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

Best of Both Worlds

Should have, could have, might have – but did not.  I must smack myself in the face.  The daydreaming I have plunged myself into with all the diving through the deepest depths… it is still going to continue.

This is the 21st century we are now experiencing at the forefront of conciousness.  Yet I choose to submerge a bit further through the id and out the superego as I search through the shelves of my memory for those materials I need to put to good use, specifically.

At times it takes me to a particular point in my life when I do know absolutely what I want to write about, but the hand churns up something else.  Which is quite astounding, because till now, I had expected the hand to obey the mind.

But now I shall shut my hand with orders of persecution and open my mind instead.  My love for drama shall be a little more pronounced in all my studies and research.  It is a personal attempt to bridge a conjuction between the subject of the Sciences and the Arts.  That combined with the philosophies if the ancient Grecian fathers and the rich culture of the past… ooh la la; I could have almost orgasm.

     But of course I do not.

Have you tried mixing vodka with a little berry juice?  Or, perhaps, whisky?  It is approximately similar, only that you put your drunken thoughts to print for all to read and ponder and laugh about.

The Masai warriors are stomping their sharply-carved spears onto the ground, their loincloths waving slightly in the hot, airy climate.  Let the leprachauns dance along the rhythm with pretty little green shemrocks under their cute little feet.

Gah!  Add a bit of rum; switch on the music.  Come dance with me.

Red Scarlet


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.


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

What Drives You…


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

Strutting your Stuff

And when you walk, take each step with your head held up high.  Have your eyes set gazing into the horizon, for there is where your treasure lies.  Do not forget, too, to straighten up.  Lift each feet lightly and effortlessly as you glide along with wide steps in between.


Hold your head high, remember.

Hold your head high, remember.

The weight on both shoulders may be heavy, yet always keep in mind that that weight shall not be too much to bear.  Massive clouds of gray shall clog the horizon, but the eyes shall still see Light.

Paint This!

Art therapy. (Photo credits to Mythology Project.)

Art therapy. (Photo credits to Mythology Project.)

Why you so glum, glum
Why you so glum, glum
Ain’t this what you want
Paint this on the floor of this slum
Paint this so you’ll remember
Paint this when you feel like a breather
Paint this to show every other
Person that walks by
Every other person who is shy
That there’s still you and I

Why you so glum, glum
Giddy up and grab your pen
To paint this across the sky