Dog eat dog world

I have no longer the comfort of being in an environment where by I feel loved. With stress at its all time high, with emotions running a muck. People just don't care. Nobody is ever there for me when I need them most. Nobody has the time and nobody seems to care. All they seem to care about is how to make me lose it, make me want to punch them right in their sorry little noses. Being the mature, bigger person really sucks. I can't afford to be nice anymore, I have no fucking time. No time to deal with the bullshit that they call humour, the humour they find in seeing me waste my energy getting mad about. The energy spent ignoring them. The energy I spend trying to counter their immature attempts at aggravation. The energy all going down the never ending sink hole.

I cannot do anything and I no longer have the energy to resist the urge to spill, to curse and despise them, only to their enjoyment, I do not want to take the high road, and nobody is at my defence. I don't even have the luxury of being by myself. I am not in a good place.

GOD SAVE MEEEEEEE
Ez

AS more like suck my ASS

With exams like a tsunami, on the verge of crashing into us students, killing some, hurting most. I find peace through singing. Not choir, not opera. I'm talking power ballades. I'm talking screaming at the top of my lungs, shrieking, "ROLLING IN THE DEEEEEPP....." It seems to work.

If screaming sad love songs isn't your cup of emotional tea try some of the following less, extreme ways of destroying the crashing waves call finals.

1) Go for a walk. Do not walk onto busy streets, it will not only be seriously bad for your heath, it will also be a tough stain to remove.

2) Watch some TV. Do not start a series however. GoT not today you sick bastard.

3) Dance. I have a friend that does a tiny dance every time he cannot answer a maths question. Maybe it helps him visualise graphs better? I don't know, but maybe try it out.

4) Talk to someone. It works okay? Talk about anything, that low-key crush you have, the way you think your balding slightly terrifies you, your immense fear of mortality. Just you know typical teen talk.

5) Sleep. Go get some fucking sleep y'all. Crashing at 4am and waking up at 7 is not healthy. You'll probably end up dead by 30.

So, here takes this and leave. Read a book, maybe the one that might be coming out for your finals?

Love,
Ez

WILDEST WEEKEND PART TWO

We woke up at approximately 1100 hours. 

Yo decided to smoke another joint, we didn't join. We finished Don Jon and ordered Mac Donald's online. What a time to be living. I got a double, spicy chicken MacDeluxe. I pity those that have not had the joy of placing these burgers into the general area of your mouths. After that, Yo got down from the high and we decided we would all smoke up again. Isaac called and said he wouldn't be going to prom. Unanimously we decided that Yolanda would be going.

We spent the entire afternoon buzzed and trying to help Yo decide what to wear. She came very close to not going at least 15 times. I did not have my clothes with me and so all I did was take a shower and did my hair. Karl freaked out when he couldn't decide on a bow tie, or a normal tie. We all were so dramatic. Got a Grab car at about 1855 hours and were told off for making the taxi driver wait for an entire half hour and throughout the ride was passively, more aggressively pissed at our tardiness.

Prom was a whirl-wind of mascara, tuxedoes and Photo Booth cramming. I rushed to the toilets to change after Mr. Botak got handed me my suit. I decided on low-cut socks and unfortunately caused a very uncomfortable sensation between the back of my converse and my upper heel, it came back to bite me as I sustained two of the biggest blisters I have ever encounter, all in the name of fashion. I deserve an award.

I spent my time equally wait at the Photo Booth, and sitting at my table, which was right at the back of the hall, ugh. Prom was a beautiful forest wonderland, with actual logs and moss on the table, spilling forth, ribbons of silver and keys that opened no locks. Bell jars covered glittering butterflies. We all stole a key each. At the very end we had a "sober rave" whereby an alumni returned with the new found skill of EDM. Alcohol was not needed and we jumped to the beat. Blisters ever increasingly painful.

After the pre-after party, I got into a cab with Madonna and Alice, Karl wanted to tag along. We got their hotel, as they wanted to change, and I unintentionally, left my blazer on one of the beds. But, it wasn't till the next morning did I realise that, and so we all took another cab down to the afterparty.

The after party was held in a very classy bar, as there was a bathtub right in front of it. They ever gave us stamps on our hands that can only be detected by a black light, super classy af shit. Got our table, and immediately mixed me a cup of half shitty whiskey and a half coke. There were already people asleep on couches. The music was great and loud and there was a lot of grinding, groping and twerking. I remember doing that with a wall, after drowning an entire tumbler of straight, room temperature vodka. Safe to say, I was drunk.

For me it gets a bit hazy after the songs started to repeat. I remembered Cynthia, crashing into a glass wall, twice. Anon was passed out on the puke soaked grass, another chick out cold on top of several stairs. Puking an absurd amount of liquids and semi-soilds. Trying to comfort a high and drunk Jim equally drunk. My head entirely soaked in sweat. And my friends filled in the rest. I made my move on Harry who was sober and straight and taking care of an unconscious Maggie, first base was somewhat achieved. Drunk me got some serious game. Many pictures confirmed that I am a terribly wasted fool, and I sobered up at about 3-4 am.

Fortunately for us, Yo and I had some of the best friends who stayed incredibly sober to help us bumbling idiots. Tammy took us all back to her house and the taxi ride was at the very least funny to the driver. 6 of us cramped into Tammy's brother's room on a king sized and an inflatable mattress, with three more sleeping downstairs. Tammy was running a literal drunk refugee camp. I changed into clothes that were not mine and immediately passed out right in the centre of the king, indirectly, calling dibs. I slept in between Karl and Tammy with Alan on the extreme right and Yolanda and Micheal on the leaking air mattress.

We woke up to pizza from Tammy's mother. Bless her soul and heart of hospitality. When back to sleep and awoke at around 10 am. We ate a wonderful meal of curry and indian food which was amazing and for desert we when to a nearby restaurant. Me and Yo had to go back and collect our stuff to return to school. The tone was quite somber. We cleared up in the apartment and we took a train back to our expensive prison of education.

It was a great weekend.

Yours,
Ez  

Self-reflection.

"If you ever meet me on the streets someday, and you introduce me to your 'partner', of the same sex, I cannot be sure what I would do, I cannot promise you what I will not do. Remember your values." said my retiring Geography teacher, to the whole class, mind you.

It started off with a probably obscure and 'unique' question on weather or not homosexuals would effect the birth rate of a country. She often rants and goes of track. Conservative, christian lady, never married, model citizen. 

All eyes were burning my back, I physically felt itchy. In my peripheral vision I saw, gazes of sympathy, looks of confusion, and shy, smug grins. Friends shot air hearts towards me, below the tables, Amanda looked on consoling, as a friend is expected too, like a contract signed, its in the terms of a friendship. It always bother me, how things are never a given, never a because so, nothing has a specific result unless it is maths, or "values". You can only be either or, but never both. I wasn't even in a state of shock, I was just numb. It would have been very stupid of me to not have foresight. I knew. But I never prepare. The air of the well-conditioned classroom felt heavier, thicker, as if the air itself had gotten exponentially denser.  

It bothers me, because what I think, my values are shaken. What I believe in is now challenged. And reflectively, I look at the way organised religion, also feels the same way, how their values, mostly formed out of genuine intentions are shaken and challenged in the same way. It was never my intention to make people feel differently about my agenda, but I think again, and I have done what many Christians have done and "preached" about equality. I realised that I am no different from them.  What I thought made sense what I believed in, my values, I have tried to convince to others. 

I now realise that values are not what is important. The important thing is to accept that people will never agree and never understand, because that is what makes us individuals. All I have to do is accept "values" I do not hold and not allow them to be barriers in forming genuine relationships, because our values are ours, individual, and singular. There will never one moment whereby everybody will think the same and feel the same about anything and that is fine. The world would be a hella boring.

I will hold onto my values, you hold on to yours, but it doesn't mean we have to hate each other, and oppress and discriminate. Love each other, and love your values. 

Love,

Ez

Old friends, old wounds

Pause. Stop. I gripped onto the ledge of the well-worn bed. The unusual habit of chewing on my bottom lip, the nonchalance of the matter, and the lack of enthusiasm I had, a slight tinge of melancholy. Why should I be?

 It's not as if I am going to see a person I despise. A psychological grief giver. I was going to see a friend, an old one be it, but still a friend.

 But secretly I know why. 

I never liked my past and that is no secret. The idea of moving forward stopped me from remembering. The way running stops you from remembering anything else. You just run. I sit back down onto the bed. 

The idea of old friends, makes me utterly nervous, because with old friends is the renewal of old wounds. They say that we tend to remember the good things and stop remembering the bad. I tend not too. And it isn't just because they gave me any pain, it's just my memory fused everything into a block of equal emotion. 

I know I fear the irrational. But still I lay in bed. 

My life is a felony. (well not really)

When the whites and the rest of America with their Starbucks, their privilege, their liberty and their big, fat presents in the world announced the legalisation of gay marriage, here in Malaysia, gay people, we shrugged it off. It didn't matter, if your muslim, you will be sent to jail for it. 

And you guys might think, wait this isn't our fault, ha well played European countries, because when you set foot onto Malaysia, you didn't just bring rubber and mining tools, no you guys had to spilt ruling laws, creating an easy way for you guys to trade and giving what little power to kings that exploited it. The LGBTQ+ community is on a surface level, non-exsistant. We live in the constant worry that "religious police" will come hunt us down and throw us into jail, for something that we cannot control. We are still left in the unprogressive backwaters of what the "commonwealth" has created. 

I do not hate white people, trust me I want to marry one. I am not trying to be racist, it is just fact. We are basically powerless and there has been hardly any change in the laws that date back to colonial times. Come on, help us.

Yours,

Ez   

Trump, really?

They told me in history class, the reason we learn about our past is so that we don't repeat it. People of America yes don't you see this is history repeating itself. Hitler came into power at a time when there was economic turmoil, and after the terrible WW1, people were scared and frighten and they decided that the best choice was to elect someone which extremist views. That had very severe consequences. Now I am not qualified to talk about politics but hey I'm only 17. 

But, I dare say we are making a huge mistake. 

Hitler used radical and often risky plans (read his book) to change back the terms of the treaty of Versailles. He lied his way into convincing Chamberlain, and so many other political leaders that every new change was gonna be the final one. Clearly it was not. Trump is also using the same technique with the public of America. He says, “I call it truthful hyperbole. It’s an innocent form of exaggeration—and a very effective form of promotion.” He is also spreading lies. What he calls innocent, is buying into the fear the people have over things such as terrorism and illegal Mexicans. Hitler bought into how people viewed the treaty of Versailles being unfair, that they deserved so much more. People wake up. Don't you see? We are buying into extremist thoughts because we are scared. 

I am not saying that there is going to be another world war, but with somebody as "radical" and as spontaneous in power who knows what would happen. Hitler is much worst no doubt. But at least he seems to know what is wrong at the time. Trump doesn't okay? He doesn't even know how to do his hair right. We cannot let him get into a position where he can make more problems that the world already has so much of.

Sorry, but thats how we need to see this. Please for the good of the world. 

Love, 

Ez

Why dropping mathematics does not make me a failure.

I guess it's an Asian thing. To feel like you need to excel in science, or at least be a lawyer if you can't. But you always had to be good at math. Lol of course my math sucked, the universe would never be that kind to me.

Math was like that really really annoying hang nail on a week long camping trip and you didn't have a nail clipper, and it didn't bother you when you has shoes on cause socks and shoes basically helped you avoid the fact that there is an annoying little piece of shit stuck on your body, but one cannot have healthy or tan feet without the removal of said shoes, and so when exposed, very irritating. And as time progressed, you clearly did not leave it alone and it got more annoyingly painful and irritating, till you feel like you really should find a sharp rock or something to fix that shit. But you don't and you just kinda wash it so it wouldn't cause an infection, until you realised that your friend had a pair of nail clippers in his bag.

That long winded analogy was unnecessary, much like trigonometry and algebra [full circle]. I think I should explain it then you guys are lucky I am a literature student. The hang nail as you may have deduced is math, the nail clipper is the form for me to drop it. The friend were my friends and teachers that gave awesome advice. The shoes was me in asian denial and the exposure, was maths tests, the worsening progress was the worsening progress. So yeah, I explained myself again.

Dropping math is like me saying fuck stereotypes thank god I'm a liberal. NOT ALL ASIANS ARE GOOD AT MATH.

I don't hate math, math just can't handle me.

With love,
Ez