Words fail to emulate the excitement and adrenaline rush when I chanced upon this trailer.

I know what I'm going to suggest the next time my crazy gang of friends ask what to do on a weekend.

I'm going shooting zombies...

They say the first impression, being the most lasting preliminary assessment of a person, object or place within the first few seconds of initial acquiantance, is the most important.

I tend to agree. How many of us have been a victim to such circumstances? A bad hair day; an introvert personality; a slurred word out of context; a button out of line; a bias born of uncertainty; stereotyping, all seemingly perfect reasons for an individual to rate another poorly or negatively.

Humans.

We are gifted with higher intelligence and empathy. And yet, we will write-off a beautiful alabaster wall within miliseconds, because on this most unfortunate of unfortunate days, a speck of dust had to land on the pristine wall. We cry imperfection, we offer comparisons, and we convince ourselves that there has to be an inherent flaw for the wall to have invited such impurity onto its otherwise perfect facade.

We are afraid. We are paranoid that there isn't enough time to get to know the wall better, and every other wall after that. We make assessments on the go, and criticise on the double.

Lions and other predators are afraid. They are paranoid that there isn't enough time to get to know the antelope better, and every other prey after that. They make assessments on the go, and decisions on the double.

Humans have long ceased the need to hunt for survival. Agriculture was the greatest survival skill taught. Suddenly, you didn't need split second judgement on when to spring the trap. You nurture the soil, water the seeds and wait patiently as God's bounty present itself from within. What seemed a tiny and insignificant seed, dull and grey, is able to bloom to the most magnificent of wonders. A tree bearing luscious fruits, a delicate flower exuding fragrance, a blade of grass whistling in the wind.

I feel humans found agriculture by accident. Acting on their first impression, they would have tossed the undesirable seed from the juicy flesh of the fruit, unwilling to spare another fibre of their precious mind to its existence.

The seed proved them all wrong. A large tree offered shade and nourishment for generations to come. Sturdy and tall, it stood proudly against all odds.

We say beauty is skin deep, never judge a book by its cover and other mumbo jumbo to disspell this addictive ailment that is first impression. Yet, we continue to indulge in it.

While simple beasts had learnt long ago that first impression counts as nothing, as the young prey could be better at escape, even as they may not run faster than an adult prey, humans continue to chase these illusions to no avail.

Humans. You can only watch them silently and sigh at their fallacy. When they stop running, hopefully they will notice the seed on the floor, and the beauty that they stand to miss, because of a lousy first impression.

Have you ever made someone cry before?

Now, I don’t mean being mean and nasty to someone, resulting in hurt feelings and gushing tears.

And I certainly do not mean self mutilation or destruction to the point of disappointing your loved one, or just breaking their hearts.

I mean touching their lives. Giving them the best surprise of their life. Watching teardrops of joy, and not sorrow.

You know what that feels like? You know the warm feeling that tingles across your very soul when something like that happens?

Well, I had the wonderful privilege of experiencing that on Friday. It took some effort, plans made since a month ago, a dash of faith from all the initial hiccups, and a lot of determination. All sweat and trials aside, the result far, far compensated for all the hard work.

( ’Background )

Because it is moments like this, basking in the warmth of friendship (and perhaps a little glee in having whipped up one heck of a pleasant surprise), that one is truly convinced in the art of giving, and in the sheer pleasure of receiving. The look of happiness, the laughter shared, and the satisfaction of a job well done. No money in the world would buy those things for you (although money did buy the means to the result).

I am proud to say that I made someone cry recently.

With the help of more than just a handful of people: some pretending to be all tough and emotionless, some clueless to the significance of their simplest of gesture of contributing funds; all suckers for happy endings, because the world needs more of those.

*The author highly advocates the exercise of making people cry happy tears.*

I recently came back from Langkawi, fresh from a 3-days-2-nights Las Vegas style holiday. There was sun, sand and cheap booze. A cauldron filled with possibilities.

It was the department's annual trip, my third one since I joined (that's a perfect attedance record!). Despite being skeptical about the event, I must admit to having enjoyed myself, even with the second day marred by a frightening bout of headache and feverish temperature.

I liked the whole idea of a duty-free island, where the imported goods becomes affordable, and there's still a good deal of sun, sea and sand for that tropical feel. I only regret not being able to appreciate the island more.

But all the better perhaps, I am sure I will be coming back. Probably bring a group of friends and go nuts over cheap drinking again.

Or maybe I prefer a quiet, romantic getaway. Having said that, there are better islands that come to mind for such an excursion.

Recently I have been using my cash reserves more. I realised that slightly bitter aftertaste of seeing smaller numbers in my bank account is rightfully trampled by the sheer feeling of living life. Last time, I always shook my head at the immaturity of splashing cash for quick thrills. I still stand by the concept of never burning money unnecessarily. But I have gained a new appreciation of the finer things in life. Good food, great ambience and excellent company. Some things in life are worth spending. And worth spending alot.

Even more recently, I went to my friend's open house. This is another perfect attendance on my record since I started working. Every year, we go over before lunch, have scrumptious food and then hang out in the house until late. We may then adjourn to the nearby mamak, or just head home, whichever fits the mood. This year was a little different for me. It makes me think of time and the future. It reminds me that we are celebrating someone's birthday at karaoke next week.

I am beginning to lose a concrete sense of time. I worry less about the future; I hold less to the past; the present is lived to its best, and every day feels like a different chapter.

I remembered why I set up this blog...

I remembered thinking a lot...

I remembered putting them down...

I remembered worrying what others thought about it...

I remembered struggling to come out with creative stuff to write...

I remembered only trying to write stuff to make this blog popular...

I remembered keeping thoughts to myself...

I remembered wondering who would care anyways...

I remembered having not enough time to write anymore...

I remembered having enough time, but not the inspiration to write...

I remembered neglecting this blog...

I remembered to update today...

And I remembered to stop being so darn negative. :)

The following comments about the latest addition to Pixar's glorious line-up of animation films are going to contain spoilers for those of you whom have not watched the movie. So do not read further if you hadn't watched it.

Having said that, if you do not have enough maturity, don't waste your money on the movie. You probably would not capture the deep entrenched meaning of this beautiful piece of work.

( Read further... )

Every time I return from Mongolia, it is to new circumstances, evolved environment, changed mindsets and fresh developments. It is akin to leaving the material realm temporarily, and returning at the turn of a season: the landscape, the weather, the temperature, the flora and fauna, the people, all altered by the result of this change.

It was as if my first decision to embrace change, by deciding to take up the challenge of working overseas, far from my usual comfort zone and companions, sparked a chain reaction of modifications and adjustments. The year before, I believed I returned to a more raw and honest view of my establishment of work, and some unpleasantries that goes on undeterred.

With that, came added obligations and responsibilities, albeit potentially social, and not entirely employment related. I was hungry, famished in wanting to make a difference. I hated to see great potential go to waste.

But eventually, there is a numbness that betides the one blade of grass pushing against a horde of locust. Homogeneous ones at that.

So when I took up this year's assignment to Mongolia, I pondered at the changes that would sweep me in a whirlwind of uncertainties. Surely, my workplace could not get any worse, right?

But I kid myself. Circumstances do not magically alter just because you fly North to a land locked country rich in ancient history of what once was an immense empire. Flaws and cracks would have already been apparent, if not potential, in order for it to have manifested.

So in actual fact, I never came back to a different workplace. I merely decided to see more than the field of flowers I painted on my workplace thus far. I, as a conscious human being, chose to find fault, and then the blemishes all made their mark on my once spotless canvas.

As much as possible, I'll stop whining about incompetent middle management and injustice. I'll stop comparing the color of grass on different sides of the fence. I'll cherish all that I have...

...because when I came back from Mongolia this round, I again met change. Yet, this time, she was the loveliest modification to my status in life that I could ever wished for.

There's really nothing wrong with change. It's just whether we see our glass half full or half empty.

It has recently come to my attention that I have returned to Malaysia.

But who am I kidding? The relatively hotter temperature as soon as I hit the airport was a sure sign of that. I had to pray for the merciful wind spirits to guide a breeze past me so that I wouldn't sweat like a pig and be mistaken for an actual swine. (Suffice to say it's tough being a pig these days when there's now a flu named after you)

A self-quarantine commenced where I spent three days in a blissful, lethargic phase. It must have started then, because I lost my sense of time and logic.

Now, please do not confuse this phenomenon with me going crazy. I am, as ever, a being dominated by the mind. So, it is actually a good thing that I am losing some of it. How so?

The mind is a wondrous thing. It can achieve anything it believes in. Humans now travel by air thanks to the first few alien lifeforms perceived lunatics, whom believed that wingless, featherless, technically naked mammals are able to defy gravity, deny any need for aerodynamics, and still lift off the ground.

I don't know about you, but it still sounds crazy now, let alone back then when technology was at its infancy stage.

But we made it. Now Airbus and Boeing cruise the skies like fish in a lake, albeit a very BIG lake.

So is it not right to say that, basically, the airplane was the product of something that did not make sense initially? Even now, assuming we had not invented the airplane, would the idea make anymore sense than deciding that we could teleport?

In fact, I feel Life does not make much sense, or adhere to any logical law and boundaries. Life is like a rebellious child. It does exactly what you do not want it to do.

"Please don't rain...don't rain..." *thunder and lightning ensues*

And even when Life does give you what you want, it is more than compelled to pull the rug from underneath your feet, just as you dropped your awareness. Why the injustice? What injustice? Who determined what was right or wrong? We did. Life never gave a fuss.

Depressed about the insanity of Life already? Yes? Well, I got the remedy to make everything better.

You see, Life is a playful child. It is mischievous and cheeky. Akin to its metaphoric example, it depends on how you look at it. Is the child being a nuisance, or an adorable little thing? Is its laughter of great annoyance or music to your ears? It reacts as would a child to your actions. You need to negotiate with it for the release of your peace of mind, your happiness, and your well being. Resistance, rejection or any other negative actions would be repaid in kind. Monkey see, monkey do. Kids do make good impersonators at times.

So when you look back at your life now, knowing that it makes no sense and will probably never amount to much, would all the so-called misfortunes in your life seem so unfair anymore? You let Life get the better of you, because you believed that everything was supposed to meet a certain pre-set pattern or logical deduction. Life dismantled that belief, and so you let grief and unhappiness replace that void.

As I see it, you are playing right into a child’s dastardly schemes, or rather its clever repertoire of tricks. In the end, it is whether you get all flustered up over a kid’s innocent pranks, or you applause its creativity.

So do you understand? No?

Then you might just be learning something.

The below passage was taken from one of my previous post...

But all journeys are taken for a reason, even though I still struggle to make sense of this one. After that, maybe I will have found all the reason in the world not to go back. Or maybe not. Nevertheless, I will be back.

That much, I can be sure of.

As I come to the conclusion of my relatively short stint here in Mongolia, I can't help but be amazed at the truth of my words uttered before I left my home soil and arrived here on this dusty urban city.

All journeys are taken for a reason.

This one could be more significant than I thought when I first accepted the opportunity to come here. It should have been just another job, although smacked in between Russia and China.

The implications of the events here are by no means life changing, but some decisions perhaps will no longer have to be made.

To speak further would be revealing too much, and the future is always uncertain.

Just like a month and a week ago, when I thought this latest overseas assignment would offer me nothing new.

One of my friends posted this on Facebook, and I had to put it up. It's no surprise I like piano pieces. But this piece with the help of the cello just made it even better.

Then I found out the arranger, Mr. Jon Schmidt has nice pieces too. It was a great blast just hearing all of them.

Music rocks.