TWO VISITORS

I want to write. I want to tell a story.

However, I think what I really want is an inspiration, something that tells itself, something knocking the door at the back of my mind, wanting to be let in, and all I have to do is to open that door. Lately I have been thinking about a few men I keep bumping into. Both normally hang out around Oxford Street, though I have seen the first guy somewhere else. He always walks around in trainers, a pair of tennis shorts if it's summer, a navy blue track bottom in winter. He carries with him a megaphone, through which he spouts mixed messages; God's love to all mankind, but at times fulminating profusely about how the rest of the world is going to hell in a handbasket. He never tires of his own voice, and he does not care whether anyone is listening; to him, the sound of his own voice is a comfort, a reassurance of his own mortality, his very existence, an affirmation that this is not a dream. He proclaims proudly that he exists, and to my mind he does so brilliantly, no matter how poor, how ineffective his diatribes can be.

The second man also declares his existence, but in a more subtle and gentle way. I often see him outside John Lewis, where he plays his violin every day, full of passion and energy and at times, sadness. Maybe it is because he is blind that I construe him as a gentle soul. I once wanted to buy him a drink, coffee perhaps, but instead, I sat down on a bench, and listened. In truth, I was afraid. Afraid that I am wrong about him. Maybe what I perceive him to be is merely a construct of my memories, of childhood tales of kindness to those less fortunate. If such is the case, however, I am glad. At least I have yet to lose the capacity to think kindly of others.

Hark! Is that the sound of my muse approaching, gently tapping, ceaselessly tapping on the door?

- `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door
Only this, and nothing more.' -
Edgar Allan Poe

HAPPINESS IS AN IPOD AWAY

I am currently at the MARA Hostel Lounge waiting for my new mobile phone to arrive. It's a Sony Ericsson K700i, and I got it for free. Well, not technically free. I'm now contractually bound to stay with Vodafone for the next 12 months, I can't change my tariff for the next 6 months, and generally be its bitch till say, oh, December 2005. Oh, and did I mention I've mortgagaged half of my proverbial soul as well?

Oh well. At least Hanim is going to get a new phone. Yes, that is right, my friend. Ahmad, lately known as mayomyth or even Silverfeck, will be giving away his brand new phone to his fiancee. But hey! It'll make her happy, and what's a phone compared to the happiness of the person you love?

I'm too sappy for my own good sometimes.

It got me thinking though. Why do we feel this overwhelming need to get all the new stuff, all supposedly 'cool' gadgets that supposedly make us feel marginally better about our lives? Well, at least up until the next cool thing comes up. I'm not saying I haven't been guilty of the same thing. Far be it from the truth. Heck, if I had the money, you probably won't be reading this, because it'd be likely that I'd be queuing up for an iPod at PCWorld rather than typing this sour-grapey rant reserved only for those either with no money or no super-rich dad capable of supporting a platinum credit-card for his son.

As it is, I have neither. So I'll just pretend to have higher principles and sneer at all those people getting new iPods, new handphones with a built in camera and video recorder with resolutions of up to 9808 million gigapixels, new set of 13.1 speakers with diamond-plated wiring and say:

"Does it all make you really happy? Does it?"

Unfortunately, most of them will emphatically answer "YEAH!!"

Damned wankers.

I HAVE NO MONEY AND I MUST SPEND

It is really, really, really annoying when I have no money. Unfortunately that tends to happen quite, quite, quite often. As a result I am often so, so, so, so bloody annoyed. Which is why most people find me so, so, so weird at times.

As you can probably see I am feeling pretty bored. I have sat in front of this bloody computer thinking abt how the heck am I going to end this bloody essay on the effect of Salomon v Salomon Ltd on the principle of incoporation of public comp yadayadayadayada.. (this actually goes on for about another half an hour... come back later)

(half an hour later)

This weekend I shall be doing something I have never ever ever ever done (my life is repetitive, I get it). I'll be supporting the *Bleep!*-ing Gunners against Chelsea. Well, it IS the lesser of two evils.

Is it just me or does Jose Mourinho look like an older version of Tim Cahill?

Ooh... Apai has got a new flat screen monitor. That'll keep him happy for the next, oh, say 25 seconds or so.

Ciao.

Kicking ass and taking no prisoners,

Mayomyth @ Silverfeck @ Ahmad (what a letdown)

THIS IS A JOINT BROADCAST: PLEASE VISIT APAI'S BLOG, AN AFFILIATED MEMBER OF THE GRUMPY-YOUNG-MEN-IN-ARMS BROTHERHOOD

What is up with the various taglines behind those MSN nicknames? For example:

(some anonymous nick): (you gave me happiness)
(another anonymous nick): in pain
(yet another anonymous nick): known to carry big things
etc.. etc.. repeat ad nauseum

Do you guys honestly think people reading those nicks will think you're cooler than you already are (which is by no means saying that you were cool in the first place) just because you have a 'catchy' tag to your nick? I'll say this in as nice a way as possible: NOBODY BLOODY CARES ABOUT THAT TAGLINE, IT WILL NOT MAKE YOU COOL, IT WILL NOT GET YOU HOT BABES IN HOT PANTS, AND HOW ABOUT THIS SPORTS FANS, YOU WILL DIE ALONE ANYWAY!

okay. That's off my chest. Time to get a cup of tea.

mayomyth_+-=dying alone=-+_

post scriptum: I feel so much cooler. Darn. That thing works.

INTERNET!! WOOHOO!!

my house is now a civilised one. we finally have Internet access. Sheesh. after a month of being isolated, the great Bulldog in the sky finally deemed us worthy of his favour. Damned mutt.

Held an Eid open house ove the weekend. We budgented for about 120 guests, although by the look of things, it was more like 120 guests and their distant relatives. As somebody once said, "if something could go balls-up, it probably will". In this case, many things did. Like the fact that the 'nasi himpit' was not 'himpit'-ed enough, overbudgeting of food resulting in gross wastage, the kind that'll probably make even americans blush, and lack of sleep due to sleepless nights spent making the bloody thing work.

But hey! it was good fun. for about half an hour or so.

Mood: Neutral

THIS POINTLESS EXISTENCE

I get it. I complain too much. I just have no motivation to study anymore. I can't see myself as a lawyer in 3 year's time. I don't know where I'll be in 3 year's time.

But on the bright side, I've settled in my new house, with new roommates, new problems. Sigh.

Nothing new to write about. Even after a month. Shows you what a miserable life I lead.

Mood: Negatively-pessimistic

GOODBYE TO ALL THAT (WITH APOLOGIES TO ROBERT GRAVES, WHO MUST BE TURNING IN HIS, YOU KNOW, GRAVE)

From today onwards, I will, in my on-going journey to perfection, be more positive in my outlook. Okay, it's not like it's a big step, but those who know me will attest to the fact that I am unfailingly a pessimist. Not any more. From this moment on, I shall be known as Happy Ahmad, much like the Spring-Heeled Jack of fame.

Oh wait a minute. Wasn't that the nickname of Jack the Ripper?

Hmm.. Maybe a positive outlook isn't such a good thing. But I shall nonetheless give it a go. Anything's better than this angst-driven existence that I call a life. Heck. Maybe I'm too old for angst. I think at some point in time, angst simply ceases to be cool and becomes rather like that 45-year-old guy with a pot belly living in his mom's apartment still thinking he's the man but with nothing to show for it apart from a couple of bed-sores and a dream of greatness, dreams that seem to drift further and further away from him as if swept by a river unseen, as the lonely nights pile up on top of him like clods of earth being thrown into a grave, suffocating, blinding, deafening silence of his own anger.

Yeah. That's the spirit. The first step to recovery is accepting that you have a problem. But I'm not that 45-year-old guy of course. I think he'd be the future version of me, if I don't kick off this habit of feeding off my anger. Either that, or I could be the next Robert Graves, or perhaps even Siegfried Sassoon. Unlikely though, unless I learn to write better.

Note to self: Stop hating your future landlord.

Current read: Black Death to the Industrial Revolution: A socio-economic history of Britain

Current mood: Pissed and Bored.

HERE WE GO AGAIN

Sorry for the long gap between posts. I've been too busy with work, applications and general clutter to post a blog these past few months.

Oh wait. Work, you say? I can hear the naysayers saying, well, "Nay!". Ahmad doesn't work. Well, I did. For two whole months. And in return, I received a measly 300 bucks a month. The future doesn't bode well for an aspiring lawyer in Malaysia. Maybe it's karma. But then again, I thought the essence of the whole karma idea was that bad people get reincarnated as lower-level life forms or sumthing like that. I must've been some really evil, rotten, downright despicable person in my past life. Maybe a driving instructor or something of that ilk.

I hate applying to law firms for a job. It takes the best of six or seven hours just to complete the form, not to mention the time wasted checking up on the stuff and the countless hours wasted infront of the computer doing research on the firms... and for what? I've lost count of the number of computer-generated rejections I've received over the past few weeks. Still, I should count myself lucky to get an interview at Clifford Chance. However, I'm still pissed with the rest of the lot so here's my bitching over and done with:

FRESHFIELDS BRUCKHAUS DERINGER, HERBERT SMITH, NORTON ROSE, ALLEN & OVERY,EVERSHEDS, SLAUGHTER & MAY et al... YOU SUCK!!!

I know. It's lame. But hey! As they keep saying in their letters, it's nothing personal. I just hate you guys.

FOUR MEMORIES AND A WEDDING

My friend got married in Ipoh yesterday. Congratulations Acong, if you're reading this. Hope you guys have a great life together (though I hardly know your wife!). It was such a surprise to see Acong... he was so HUGE (and before any of you get any ideas, I am NOT gay!). I remembered that he was always quite big anyway, but seeing him yesterday was still a shock. My, how people change when you're not looking, especially if you've turned your eye aside for the past six years or so.

It was nice as well to see my other friends whom I've not seen for oh so long. A lot of em are married already. One's actually teaching in Malacca right now. Funny.. I never thought that Fahmi Miskon would turn out to be a lecturer, but there you go. Shows you how much of a clairvoyant I am. Fahmi or 'sukun' as we called him, was somebody who, shall we say, liked to ride without a saddle. Or go au naturale. Let's leave it at that. :P

Went there with Feud's car, hence it was the perfect occasion for a 3-hour nostalgic reminiscing session. Feud was a really close friend back in KMYS... I spent quite a lot of time in his room playing Final Fantasy VII. Hadn't seen him for four years up till then... I suppose the difference between a true friend and a "hi-and bye" type is that no matter how long you've been separated, once you get together it'll be just like it was before; no awkwardness, no difference.

Speaking of KMYS, I love that place. Sure, there were some painful memories associated with it, but hey! I grew up a lot there. Seeing Puan Raha again was good. Hearing that she was happier now was excellent.

It's good to have a place to come home to.

My Indie Project

Talked to a friend a couple of days back. He's doing something along the movie-making lines lah, and he's actually freelancing at a post-production house in Wangsa Maju. He asked me about whether I was interested in making an indie movie. At the time the whole idea seemed nonsensical to me, but now when I've thought about it a little, it seems like a good idea. After all, I was always the one complaining about the comparative lack of outlets for my oh-so-great creative side. ;P

So I've thought about a couple of things that might be interesting. At this point, I've come up with two themes, one uplifting and the other depressing but revelatory (I think). The first deals with the question of whether it's better to dream and risk it not being fulfilled or not to expect anything at all and to be content with what we have, explored through the medium of a boy's mind growing up in the kampung of the 70's and his relentless exploits to win the love of a much older girl named (at this point) Jamilah. I won't bother to deal with the second one at this point,it's not as well developed. Tell me what you think.

BACK WHERE I BELONG

I'm back in Malaysia. Sure feels good to be home, to stay in my own room again. Is it just me, or are flights getting more and more boring? I spent the whole flight doing a bloody crossword puzzle. Even the movies suck. The only movie perhaps worth watching was maybe Starsky and Hutch, but the thing is I've already seen that movie. I mean, come on, "Girl Next Door"?? I'd rather watch the bloody Teletubbies smother each other with pillows.
Forgive the moaning and the excessive use of somewhat foul language. I've been reading Vernon God Little, a good read, maybe I'll do a lil review when I'm done with it.

Latest read: "I'm not scared" by Niccolo Ammaniati. A good book for those trying to recapture the lost beauty of childhood. It's translated into English from an Italian text, so I suppose some of its magnificence must have been lost in the process. Nevertheless the translator manages to capture the essence of the childhood terrors and thoughts that make that period of our lives the so wondrous. 3* out of 4.

House-hunting

Life is like house-hunting. Just when you think everything's going your way, when everything seems perfect, that's when you have to be extra careful, for usually that's when life decides to throw you a sucker punch right in the nosh. Usually it's really painful. Like when the landlord tells you that your dream house is already off the market.

Call me cynical, bitter, whatever. I'm not a bitter old hack. I am the product of that complex equation called experience. To my eyes everything has a hidden meaning, so that you always have to be on your guard. I guess the time may come that I shall realise that it may perhaps be better to view the world through rose-tinted glasses of our desires, but that time is not now, and I can't see it happening in the foreseeable future.

"Men have PMS too", somebody said that on the tagboard i think. True, but I think ours are triggered by specific events rather than specific times.

But then again that may just be me.

My Boring Life

Well, in the aftermath of the 'battle of room 12' we no longer have internet access in my place. So here I am, in an internet cafe in Baker Street expressing my thoughts. My parents are here in London; we're holing up in one of the apartments nearby. Which kind of explains why I am in Baker Street too.

I've been stuck in my room for the past couple of days now, reading up on Equity and Trusts. You never really know the meaning of boredom until you've read the thing you're supposed to read at least 10 times, repeated it in your head at least 5 times , and (if you're lucky enough) find a sod unlucky enough to be within earshot and polite enough to pretend to listen to you rant about the thing at least once a day. In this case, the unlucky (and extremely polite, I might add) sod is my sister. Merci. And a lot of that too.

I think I am an intensely boring person.

I COULD SERIOUSLY KILL SOMEONE SOON (well.. not THAT seriously)

Anybody who knows anything about me would know that I'm not too happy with my roomie. Well.. this morning things came to a head. He was the guy who was in charge of the Internet acess in our house, and naturally when there was no internet connection, the first thing I did was to ask him about it. I actually needed to access my uni webmail, because I had a sneaking feeling that there was a revision lecture today. Well there was, but I digress. In any case, I asked the guy in a normal, polite manner about the connection. He didn't answer me at first, so I repeated the query. He then brushed me off with a curt, "I don't know". Well... another thing that those who know me would know is that I have a short fuse too. So I decided to take a shower, but not before giving him a retort to the effect that he's not the only one having exams. I went out, had a shower, came back and turned on his computer myself so that I could do something about the internet connection, since he's obviously not going to do anything about it. He then came back into the room, and at the same instant, I accidentally hit his speakers as I was turning around. He then glared at me, and said, "Why are you taking it out on my stuff, then?" I mumbled something to the effect that it was an accident. Hours later, while he was still out, I thought I was a bit rude too, and it WAS a bit thoughtless of me to get into a row with the guy on the morning of his exams. So I left him a note on his table, saying I was sorry about all that, and that I didn't mean to get into the whole mess before his exams.

Guess what he did when he got home?

He brushed the paper aside, and has yet to say anything to me.

So I am sitting here, typing this rant of mine, witnessing my note of apology still probably unaccepted trashed by the side of his table.

The difference between me and him? We've both got short fuses, but at least I have a conscience.

And I'm also better looking. :p

Trustees... my most hated word.

Two blogs in two days... man I must reaaaaaaaly be bored. I think I started studying a little too early this year. I'm currently very much exhausted by it all... and running out of steam too. I've noticed that this happens every year. The nearer I get to the exams, the lazier I get. That's NOT a good thing.

Current read: powers of a trustee to maintain a minor, and power of a trustee to advance capital to beneficiaries. Boring, huh?

Mama and Papa's arriving soon. Hopefully that'll sort out my laziness. Have to buck up, starting now. I think I'll take a shower first tho.

But before that: Have you ever noticed that (and this perhaps only applies to those Malaysians in the UK, and still studying of course) we never get to enjoy the best times of the year, since during that time we're stuck in the house memorising stuff we won't even care about in 2 month's time?? Exams suck. Period.

I hate the fact that those who want you to do something/ be something else never say it out loud. It's always concealed behind a facade e.g. "Oh, I don't mind you wanting to do that, but wouldn't it be boring though? and why the sudden change in interests anyway? I thought you always wanted to do this, and that etc". You end up having to justify the decisions you made. Not that anything's certain anyway. What I decide now will probably be of little relevance in 10 years' time. But it pisses me off that people want to have a say in what I am, in what I become and they don't even have the decency to come out and say it. The former is enough to piss me off anytime; the latter though... man, this sucks. Am I being paranoid and neurotic? You tell me... I'm the one Nadia called a "younger version of Woody Allen". Although I think I look better.

Long time no blog!

actually i don't see the reason why i should. Nuthing much has been happening. Oh, apart from Nim's visit to London... which ROCKS!! I know. I 'm sad. My whole social life revolves around her. But hey! Who cares?

Starsky & Hutch was kinda nice. Shaun of the Dead was even cooler tho. Next stop: Kill Bill. Tho i think that one might be a disappointment... hopefully not on the same level as the Matrix farce tho.

I think I use 'tho' too much.

Non-charitable purpose trusts. Charitable trusts. Trusts & the family home. Hyde Park in summertime. Not a good combo, unless u're into dozing off at intermittent periods.

Everyone's getting on my nerves lately. I don't think it's possible for men to have PMS. Or is it?

latest read: re-reading "The remains of the day" by Kazuo Ishiguro. Highly recommended.

Constructive trusts... vehicle of the devil!!

Spent the day revising resulting and constructive trusts. sheesh. These things are massively boring, but ya gotta do 'em. Why is it that judges take 25 pages to say that when a trustee puts himself in a position where there would be a conflict between his personal interests and that of the beneficiary under the trust, any profits arising from that action would be held on constructive trust for that beneficiary, even in the absence of dishonesty on the part of the trustee (or any other fiduciary person)? They could've said so in just a sentence. In fact, I just did. :P

Maybe I should be a judge. Then again, maybe the fact that I can say so in only a sentence makes me somewhat under-qualified to be a judge. Hmmm... Which came first, the egg or the chicken?

Why can't Man Utd win again? Why did Rio Ferdinand have to be so unprofessional as to miss a bloody 'piss-in-the-bottle' test? Why oh why am I a Man U supporter, you may ask. Well. Just.

Brighton rocks... not.

The first thing he said to me was, "Please don't call me Mr. Sufian... it's just 'I' and 'you' between us". Of course, he said it in Malay. What's thepoint of me being an interpreter if he speaks English, anyway?

He was a Malaysian patient in Millview Hospital, a mental institution. I was there to help him get through the Mental Health review Tribunal hearing. Sadly he wasn't discharged. I thought he was basically an okay, if slightly weird and emotionally undeveloped, guy. Sheesh.

My exam is in 2 months time... no more procrastinating!!!

Well.. maybe later.

Rectal foreign bodies.. it's so funny it hurts. Ow.

Well.. it's official. I'm now part of the trend that is blogging. Hopefully it won't die out too soon, coz then I'd be left doing something which nobody finds fashionable anymore, and people will be saying, "oh look at that guy! Doesn't he realise that nobody cares what he has to say?? Blogging's not cool anymore, and besides, is this a pointless ego-inflating exercise??"

See what I mean when i say i think too much?

Actually i don't care if no one reads this (well, i do actually. Just a little.) It's 12.20 am and i have to be in brighton tomorrow. I can't sleep. I keep thinking about so many things. Like how things were much simpler when I was a kid, when I was a teenager. All I had to worry about was my studies... even then i didn't have to worry abt it that much. I guess i was lucky in that sense... things (most of them anyway) come easily to me. Stuff like economics... those were my forte.

Nowadays.. *sigh*... i don't know anymore. Those of you who know me will probably think "he's still hung up over mel, i guess". I don't think so. I just want to be in a place where everything is simple, and you can feel safe sleeping at night knowing that tomorrow will be a good day. Like when I was in MRSM, the only thing worrying me was whether we'd get chased by the warden for skipping compulsory stuff, like group exercises etc. Like when I was in KMYS.. well.. there were practically no worries there.

Talked to my sis over the phone just now. She said I was cyclothermic (?).. I don't know how to spell that term (or even if I got it right!) but supposedly it means that I get depressed easily, though it's nothing like clinical depression. Ahh well.

It doesn't help that the only person who could make me feel safe is halfway across the world.