that say, "Turn off heater and lights", "Lock Door" and "Feed Fish", the latter two coming with their respective hand drawn symbols.

This should tell you how forgetful I am.

Well, at least I don't think I've missed a day in my "daily writings" project yet. Oh you didn't know I was conducting a project? Of course you didn't. How could you? It's not like you exist, dear constant reader.

There's been one, I think for every day in December so far. I think. It's been a really useful exercise. I get to practice my writing and add to my archives at the same time. Of course, being a writer I really should be writing more than this, but as someone once said to a cowboy, "take it slow."

Anyway, thus concludes my column on my daily column. I won't be able to cheat tomorrow by writing about my writing anymore. Any more times than one would be cheating. Right?

Chelsea 2 Cluj 1

I arrived an hour early. The tube, as usual, was packed. It wasn't until I got off the train that I realized almost everyone on that train was heading for Stamford Bridge. 6pm and dark, everyone seemed to be wondering around aimlessly. Already Chelsea was accumulating quite a crowd. Some were snacking on hotdogs, others smoking, with the color blue uniting everyone under one banner. Even the refreshment stands were blue for crying out loud.

I spent the extra time touring the place. Since it was my first time at a club stadium, I gazed at everything with wonder, constantly starstruck everywhere I go. Huge portraits of stars, of today and yesteryear adorned the wall of the stadium. Names I've read about in books and referenced on shows. I was told all Chelsea fans cared about were results, I was painted a picture of heartless, number-crunching accountants who cheered when the applause sign went on. From this angle, that statement hardly holds water.

I meandered around for a good thirty minutes, before deciding that I can't be at a football game and not be seen buying a burger or a hot dog. It wouldn't feel right, both to me and others around me. So I got a burger and a hot dog. And a drink. Purely for the sake of that. My wallet wasn't thinking that night you see.

Going in, being ushered to my seat and I waited. Again I felt I had to be early. Golly I wouldn't want to miss a minute of it. I thought. I waited another half hour. Songs started playing, and before long the announcer came on. "Chelsea needs to WIN!" he said. Announcing first the eleven challengers taking on the home team today, every name was met with boos and jeers from the crowd, despite the announcer's speech about racism merely minutes before.

Oh what the hell. This isn't the place for political correctness I thought. Then it was time for the Home team's lineup to be announced. Before this I never thought much about the "home" and "away" factor, but man, I'm never making that mistake again. When Joe Cole, Drogba and Cech's name came up, the crowd went wild. Like a slap to the face, tonight was my rude awakening. What a difference it made!

The match was as exciting as a match like this can get, which is to say, very. It was packed to the brim, and people were chanting cheers and songs long before it was kick-off. I realized early on this felt a lot like going to church. A lot of people I don't know, with a lot of songs I don't know. Unlike church, there were no hymn books to follow to, but I handled myself quite finely, I might add. The first half was rather uneventful, we were not playing particularly well, handing them chances and thanking God they never capitalized. But then everything changed around the 40 minute mark. The opening goal was scored by one Kalou. And seeing it coming was met with an enormous satisfaction for my part.

Half-time. Bathroom breaks, hot dogs, pies, sodas, but none for me. I've had my fill. The place was WAY too crowded to do anything else but watch the highlights on tv screens anyway.

The 2nd half started with an equalizing goal from Cluj. Ten minutes in, it wasn't pretty. It was at this time I realized there the seats above us, the ones you need stairs and 20 meters to get to were filled with visitors from Romania. As soon as the ball hit the net, a taunting battle ensued between the two sides. That of course, came to an end when Drogba was switched in for Kalou, 1st half goal scorer. The crowd gave it up for Chelsea's star player, and it didn't take him long to perform either. Six minutes into the game, Chelsea supporters cheered for his goal, nudging Chelsea ahead with two goals to one. Then it was a few yellow cards, before everyone headed home, Chelsea fans especially pleased.

And we won, 2, 1. It was great. And I went home, queuing up along with hundreds of others for the tube, and finishing "Hey Whipple" on the way back. Feeling satisfied, and knowing I'll have something to brag about in front of Daniel the next time I see him.

Chelsea part 1

We won.

It still feels a bit weird to say that but yes, we won, 2-1, thanks to Kalou and Drogba. Will write more tomorrow.

Daily writing: Chelsea

Today's the day of my first football match. In England anyway. A champion's league match, CHELSEA v CFR says the ticket. Kick off at 19:25. Stamford Bridge Stadium, WEST STAND LOWER, GATE: 2 ROW:21 SEAT 0034 25 pounds. PERSISTENT STANDING IS NOT ALLOWED.

Oh, and no smoking.

I'll be out by 4, walk around central London, window shopping, a cuppa coffee, scribbling ideas, before I join the not very big crowd. I hope.

The subject supporting football teams has always fascinated me. I can understand well enough to support you local team, pride and all that. But how does an outsider, who has no affiliation with clubs or local teams chooses who to support?

Personally, I've supported Chelsea since my college days. Before that I wasn't into football much.

A close friend of mine was an ardent fan of Chelsea. This is before they suddenly had millions of pounds in their pockets courtesy of Abromavich. Before Mourinho and before their first title win in 4 decades. I never asked him how he came to support the blues but I suspected it's because of one Frank Lampard.

He would go on for ages how Lampard never missed a match, was never switched out and how amazing he was. Eventually I got to be pretty good friends with this chap and slowly it grew on me. Then one day I decided, just like that, out of the blue, I'm for Chelsea. And that's what I've been saying for 3 or 4 years now.

And that's my bland, boring uninteresting anecdote to how I became a Chelsea guy.

I've not done research, but I'm willing to bet that many Manchester United fans, Arsenal fans and Liverpool fans outside the UK will have a similar story. A friend, a family member, or a figure in authority will have played a very important part in which team a football fan comes to support. Influence of peers, and individuals around oneself.

AH football. So wonderful and yet so divisive. Bringing people together and pushing then further apart at the same time.

Daily writing: some dude.

So some dude called Gordon Comstock (I am sure there's a joke in that name there somewhere, just not sure what) got noticed by Scamp, and subsequently suffered a mini-digg effect. It wasn't enough to crash his site, but noticeable enough that he put up a post addressing new readers.

I can't help but wonder if it's a coincidence that scamp picked up on him after he embedded Scamp's ad on his blog.



Probably just a coincidence.

In other news my AD is driving me nuts. I'm starting to think he's a fucking retard.

Thank god the nabs book club is happening soon.

daily writing: Suck it up.

It seems all my friends are in sorrow somewhat. I feel like I'm living Grey's anatomy. All this drama and soap opera. Breaking up and being sad. At least soap opera on TV will have characters find love or happiness sometimes.

Real life is so often a bitch. They whine and they talk about how it used to be. Memories they probably won't be able to relive. Sulking in their own tears and self pity. It's hard to blame them, but it's still annoying. Sure it makes for riveting stories and soap opera, but as events happening around your person they're hardly interesting, because everyone has the same story, the same tears.

Sad people often fail to realize they're by no means unique in their disposition. When tears roll down and hearts are broken the outside world shuts itself off. Emotions take over and they encase themselves in a bubble. Life becomes all about one person. The one you want back so much.

I want to take a gun, scream "shut up!" and empty rounds into the ceiling, bringing about a cold silence before I pull out a cricket bat and bludgeon them all to death. Partly because when I'm faced with acquaintances like that, my mind draws blanks. I feel powerless to help them, mostly because I just don't know how. Bludgeoning may not solve things for anyone, but at least it's fun to pretend that it does. But mostly I listen and nod, pretending to be interested while picturing their bloodied skulls at the end of my bat, crimson red dripping down forming a thick, murky pool.

But I still like them and feel sorry for them. Am I sane or what?

daily writing: Waiting on a job

My art director of 2 days complained to me that it takes too long to get a job in the London ad agency. It's a nightmare, and everyone knows it. There's not much we can do about it though. It's said it takes an average of 2 years to get a job in the industry, by which time my visa would have run out.

It's an interesting dilemma, but I hope to at least gain some sort of experience by doing placements and crits before I get booted back to Malaysia. Hell, I'm desperate enough as it is.

At least my book arrived today.

The nice fellas at MCBD sent me off with an assignment. Read "Hey Whipple Squeeze this." I read the first 2 pages and already I'm cursing myself for not discovering it earlier. Homer, you're bumped off the top of my reading list for now.

7 pounds well spent.

Looking at some of my friends on facebook, it's reassuring to see I'm not the only one who has gained some weight.

Watched "aku suka jolok" video for the first time in 2 years. Ah, the long forgotten days of my misspent teenage years. Lyn and co vowed to kill me if I ever said it to their face again, so I'm saying it here. Where no fucking body is around.

haha.

2 years on and still nobody comes here regularly. Oh how I love the benefits of being not famous.

And now, I shall provide sound effects to a silent film.

daily writing: a spot of Trott

Anyone who's anyone at all in advertising should be reading the blog of Dave Trott, thinker, advertiser and probable con-artist. Somehow or other everything that appears on his blog is either insightful or mind-blowing. Even when it isn't one of the two it's always incredibly well written and interesting. With a huge load of controversy surrounding a lot of the statement he makes.

I respect Dave Trott's as an advertiser. I don't see how anyone can't, but as a person I'm not so sure.

His latest post is titled "when is it okay to cheat?"

An observant person would notice that the title takes the form of a question. So does he provide an answer? Well, yes.

From my understanding it boils down to 'as long as you don't get caught'.

Now I'm conflicted. Sure the guy has done great work, and is revered in many circles, but it's hard to root for someone who thinks wrongdoing is fine as long as you can get away with it.

Sure "art is what you can get away with", but when art meant anything else other than what it means to the individual?

Maybe he's just defining stealing differently, as a "homage" is very different from "thieving", at least in my book.

"Hypocrisy of outraged morality"? Perhaps. Dave, perhaps.

Dave Trott, as he reveals more and more of himself to us, is starting to bear a startling resemblance to Cassidy, the Irish vampire. Instantly likable but incredibly hard to root for as time goes on.

Do I think he's right? I'm not sure. I don't think stealing is right. I think using elements from someone else's work to complement your own isn't wrong, just bad if someone finds out. "Gorrilla" was 'inspired' by a Canadian ad on youtube.

I do agree that getting caught is stupid, and if someone managed to pull a fast one under my nose I'll probably be impressed before I get angry.

But as Alan Fletcher pointed out: "1+1=3", meaning that something new will often arise with the sum of two old things.

I'm 22, unemployed, and probably stupid. So I'll settle on "It's okay to steal as long what you created was more than the sum of it's stolen parts".

daily writing: rants

The only other thing I need to feel Like Spider Jerusalem right now is a bald head and looks that kill, not because I'm pretty.

They say boredom kills. Whoever they are, I will do nothing to refute that statement. One year ago I thought all I wanted to do was to write great ads, win countless ad awards and work long, exhausting underpaid hours in the ad industry.

I still do, to some extent, but like everything else I've wanted to achieve, life gets in the way.Not my life, but the life everyone else is living. What do you do when nothing goes according to plan? When everything you do turns out out be a dud and nothing seems to make any sense?

Answer? Blog. Write and write and write. Vent your heart out and pour every single drop of blood, sweat and tears into this measly little text box that publishes this block of text into the great, insane world known as the internet. Every turn leads to a dead end, and a man can only take so many dead ends before breaks down and starts blogging about it. Some people wash it down with whiskey, some with beer, others with cigarettes, I do all three, all the while making sure I spell each word right and that every line of meaningless blabber is as interesting to read as possible. I like to write. Writing on a tobacco and alcohol fix is even better. It's not as good as an underpaid job, because at least you know something is going IN to your bank account, but it's good all the same. Keeps me sane, but not sane enough not to blog.

I've wanted to write for a living for quite some time, but now I'm asked to think for a living, which wouldn't be so bad, because thinking is fun too, but whats not so fun is to be asked how to think in order to make a living. It's almost like brain-washing. All these books and courses on how to be successful in the modern marketplace are effectively books on how you should think or act in society in order to make money. Which isn't bad, just frustrating.

There are numerous people who can get by or even get rich by doing what they love doing. Filthy rich even. Perhaps one can only get rich by doing what he loves. Every book I've read seems to support this ideal. Making sure you don;t fall out of love is the real challenge perhaps. I love writing, and I love doing up ads with a partner, the latter is hard because finding a partner is hard. Doing ads alone is not just hard-work. It's downright torture for me. Writing is relatively easy. Good writing is another story, But I haven't fallen out of love with it just yet.

Just as a writer needs an editor, a copywriter needs an art director. Good editors are hard to find, and so are good art directors. I hope I find one soon.

Opportunity is just as important as hard work.

Putting in hours in equally as important.

Bananas are yellow and they taste nice.

Pyramids are pyramids in shape.

Dinosaurs are majestic and sad.

Maybe the whole point of life is to drive you insane and your job is to fight it.

...

Every time I wonder why is life worth living so much, I remind myself that life is finite, then suddenly it's all ok.

on creativity

self doubt, fear, wonder, amazement, and various other things the word "creativity" may imply.

daily writing: something awful and pointless.

Being aware and conscious is a deeply strange and wonderful feeling to me. The evolution of consciousness fascinates me, and our awareness of who we are and what everything around us are and what it means to us are things that I find infinitely interesting and I don't think I will ever stop wondering about it.

Cultural awareness then, seems small in the grand scale of things.

In reading "Outliers" by Mr. Gladwell, I'm amazed by his ability to talk about cultural differences and stereotypes without sounding the least insulting or otherwise. I've always had a fear of offending people, mainly because I'm so damn good at it, I tend to piss off the wrong people. But that's besides the point. In his book Gladwell discusses the importance of cultural legacy; how where our ancestors grew up, how they were brought up and what they did for a living is more important in understanding our own behaviour then we initially thought.

This got me thinking about my own "Legacies" and how it is significant to what I do now.

Asian societies in general have a very high "power distance index",which basically means we respect those in power a lot more than cultures with a low PDI.

Example, my housemates are all older than me by 4 or 3 years. Thus I feel I'm somewhat in a subservient position whenever I have a discussion with them. I tend to mitigate my speeches, end up being very diplomatic, and sometimes I disgust myself how indecisive and insecure I end up sounding. Regardless of whether or not I may feel that way. I may think they're dicks sometimes but I don't come out and say it.

Am I being nice or am I just a pussy? Am I wrong for recognizing as maturity?

In a creative team, what would this mean?

If I am unable to see my partner as a peer, it's probably going to be difficult working with him.

Somehow it feels right for me to be acting this way, because whenever I try to overstep these boundaries I end up sounding like a prick.

After all these years, I still can't say what I mean without pissing someone off. Maybe it's a matter of how one views any given subject. Like being optimistic. I don't know.

*sigh*

*sigh*

*sigh*

Life is a strange conundrum. How can something so beautiful be so frustrating at the same time?

What happens the more you know?

I saw this today.

"Perhaps most famously, (William) Gibson wrote Neuromancer without the aid of a computer, and indeed, without knowing much about computers at all. This ignorance led to a lesson that every scifi writer, fan and everybody else should learn: your knowledge might be crippling your imagination. Gibson was free to imagine virtual social networks and complex visual interfaces primarily because he had no reason to think otherwise." — Avi Abrams.

Since we are creatures of rules, a lot of us are compelled to follow rules the minute we learn them. But being creative involves breaking rules. Should we be more like William Gibson then?

Do it, and let imagination run wild.

Rules are very hard to break without good purpose.

It's something I struggle with everyday.

Dreams, Outliers.

Yesterday night before I slept I told myself that I was going to keep a dream journal.
This morning I woke up having a vague recollection of the dream I had.
It had something to do with Veronica Mars.
I've been watching too much of that lately.
It's really good. You should try it.
Then I went to fry 2 eggs, eat 3 pieces of toast, some yogurt and a glass of juice.
Now I can't remember What I was supposed to be writing about.

How DO people keep dream journals anyway?

It just struck me that I had no idea what they're for.
Maybe later.

Funny how dreams almost wants us to forget them when we wake up.

**

My copy of "outliers" arrived yesterday or the day before.
I've been devouring it since. Malcolm Gladwell has been one of my favourite writers ever since I read "blink". I got the hardcover version for 7 pounds. yay.

Reading "Outliers", it's easy to think that success, big league, Microsoft, Apple kind of success is only possible by circumstance. Maybe it's what's the book about. I'll have to read further to judge, but it's been interesting, as his books or talks usually are.

Insights abundant.

Doesn't hurt that the man writes like a genius. Short, succinct, yet never lacking in details.

The bland cover belies it's true secrets. If you've enjoyed any of his previous books, give this one a try.

wtf.

Keyword analysis showed me that at least 2 dudes came to my blog looking for "no arms no legs porn."

Why not believing in God helps me sleep at night.

The word God here refers to the monotheistic judeo-christian God. Polytheistic religious systems should require a different article as far as I'm concerned.

Say what you will about evidence, belief in God is still a choice. The 2 major camps I see in this debates are the hard-core atheists who believe He definitely doesn't exist, and the fundamentalists, whose positions are well documented in various ancient works of fiction authored by many, edited by more and translated by even more. Neither side, in my opinion provide enough sound evidence to prove or disprove the existence of He, and I for one used to believe there was no point in arguing. Until now that is.

So belief in God is simply a choice between having faith in the book that has been in print since the dawn of time, or siding with existential allegorical arguments that make sense, but don't necessary disprove God's being here in the grand scheme of things.

If you were a fence sitter like I was, you probably don't care anymore. The arguments have become old and boring, lost their punch like a catchy pop song overplayed, and the so called "evidence"... well they were never really sound or real to begin with and require a great suspension of disbelief to be taken seriously. Like bad science-fiction, only set in the past.

The question of which side of the fence I should fall into has remained largely in the back of my head for quite some time. Being in the middle forever didn't seem like a good option, and being on either seemed to be contradictory to what I thought I believed. Here's how I arrived at my decision.

Faith, by definition, is believing without doubt. By having faith in God, we accept that everything that happens in our lives is an act of God. Good or bad, God has a plan. His plan shall not be changed, and in the end it all will be well, no matter how terrible it may seem now. God has a plan. Always have, always will and always have been. Adhere to the plan and ye shall be welcomed into His Kingdom Come with arms wide open. Disobey and suffer in Hell for eternity.

Staunch atheists on the other hand, believe a variety of things, and since there is no specific scripture or book I can reference, it's rather difficult to provide a broad generalization and hit everyone's definition. One thing Atheists can all agree on however is that there is no, or probably is no God. Nada, zilch, ditto. God does not run lives, he answers no prayers, there is no plan, no heaven and no hell. John Lennon famously invited us to imagine, and imagine these people did. They imagined a lot of things previously thought to be simple truths and facts of life out of their system.

Looking at it from the "what's happening in the world" point of view instead of the traditional "what happens after I die" point of view, the answer is pretty clear. My choices were, believe in the existence of God and accept that all the wars, suffering and bullshit going on in the world is the work of God, and have faith in his plan, therefore admitting to myself that God, should he exist is a twisted, evil, seriously disturbed individual who desperately needs help, and has NO business whatsoever trying to run a Universe in which our planet is smaller than the size of a pixel on my screen, or accept that there probably is no God (I cannot, with all the conviction in my heart, say he definitely doesn't exist) and all the terrible things happening in the world are a result of human doing and therefore admitting to myself that we human beings are the most revolting creatures ever to walk the earth. We might someday destroy for fuck's sake.

The problem with the former option is this. It really doesn't have any room for other interpretations (it wouldn't be called religion if it did) despite what many "religious" people have told me. The book's the book. It could be taken any number of ways but it probably wasn't written to be used that way. At best it's an outdated moral compass that proclaims it has the answer to the human condition, the recipe for salvation, at worst a mind-control tool. A very successful one at that. Guiness Book of World Records like.

Given the choice between Deity fallibility and human fallibility I happily chose the latter. The other kind is just too scary to think about. Given the choice, I'd rather not believe in God and than believe in him. Because if he were there, he's probably not doing his job, or not there. At all.

That's my argument. It's not much different from what has been said before, but at least I've said it. If you've humored me this long I thank you, this really wasn't for you, but please accept my thanks anyway. In this overcrowded, overloaded society that we live in, I really wonder what keeps me sane.

Job hunting.

I still haven't given up though.

The list.

Fairy Liquid
-Let it pile up, you'll spend last time anyway.

PrittStick
-Nothing special, just good on paper.

AnnSummers
-Contribute to the population problem sexily.

Subway
-custom-made to specifications.

Extra chewing gum
-So you taste nicer.

Best Beginnings
-Why using your nipples can make your kid smarter.

Smallville

Is a good show, well now... season 8 of it...the past episodes.. that I've watched. Have been... quite. enjoyable.

Despite how bland, boring and frustrating Clark Kent is. I cheer every time I see Green Arrow, Mercer, Doomsday, or any other character come one screen.

How can a show with such an unlikable main character be so good?

Nevermind.

Can't have less Clark, but please have more everyone else.

Oh the doomsday origin is also pretty sweet. Coming along nicely.

GO OBAMA

*crosses fingers*

Spoliers: Kill your Boyfriend.

A one shot comic written by Grant Morrison drawn by Philip Bond, this is probably the greatest comic I've read this year. I enjoyed it so so much that I'm gushing whenever I think about it. Which is why I haven't talked about it to any of my friends yet and I choose to vent my feelings here.

"Kill your boyfriend" to me is a love letter to the bygone days of youth spent thinking about all the things we could have done and didn't for some reason or other. Right at the start of the book there's a classroom scene where our heroine daydreams about whipping out a machine gun and gunning down everyone in sight, all the while having her blouse hanging loose, bra exposed. I can't count how many times thoughts like that have struck me while I was in anywhere akin to meetings or classrooms, sans the bra and blouse part of course.

Our main girl starts out relatively innocent, with her sins equally so. Hiding skanky underwear from her parents, getting caught with a condom in her room, wanting to fuck her dork boyfriend Paul desperately so yet denied every time by Paul himself no less in favour of "fantasy books written to be more poetic" or some shit like that.

Adventure starts when she meets an anarchic, out of control, free-spirited youth that shows her the little things in life her parents worked so hard to keep her away from like drinking, smoking, guns, drugs, and letting loose. With him in tow, they set off on a small road trip across the UK, ending in Blackpool. Along the way, our heroine breaks away from the confining dictations of society, allowing her to do, and be whatever she wants.

"I'm a page three gril, a Warhol superstar, I'm a dyke, a riot grrrrl, I'm the queen of sex."

Reading "Kill you Boyfriend" is pure guilty pleasure. A perfect vent in which misgivings about that fat fuck that blocks the stairs at the station can be exorcised. Remember that asshole back in high school you've always wanted to drag back an alley and beat the living shit out of? How about the queue cutting fuckers at the ticket stops? I hate those guys too. Reading this was like being given an opportunity to do all those things. Of course, there's no big moral at the end of the story, no big revelation or moment of clarity. It's always great to see that you're not alone in your own sick, twisted desires and this really did resonate with me, and my earlier days spent doing jack shit.

Like being given a loaded gun and being dared to fire.

Fucking excellent.

Washing the dishes is boring.

It's one of those things that refuses to be interesting no matter what you do. They invented dishwashers but that doesn't solve the problem of having to scrub dishes before they go in. I'd take cleaning the toilet or vacuuming the floor over fucking dishes any day of the week. At least those jobs are visually stimulating, there's a good chance you'll walk away from cleaning the toilet (our toilet anyways) with a story worthy of Kevin Smith's dvd release. All the poop scrubbing and porcelain shining will at least give me a good, ugly story to talk about with my friends the next time I'm high or something.

But doing the fucking dishes? No chance. I don't think it's possible to spice up a conversation about dish washing. Bad source material. I'd say even Jim Carrey couldn't do it. It's beyond human reach.

The holy grail of comedy maybe? The time I hear a joke about dishwashing that makes me laugh is the day I stop playing videogames. AKA never.

...

On with the dish washing liquid ideas.

It looked at me squarely in the eye.

A black letterbox around the screen. "Happiness, leaves when wanted." it said.

Funny. Welcome to the fan-translated world of mother3 indeed.

loneliness

is a weird thing. It comes to bite you in the ass even when you've surrounded by friends. In the night, alone, in front of the keyboard, in front of the layout pad, you get bit.

My opinion of John McCain went up.

Racism is an ugly, ugly thing.

Where I come from though, racism is very often an extension of the class war(things were somewhat good a long time ago, or so I'm lead to believe). Though many of our societal structures are still centred on race. Like all sound-minded people I see absolutely no sense or logic whatsoever in this. How my country measures what a person is worth is to me, fundamentally questionable.(I hesitate to say wrong) That's a story for another day, when I'm feeling less like I'm standing on the edge of a tall, tall cliff.

If I could vote in America, I wouldn't vote for McCain but I have to say, I liked him a little better after seeing this video.

Not so much for the booers though.

Shame on them.

And God help us.

Several answers to the question: whats cooler than zombies?

1. More zombies.

2. Zombies in Hell.

3. Dinosaur zombies.

3. Dinosaur zombies in Hell.

4. Zombies on a date.

5. Zombie heads on a stick(ala carte).

6. Ninja Zombies.

7. Pirate Zombies.

8. Ninja Zombies fighting Pirate Zombies.

9. Brains.

10. Porn.

British funny and American sequential art.

Throughout recent months I've seen my tastes evolved and change.

I've become a big fan of Vertigo comics, or rather American comics in general.

I've spent quite abit of money on trades, and some issues. I started listening and watching alot of comic book podcasts.

Ask me 3 years ago would I EVER be buying American comics or if I knew what are trades, issues, annual, OGN, or who Brian K Vaughn, Brian Michael Bendis, Brian Wood are I would have said no.

I've fallen out of love with manga it seems. FLCL is probably the only anime series I still truly love, I'll still read One Piece out of obligation but fuck me if I'm ever touching anything naruto-related again. EVER.

I started watching some British comedy and developed an unhealthy fascination and like for "a bit of fry and laurie" and "Laurel and Hardy". I still don't get "Mighty Boosh" and Big Brother can stick it's camera up its ass but I did not expect myself to be such a huge fan of Hugh Laurie's comedy stuff. I never got Little Britain and have only vague recollections of "mind your language" and today here I am, desperately hoping someone will upload another youtube of Hugh Laurie on Piano.

I'll try to watch more Phyton later this year.

I was feeling bored so I went on youtube.

Funniest shit I've seen all week.

besides that gay bar joke I've been cracking way too often recently.

downloading jay and silent bob strikes back after this.

Fucker's got a point.

If yeh ken uundarsteend 'is thick scot'ish accent 'at is.



ee's also stark raving mad.

depends on 'ow yeh see'im ah guess.

things

Scott Pilgrim is awesome.

Plumtree rocks.

I got back my lost wallet and lost camera.

Tomorrow is go to London and then to Netherlands day.

It's good.

Life is good.

When I come back it's seriously looking for a job time.

Now it's blogging and packing time.

Later it's send emails to potential employees hour, then call my girl half an hour.

Life is good.

Hopefully I'll come back with pictures.

Amsterdam, here I come!!

colour blind

This won Cannes Gold.

Rightly deserved.

So tell me again how this not makes sense?

I can't beat air man!

If you ask me we all need a little bit of engrish in our lives.

Here's my fix for today.

Ultraman, Ultraman SEVEN!!!!!

Perplexing, nostalgic, ultimately fantastic.

I found myself striking my fist in the air the the rhythm of the chorus.



Truly, memories of our childhood are worth more than 110 million, but okkusenman is still great.

*fist in the air*

okkusenman!!!!!

EDIT:
I've watched this 5 or 6 times in a row now. Each time I watch it my heart strings get tugged a little more.

The scenery I've overlooked is definitely worth okkusenman.

science vs religion.

Nike. take it to the next level.

Bubbles gone wild.

I was being the news-conscious individual that I normally was the other day when I was reading scamp's blog. Just being the good student, keeping up with news from a trustworthy anonymous source on the interwebs, when I saw this ad.

It's an ad for Sony.


If you read scamp's blog then you'd know he thinks it's shit, and so do many anonymous comments on the blog. (btw read the tip posted on scamp's blog today. It's great.)

Besides being a more expensive "balls" knock-off, I find most of the comments retarded and the ad a stunning piece of work.

The idea of the ad is that it encourages people to record it, document it from their own point of view. The bubbles are just a vessel. Of course, the fact that huge amounts of bubbles and foam running wild on a warm, sunny day is the very definition of bliss helps out quite abit.

It's an excellent of example of advertising/design/art evoking happiness in people.

Bringing people together.

After watching the ad a few more times I told myself, "I wanna do this."

More so than awards, raising sales, being a CD and whatnot.

I want to unite people, inspire bliss and bring out the joy in people that their egos have hidden for so long.

The Singapore/China thing

In short, would you rather live with free will and bear the insecurities that comes along with it?

or the illusion of free will and be safe?

adsoftheworld

It's sickening sometimes. How far people will go just to promote their own work.

Every time I and go on to ads of the world and I see an ad with the first comment is "great!" "love it" or anything of the sort the first thing I do is see the bugger is from. If the comment came from the same country the ad came from, I raise my suspicions.

People who do this are priming people to elicit a good response from them, for egoistical purposes mostly.

I'm losing faith in many things lately.

this bitter thing is fun to watch.

and then this.

and then even sweeter, this.

I'm tired of playing win win.

Dear Janet,

I'm sorry but it's true.

I'm tired, so tired of playing win win.

Every time I try it it ends up as me losing.

It's especially easy to lose when you're outnumbered.

While in the past I would have been ok with that, things have somewhat changed.

I still try to do my best, but I'm beginning to despair.

I think I know why.

I'm doing it wrong.

But it's tiring, and it's hard.

So hard.

That's not to say I'll give up.

But it's so hard.

I need someone to tell me and convince me that there's a win win solution to every problem in the world.

Because I'm beginning to lose sight of that.

How do you do it everyday? Not despair even when it seems like some God is toying with you. How do you do it?

It's something I need learn, and apply.

cheers.

NO more pain

batshit insane.

I loled.

Ken Lee

from janet.

*chuckles*

Not about astronomy, science, art, politics or anything trivial in particular, but still pretty important.

I'm 21. I'm young, almost criminally so. I don't feel I'm qualified to talk about alot of the things going on in the world right now. I feel like I haven't been through enough. Expressing your views and thoughts when you don't know enough is only okay when the audience you're speaking feels like you've known enough. Even so, I still feel this constant sense of inferiority.

With that understood, I'm not going to say anything today.

But I'm going to let someone else say what I wanted to say.

I'll have my say in due time.

But society doesn't often allow you the context in which you can freely express yourself and be taken seriously.

So I give you what is positively the most entertaining presentation I have seen, perhaps ever.

Clifford Stoll is an astronomer (though his astronomy career took a turn when he noticed a bookkeeping error that ultimately led him to track down a notorious hacker), researcher and internationally recognized computer security expert -- who happens to be a vocal critic of technology -- Stoll makes a sharp, witty case for keeping computers out of the classroom. Currently teaching college-level physics to eighth graders at a local school, he stays busy in his spare time building Klein bottles.

We're no strangers to love.

I told her, you know the rules baby, and so did I. A full commitment's What I'm thinking of. You wouldn't get this from any other guy. I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling, gonna make you, understand.

:D

HAVE NOT BEEN POSTING

because of lack of internets.

Will be active, the connection, in a month at most.

D and AD is tomorrow.

will post work.

new portfolio site going up.

www.carbonmade.com.

check it out.

The hot shower in my house is repaired.

This would be a good thing if a) I wasn't moving out in a week. b) I can't use it til tomorrow evening. and c) The last time I bathed was monday.

anyway.

This new comic I found is so awesome.

well...

yes it is. It's pretty awesome.

It's called WE ARE THE ROBOTS and it's so awesome.

I'm so tired and I so want to bath.

Bath bath bath bath.

The heater in my house gave away.

As a result we have no hot showers at home. It is being taken(hot showers) at other places that is not my house.

But that's not what I'm here about. I'm here about happier funnier things thing.

check out John Cleese's Open letter to America in which he revokes America's independence due to the inability to elect a competent president.

And that's about it.

I'm not one for cheery insights today. A life without hot showers in the northern hemisphere sucks banana balls I tell you.

Have you ever googled yourself?

Granted, your name may have more results or definitions or whatever if it's english, but here's what I found.

Top of results is my wiki entry. (wow) As I clicked on it I'm amused(but not surprised) to find my name is associated with females, birds, seascoffing, a chinese idiom and genetics. In that order, also something about millions and millions of years and filling up the sea.

okay maybe a little bit surprised.

As a trophy to adorn on my oversized ego, I paste the wiki entry in it's entirety here.

Jingwei
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Jump to: navigation, search

Jingwei is the name of a character in Chinese mythology. Originally the daughter of the emperor Yandi, she perished at a young age in the East Sea. After her death she chose to assume the shape of a bird in order to exact revenge upon the sea by bringing stones and small twigs from the mountains nearby over the sea in an effort to fill it up. Jingwei even has a short dialogue with the sea where the sea scoffs her, claiming that she wouldn't be able to fill it up even in a million years, whereupon she claims that she will then proceed to take ten million years, even one hundred million years, whatever it takes to fill up the sea so that others would not have to perish as she did.

From this myth comes the Chinese expression "Jingwei filling the sea" meaning a symbol of dogged determination and perseverance in the face of seemingly impossible odds.

Professor Manyuan Long from the University of Chicago named a new Drosophilia gene after Jingwei because it was - like the princess - 'reincarnated' with a new function and a new appearance (structure). Other related genes were named following the legend.

Yes narcissistic blah blah. Tell me something I DON'T know.

tagging posts.

I was tagging up my previous posts up til now when something hit me.

If I tag a post advertising and not life, it feels like I'm not considering advertising part of life, which it clearly is, but if I tag it life as well, then it feels like I'm missing something, If I'm not making sense then yeah, I agree, but somehow it don't feel right yeah?

Maybe I should just remove all the "life" tags since it seems redundant.

But the life tags make it sound like I'm actually having a life outside shit I post here.

Which I clearly do. *ahem*

.....

But if I tag advertising "life" then I'd have to tag everything else life too. Cause it seems to work out logically that way, since everything here is part of life for some sort...


.... I need to find a new definition for life.

The key to failure.

The Key too failure, to me, is thinking too big.

I'm not saying we shouldn't think big, but it works out better if we think small and work our way up in small-sy small-sy steps.

Think big, but keep it in the back of your head.

Think big but start small.

Start small but think big.

Think big and small.

So think small, but set big goals.

Small+small+small=big.

While I'm at it...

This blog is an EXCELLENT resource for creatives. I do not say that lightly. The caps were justifiably used. The previous 2 sentences were worth their time. So is this one and the previous one.

seriously. GO.

I now pronounce you, art director and copywriter.

I've been in the UK for some time now, and have worked with an art director for several months. My view that over here at least, the relationship between an art director and a copywriter is akin to marriage.

for those back home, you might say "what? surely that's abit extreme isn't it?" or "you siao ar?"

well sad to say but that's what it seems like here. for proof of that go over to here.

Did you see the photos? the references? I'm dead sure I'm not the first one to make the connection, but finding a right partner in advertising is alot like hunting for a spouse. They're like your second significant other. Many of the sam rules apply. Should you be happy that in Malaysia it's nowhere in fucking hell near the state it is here?

maybe.

A tinggling sensation tells me that marriages in the UK is the thing that helps secure the quality of ads. Or the incomprehensibility of it all. who knows.

What do you think.

no arms, no legs, no worries.

It makes you think everything is possible.

brb cult.

free hugz

Change the world

Macworld

The Apple Macworld keynote 2008 is one hell of a comercial.

I almost cried when Randy Newman performed.

Funfact2

I talk to myself an awful lot. Sometimes I scare myself, but most of the time I'll not be conscious when I'm doing it so I often realize afterward how stupid I must have looked. It happens often when I'm thinking about embarrassing situations where I knew I could've done better and I get that feeling like a part of my heart has been ripped out and I want to cover myself with a paper bag and never come out. Ironically, I feel like that as well if I've accidentally blurted out something to myself in public.

It happens almost exclusively when I'm alone, but a few of my unlucky friends have had the honour of sampling my insanities. Phrases I often mutter(at the top of my head) are "fuck!" or "How could you have done that?" or "ah shit chibai!" and or various other variations there of, or something else entirely. Sometimes I'll just give the finger into thin air, hoping to curse some demon from the past or other, or just to convince myself I'm somehow cool.


Oftentimes it happens when I'm walking, and I let my mind wander into territories unknown. Sometimes I will think of an event in which I have severely embarrassed myself, as previously stated, or I'll start thinking aloud, literally. Some other time I'll be having a cigarette alone, outside in the backyard, and it happens. I have no way of controlling when or how it happens.

I try not to believe that old story of only crazy people talk to themselves, but what do I know? I'm as crazy as probably everyone else, maybe a degree more.

I have no idea if this happens to anyone else. Are you completely silent when you're alone?

weird fact about me 1

I like to go to sleep naked. I like the feel of the blankets against my skin, it's warm and fuzzy (usually). I've been doing it for a rather long time and I've come to like it very much. I can still fall asleep with clothes on should the need arise, just that it's not as pleasurable and it takes me a longer time to do so.

DISEASE.

I believe we're all afflicted with a disease save a select few, this disease is special, in that it is memetic in nature. It's a virus that spreads one one to another through conversations, discussions and most prominently, the media. I call it the the powerlessness complex, it's a disease that manifest itself as we get older, prime symptoms are the observation and realization that we, as individuals are incapable of changing anything in this god-forsaken planet. That nothing can be changed, and the only thing we can do is remain stoic and numb about it, sitting in our homes and mope about it, go about our own business and not give a flying fuck. Let the others do the work.

Why am I writing this? Because this I've just gone through a battle of ideas and thoughts with my friends, who have done nothing but increase the strength of this disease within me. Granted, I've had this disease for the better part of my 21 year life, but talking with them did nothing but bolster my powerlessness.

I'm trying, trying so hard, to combat this disease. I'm afraid I might not make it, I feel like I'm losing, I hope it's not too late for me to notice now.

Everything I'm doing now, studying overseas, grubbing up money like a starving monkey feasting on bananas, listening to Bob Dylan, talking with Janet, Peter, and like minded people, have been, at least for me, in my own little way, my own efforts in eradicating this disease from me.

My friend, at least, is concerned that my efforts are futile, that I lack to will to change anything, he pointed his finger and said "you're not even half way there, and I've seen shitload of stuff in my life, and I know how successful people are like."

How should I take this?

Well at it's heart it's honest feedback, and I'm really grateful for that. But his intentions are vague as best. I can't decide wether it's an effort to make me conscious of how little efforts I've put into my endeavors, or a pessimistic, spiteful attempt at proving his own point that I am never, ever achieve anything related to my ultimate goal, which is affect the world and make it a better place in some sense.

"This discussions is over in 5, 10 years, he said, and you bet you ass I will be there to shoot this back at you when the time comes." was what he said.

It makes me sad, depresses me that this occurs on a daily basis. To me, to every other people around the world, it depresses me how easy this disease spreads from one pessimistic person to another. How sad. I fear that my own integrity is being damaged by this.

I feel strongly for many things. Unfair elections, violations of basic human rights occurring in places all around the world. But it depresses me most of all, that people like my friend exists at all.

Bob Dylan and Bob Marley both believed that music could change the world. Their songs touched millions and did much to help spread love and unity.

I'm trying, trying so hard. So hard, to eradicate this disease from me.

No I'm not succeeding.

"what are you gonna do? write on your blog?" he said. Implying that it won't do anything.

I have nothing to say to people that won't listen.

But maybe getting to listen is the key.

Do I think I can change the world?

......

Yes.

How?

I don't know.

I don't know.

.......

I don't believe in god, the world has given me enough reason to believe that he's a figment of our overactive imagination. I regard the bible as leisure reading. But this is one time where I really, really wish he exists.

I'm not doing enough, I know.

Thanks Kelvin for the wake up call. I vow to prove you wrong, even if it kills me.

I say that from the bottom, the very rock bottom of my estranged, sad pathetic heart.