I guess my personality adapted to being alone, and now not being alone just comes with this certain awkwardness that shun people off.

Do I want people to be away? Or am I just waiting for someone to care just enough to get through this hard shell I made, and ever since– been living in.

I guess, selfishly I’ve been wishing they’d suffer in my absence just to feel better for myself that my presence is of something essential in their lives. Then again, my mind tells me to stop caring about such things– thing is, I don’t understand how my mind suddenly flip from putting companionship on a pedestal, to perceiving it as something not worth caring.

The flipside of this is that I’m coping better in school. This may not be related to the fact that I left social life (or what I used to perceived it was to be) but I am improving. Though this could also be because I just gotten myself a night job, which in turn, leaves me no choice but to manage my time or life as it is, would crumble.

It’s just that, its something I’ve been thinking about for quite awhile. I didn’t really have a choice to leave the social life that I had. The feeling of ostracism was overwhelming. I was also pulled out from the managing team of ambassadorial group of my school (most of whom are those whom I perceived to have, social life)

That doesn’t mean I look down upon those who have a slightly quieter everyday routine. Something of the ordinary. I’ve gotten to appreciate the quiet side of life (besides the craziness of school assignments, and my night job) I still had time to foster better bonds with some people. We may not be best of friends (title which I still think, I’d never get to have) but we work together well.

So am I just someone people meet in their lives to co-op in work, and if there’s no work, there’s no bond? I don’t get why some people get to hang out and even when having no reason to do so, still do it anyway just because. Is it just me thinking that there have to be a reason, and that hanging just because we need to hang out isn’t a valid reason. What are we supposed to do when we hang? .. Here’s when my mind goes blank.

Thus this leads me to a conclusion. And a confession. I am an introvert. stuck in layers of self-placed lattices of extroversion made over the years. I, the introvert have become what I wanted to become, to be outgoing as an extrovert. I say so therefore I am. But even this have a flaw by which I am usually not what I say I am even though I seem like I am what I say I am.

If only

If only Effy’s real. Known as Effy; Cute guy Tony’s younger sister in Brit Telly series called Skins. She’s one of the main character on Season 3. I’m hooked on to Skins for like, a few days now. No don’t worry, there’s only 10 or less episodes in each seasons and there’s only three seasons. Effy’s so goddamn friggin’ hot. Envy those alluring eyes. I really think I’m a sucker for pretty eyes now. I should be worried. ‘Cause tonnes of beautiful eyes in Ngee Ann Polytechnic. I might get myself hurt, you know what I mean?

The intervention of such made the society blog in bite-sized posts, no more than 140 letters. Which kills the art of weaving a beautiful captivating post out of your memory at the end of the day.

But who says Facebook and Twitter isn’t art.

Twitter, the art of capturing every shard of your life.

Facebook, the art of continual assessment of one’s profile so you’d get updated with friends that you’ve been longing to meet. It bridges and connects people with the spice-up of having to observe one’s page filled with answer of the sacred question,

“What are you doing?” or “What’s in your mind?”

Does this mean there’s no use for the bag?

‘Cause every cat’s out.

Something's just not right

The convention centre begins to get filled up by people. Mixture of young and old so we can’t really assume those are just students. Hey, of course there’s such crowd. It’s the Graduation happening this week. Flocks and flocks of students in gowns or I’d say, robes as they flapped their oversized sleeves while they’re waking up the bloody hill to the convention centre. Oh yes, the hill is named bloody! (:

So I left as soon as my 2D Art class ended to be at the convention centre. From the start of the day- Actually, from the day the gown’s at my house, I’ve been planning something. Something’s zany. My sister walks off as she’s done with her plastic smirk for the flashing cameras all over. People capturing memories. Their faces capturing more wrinkles. She’s done our parents proud. To be the first one in the family to achieve a Diploma. The only other were two of our cousins who achieved their Diplomas in NAFA.

Slid off her shoulders, she puts on the robe on my back and let me wear it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. Ever since I’ve seen the robe up on the hangers as it sways, beckoning me to wear it. It feels, achieved. accomplished. Successful. Yes, that’s probably the word.

I’ve jumped to another course, so while my previous classmates are graduating in the next 2 years, I have a year more to wait. But I’ve got a sneak of the feel. And it feels great. It smells funny though. Is that how success smells like? Or is it just thousand graduates perspiring inside their robes? Hopefully it’s the latter because I don’t want to be caught dead smelling like armpits if smelling like one is a core requirement to be successful.

Imagine. Imagine my graduation.

That emcee better rehearse his/her words because he/she would be dead if my name is pronounced wrongly.

PARTH-PARTHABAN son of….*knn*.. Kaneh.. Kan.. Sorry

PEK RUI XIANG

I sympathized Parthiban s/o Ganesan.

I might be More Har Mutt Art Chelin Bean Is Mail ):

Dear God

I wish my graduation would be memorable but having my name pronounce as I want it to be. Proper. Thank you. I’ll lay off the cigarettes, the alcohol and  procrastination for a week.

Kidding! Make my graduation, THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE. And I’ve already said “This is the best day of my life”  far many times so looks like I’ve set a standard God. Hope you can bring the stakes higher (;

Love

Muhammad Adzreen B Ismail

“Hello. My name is Adzreen. And I’m a sucker for charity.”

“HAAAAAAAI AAAAAAHZREEEEEEEEEN” The group droned.

Imagine.

Imagine you’re married to a lovely wife, bears lovely kids. And due to financial shortage, you had to go abroad as the breadwinner. Situation is harsh at work. Days under the terrible weather. Hard labor. Just to earn a few changes for your family to survive. You cannot go back home because you signed a loyalty contract for 5 years. You have no choice but to lie to your family that you are living large overseas so they won’t get worried.

A Bangladesh man smiles as I turn to see who tapped my shoulder.

” ‘ello. Know how go chachukang?” With immensely Indian accented, he asks me.

“CHOA CHU KANG!? That’s far, you know. You have to cross the road. Take a bus and change to another bus. Ninety nine here then take One-Seven-Two to Choa Chu Kang.”

Pulls out a soiled-looking EZ-link card, he explains, “Aaaah card no money. Know how walk Choa Chu Kang? My transport missing. I from Jurong Island. Want go home. Choa Chu Kang. Know how walk Choa Chu Kang?”

Imagine. With all that is mentioned above about having a family back at home, depending on you to survive. And on top of that, the harsh condition at work. And now this, getting lost in a country you’re not familiar with. I’d just give up life but I admire this man’s determination and resilience.

Without hesitation, I pull out my wallet. Two dollars left and it’s Tuesday. That means I’d have to survive three days on just two dollars which I am about to hand to the man who don’t mind walking from Jurong West to Choa Chu Kang. Who knows he already walked here from Jurong Island.

My dad once said, “We earn, not to have it to ourself. What we earn, are meant to be shared to everyone no matter rich or poor, good or evil. Because what they earn, are meant to be shared as well.”

I helped a man. Not just to save him from walking from Jurong to Choa Chu Kang. Not just to have him home safely. I helped him to not lose hope in life. Just with two dollars as bus fares.

Despite the hell you’re going through, someone will sympathize, someone will care, and someone will help you, because this hell won’t last forever. So don’t end your life and regret not knowing what blissfulness there is waiting after all the suffering.

Caught it unintentionally because I just wanted to catch up lost time with my group of friends and I heard they’re catching the mentioned hyped up movie, so I guess, why not? The first installment was a killer; visual effects wise. Well, I guess the plot was okay; very predictable.

The second installment! War Machine made his first cinematic appearance! Of course, that was one of the few reasons why many were so eager to watch Iron Man 2. I didn’t quite like Don Cheadle being Terence Howard’s replacement but it’ll make do. He’s fine, but I was just imagining that he isn’t that dark with those huge nostrils. Okay that was mean.

Well, anyway my intention was to review Iron Man 2. For someone who don’t follow the comics, it is a solid plot. Captivating and the visuals still does blow my mind away but hey, I actually expected something better compared to the first one because, it felt like I was watching the first one instead.

I can tell you what it lacks.

It lacks suspense and the element of surprise.

And I guess the villain needs to plan before he strikes because he was defeated so easily.

Let’s revise on the Batman series then.

Batman Begins was awesome (Slightly bias because I’m a big fan of the dark knight). I mean comparing to the previous series made long ago, remember Tim Burton’s versions? I liked how Christopher Nolan made it darker and ominous with more practicality. And do you remember how you feel after you got to watch The  Dark Knight? Remember how satisfied you were after you marvel at Heath Ledger’s dying role of the maniacal arch villain and how twisted his plans were!?

That’s what Iron Man 2′s missing.

Satisfaction.

Imagine life. on stage.

Staged entertainment today were spectacular;

The TIES by Stage 52 at Lecture Theatre 26

and Lady Gaga’s performance of Bad Romance and Alejandro on American Idol.

Although two VERY diverse staged performance, both rendered me speechless.

TIES.

I did not expect such marvelous work from students and it made me really proud to come from the same Film And Media Studies faculty. It really brought up FMS students’ morale. Wait, Ngee Ann Polytechnic’s students’ morale. I know most of the casts personally and some of them, I didn’t really know they could pull off such an exceptional act. Nonetheless, it was breathtaking to watch and a great addition to their portfolio, like seriously!

Don’t get me started on Lady Gaga!

FIRST OF ALL, this performance proves that all rumors saying Gaga had amputated her leg is false.

In your faceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

*Trying to stay composed*

Anyway, Gaga have never fail to shock me and drive me off my seat with her out-of-this-world performance. I even agree with my brother that she’s an alien. Along of Michael Jackson!

Enough digressing, I’ve always been wondering, why are all Gaga’s performance so.. creepy in a sense of her choreography, stage setting and the enquiring endings. Blood gushing out of her abdomen in her performance on Video Music Awards last year and now, the weird angelic statue with Gaga reaching for it at the end.

Sometimes, I really think the Illuminati conspiracy regarding all these acts as symbol of freemasonry is true. But sometimes it’s just bull.

How I wish I could pull off such an extravagant performance. I guess I’ll just stick to my aptitude in design to awe the world.

Active.

Imagine the world where everyone speaks without emotion.

White screen.

Scene 1

The frame pans from the nothingness to a black door as it creaks open. Mark stomps across the empty white room and recite monotonously,

“I am very angry. Furious.”

Scene fades to black.

Scene 2

Fades back into a scene at a busy city where everyone are suited in tuxedos; conversing with not a single hint of emotion. Everyone looks similar. The cool black shades. The crisply iron -pressed black suits. Short neat jet black hair. The roads; identical black sedans zooming pass the streets. The buildings; big tall blocks uniformly arranged within the city.

Scene 3

A bright red shoe steps on the smooth concrete floor of the city. Azrn in bright checkered shirt and worn out jeans, walks through the ocean of tuxedos; his brunette wavy hair flows with the wind as he strides across. Everyone who bumps into him starts to cheer; filling the street with exuberance. Stripping off their blazers to unveil the floral patterned shirts, the high-dye tees. Buildings he passes by morphs into an antique architectural monuments.

The world starts to fill with diversity.

Hello world!?

It’s the world who say hello to the colors that I am about to introduce to it.