Warrior

     The sound of gunshot crackled through the crisp cold morning air.  The bullet penetrated through the misty dewy darkness of twilight, escaping into the vast emptiness, beyond auditory threshold.  It signaled the fresh start of a long 21-kilometer run.  Tens of thousands wobbled at their feet, their toes still slightly cramped from the morning cold.

The senses orchestrated themselves to lots of things happening around.  The ears captured all that was there to hear: the endless chatter of the overly-excited crowd, the rapid pattering of thousands of feet, the resounding siren of the police, and yes, the gunshot.  The eyes looked ahead… and about.  They saw people in orange vests in front, beside, and behind.  All running on their feet, their faces twitched by the lack of oxygen.  The sweet, small mouth – it gasped for air. The lung expanded and contracted at normal pace in intervals.  The Chambers of Life pumped slightly faster than usual.  Little drops of sweat trickled down the tiny pores of the skin, dripping onto the ground.

There she was, a young woman not over 20, running on her two feet, not too fast, not too slow, a speckled dot among the entire lot.  It was her first half-marathon in her life, and she was determined to make it.  Not that it was impossible; she had exerted a bit more than an hour on the training grounds running ten kilometers.  She mentally repeated to herself that she just had to go slow and take it easy.

It was only 4AM.  In the blank state of her mind, the young woman felt extremely refreshed.  Nothing crossed her thoughts.  She was so relaxed.  There was no sign of pain as she swayed left and right (that was the way to run, right?) and her heels hit the ground.  It seemed so utterly effortless.

But no one knew.  No one knew what the dear child had gone through, that only seven years back, her very life had hung on a thread.  That thread was about to snap if it were not for her seven life savers, all crowded around her in the surgery room with their green overalls on.

It had come from the back.  This big vehicle, a lorry probably, was speeding down the empty road with hellish swiftness.  A young, fat Chinese man was behind the steering wheel.  He had a companion at the back, open-air end; was he Malay, Chinese, or Indian no one could remember.

The companion was sitting at the back, but he was not sitting still.  He was frantic – but, good Lord, why?  The two appeared to be rushing from someone, something.  In all the hullabaloo, the driver did not even notice the young girl walking in front of him.

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Photo credits to Faizan Khiyani. Make-up and wardrobe by Alicia Ai Leng.

    She was just right in front of him, you know.

In a matter of seconds, everything happened.  The lorry slammed the girl down.  Her right shoe slipped out of her foot and flew off, landing distances away.  The impact forced the young woman out of her gait too,  and she landed on the ground with a thud approximately a hundred meters away.

Nonetheless the lorry did not halt its brakes.  It just went on as if nothing had happened.  It would have sped off if not for the traffic lights – and her younger brother as well.

The small thin boy ran as fast as his skinny legs could carry.  He wanted to stop the driver, and he did.  Stupefied by the horror that had occurred right before her very eyes, the boy’s mother stood watching.  The little boy made the driver’s companion hoist his motionless sister into the vehicle.  He vehemently directed the driver to the nearest hospital.

That night was a night of desperation.  As the heart monitor gave out its timely beep, doctors worked on the body, half hoping, half dreading; the child’s mother sobbed uncontrollably in devastation, and her brother did his best to look calm, although signs of overwhelming distraught showed in his eyes.  Friends and neighbors came to console the mother, but it seemed hopeless.   Finally the main surgeon walked out of the OT. “She has only 25% chance of survival.”  That was the last thing anyone wanted to hear.

Her spleen was removed – at least a huge portion of it – and her lung too, for it was completely lacerated.  Her blood capacity was below 50%, and her ankle and rib cage were fractured.  She was now very pale and thin.  Her eyes were shut close as her spirit breathed on and on, considering whether it should hold itself together or simply give up.

In the dire circumstances, her spirit fought through a tough combat between Life and Death, between the real and the Void.  It battled to keep the girl alive, her dear heart beating and her lung breathing.  Her warring soul never stopped for weeks on end.

Yet just when everyone was almost losing hope on the beautiful child, her beautiful brown eyes flickered open.  There were a few more battles, battles that were not as tough as the one before, but were still battles.  First she lost her voice – and then it came back, slowly, gradually.  Then she had to learn to stand up; she fell hard onto the ground so many, many times the searing pain shot through her feeble spine and left her semi-paralyzed for a second.  Next she had to learn how to walk again.  On several occasions she fell headlong on her crutches as she hobbled through the corridors of the hospital.

Nonetheless, she conquered each and every fight.  She grabbed hold of the crutches – and no, she did not hobble along anymore.  Rather, she walked the crutches swiftly, as if she were carrying the crutches with her wherever she went.

Finally, she let it all go.  She left her crutches behind and started taking small steps.  Before she had even mastered the step, she went ahead and started running – or jogging, more like.  It was very hard at first, but Sabrina always believed in allowing herself time to grow.  She did not condone in pushing herself far too much.  And run she finally did.

Today, at the age of 25, the young woman has not stopped running, although not competitively.  She has completed 21 kilometers in two hours – her first half-marathon – and she swims 10 laps in her condominium pool regularly.  She is now a month short to her bachelor’s degree, and is working on her first start-up, Brainiac Laboratories.  She aims to do her Masters too, with a focus on clinical psychology, and finally develop another startup concentrating on personality development.

Life is about firing one’s passions up to the maximum.  There will always be the inner struggles and the external ones as well.  Nonetheless, these come together to put the pieces up and make up the being as a whole. You just decide one day to grab your life in your hands and steer your own way.  It is about harboring a Spartan spirit, where the strength of the soul overcomes every war it faces with honor,dignity, and perseverance.

Red Scarlet

 

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Birthday

November rains are back.  Everyday it is raining, raining, raining.  The skies are crying, weeping tears of bittersweet joy.  Massive clouds of whitish-grey matter cover the sky, creating a reflecting gloom that shrouds the earth.  Some twists must be taken, must they not?

Even the air is set with a dewy mist.  Winds blow, though not too hard.  The ground is moist; in some places it is damp and soggy from all the wetness.

The wisps of mists fill the air as it evaporates, awakening the senses – perhaps with a start – and the soul, with a renewed vigor, skips along the sidewalks in merriment.  For through pain, through jagged maps, through persistence it came through it all, and is still coming, on its way.  One day soon it shall be no less obvious, because its dear heart would thump with powerful beats along to the tune of the music whispering in its ears.

An afternoon in downtown KL. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

An dizzling afternoon in downtown KL. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

November is a beautiful month, the time of the year when Mars and Pluto cross paths and stars collide.  It is the time of the year of every other year when little baby scorpions emerge from their eggs and take their very first crawl.

Oh!  The clock is ticking, and I am running out of time.  I must put on my birthday suit.  For in a few minutes I am turning 24.  How old can I be?

I am in oh-so-deeeeep love with the month of November.

Red Scarlet

PS:  This post was written a few days prior to the author’s 24th birthday.

Dirty Little Secret

Shush. Don’t tell your mother.  Kiss one another.  Die for each other.

In the midst of the gooey mass of grey matter in the prefrontal lobe stands a huge army of Spartan soldiers with their spears sticking upwards in the air.  They are prepared to fight, prepared to conquer malaise, to combat for Truth.  For the mind is a wondrously dangerous place, and white lies are in constant battle with black lies and dirty little secrets.  With a tweak of a passage of signals, the entire perception alters somewhat drastically.  It gives birth to a thought, an idea, and though in its embryonic form, it still has the capability of enveloping the entire physique, covering the subtle pores of the skin with its vulnerable coat like myelineated sheaths of axons.  It hydrates the thirsty soul; it instigates a certain craving for – a little cocaine, maybe?  Fervently spreading throughout the entire breathing creature, it begins to speak aloud in the creature’s own voice.  But how weak the mind is!  Yet it is capable of intelligent choice.

Secret Garden. (Photo courtesy of Twitter)

Secret Garden. (Photo courtesy of Twitter)

A long time has past since I last published my work on WordPress.

It is a superficially busy time for me because, after this semester, I have only two more to go.  Then I shall finally graduate.  It is critically important that I do well during these last few months because I plan to sit for masters. Not only that I am working towards developing my own organizational objectives with a music business unit.  It is not easy to do this single-handedly, but I am fortunate to be able to work with other entrepreneurs as well.

It truly is one last stage for me to get by.  I admit it is tough because I am now handling everything by myself, from tuition fees to organization structure to this little powerful drug – writing – that I do every now and then.  I am consummated by exams and university projects and meeting new people.  Every now and then I am hurled into Dreamland, where I am trapped in an extremely tall tower waiting for my knight in his white horse to come around and save me of course.  At the very same moment, Time is graciously ticking away.

It definitely is fun to form mutual friendships with people and organizations, especially those who would be able to help out in the event that it is necessary.  As part of entrepreneurship all that stress that comes along with it – hopefully it ends successfully.  I want it to be a success of course!  It meaning everything.  Which encompasses education, my job, my friends, my family, my life – everything, god damn it.  All these are the work of a lifetime.  These are all my Paradise.

Don’t tell anyone.  It’s my dirty little secret.  Can you keep it?  Because I am fine with it.

Red Scarlet

P.S.:  I am quite happy being a woman.

Tik Tok

The time has not arrived yet.

And when it comes, the butler shall open the huge oak doors.  The Lady shall step out in her five-inch gold heels, and glide across the path to the Mercedes Benz waiting at the other end, her beautiful dark red hair brushing against the wind, and the satin ruffles of her long black dress sweeping lightly along. The chauffeur shall step out and open the car doors for her, and usher her in.

And then the Lady shall go on a journey deep into the unknown, but she shall not be worried, for she knows she is in safe hands.

Not every Tom, Dick, and Harry is capable of comprehending my writings;  it takes one of considerable wisdom, I suppose.

Does Time wait for you, or do you wait for time, I wonder? (Photo credits to Ekamil Razali)

Does Time wait for you, or do you wait for time, I wonder? (Photo credits to Ekamil Razali)

Yes, I am aware time is ticking by.  The minute hands are sweeping away by the day, and at each forward move rocks of obstacles are hurled my way.  Yet it is only the code by which this intangible thing called time works.

The effort spent – time itself, and energy as well – it shall not go to waste.  When I wrote The Blitzkreig, I meant it.  When I wrote all the other posts after that, I meant them too.  Whilst I have been busy sharpening my swords of authenticity, I have been through nightmares too, where pots kept clanking and alarms kept ringing perpetuously.  Probably I was faced with a paradigm shift, but no, not that I deny it, however it absolutely is not so!  It has been like this until someone came over and shook me tlll he woke me from my bad dreams.  Just saying.

Tragedy befell the poor, pretty mind, and it purged out a loud: “Oh!”  Nonetheless, the neurons still decided to head on to the party instead together with the protons and the electrons.  Together, they downed high doses of whisky, zapping all the way up and down through the cranium, and left with empty bottles lying on the dance floor.

And emerged as one from the doors more silent, solemn, and whatever else, with their minds readied for mental combat.  The thing is that every time after something bad occurs, a bigger, brighter thing is churned out.  At least, that is the general idea most people think happen.

Time to jump in the ship, and start flying!! Woo-hoo!!!

Red Scarlet

P.S.: Turn up the music loud, please. o.0

The Write Project

My mind has been loitering on a wandering trail for the past few months.  Not that my lips cried, but my brains could not keep their silence.  It was as if life edged by a rocking boat in turbulent waters, and all the soul could possibly do was sit and watch.  And think, too.  Perhaps.  If it were possible.

In the joyous reunion of the family, I felt my essence sui generis slipping away, bit by bit, into the stark madness of reality. More and more I was drowning away in a plenitude of data, most nothing but cold hard facts, and facts, and facts.  And then came the time where I was asked to ask myself: What am I doing?  Where am I heading?  Is this what I want to do? For the last question, of course, the answer is undoubtedly clear – yes, of course!  But how?  What?  Why? Where would I lose myself to?

It is agonizing, considering the workload I am facing, and yet it is simply a part of the process. Which path was I walking?  Whose path?  What did I want, inherently, in the end?  I was always in the have-to, but no-time situation.  But I shall not deny that worklife has absorbed a great deal of me, so now I am hard at play retrieving it.  It was as if I been prancing about in a drunken stupor, but nevertheless the questions kept on pressing endlessly.

Stop, stop, stop.  Please!  This echoed through my head.  It had to, correct?  It is probably my identity crisis as a psychopathic writer, where I let go of all responsibilities and allow myself to explore.  And explore I have – I am still at it, to be frank.  Anyway, it is safe to say that I have been hanging around the wrong loop, and therefore it necessitates me to make a reverse turn to continue the walk.  Or the run, rather.  I have been using much time.  This year, however, my writing has brought me to another level, and I am required to prepare write-ups for website content.  It is not exactly what I want – for I really, really do want to grab hold of a drama director by the wrist, and demand that he allow me to screen-write.  JS (which stand for just saying).  But my emotions speak for themselves.  I have been waiting much too long.

Slowly, though. All the exploring and traveling has made me immensely sleepy.  It is necessary that I listen closely to my heartbeat – no distractions!  Ihrer haben ein solch guten tag.  Und ich liebe dich.

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Laughter

Maybe I am a little insane.  This I confess.

I just got back to my burrow after a good jog at the nearby track.  It was slightly longer than usual; and here I am referring to the distance covered.

I increased the number of sit-ups and push-ups too.  As I headed out to the nearest 24-hour store, I started feeling a recurring pain in the cardiac muscle.  Oh no, I thought.  Not again.

The first incident came about more than a year ago.  It lasted for just a few minutes – but it hurt enough to claim storage in my mind’s capacity.  Enough to teach me plenty of values.  Of life.  Of the self.  Of the people around me – especially those I care for.

I drink at times, but I have never placed a lit cigarette in my mouth.  I am quite proud of the fact that, each time I hit the community pool, I complete ten full laps back and forth.  Non-stop.

What I have absorbed in my mind has taught me so much about life’s worth.  I have, as of date, already discovered the cause, and in the process revealed the conclusions altogether.  It is not that I wish to vye for fame.  I have simply accepted the dry facts.  Now I just intend to… prolong my lifespan a little bit, perhaps?

My quickest, and also easiest solution, of course, is laughing.  Laughter, after all, is the simplest and most unconventional method of healing.  Among all other forms available, laughing is such a natural remedy, especially for the pain in the heart.  I laugh at anything and everything, so much so friends and colleagues gave me a cute pet-name (that I shall not reveal!).

Yet I see this as a positive activity.  An array of happiness oxytoxins jetspray themselves into the bloodstream from the glands, every time that occurs.  They squirt out and rush off to the cheeks, giving them a soft, rosy glow.  It catalyzes the heartbeat by just a wink, and here even a wink helps.

There is, I presume, of no use, because the Chambers of Life beat so diligently… but no one hears.  And so, I churn out my music on the paper.

Laugh for all of heaven's sake. (Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Laugh for all of heaven’s sake. (Photo Credits to                            Alicia Ai Leng)

Spill it out.  It is now very close to 3AM, and I have a class at 8.30AM later.  Let’s just laugh.

Red Scarlet

Fly With Me

I may not be exactly so much – no, not in adequate proportions – but yet I consider myself an extremely artistic person.  I like to imagine my little notebook as my guitar where I play my notes on.

Call me crazy… maybe.

There is nothing wrong in that.

What goes on in my mind you do not know.  And say what you wish, I do not mind even.  I do not even know what matters are playing in your head.  Really.  Our perceptions are not all similar.

Uh-huh.

I assume I must have gotten so drunk over my music, for it depicts the buried treasures of feelings beneath the sweetly adorned grave, however deep down they may be from the surface, washed off in the rain and thunderstorm and covered by the dampened, soiled earth.  Events that go by do not oftentimes (I do not know why, but I dread this word – oh, yeah, that is out of topic so I shall bring it up later) make sense.

Nonetheless, there exists a factor in the human nature… a component known as resilience, that makes us stand so far apart from one another.  The factor that puts us up on our two feet constantly, always chasing our dreams, big and little.  That sets us running forward, never to be pulled back, climbing ountains so high and diving into seas so deep.  That seemingly brings us so close to our pinnacle  by only an inch, only to have it snatched away by another Dream-Chaser.  Which we drown ourselves into, only to watch it melt slowly away in all the heated commotion.

But we just go on our journey in a more lighted path.  We can’t stop.  Because we won’t stop.

I am like… yes!

Come.  Fly with me.

Confidence is one big part that keeps us going.

Confidence is one big part of us that keeps us going.  (The Author when her hair was still untreated.  Photo credits to photographer Ekamil Razali.)

Red Scarlet

Love Drunk

You might, if you meet with me, find me strange, for I have just listened to my ringtone list and discovered a bit of inspiration from there for my university project.

So far I have conjured up three women in love, and vying for the the attention, of two men.  One of the women has a panic issue and appears to fall into hysteria anytime (“My heart is but weak!”).  Another woma is very adamant about her choice and goes out her way to “claim”  her man (“I do not care! Leave him to me!”).  The other girl is a pessimist, or otherwise an optimist (“There are other fishes in the sea, my father used to tell me”).

Thus Woman A a.k.a. the Hysteric has fallen for a tiny little man whose voice does not yet seem to have surpassed puberty.  In fact, he acts a bit too gay for a man.  That is just how Jeremy is.

Then there is also Sean, for whom Miss Catwoman has a thing, and with whome Miss Catwoman is very much in love.

When it comes to movies, films, plays, dramas, and the like, what really matters is the script.  And then the cast of characters, the actors and actresses.  What prop and set-up required because these are crucial for the enactment of the drama about to set forth.

LoveDrunk

Love is a muddled mess in reality.  But when it comes to the movies… I lick my lips.

The cast resembles my puppets; but here I move my actors and actresses without twitching a single muscle.

Well, let us just wait and see; the classes are not to begin until next week.

Red Scarlet

What Drives You…

Caltex?

The engine of your life (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

The engine of your life (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

No, not quite.  It is a source of energy that fuels our motives; but it certainly is not black and it is not slippery, and it is not pumped out from the rich earth below.

Do you realize how everyday I wake up to this realization, deciding that this is it, the very thing that keeps me going – because my life is not going to last, but my deeds will.

So will the rest of the people I know: Friends and family and whoever else I find dear to my heart.  They are worthy of the smile you give them everyday, of the hearty laughter you share with them, and of the care you shower them with.

To accept the fact, however dreary it seems, with an ever tolerant spirit, brings the joy in me.  Yes, life is not perfect; it is not a complete bed of roses.  But knowing that it does not last settles me with the reason to treasure every moment of it.

Some past research which really got extremely serious in the end, into the matter itself, yielded in some pretty horrific results.  It provided a lot of insight into Death and all that is associated with it.  And that, gathered with all the hard facts and statistics revolving around that data, as well as the play of life events that take place before my very eyes, is more than enough to make me who I am presently.

The knowledge, or rather the awareness, that you and I will one day vanish into the ethereal, is what keeps us going.  Just that sometimes we are too busy to notice.

Of course I think differently.

Red Scarlet

As Time Flies

Welcome 2015.

As the minute hand turns, seconds become minutes, minutes into hours, and hours change to days, days into weeks, months, years, and eventually decades – O, how much longer before the story ends?

Emotions lay covered, as if shaken by water; yet in the quick moment of silence, I retract back whatever plans I have constructed in the past, however recent they are.  A thorough view out the window, and I decided that certain tactical plans must be trashed to the bin, for the lack of time.  It is my final year after all.

Truth is, there is only so much time in one’s life to care about every single thing.  It is to my conscience that I admit that much time has been unfortunately been put to waste due to lack of deep comprehension of particular matters.

It is nearing, although not absolutely so, the end of one adventurous chapter.  It is so close to, “And here comes the tricky part.”  What I speculate… adventurous hikes, deep plunges, and high dives into the unknown.  Aye, there is a plethora of excitement I sense in the air.  So much of it as I plan on a goal-directed year.  I do not and cannot permit anything else to perturb my aura, my plans laying themselves toward a particular road.

On with 2015, moving towards drama and music and therapy of the psyche… what am I waiting for?  It is going to be a year of growth, a time of beautiful memories, and yes, merriment. It is also going to be a year of love, forgiveness, patience, assertiveness, perseverance,and ultimately, success.

I choose to be… determined.  Bald du sehen!

Red Scarlet