Pages of a book

The Mossy Forest.

2009-06-15T22:18:00.014+08:00

Through an old forest road I ran. The cool air of Cameron Highlands swept over me as I panted for breath, listening to the soft patter of my feet on the gravel.

I found myself passing through a small stretch of road that the trees covered from the sky.

Then, I saw it.

Cavelike, a muddy path through the forest climbed, then disappeared up over a ledge. Was this the way?

Pulling my gaze away from this surreal gateway, I shouted to my brother, who had gone ahead of me. My mother appeared from around a bend in the road.

"Hey mom! Look at this!" I pointed.

Plodding through the muddy earth, I trailed my mother and brother. Carefully navigating over fallen trees we advanced through the mist and foliage. It was not long before my mother stopped in her tracks and gasped. Could it really be?

-----

We found it.

-----

The Secret Life of Scott Fuller.

2009-05-28T15:09:00.003+08:00

A question from a past year IGCSE English paper:

Everyone thinks you are an ordinary teenager, living an ordinary life. No-one knows, nor must they ever find out, that you have powers which can only ever be used fro the good of humankind. Write about a day in 'The Secret Life of...'. [25]

----------

I stood at the entrance of my school. All around me, kids trudged along toward the big orange building.
“Goodbye mum. I love you.” I said, and meant every word.
“Have a good day son.” she smiled, and drove away.
During roll call, when the teacher called my name, I only lifted my hand. There was no verbal reply, like all the other kids who cried “Here!” to accompany their raised hands.
At lunchtime, I ate alone. The table to my right sat 6 girls. They were chatting, with occasional giggles about some handsome boy. To my left, there were 8 boys who were furiously discussing “X-Men Origins: Wolverine”. I longed to join them, to speak, to communicate with others my age. But I was scared.
My name is Scott Fuller. I am 17. I’ve often overheard many a complaint from my peers about how their parents never listen to them. I have a bigger problem.
People always listen to me, and no matter what, they always obey.
I don’t - and probably never will - know how I came upon this power. It was sometime when I began adolescence. I discovered that my commands were never disobeyed.
That evening back home, news broke that terrorists had taken 17 people hostage on the second floor of a building just six blocks from where I lived.
“Forget about me.” I told the taxi driver after I had got down and paid my fare. I quickly walked on.
A crowd had gathered around the building, watching the spectacle as the police laid siege to the building.
Dressed in a grey sweater, a hood pulled over my head, I made my way over to the nearest policeman I could find.
“Please take me into the building by the back way.” I shouted at the top of my voice. When we had reached the back entrance, I said to the two policemen stationed there, “Let me in.” As I entered, I said, “Forget about me.”
I was alone now.
Going up the flight of stairs, I took every step slowly. It was so quiet. I found myself at the door of the second floor.
‘How big is the room?’ and ‘Will they all hear me from behind this door?’ were questions that entered my head all at once. I took a leap of faith.
“Drop all weapons! Surrender to the police! Release the hostages! Forget about me!” I shattered the silence.
Back home, I was still shaking when I heard a newscaster on TV announced that the terrorists had tamely surrendered themselves to the police. I was glad; I would never use this power in a petty situation.
My father was an alcoholic. He would sometimes beat up my mother when she wouldn’t give him the money he needed to buy beer. “Your father loves us. He just... has this problem he can’t face alone.” she once said to me.
I now understand.
“Why don’t you just go and die?!” I had said one day in a fit of rage. He had smiled kindly and left.

----------

What do you think? Badly written? Award winning? Too corny? It's really only supposed to be 350 - 450 words, but the essay above is a re-writing. The first one got a 10/25...

People going nowhere.

2009-05-26T21:39:00.002+08:00

I don't know how to write this.

So I'll draw.

I Sprained My Ankle

2009-02-28T18:35:00.001+08:00

A few days ago, I sprained my ankle.

During badminton training, I was playing a doubles match when I jumped to hit the shuttle and landed wrongly. A bone wobbling sound was heard. "What are you doing on the floor, Brian?". I found out I could hardly put any pressure on my left foot without it hurting. I don't even know if I got the badminton point.

The next day, I went to a doctor who gave me some lotion to rub on my ankle and a bandage to support it. A few of my fellow tuition-mates tried using my crutches (which were handed down to me from my dad) the correct way or as a gun.

I remember having sprained my ankle once before. It was at Holiday Villa, the hotel we go to play badminton in. Nope, I didn't sprain my ankle then. We got bored of badminton and I was with my cousin and brother at the bowling alley. What was that? I twisted my ankle while rolling the ball? I wish. I was chasing my cousin around the table. He grabbed a chair. Threw it in my way. Bang. The irony...

Anyway, my crutches make it hard to carry anything at all or go through small gaps. They also hurt my hands and armpits. They are clumsy, occasionally banging into objects around the house. Going up or down the stairs also proves to be quite dangerous. I have to sit when wearing pants or jeans since I cannot stand on my left foot.

These things happen.

'A' for Art

2009-02-02T20:52:00.005+08:00

Two days ago, a letter from the British Council came for me in the mail.

November last year, I sat for my O-level Art exam. (You can read all about that here.)

I got an A.

Thank God...

Rather ironically, my brother seems to have beaten me to publishing a post about this.

Justea

2008-12-12T18:59:00.002+08:00

I don't know why I drink so much of it. Maybe I'm addicted to it. Or maybe drinking it has become some sort of a tradition. Either way, every time I go to a coffee shop, I will usually order it.

Justea incorporates (or tries to incorporate) green tea with the regular line of fruity flavours. My favourite flavour would be white grape (whatever that is) with aloe vera bits. I never really bothered to look at what they put in it. Oh well. It really tastes a bit too sweet for me, but the ice most coffee shops so kindly provide help me to dilute it. What I like, is the aloe vera bits, firm with just the right bit of crunch.

Like I said before, I don't know why I drink so much of it. It's not THAT good, but, nevertheless, nice. I guess this goes to prove that I am easily satisfied when it comes to drinks, or just don't care. I don't even like green tea.

Not for a long time

2008-11-15T15:08:00.005+08:00

4-Nov-2008

Today i woke up around 6.30am. My body instinctively flew off my bed. A great light encircled me. I squinted. Today, I felt something I had not felt for a very long time. My mind played over and over...

'O' Level Art Exam.

Since Std 4, I have never sat for a formal exam.

The day before, the middle finger on my right hand suffered a badminton accident (courtesy of my partner) to the first joint from the knuckle. It had bled enough to dye my finger red from the first to second joint by the time I took the trouble to look at it. I'm not the kind to believe in omens but it ached whenever I clenched my fist. I am not a sissy, but I DID have an art exam coming up.

Wounded digits aside I would say I was quite calm compared to my art teacher, parents and sibling. I now quote my brother.

"These exams are hard on everyone... Except you!"

My serene demeanor started to fail me the day of the actual exam however. During the trip by car to the British Council where the exam was held, I found myself going through the details over and over. How the placement of objects should go, what steps to take and what equipment I might have forgotten were all questions I interrogated myself with. I must say I wasn't that nervous though, because when all that was said and done, I fell asleep. I then reached the place, enjoyed a nice breakfast at The Cofee Bean before entering the room marked "Silence Please".

As soon as I entered I noticed that they expected me to paint in a carpeted room, but my concentration was needed elsewhere. I stared at a tennis bag. It stared back at me, its contents spilling out of it so it looked more "Artistic".

Before the exam, the thought of an invigilator invoked pictures of very nosy people who patrol back and forth with an occasional stop to bend over and look at your artwork. However, due to the fact that the room opposite mine held candidates sitting for a Physics paper, as well as the fact that there was only one invigilator... he was a rare sight.

I had also pictured myself in a room with more people. There were 2.... Including me. Issac, a 19 year old chap sat at another seat painting plants. A nice guy. Painted the background with the kind of brush used for walls. I still wonder why I never thought of that...

Looking through the box of paints, I found out that I didn't have black. Turned out I had switched the black paint cap with the Prussian blue paint cap. Thank God... Scared the **** out of me.

Despite this, to my surprise, I was quite satisfied with the way my work turned out.

Scared of chicks.

2008-07-22T17:21:00.006+08:00

Today, I found out that I'm allergic to chick peas. It started when my mother bought a bag and popped a few into my mouth.

Nothing happened. So I started eating more. After eating about 10 more, my mouth started aching slightly. That's how I found out.

Some time ago, I found out I'm allergic to a certain breed of yam. I've inherited this attribute from my biological mother whose hands itch when she handles those yams. I know that she IS my biological mother because:

1. We both share the same allergy.
2. She says so.

I am not adopted.

Things I sometimes think about.

2008-07-08T20:20:00.013+08:00

An example:

-"I wonder if it was a boy or a girl..."-

*stares at a dory fish fillet*

...

Oh well, they taste the same anyway...

Speechless

2008-06-17T20:35:00.009+08:00

It's hard to stay mute , especially if you possess a big mouth OR an older brother bent on thwarting your efforts. My brother had both. Today, he started on a project that required him to experience how a mute person feels when he's... well, mute. The duration: 4 hours.

Not wanting it to look bad on his record, he started again after his first try was deemed imperfect due to his absent minded utterance of the words, "Where is Dad?".

All was going well in take 2 until dinner, when he spotted an object in his dory fish fillet that, as most dory fish fillet eaters would know, shouldn't be there.

"Bone!" he exclaimed.

I laughed out loud.

Just one word! Forget a perfect record, he wasn't going to start all over again!

He slouched.

I told a joke.

He laughed. Spilled water on his T-shirt.

"You made me spill!" he uttered.

He hopes to try again tomorrow. The object wasn't even a bone.

Try finding the dark blue dot.

2008-06-11T12:52:00.006+08:00

Use whatever way you can think of.

Can you find it?

Just because you can't SEE it, doesn't mean it isn't there.

2008-06-10T17:12:00.003+08:00

See?

Minesweeper.

2008-05-06T23:10:00.003+08:00

Maybe you've heard of it, maybe you haven't. Most of us (or was it just me?) have forgotten it was there altogether even though it could have been sitting right beside one of its more popular siblings - free cell or spider solitare. Nevertheless, I seem to have taken a liking to it.

It's back.

2008-04-30T13:22:00.003+08:00

I hoped it wasn’t.
I wished it wasn’t.
I prayed it wasn’t.

But it was.

Munch, munch, munch… Bang! It was back.

I gotta stop sleeping at 12.30…

Munch, munch, munch, GAH!

(For those of you who have no idea on whats going on, read the other post I posted on the 24th of January 2008.)

<3 Happy Valentine's Day =D

2008-02-14T23:53:00.003+08:00

2008-02-12T11:03:00.001+08:00

Just some test I remember reading in a chain mail.
It went something like this:

Try naming the colours of the words below.

red blue green purple grey blue purple red grey green purple grey red

Now, try reading the words themselves.

Which can you do faster?

Did you know...

2008-01-29T14:33:00.000+08:00

That my mother slashed our mango tree repeatedly in order to blackmail it into making babies just so that we could eat them? O.o

Munch, munch, munch...

2008-01-24T14:39:00.000+08:00

I start on a piece of delicious murtabak.

Munch munch munch. Munch munch AUGH! This has to be the fifth time today!

It started during dinner yesterday. My dad said it was probably because I was tired. Oddly, it is still happening today.

Munch munch munch. Munch munch YEARGH! I bit my lower lip -AGAIN-!

Munch munch munch...

Badminton Training

2008-01-13T00:55:00.000+08:00

9th January 2008

Badminton training started that day.

I learned new skills, or rather, proper versions of my old badminton strokes. I discovered that with proper strokes, I need less brute force and use up less energy. I learned how to lob, do forehand lifts and backhand lifts.

I then played an 11 point game with a girl who was a regular trainee at the training academy who was very serious and practically shaking with anxiety. Her anxiety caused her strokes to be inaccurate and lost her many valuable points as she fumbled here and there.

I, on the other hand, had learned the three proper strokes that I had yet to master. The rest were homemade. When I started to play, I tried and failed to utilise the new strokes. After the first three points, I gave up all dignity and started playing my own way. My final score was 10.

After that, my brother and I went for what our mother thought was cooling down. The exercises were supposed to help you avoid getting muscle injuries after the training. We hopped, did push ups, duck-walked and many other weird and strenuous exercises. It seemed my mother was mistaken. It was actually stamina training!

If you have ever have gone through one of these trainings, you might have found yourself out of breath, shaking in the legs and perhaps gasping for water with no strength even to open a bottle cap. I couldn't even get through it all due to my asthma history.

That was the first day of my badminton training. I look forward to more training.

Except the part where they train your stamina.

An Announcement.

2008-01-03T14:17:00.000+08:00

I would like to wish all visitors to my blog a Merry New Year 2008! That is all.

Superglue

2007-12-27T17:39:00.000+08:00

The Youth Impact Camp 2007 was held somewhere in the jungles of Melaka. Although most of us dreaded climbing about 50 steps every time we had to get to our dorms, the clean and stylish facilities, the mouth watering food served daily and the many playful, tame and cute puppies and dogs that kept us company, more than made up for it.

The camp was titled Superglue and its objective was to teach us unity. When we finally got there after a long ride in a bus, we were given nifty booklets and then briefed on the camp rules, told who our team members would be and so on. One of the more "interesting" rules of this camp was that in order to retrieve a lost belonging from the camp commander, Rachel, you had to go through the sacred rite of holding the belonging in both your hands and solemnly promise that you would not lose it again.

This particular camp proved to be a physically active one. Most of the activities required a lot of running around here and there. We were blindfolded, put through heat and cold, forced to trek in the night, had water balloons thrown at us and the lot. Praise God, no one got injured, unlike last year.

Some of the more interesting games involved venturing into an eerie run down structure simply to find a letter. Another required us to build a human pyramid of at least 10 people just to reach a banana. We had nine people on the ground and one on top. In another station we were all blindfolded and one of us purposely got left behind by the facilitators while the ones who didn’t were told the parable of the lost sheep. One of our facilitators retrieved the lost member of course. Another station involved doing 19 mathematical equations and adding them all up together. My group’s first answer turned out to be more that three times bigger than the correct one. However, we were so determined to finish the equations that we had to be forced to proceed to the next station.

The worship sessions were also spiritually awakening. However, during the first part of the camp I could hardly hear God at all. It wasn't until I chose to give something up that I could hear him clearly. I then was able to worship freely and really connect with Him. I think God really spoke to us at this camp. The devotions were pretty eye opening as we talked about the body of Christ and how each one of us is special. The reason we have to be united is so each one of us can play a part with our talents and gifts with Jesus as the cornerstone.

During my term as one of the leaders of team Brue Corrour (No this isn't a typo error), I have learned a valuable lesson. I was active for the first day but on the second and third I completely left it all up to the other leader, Krystal. I felt useless and unable to do anything. Our team was far into the losing end. I simply gave up. Things seemed hopeless.

However…

In one session God told me that perhaps winning wasn't that important. The real prize was the lessons we would all learn from being in a team. When I looked back I saw that it was not so much my inability to lead that caused me to fall but the inability to persevere. So during the last devotion, I confessed that my inactivity had probably contributed to the reason we were losing and vowed to do more from then on. So on the fourth day I took charge and gave my best. Even if we did ultimately lose, I could take it graciously. We got to know each other, friendships were built, talents shone, and we appreciated one another. We were united and took back so much. And this was the light that shone through the darkness.

Of course, the camp finally had to end... ever heard of a camp that didn't? :D I learned a lot. In fact, I learned so much that words fail to express my sense of victory, a thing that does not happen often.

Thank you Lord.

Another of my drawing....

2007-12-11T19:58:00.000+08:00

A soft prayer

2007-11-30T20:13:00.001+08:00

I was attending my church prayer meeting on the 28-11-2007.

When it came to prayer time, we were all divided into groups. It being one of my first few times in a church prayer meet, I admit that I had reservations about praying aloud. Nevertheless, I told myself that I must find the 'courage'...

Finally, I plucked up the courage to pray aloud just as someone in my group finished praying. I launched into prayer... However, I noticed someone looking at me. Then, the person seated next to me kindly told me that someone else was already praying.

'What? Really? I don't hear anything', I thought, a little embarassed. I listened more keenly and lo and behold... a soft voice floated from the opposite end of the circle I was in. O.o' I could actually hear much better the voices of people praying in other groups.

The other person probably started praying while I was plucking up the courage to pray aloud. Good grief... I shall have to listen carefully before I start praying aloud, next time. XD

November 10th, 2007

2007-11-12T14:12:00.000+08:00

Yes. It was the day when 40 000 or more Malaysians of all races marched in the streets of KL, turning them into seas of yellow. The people of Malaysia walked and many cried out, "Democracy". Like Joshua did with his priests and people, Malaysians were crying out, to bring down the walls - of silence that have for so long surrounded Malaysia!

Hundreds of police and the FRU were deployed, chemical laced water was blasted, tear gas was fired. It was war! Not the kind where crude weapons are fired (Well... actually... erm... well it wasn't the marchers that used them *cough cough*).

It was not for the freedom of the slaves but freedom of democracy!

In fact, it was so massive a rally and march that my friends and I coming from Subang Jaya got stuck in a bad traffic jam as soon as we tried to use the Federal Highway on the way to our Youth Group meeting in PJ Section 13. We had to turn back and return home. I felt ecstatic (not that I didn't like my Youth Group). But the march was really working!

DEMOCRACY!!!

A random thought

2007-11-11T20:30:00.000+08:00

Have you ever seen your parents (or found yourself) overeating just so that the food does not "go to waste?". Honestly, overfilling yourself with food isn't my idea of 'saving'. No, you won't be saving any money whether you eat it or not, but you WILL grow fat if you do. Sad... =.=

Who I Am

2007-10-30T11:20:00.000+08:00

I write this because I dare not speak it.

You probably wouldn't see (hear, actually) me talking about my feelings, life and personal thoughts. I am an introvert.

I know it's ironic that I am shy of homo-sapiens despite being one myself.

I talk; but not as much as other people.

I feel; but I try not to show it.

I sometimes walk around aimlessly because it's better than standing still.

I do not talk crap or deeply with people I do not know very well.

I have lots to say. I just don't say them...

I often wish I could. Maybe one day I would.

Random Drawings

2007-10-29T20:33:00.000+08:00

I like drawing.

I used a WACOM tablet pen and drew this on the computer.

I will upload more as time goes by.

The Sane, the Insane and the Liar.

2007-10-23T11:22:00.000+08:00

Q: What do you call a guy who says he is insane?

A: A liar

Reason: If he really is insane, he would not know it; so he is actually sane and lying. However, if he really is insane, he would be trying to lie, as he's saying something he does not know nor believe in.

I'm reading an interesting book, Catch 22 which inspired me to write this post. I personally find it a very complicated book. I'm having trouble remembering some of the complex characters simply because they are complex characters...

Our Hot Air Balloon

2007-10-22T22:53:00.000+08:00

Ok, so maybe my family does not own a hot air balloon, but unfortunately, we have something shockingly similar to it.

No it isn't a plane, a balloon or even a basket... It's ... a car.

When my family needs to go out for dinner, we hop into our 'hot air balloon'. I would then ask, "Where are we going for dinner?" My dad's answer would often be, "Don't know yet."

It is painfully silly to drive around not knowing where you're going. You drive South and halfway (it's kinda hard to tell when you don't actually have a destination), you have a sudden craving for chicken rice and have to make a U turn and drive North.

Yes, the resemblance between a 4 wheeled land vehicle and a no wheeled aviation basket is... shocking.

When you get into either, you never know where you will end up.

10 reasons why I hate the rain.

2007-10-01T12:29:00.001+08:00

1. It turns what would have been perfectly dry sand/soil into... mud.
2. It gets you wet and things stick to you.
3. It gets in your face, glasses, eyes etc.
4. It causes accidents.
5. Its noisy.
6. It turns the day gloomy.
7. It conducts lightning which trips your power supply.
8. It causes floods.
9. It gives you a cold.
10. It makes the trees grow.

One reason why I dislike trees...
They rain... leaves.

(Personal note: Its ironic I know, but right smack in the center of my garden stands tall an almost fruitless mango tree.)

The Separation

2007-09-27T10:29:00.000+08:00

No... It couldn’t be... It just couldn't be...

Was what I did that wrong? It was just a small breach of regulation. One small breach, but the price was life.

I would be separated from my computer.

My mind swirled like a sickening whirlpool in the depths of my brain. I wanted to protest, but my mouth wasn't functioning; it too was in shock. There was no way out from this terrible fate. After all, I have a very, very stubborn mother.

My mind raced. I could try to sneak into the world I longed to be in; but it wasn't possible, for the only entrance was being guarded by the watchful eyes of my mother and even if they turned away, there was always my traitorous brother. No, if I got caught, the penalty would be even more severe. What about... negotiations? Oh, but who was I kidding? But it was the only way and I was desperate.

I should have known better for the gatekeeper was relentless. There was no hint of pity in her merciless eyes. The conversation was unreasonable and tyrannical but above all, impossible. There was always a tomorrow, as the condemnation lasts only a day. But there was always the haunting question…

Would I last that long?

Light and sound theory

2007-08-27T16:06:00.000+08:00

Quote:

Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people seem bright until you hear them speak. -Brian Williams