<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475</id><updated>2012-02-09T01:10:10.123+08:00</updated><category term='poetic hands'/><category term='It&apos;s Qilla.'/><category term='Back to hell.'/><category term='EXtreme Ambition Murderer'/><category term='May Days'/><category term='Outta school'/><category term='The Launching'/><category term='I&apos;m found.'/><category term='Motor license'/><title type='text'>The Sound Machine</title><subtitle type='html'>An instrument that kollekts sounds in my head and turns them into a visible form kalled KONFESSIONS.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>261</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4502890835067739160</id><published>2012-02-09T01:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T01:10:10.131+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is This It - Home Rekording</title><content type='html'>From my little and weak understanding, relevancy begins to disappear the moment something loses its purpose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has this sound machine lost its purposes? Has the relevancy gone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am operating it now, after some time. Time- does time kill relevance? Or am I breathing a new relevance into this rusty old machine?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4502890835067739160?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4502890835067739160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2012/02/is-this-it-home-rekording.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4502890835067739160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4502890835067739160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2012/02/is-this-it-home-rekording.html' title='Is This It - Home Rekording'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-24271375796697935</id><published>2011-11-17T01:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T01:46:11.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ghostbusters</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was with some friends, driving, searching for a blog of a friend of mine. And somehow the blog had its own building, a premise like a shop. But when we stopped the kar - I'm not sure who's driving - it was in front of a terrace house. A low-kost house. We got out and I saw a few people wearing a device on their back, with a long nozzle in their hand. It was like something from the Ghostbusters; yeah, it was, aktually, a device to terminate ghosts. I saw them point the nozzle at the ghosts and push the trigger, shooting some kind of oil, which burned the woman-like white kloudy figures that were the ghosts. I think they were banshees. I then took the device from one of the humans and it seemed like I was doing it better than them; I was shooting brilliantly. And after burning a few ghosts, I ran out of oil, and I was a bit skared so I charged towards a ghost with my nozzle pointing at it and yeah, that killed the pitiful ghost too. I then woke up and ate my roti canai.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-24271375796697935?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/24271375796697935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/11/ghostbusters.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/24271375796697935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/24271375796697935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/11/ghostbusters.html' title='Ghostbusters'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1106204005989165933</id><published>2011-11-17T01:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-11-17T01:45:15.685+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrong Turn</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I was a soldier, fighting in a war. But from what I remember, we didn't use any gun or rifle. We just threw rocks at the enemy's bunker akross the field. We were fighting in Vietnam, I think. I thought of Vietnam bekause when we backed up, there were several young monks dressed in their usual orange-ish klothes koming to us from behind the building. They were friendly. It was at that time that I thought of bekoming a monk myself in order to save myself from the ruthless enemy soldiers, bekause there were two or three of them eskorting the monks and they seemed to do no harm to the little monks. We then greeted each other, with the sweetest smile on our faces. And it was blurry after that. What I remember is that I was already in my own house, being kidnapped by an older guy dressed in military uniform. He was a bad guy, I know it. He threatened to kill me. I don't know why though. But I was no longer a soldier at that time. I was rather helpless. But then I fought, I guess, bekause as soon as I realised it, I already had him down. I forcefully kept him on the floor, flat on his stomach and I held his hands together by the wrists. I used him as a shield and threatened to break his arms bekause there was another man who was his partner akross the living room trying to kill me, too. I was thinking of dragging my hostage to the kitchen to grab my favourite weapon - a knife - but I thought better of it and identified the risk of his fighting back. I then reached my hand towards the exhibition kupboard beside me and managed to grab a small knife, but sharp enough. The man akross the room was wary and his face told me that he was afraid of his partner's life being taken by me. It was then that I suddenly without much thinking, stabbed the guy under me repeatedly on his back. Then I ran towards his partner who had now fallen back into a chair, surprised by my aktion. And I stabbed him too, right through his heart, several times in kold blood. After I was sure he was dead, I got out of the house. I kaught a glimpse of the first man trying to get up - fuck. He was still alive! I klosed the door and reached one of the long bamboo sticks just beside the door that my mom used as a dekoration and put it akross the door through the door holder to prevent it from being opened from the inside. But I knew it was not strong enough. Inside the house next to mine were a few hostages, tied. They were a woman and two young children. I don't remember who they were but it kould be my family. I then ran outside looking for a reskue with the mad soldier a few yards behind me. Okay I don't know what the distance was exaktly as I'm bad at guessing it but to hell with it. I then ran towards the house of the neighbourhood kommittee and I was glad the door was open. I ran up the front stairs and as soon as I got into the house, the mad man left me. He'd been real klose before he gave up on me upon seeing the family in the house. I then shouted at them asking for help. They were surprised by my presence and I think I told them about my situation. But they were dumbfounded. I gave up on them and quickly reached for the phone. There were three of them; all home phones and I struggled a little to pick one that's funktioning. I dialled 999 and waited for some time before it was picked up by a woman operator. But hell! The operator was nothing like an emergency line operator would be. She was fucking slow and she talked to me like it was nothing emergency, despite my shouting and rushing tone. I shouted to her my address in despair, thinking about the three hostages in the house that would have probably been killed by the mad man now. Later, I don't know what happened but I was already in a four-wheel drive vehikle beside a woman who was driving and two young girls at the back. It kame to me now that they might be the hostages. We were chased by a family of psykotik killers who hung on our kar and tried to break in with knives and axes. And by the time the father tried to stab me through the window, I defensed myself with my hand which got stabbed, and I threw my knife at him, injuring him and thus making him lose grip on the kar and konsequently fall back. We managed to eskape them and drove towards outside the neighbourhood and I woke up, looking at my phone only to see that it was already 3.00 PM.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1106204005989165933?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1106204005989165933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/11/wrong-turn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1106204005989165933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1106204005989165933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/11/wrong-turn.html' title='Wrong Turn'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-2087920649111816651</id><published>2011-10-29T02:34:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T02:47:32.159+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day &amp; Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It happens again, I think. But this time it's not bekause I have to choose. It's simply bekause I'm not faithful. I mean, I do appreciate her, but she seems to distance herself from me. We are no longer what we were when it all started. Ah... it's all a mess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Sun, the only one that shines,&lt;br /&gt;Are you setting, or are you rising,&lt;br /&gt;O Sun, give me signs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Moon, the one brightens my nights,&lt;br /&gt;Are you waiting, or are you going,&lt;br /&gt;O Moon, give me lights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s : Oh. I still have a way to get my ass out of this. I kan pray and hope that all this is just my imagination. If I hope a lot enough, it might as well bekome true. Kekeke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-2087920649111816651?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/2087920649111816651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-night.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2087920649111816651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2087920649111816651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-night.html' title='Day &amp; Night'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6008563588590510826</id><published>2011-10-17T21:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T21:01:56.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bakul Sampah Ajaib</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Pada suatu hari, di dalam sebuah kelas, semasa waktu pembelajaran.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Okey pelajar, ada mana-mana antara kamu yang tak faham tentang persamaan polifonik ketiga ni?" Cikgu Hamidah Jalil bertanya kepada pelajar-pelajarnya.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Salah seorang pelajarnya, Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali mengangkat tangan lalu berkata, "Aku masih tak faham, cikgu. Boleh kau tolong terangkan sekali lagi?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cikgu Hamidah Jalil terkejut dengan kata-kata Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali tersebut. Pelajar-pelajar lain pun ada yang terlopong, ada juga yang sudah membayangkan akibat dari soalan si Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali itu. Namun, berasakan yang dia mungkin tersalah dengar, memandangkan telinganya lupa dikorek pagi itu, Cikgu Hamidah Jalil bertanya kembali kepada pelajarnya yang agak kacak dan radikal itu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"Apa Helmi? Boleh kamu ulang kembali bahagian mana yang kamu tak faham?" kata Cikgu Hamidah Jalil, dengan nada sedikit tertahan. Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali sambil tersenyum sopan dan dengan nada yang sama, mengulang kata-katanya. Kali ini dengan lebih jelas, "Aku masih tak faham, cikgu. Boleh kau tolong terangkan sekali lagi?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cikgu Hamidah Jalil, kali ini pasti dan yakin dengan apa yang didengarinya, terus menyinsing lengan baju kurung kain kapas Inggerisnya itu dan bercekak pinggang, mendedahkan gelang-gelang emas yang bersusun di lengannya, dan dengan wajah yang bengis menjerkah pelajarnya itu. "KAMU JANGAN JADI KURANG AJAR HELLMI! BERCAKAP DENGAN GURU, GUNA AKU-KAU, KAMU INGAT SAYA NI SIAPA? KAWAN SEPERMAINAN KAMU KE HAH?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali sedikit terkejut dengan jerkahan guru Matematiknya itu. Rakan-rakan sekelasnya yang lain juga turut terkejut, bahkan melebih-lebih lagi, lebih dari si Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali yang dijerkahi itu sendiri. Ada yang mula ketar lutut. Ada yang memandang Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali dengan muka yang dicebirkan. Ada yang terlopong, dan ada juga yang tunduk, pura-pura tekun menjawab latihan sedangkan telinga dan minda tekun memberi perhatian kepada insiden yang sedang berlaku.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Walaubagaimanapun, Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali kelihatan kembali tenang dan terkawal dari rasa terkejutnya sebentar tadi. Dia menarik nafas dalam-dalam, lalu berkata, "Kenapa cikgu? Salah ke aku bercakap dengan kau macam ni?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"KAMU MEMANG KURANG AJAR HELLMI! MANA BUDI BAHASA DAN HORMAT KAMU TERHADAP GURU? KAMU SEPATUTNYA MEMBAHASAKAN DIRI SEBAGAI "SAYA" APABILA BERCAKAP DENGAN GURU KAMU!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali lalu berkata dengan ikhlas dan jujur, "Sedangkan dengan Tuhan pun, dalam doa-doa, aku membahasakan diri sebagai "aku". Kenapa pula dengan cikgu, yang sama sekali bukan tuhan, harus aku membahasakan diri sebagai "saya"?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cikgu Hamidah Jalil terkelu. Mukanya merah padam, marah barangkali. Barangkali juga malu kerana tidak tahu apa yang harus dikatakan kepada pelajarnya yang dianggap kurang ajar, biadap, tak beradab, celaka, jahanam, dan sebagainya itu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Di bahagian belakang kelas, kelihatan Malik Johari perlahan-lahan berdiri dan keluar dari pintu belakang, barangkali mahu ke tandas. Nurul Shuhada Karim, yang duduk selang tiga meja dari Ahmad Helmi Borhanuddin Ali pula tunduk menekup muka sambil tersedu-sedan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6008563588590510826?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6008563588590510826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/10/bakul-sampah-ajaib.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6008563588590510826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6008563588590510826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/10/bakul-sampah-ajaib.html' title='Bakul Sampah Ajaib'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4360288749297366411</id><published>2011-10-09T00:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T00:46:38.942+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Groucho Marx</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Di tempat tidur gua ni, yang bukan bilik, memang agak terasing dari dunia luar. Walaupun tak jauh dari ruang menonton TV dan dapur, tapi kalau gua dah memakai fon kepala mendengar lagu, memang tak dengar apa. Hujan pun, kalau tak berangin dan menyebabkan kebocoran lalu menitik di katil gua, memang gua takkan sedar. Sedar tak sedar, gua rasa angin sejuk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dan baru tadi, sekarang pun boleh juga, gua rasa angin sejuk. Gua buka fon kepala, tapi tak ada bunyi hujan. Tak hujan. Pelik? Tak juga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4360288749297366411?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4360288749297366411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/10/groucho-marx.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4360288749297366411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4360288749297366411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/10/groucho-marx.html' title='Groucho Marx'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5497277714962036299</id><published>2011-10-01T16:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T16:51:20.407+08:00</updated><title type='text'>River of Brake Lights</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Gua jarang ke bandar-bandar besar seperti Kuala Lumpur. Gua jarang keluar dari tempat gua. Kali terakhir gua datang ke KL tu pun, tiga tahun lepas. Dan bila gua dapat pergi Khamis lepas, gua rasa ketinggalan dan kecil. Betul-betul insignifikan. Dan gua tak tahu banyak mana yang dah berubah memandangkan gua tak pernah tahu dengan tepat bagaimana rupa bandar ibu negara Malaysia tu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Gua tahu, hidup gua bukan di sana; bukan di bandar besar tu, bukan di celah-celah bangunan pencakar langit tu. Introvert macam gua tak sesuai hidup di tempat macam tu. Tempat gua di sini, dalam kegelapan. Dan atas sebab itulah, gua buat keputusan untuk balik awal. Sepatutnya gua pergi 3 hari, balik hari ini. Tapi gua balik semalam. Dah tak sabar-sabar walaupun sehari je lagi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dan, berada di KLIA itu hari betul-betul buat gua rasa kempunan. Kempunan nak naik kapal terbang. Keh keh keh. Bila la agaknya gua berpeluang nak ke luar negara ye?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5497277714962036299?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5497277714962036299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/10/river-of-brake-lights.html#comment-form' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5497277714962036299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5497277714962036299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/10/river-of-brake-lights.html' title='River of Brake Lights'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5050698881264817698</id><published>2011-09-20T00:55:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T01:39:58.215+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be My Guest</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I guessed my first guess bekause you said bye earlier and, to me, it sounded like you were offended when I told you to have a nice life. Not that I know why you should be, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A desperate girl? No, I wouldn't say so but I wonder, are you indikating that you are a stalker, by saying that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And no, love kannot be kounted. Nor kan it be valued. Even if it kould, I would never know how to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And llove? Kekeke. You sure know how to joke, Guest. At least, I find it funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s : My definition of "love interest" before is not quite right. Just this moment, I've decided that I prefer the one from Urban Diktionary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"&gt;The person in whom one spends a disproportionate amount of time thinking about. The L word is kontextual only.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;So, akkording to that definition, my love interests are not only those whom I've developed a relationship with, but any person in whom I've spent more time thinking about than anything else. So, I would now have had more than just two love interests; the two with whom I've developed a relationship with - not simultaneously, of kourse. But they're all of the past, though I'm not going to forget them - it's about the my-mind-is-not-a-komputer-disk again. Kan't just erase the data, you know. And I've let out all this rubbish just bekause to make things klear, I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;I guess.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5050698881264817698?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5050698881264817698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/be-my-guest.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5050698881264817698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5050698881264817698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/be-my-guest.html' title='Be My Guest'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3587480704687647117</id><published>2011-09-14T03:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T03:02:45.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Data : permanently stored</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Though heart might have changed; mind didn't. Memory didn't. What was there is still there. What kame in will never get out. Unless my brain were a komputer, and the disk goes korrupted, only then will you disappear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3587480704687647117?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3587480704687647117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/data-permanently-stored.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3587480704687647117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3587480704687647117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/data-permanently-stored.html' title='Data : permanently stored'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-564907770427965114</id><published>2011-09-11T02:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-11T02:03:53.298+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hux, Play, Slash</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I read about &lt;a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/health/3313452/The-man-who-keeps-falling-in-love-with-his-wife.html"&gt;Clive Wearing&lt;/a&gt; yesterday. A man with no memory, a result from a very rare virus attacking his brain parts which kaused him to be unable to store any new memory. And every moment for him is like waking up from birth for the first time, every time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"I haven't heard anything, seen anything, smelled anything, felt anything, touched anything. How long?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;"It's like being dead."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But there's one thing that's intriguing me; how does it feel to have no memory? To lose all the konnektions to the past? To never know what has been there, and what hasn't? Fortunately, for Wearing, I guess, that he didn't lose the emotion he had towards his wife. He knew that he was married, and he in some way still rekognised her. I think that's good enough, for him to still have the woman he loved. But when it komes to memory, for me, whether to lose it or to have it stuck in mind, it's still bitter. And the bitterness digs a gaping hole from the inside. Bekause everything is lost and what left is the present.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-564907770427965114?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/564907770427965114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/hux-play-slash.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/564907770427965114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/564907770427965114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/hux-play-slash.html' title='Hux, Play, Slash'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5242332920383438815</id><published>2011-09-03T23:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T23:01:21.194+08:00</updated><title type='text'>9 Nyawa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hari ni dia datang lagi. Masuk-masuk rumah terus masuk ke bilik mak aku. Walaupun raya, tapi perbuatan dia tu mungkin telah menyebabkan mak aku marah, lalu segera mencari penyapu lidi. Jadi, sebelum wanita yang melahirkan aku itu sempat menyakitinya, aku cepat-cepat &lt;strike&gt;mendukungnya&lt;/strike&gt; mengangkatnya keluar. Walaupun begitu, mak aku sempat juga memukul kepalanya dengan penyapu lidi tu, lantas aku pun- "Hey!" -terjerkah mak aku. Aku tahu itu berdosa, tapi ibu, tunjukkanlah sedikit belas kasihan terhadap dia. Aku terus membawanya keluar. Aku cuba bermanja-manja dengannya; aku belai belakang badan dia lembut, tengkorak kepalanya aku usap. Badan dia gelap, tapi bukan hitam. Coklat gelap, aku agak. Namun mata dia memang cantik. Terang. Anak matanya ada warna perak, aku rasa. Dan dia kelihatannya semakin manja; berguling-guling. Rasanya dia sudah semakin rapat dengan aku. Aku agak dia lapar, sama macam hari tu. Lalu aku suruh adik aku bawakan sedikit makanan; keropok keping. Aku nak bagi dia makan. Keropok itu aku gunakan untuk mengumpan dia ke luar, sedikit jauh dari rumah dan keluargaku. Aku tak nak mereka mengganggu peluang aku untuk bersama dengan dia. Sampai di seberang jalan, di atas rumput, aku letak keropok itu. Dia terus makan. Berselera sekali aku tengok dia menikmati makanan tu. Aku tahu, aku mula jatuh sayang padanya, walaupun baru dua kali bertemu. Cuma, walaupun perasaan sayang tu wujud, tapi aku ada masalah dengan komitmen. Dan mak aku memang takkan benarkan aku membelanya. Lagipun, aku kena balik ke kampus. Aku bukannya tinggal di rumah. Hmmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sedang dia makan, ada satu lagi yang datang mendekati. Yang baru datang ni, walaupun aku tak pernah tengok, tapi aku kenal, sebab dia ada pakai rantai loceng. Aku cam bunyi loceng tu. Dia berwarna putih susu, dengan sedikit calit coklat gelap pada telinga dan mulutnya. Kaki belakangnya yang belah kanan patah, diheret lesu. Aku tertanya-tanya, kalau ada yang bertanggungjawab memakaikannya rantai loceng itu, di mana mereka sekarang? Adakah mereka telah mengabaikannya? Dia cuma tengok buah hati baru aku itu makan. Dan buah hati aku itu pula mendengus memberi amaran, agar jangan cuba mencuri makanannya. Mereka hampir bergaduh, namun aku cuba mententeramkan mereka. Namun melihatkan kaki yang baru tiba itu patah, aku jadi kasihan. Dan aku tahu, aku tidak pandai menguruskan perasaan belas kasihan aku, lalu aku pergi meninggalkan mereka berdua di situ, sedikit kesal kerana tidak memberikan makanan kepada yang satu lagi.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Namanya, aku masih lagi tidak tahu. Aku tak pernah tanya, dan dia pun tak pernah beritahu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5242332920383438815?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5242332920383438815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/9-nyawa.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5242332920383438815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5242332920383438815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/09/9-nyawa.html' title='9 Nyawa'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5058908133524112619</id><published>2011-08-29T02:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T02:13:28.982+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anti Stereotaip</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Kebanyakan dari kita mempunyai televisyen. Televisyen, atau senang dipanggil TV, dah memang menjadi satu kelengkapan rumah, dah menyamai fungsi kerusi atau meja. Bahkan, lebih dari itu. Hari tu mak aku cerita, masa sebelum keluarga aku pindah ke rumah aku sekarang, mak, bapak dan dua orang kakak aku pernah menyewa di sebuah rumah. Masa tu aku tak macam sekarang, aku masih lagi janin. Masa tu, kerusi tak ada. Tapi TV dah ada. Tapi yang aku nak cerita bukan sejarah TV, tapi kesan TV terhadap pemikiran penontonnya.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dari dulu lagi, entah siapa punya angkara, waktu raya mesti akan dikaitkan dengan pulang ke kampung. Dan kampung itu, menurut montaj-montaj yang disiarkan dalam kaca TV, dan mungkin dari lagu-lagu raya, mestilah di desa yang mana perjalanan untuk sampai ke destinasi mestilah melalui bukit-bukau, gunung-ganang, sawah bendang dan sebagainya. Kekerapan menjadi kebiasaan, dan kebiasaan menjadi kepercayaan. Stereotaip. Lalu, setiap kali hendak raya, orang akan ingat PULANG KE KAMPUNG HALAMAN. Kalau kampung halamannya di desa, tak apalah. Tapi macam mana pulak dengan mereka yang kampung halamannya dah memang di kota? Apakah frasa "pulang ke kampung halaman" tidak tertakluk kepada mereka? Kurangkah nilai perayaan itu?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dan juga, kurangkah nilai sesuatu perantauan itu sekiranya seseorang perantau itu merantau ke sebuah tempat yang dekat dengan kampung halamannya? Tak layakkah dia merasa nikmat pulang ke kampung?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Persoalan-persoalan ini mungkin tidak relevan. Mungkin ia hanya delusi aku yang mempercayai bahawa terdapatnya segolongan pihak yang memandang rendah nilai perayaan di kota. Namun begitu, aku taklah pula membenci mereka yang lebih seronok beraya di desa, cuma aku bersimpati terhadap mereka yang beraya di kota. Aku bersimpati, kerana aku juga, baru sedar yang aku turut bersikap prejudis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terima kasih kepada Nizam Zakaria, melalui karyanya yang bertajuk Novel Halimunan, yang telah menyedarkan aku tentang stereotaip ini.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5058908133524112619?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5058908133524112619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/anti-stereotaip.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5058908133524112619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5058908133524112619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/anti-stereotaip.html' title='Anti Stereotaip'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6802029585588095560</id><published>2011-08-27T00:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T00:43:08.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breast Kancer Cell</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So Nisa told me she's sick. Monthly fever. I told her I fear the possibility of it having something to do with her laboratory work as she's doing a research on breast kancer cell. Well, I hope that's not it, though I kan't help from being worried about that. I hope everything's going to be just fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nisa; a new variable in sound extrakting experiments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, I'm home for Raya. It feels good, though it kind of annoys me to see people are so happy about it. Fucked up, huh. Psyko?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6802029585588095560?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6802029585588095560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/breast-kancer-cell.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6802029585588095560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6802029585588095560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/breast-kancer-cell.html' title='Breast Kancer Cell'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4112926657785658239</id><published>2011-08-25T04:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T04:03:34.995+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waktu Sahur</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Malam-malam buta macam ni, pukul 3 nak dekat pukul 4 pagi, gelap, bila semua dah tidur, walaupun ada dua ekor lagi malaun depan aku yang masih berbalah manja, aku tiba-tiba rasa dekat dengan diri aku. Nak-nak bila mesin bunyi ni dah kembali beroperasi. Keinginan untuk menulis, untuk mengesktrak bunyi dari kepala otak mula menjadi kuat, walaupun bunyi ini tidaklah seberapa kualitinya. Apa yang aku harap sekarang adalah aku akan terus menulis di sini, supaya diri aku di masa depan dapat tengok perkembangan hidup dia masa dahulu; sekarang.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;p/s : Dah pukul 4 dah pun. Gua menulis lama sangat, walaupun tak panjang.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4112926657785658239?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4112926657785658239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/waktu-sahur.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4112926657785658239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4112926657785658239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/waktu-sahur.html' title='Waktu Sahur'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6594746889786642743</id><published>2011-08-25T03:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T03:27:06.893+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mati Hidup Kembali</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I thought I was never going to open this site. But yet, I just did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And I'm grateful, for I don't feel too burdened as to tell everything that I've missed to write in here. Just to let out, I'm now in my last weeks of this first semester, and it's been going fine. I got good marks in some tests, thank God, and never have I skipped any klass. I don't know if that's good, though. It's also days before Raya and I've just shopped for a few tees. Perhaps a pair of cheap used jeans would komplete that. I'll try to find it in Kemaman, perhaps this Saturday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hey, I'm back. Hey, Skyzophrenyk Psyko. You missed me?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6594746889786642743?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6594746889786642743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/destroyer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6594746889786642743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6594746889786642743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/08/destroyer.html' title='Mati Hidup Kembali'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-2700325450791270842</id><published>2011-06-21T11:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-21T11:38:28.919+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heart Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm not a serious person. Always trying to make fun out of everything. And that somehow makes me forget how it feels to be in love, or to miss someone; families or friends. I do have feelings, but I don't feel as komfortable to share it with people around me. It makes me vulnerable, somehow. And every time I say something about love, or any other feeling, people who know me, know that I don't say that honestly. They know I don't mean it and that I'm just being funny, and that's just what my intention is. It is a blessing, for sometimes when I'm being truthful as to what I really feel, they'll just assume I'm in my usual playful behaviour. So I don't have to be ashamed of my feelings for no one would take it seriously. It's pretty much like the boy who kried wolf. It's a blessing, and in the same time, a kurse as well. I kan no longer express my emotions as what they truly are, not in a funny way. And I long to use those feelings again. To reveal them in their true forms. But I'm suppressing them, keeping them inside, and that gives me pain, and I love pain. I miss no person, but the feelings itself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-2700325450791270842?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/2700325450791270842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/heart-death.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2700325450791270842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2700325450791270842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/heart-death.html' title='Heart Death'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-982113529554958647</id><published>2011-06-14T22:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T22:08:18.299+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Preview : Orientashit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Allow me to tell you about my orientation week. The bloody hell of a week. It was held in UiTM Jengka, for it is the main branch in Pahang. I stayed there for a week, in a room of four. Other than me, the three other guys are all law students. But of kourse that never bothered me. What did bother me were the programmes and schedules. All the talks and speeches- damn it. Just imagine, we had to get up as early as 4.30 in the morning, awakened by the shouts and the bams on the door by those OCs. And we also had to sit on the fucking komfortable floor for hours, kracking our butts and kramming our legs. Okay, maybe I am a whiny fucking krybaby but it was really torturing. Not to mention, every single day there was spent in formal attire; slack trousers, long=sleeved shirt and necktie, from early morning to late night. We were also not allowed to go back to our room, making our time at room only around 4 hours per day. Sleepless, restless days. Luckily, the foundation students got a one-week break after the five-day orientation. It was a blessing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And oh, there was also a talk about "Memperkasakan Jati Diri Anak Bangsa" from a fucking patriot who is goddamn proud about his race. Fuck you. All and all, the orientation week was a success in torturing the students.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-982113529554958647?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/982113529554958647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/preview-orientashit.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/982113529554958647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/982113529554958647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/06/preview-orientashit.html' title='Preview : Orientashit'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1811094313894513614</id><published>2011-05-17T02:40:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T02:41:10.748+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vaelign Hoem</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Jadi untuk membuat persediaan nak sambung belajar ni, gua ke Kuantan dengan si Sapik Ahad kelmarin untuk beli baju kemeja dengan seluar slack. Mat Ipang tak ada, sebab dah mulakan kursus bahasa Arab dia sebulan sebagai persediaan ke Jordan September nanti. Jadi pagi Ahad tu gua bawa la Si Kancil ke Kuantan. Kira kali pertama la bawa ke Kuantan, tanpa pengawasan ibu bapa. Keh keh keh. Sampai dalam pukul 10.30 pagi, dan gua terus ke Megamall dulu. Parking tak payah cerita la, sekeliling bangunan tu semua dah penuh. Terpaksa la gua parking jauh sikit. Sikit je. Jadi lepas gua tolong pak guard buka pintu Megamall, gua dan Sapik pun berpusing-pusing la dulu dalam tu sambil tengok-tengok barang, dan juga orang. Fuhhh. Rambang juga mata keranjang gua ni. Keh keh keh. Lepas tu, bila dah dalam 20 minit duduk dalam kedai Rejekt Shop, duk cuba-cuba baju, gua pun beli la sehelai. Lepas tu pulak, agenda tengok wayang pula diusahakan. Tengok cerita Kongsi, sebab Sapik dari Kemaman lagi beriya kata nak tengok cerita tu. Gua pun ikut je la. Panggung penuh tak payah cerita la, siap ada 3 4 orang brader ni yang duk cari-cari tempat duduk dia orang, kut-kut ada orang lain duduk. Gua takut jugak, mana la tahu kalau yang gua duduk tu pun bukan tempat gua. Habis cerita, gua ke East Koast Mall pulak bagi meneruskan lagi acara membeli-belah gua. Sambil cari-cari kedai yang ada jual baju murah sikit, gua turut mencuci mata keranjang gua yang disorokkan di sebalik Ray Ban cermin hitam gua yang berharga RM15. Lepas beli baju dan seluar, dan sembahyang Zohor, terus gerak dari situ. Sempat la juga gua lepak kat Pantai Teluk Chempedak. Cun betul tempat tu, dah la ramai orang. Seingat-ingat gua, kali terakhir (dan mungkin juga kali pertama) gua ke situ dulu masa gua sekolah rendah lagi. Tapi memang syok la tempat tu. Jadi lepas dah puas ushar tempat tu dan makan-makan di gerai yang ada kat situ, gua pun meminta diri la pulak. Nak balik. Waktu balik, Sapik yang pandu. Jadi dapat la gua berehat sikit lepas dah kenyang perut tu. Tapi gua tak ada la tidur, macam yang Sapik tidur masa gua pandu pagi masa pergi tu. Jadi hari tu ada la dalam RM200 juga gua berbelanja. Kemeja 3 helai, seluar 2 helai, makan sikit, tiket wayang sikit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Petang tadi (Isnin) pun gua ke The Store seorang diri dalam pedih-pedih mata. Beli kasut, seluar sukan, dan stokin. Mujur la kasut Vans tu pun tak mahal mana. Peh. Kalau ikutkan duit yang dah diguna untuk beli semua ni, kalau simpan dalam bank pun bangga juga rasanya. Tapi mujur la masa mak gua buat kenduri Sabtu hari tu, dalam RM200 lebih juga gua dapat hasil pemberian tetamu yang datang. Walaupun sebenarnya gua malu juga nak terima, ye lah, dapat belajar pun tempat dekat je. Keh keh keh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1811094313894513614?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1811094313894513614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/05/vaelign-hoem.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1811094313894513614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1811094313894513614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/05/vaelign-hoem.html' title='Vaelign Hoem'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-687984241615689588</id><published>2011-05-17T02:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T02:05:57.035+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tayangan Semula</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pertandinagn Mewarna Rumah&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Berbalik kepada cerita kerja mengecat gua itu hari, gua balik semula ke kampung untuk sambung kerja tu kira-kira 5 hari lepas temuduga TESL gua. Duduk sana dalam seminggu jugalah. Tapi sebenarnya tak banyak pun yang gua cat. Adalah sikit bahagian luar, sikit bahagian dalam. Berehat je banyak sebenarnya. BerFesbuk guna henset. Asal ada masa terluang sikit gua buka Fesbuk. Selain tu, gua adalah juga tolong-tolong nenek dan mak cik gua beli barang ke, jadi drebar ke. Tapi yang gua tak tahan sikit, pak cik gua, adik kepada Emperor. Dia ni memang workaholik sungguh. Petang, lepas balik kerja je terus datang rumah, buat kerja mengecat. Malam pun dia datang. Yang gua tak tahan bukan apa, tapi pasal gua malas sikit. Dia tengah mengecat, gua duduk tengok je. Bimbang jangan cakap la, takut dia marah gua yang banyak berehat dari kerja. Selain tu, sepupu bapak gua. Tua setahun dari gua. Perangai dia pun sama, jenis rajin melampau. Lepas seminggu, gua balik Kemaman semula, tu pun awal sehari dari kontrak. Keh keh keh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Menara Diperbuat Dari Gading&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cerita pasal temuduga TESL yang gua dapat tu, gua pergi hari Ahad, 17 April, kat Kuantan. Gua pergi dengan mak, bapak, adik dan seorang kawan gua, Mat Ipang, buat peneman. Dulu gua teman dia ke pertandinagn hafazan dia, ni dia pulak yang teman gua. Jadi gua dengan stail dressing mat pejabat, berseluar slack bootkut warna koko cerah sedondon dengan kemeja lengan panjang post-grunge, dilengkapi dengan kasut kulit bapak gua yang juga warna koko. Fuhhh. Tapi sampai kat tempat temuduga tu, Kampus UiTM Padang Lalang, budak-budak lain gua tengok semua berseluar hitam berbaju putih. Keh keh keh. Temuduga tu dimulakan dengan ujian bertulis secara berkumpulan. Macam jawab periksa la. Kena pulak soalan esei tentang bahaya penggunaan Fesbuk. Peh. Memang jem. Gua kalau soalan suruh karang cerita fiksyen boleh la. Tapi gua tetap jawab sedaya-upaya walaupun payah. Lepas sejam, habis ujian tu, tunggu giliran untuk temuduga lisan pulak. Yang ni gua tak berahi. Berdebar, berpeluh tak payah cerita la. Tapi sementara menunggu tu ada la juga gua berkenalan dengan 2 3 budak lain. Ada seorang ni budak Besut. Dia la yang paling ramah kat situ. Gua tahan je rasa lucu bila dengar dia bercakap dalam loghat Kelantan. Sampai giliran gua, nombor 7, gua masuk. Nasib la bilik tu biasa je. Tak besar. Tukang temuduga pun 2 orang je, dua-dua perempuan. Mudalah juga. Dua orang ni pun taklah serius mana pun. Tu yang gua rasa rilek sikit. Dia tanya pasal keluarga, latar belakang, hal-hal macam tu je la. Gua pun ada la juga sembang pasal adik-beradik gua sikit. Tapi mujur la dia tak tanya gua pasal hal semasa, macam yang orang lain kena. Peh. Kalau tak, menggagau juga rasanya. Jadi bila dah habis temuduga tu, dalam pukul 11 macam tu, gua suruh bapak gua hantar gua dan Mat Ipang ke East Koast Mall, sementara dia dan mak gua rehat kat rumah mak saudara gua yang di Kuantan ni. Masa tu la pergi tengok wayang cerita Source Code tu. Memang sedap la cerita dia. Lepas tu, dalam pukul 2 lebih, bapak gua datang ambil, balik ke rumah mak saudara tadi. Sembahyang, makan nasi, rehat sekejap, petang balik Kemaman. Dan dalam 2 minggu lepas tu, keputusan temuduga tu pun keluar dalam internet. Gua dapat. Jadi, hari ni masa gua menaip ni, betul-betul sebulan lepas temuduga tu, dan kira-kira seminggu dari ni, gua akan melanjutkan pelajaran ke menara gading. Keh keh keh. Asasi dalam kursus TESL. Sabtu ni gua ke Jengka dulu, seminggu orientasi buat kat sana rasanya. Lepas tu baru dia orang hantar ke kampus di Kuantan ni. Mujur la dapat dekat je, walaupun gua selalu kata nak tempat jauh. Keh keh keh. Memang jenis anak mak.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Teh Tiga Lapis&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dalam pada tu, gua ada berjumpa kawan-kawan sekolah rendah gua dalam Fesbuk. Semuanya hasil dari grup yang member gua buat. Memang bagus jugalah dapat kontek balik dengan member-member lama ni. Dalam grup tu gua je yang bising, ye lah, dah orang lantik jadi admin kan. Keh keh keh. Selain tu ada juga buat lawatan ke sekolah rendah. Yang pergi dengan gua itu hari ada 5 orang. Jumpa cikgu-cikgu, tinjau-tinjau kawasan sekolah. Fuhhh. menggamit memori sungguh. Walaupun cikgu-cikgu masih nampak sama, walaupun ada yang dah pindah, tapi sekolah tu memang banyak pembaharuan. Pokok tepi gelanggang yang dijadikan tempat bergayut tu pun dah ditebang. kantin pun dah diperbesarkan sikit, untuk ruang makan guru. Kat belakang pun sekarang ada bangunan pra-sekolah. Tapi ada satu yang gua tak berapa berkenan tengok budak-budak sekolah itu hari; masa cikgu bercakap di depan pun ada 4 5 orang yang tengah main e-book! Tu yang gua tak puas hati tu. Dengki la woi. Zaman gua dulu mana ada benda-benda macam tu. Main pun main gasing yang dijadikan dari pemadam. Tapi benda-benda tu semua, dan kenangan-kenangan masa sekolah rendah dulu memang seronok, tapi bila duk teringat jadi sedih pulak, sebab dah tak dapat nak buat benda-benda tu lagi. Dan antara member yang paling kerap gua lepak lepas jumpa semula ni adalah Sapik. Mat Ipang tu tak payah kira la, memang dah boleh jadi kembar gua tu, orang cakap la. Gua, Mat Ipang, Sapik. Tiga ni je la yang petang-petang selalu ke pasar minggu dalam masa 2 3 minggu ni. Takpun keluar ronda-ronda ke, minum-minum ke. Ye la, lepas ni dah susah nak jumpa. Isk. Sedih, sedih.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-687984241615689588?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/687984241615689588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/05/tayangan-semula.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/687984241615689588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/687984241615689588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/05/tayangan-semula.html' title='Tayangan Semula'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-2099066785807874634</id><published>2011-04-19T17:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T17:35:02.934+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tempus</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;How do you perceive TIME? Time, as I see it, is nothing. It's not real but merely an illusion, a kreation of human. Kreated as a measurement, to measure the length of a period and to mark moments. Time also changes, but time itself never changes. But time doesn't really change things aktually; things change by themselves, assisted by faktors around them. Time is just a measurement. But time, time itself, never changes. It is as it has been since humanity kreated it, probably thousands of years ago. It's been perceived as something that moves unstoppably, not too fast, and neither too slow. And whether it moves or not, or exists or not, moments where its time is stopped, they never exist. It's only generated by human's artful imagination. And time travelling, as alluring as it sounds, kan never be possible, unless things, not time, kan go back to their previous states or konditions. And if it's possible to re-simulate past moments, that is the klosest thing to time travelling that kan ever be done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;How do you think of time? Feel free to share.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;p/s: Oh yeah, if you've seen the new film Source Code, you'd probably understand what I mean in my note "A Dystopia" as the film has pretty much the similar idea to what I imagine this life is. Only the life in the film is of real persons and real histories, and in komputer program.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-2099066785807874634?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/2099066785807874634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/tempus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2099066785807874634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2099066785807874634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/tempus.html' title='Tempus'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3805489698286162174</id><published>2011-04-15T00:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T00:04:24.233+08:00</updated><title type='text'>M'aidez! M'aidez!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I still remember how excited I was as a kid when brought to the town playground, the one that I just went this evening. It's not that far from home, about 3 kilometres, I guess. But as a kid, it was diffikult to go anywhere. To get to play the tunnel slide, the spring horses, the swings- it was real fun. A playground is just a heaven for kids. I saw how kids were playing happily and karefree, without having to think or decide anything. We were once like them. And as we grow older, we face problems and have to decide and akt for future. Maybe it's just ordinary teenagers' problem but at times like this, leaving skool for kollege or university, every decision is utterly important. Not only in deciding, the hardness and bitterness are also felt when we're leaving and changing our lifestyle. No more homely things, that is. But whether we like it or not, we know for sure it's a must and no matter how it sucks, we're going to live it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I deaktivated my Fesbuk akkount before leaving for my Granny's place last Tuesday as I planned to hibernate for a while while I'm not home. It's silly to tell but it sucked to be empty. And yesterday as I reaktivated it and logged in, I felt so hollow. I don't really know why. Perhaps it was still about the emptiness. The void I left and re-entered. The nothingness. Shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Admit it you shit. You hate how everything and everyone is&amp;nbsp;centred&amp;nbsp;about that social networking site yet you still feel the reluktance to leave it. You get in it every day yet you despise others who &amp;nbsp;do the same. You're one big motherfucking hypokrite you shit. That's why I'm here- to negate you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3805489698286162174?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3805489698286162174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/maidez-maidez.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3805489698286162174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3805489698286162174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/maidez-maidez.html' title='M&apos;aidez! M&apos;aidez!'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5642778052444417680</id><published>2011-04-14T23:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T23:27:03.464+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Krank (Kapt'N K Mix)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Peh. Jadi bila dah hari-hari duduk terperap di rumah, aku terima tawaran mak saudara aku kat kampung untuk tolong mengecat rumah nenek aku. Dan pulanglah aku petang hari Selasa lepas ke Dungun (je) dihantar oleh mak dan bapak aku. Tak selesa sangat la sebab dapur pun tengah dibaikpulih dan bilik depan tu pun tengah dicat. Jadi hari Rabu keesokannya aku pun mulalah tolong sepupu bapak aku yang lebih kurang sebaya tu cat bilik. Ada la dalam beberapa bahagian kecil yang aku cat. Tu pun dah berpanas berpeluh macam orang kena soal di bapak mertua di tengah gurun. Petang tu mak aku ada telefon kata yang nama aku ada keluar untuk temuduga asasi TESL yang aku mohon secara terpaksa dalam UPU hari tu. Memandangkan temuduga tu Ahad ni, jadi terpaksalah aku balik semula ke Kemaman hari Rabu tu jugak sebab nak ke sekolah untuk minta pengesahan sijil dari pihak sekolah. Peh. Membazir tenaga sungguh pergi balik pergi balik. Duduk kat kampung tak sampainya dua hari pun. Jadi pagi tadi lepas fotostet semua yang diperlukan, walaupun bapak aku kalut dan marah-marah juga sebelum dapat jumpa surat beranak aku yang hilang, aku pun pergi la rumah kawan aku Muaz Kekasih Taylor Swift untuk ambil dia temankan aku ke sekolah. Dan lepas sudah semua tu, aku ajak Muaz ni makan nasi beriyani kat kedai tempat kerja kawan aku seorang lagi, Afik J-Pop Klon Ayahnya KK. Sebelum tu ingat nak ke Seri Bandi ke rumah Remy Gamer Hardkore Peminat Chelsea, telefon dia dia pulak kata tak ada kat rumah, balik kampung. Jadi lepas kenyang, aku dengan Muaz terus ke rumah Faiz Hakimi Obsesi Lamborghini. Dia nak ke bandar baiki jam Lamborghini dia yang tercabut tali. Lepas sudah tu, lepas tawaf Yellow Town, kami pun balik.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Petang tadi Irfan Pak Arab Moden ajak aku ke pasar malam. Terjumpa kawan-kawan, lepak kat taman permainan, buat sa'ie sepanjang gerai-gerai, makan aiskrim potong. Rutin biasa la tu kiranya kalau ke pasar malam dengan dia ni.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dalam 4 hari ni je la aku boleh jumpa kawan-kawan pun. Lepas temuduga Ahad ni, temuduga yang aku yakin tak akan menjadi temuduga bila aku dah senyap tak keluar sepatah haram cakap mat salih, aku kena balik kampung semula, sambung kerja mengecat. Lepas tu PLKN celaka jahanam tu pulak, pertengahan bulan Mei nanti. Serabut, serabut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5642778052444417680?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5642778052444417680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/krank-kaptn-k-mix.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5642778052444417680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5642778052444417680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/krank-kaptn-k-mix.html' title='Krank (Kapt&apos;N K Mix)'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-2675776449332037454</id><published>2011-04-05T01:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T02:03:31.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dystopia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Have you ever wondered that life that we think we're living is not real? What if it's just an illusion? Maybe we're not moving at all. Imagine that we're aktually just lying unkonsciously on a bed like one in the hospital, surrounded by machines that feed us with drug to keep us dreaming of this imaginary life and not waking up. But of kourse, the place we might aktually be lying isn't really a hospital, but a big hangar full of komatose humans, probably naked, just like us. This awake state we think we're in, is like The Matrix. The drug we're fed with makes our konscious mind feel like it is a real world. We kan touch, feel, sense, smell, and see things but it's only in our mind; we're not aktually experiencing it. Histories of us and people around us are merely made up. The feelings we have for them are artificial, an effekt of the drug. In fakt, the people around us in this imaginary life aren't real, and never do they exist. You, whoever who read this, probably aren't real too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Just wait until someone appears in this dream and offers you a pill which when eaten, will revive you from this dream, only to wake up alone among other unkonscious humans and beeping machines. And the real world that awaits outside is one that is destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: I really want to know what you have to say about this. And if you've ever wondered something extraordinary about your life or this world, please feel free to share with me. Thanks in advance for those who're willing to share opinions or any responses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-2675776449332037454?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/2675776449332037454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/dystopia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2675776449332037454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2675776449332037454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/dystopia.html' title='A Dystopia'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6309540233896670037</id><published>2011-04-04T03:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T03:05:19.337+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kisah Cinta Uda &amp; Dara</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Betina : Saya comel tak?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Jantan : Tak sangat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Betina : Awak cintakan saya tak?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Jantan : Entah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Betina : Awak nak hidup bersama saya tak?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Jantan : Tengok la dulu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Betina : Awak akan menangis tak kalau saya tinggalkan awak?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Jantan : Buat apa?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dan betina itu mula menangis teresak-esak siap sekali dengan hingus. Lalu si jantan menarik betina itu rapat ke arahnya sambil betina itu menangis di dadanya. Si jantan mengeluarkan sepucuk pistol revolver dari kocek seluar jeansnya dan terus menembak si betina tepat di atas dahi. Si jantan hidup bahagia selama-lamanya.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;p/s: Kisah ini pada asalnya ditulis sebagai parodi kepada status-status jiwang yang kerap kali dipos oleh Fesbukers sekalian namun oleh kerana ia ditulis dalam tulisan penuh dan tanpa singkatan, ia membuatkan kepanjangannya melebihi 420 karakter, lalu ia disunting menjadi nota. Sekian harap terasa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6309540233896670037?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6309540233896670037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/kisah-cinta-uda-dara.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6309540233896670037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6309540233896670037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/04/kisah-cinta-uda-dara.html' title='Kisah Cinta Uda &amp; Dara'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5880086650287681233</id><published>2011-03-25T17:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-25T18:10:37.862+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Need For Speed UnderMARA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Though I might not be too good at it, I love language. Writing, literature, poetries- almost everything in it. So what I've been having in mind since this kouple of years is to lengthen my interest to a level where I kan just koncentrate on it. Like, taking it for my diploma study. And maybe going further with degree, and lastly, enjoying life, making my interest as a source of living. But one thing I really hope I kould avoid is teaching- no, it's being a teacher. I resent being a teacher. This is kaused by my resentment towards skool; a place where I've spent 13 out of 18 years of my miserable life. I admit, skool isn't that bad but I kan't seem to konform with rules and skedules and uniformity. It's torturing, really. And I'm in between two options for my diploma; English study and TESL, Teaching English as Sekond Language. The first option is of kourse my first choice, but it'd be just studies. A diploma. There's no konvincing future in it- as "future", as regarded by many, is a life with a highly-paid job. On the other hand, the sekond option, TESL, will ensure me to have a job as a teacher, which is something I'd rather be jobless than to take it as a lifestyle. But people around me, especially my parents, have voiced out their desire and urgency for me to choose TESL. Mom told me last night to think about my future and not just my interest. And that they want me to choose something "future-konvincing" not for them, but for myself. I know, they want nothing from me but when they said it that way, they've made me realise that I MUST help them when I'm older. Money isn't everything, but with money, I kan help them. Repay them, though I'm sure no parents would want that. But I'm konfused bekause they'd told me earlier that they didn't mind me choosing anything as long as I have the heart for it. That was when I said I'd choose TESL. But yeah, I really must think about my future. And now, I kan feel that I'm more determined to go for TESL for my diploma, and be a teacher for some time and finish it to the degree level, and only after all that will I do anything I like, studying deeper literature, for example. I don't plan on being a teacher forever and spend my whole life in skool, no. I still dislike teaching profession, and I always will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aha, at times like this, Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken ekoes in indecisive minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I really hope you're satisfied with your decision, dude. But not happy, no, for happiness is the pleasure of being able to do what we like, not with money, but with our own will and desire.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5880086650287681233?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5880086650287681233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/need-for-speed-undermara.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5880086650287681233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5880086650287681233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/need-for-speed-undermara.html' title='Need For Speed UnderMARA'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8562334798472637039</id><published>2011-03-24T03:09:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-24T03:21:25.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotionally Unstable Shit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As everyone knows, it's the result day. Well, I was trying not to feel anything about it, unlike other kids. All I kould see yesterday was their statuses on Fesbuk telling how nervous they were to wait for their SPM result. I was like what the hell, I've figured out as much how mine would turn out to be. I know how I've done it, and based from that, I expekted for the worst. Not hoping for something good, I've even hoped for something bad so it wouldn't go against my hope if it'd turn out to be so. And so today (the day earlier) I got to know how it's turned out. Well, it's not so bad, just a la karte, I guess. But I really feel so grateful for it. I've passed Additional Mathematiks and Kemistry, which I'd expekted to fail miserably earlier. But even those two are kredits. And all are, aktually. Getting all kredits is something that I kan feel good about, to think of how I studied last year. And truth be told, I didn't really study.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And I kind of know what kourse I'm going for after this. It's something I like but when I received a kall this evening from my aunt who is a teacher, she asked about it and told me to think and konsider my choice and that it must be based on so-kalled REALITY and job prospekts and not just interest, belittling me about my words on being a writer. The fuck. I'd been okay since the morning and after the result but she ruined that. What a pain in ass to have a teacher in family who thinks she knows everything. Stay away from my fucking life and never try to influence me; let me worry about my goddamn future on my own.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And I'm kind of mad right now. Krazy, emotionally unstable. I don't know. I don't want to be so affekted by the result- no, I don't think I'm mad about it. But I got a little impatient when talking to those who try to advise me about my future shit. Damn me for jealousy all you want but I kind of hate to see their happiness. I know, I know I shouldn't be jealous but I don't really know for sure if it's really jealousy. And for those who are devastated for getting bad result, if there's any, I really want you to know that you're a piece of shit. It's not the end of the world you idiot. Don't be such a krybaby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And to think how I've been in Fesbuk lately, in a group of last year's skoolmates, it's shit. I know, I love being funnily stupid and joking around all the time but it appears to me that all who've been responding to me in that group are all smarties. I don't know. It's simply shit. I've been loud and silly and all, and I sometimes think I kan get sick of myself and that I'd fucking shut myself silent if I were someone else. I think I'm funny and all that but- oh shit, what the hell am I doing talking about this? Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"&gt;You fucking asshole. You're mad about others bekause the real thing is, you're not satisfied enough with what you got&amp;nbsp;even though you refuse to admit it. I don't know if you're naturally a humorous idiot or that you just try to be it but everything has a limit. &amp;nbsp;You want people to stay out of your fucking life but you yourself keep bugging them with your supposedly "funny" jokes. You better shut the fuck up and stop being so loud you fucking asshole. I see you've removed your loudness from there and from those who think you're loud but I don't see what that would make things be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8562334798472637039?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8562334798472637039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/emotionally-unstable-shit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8562334798472637039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8562334798472637039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/emotionally-unstable-shit.html' title='Emotionally Unstable Shit'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-2061122582757095401</id><published>2011-03-20T18:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T18:37:12.720+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hikayat Zeus Menangis</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Maka demikianlah diceritakan pada zaman dahulu kala, zaman bermulanya sejarah bola sepak sebuah negara yang dikenali dengan nama Malaysia. Adapun di sebuahi negeri yang lain, di hujung dunia terdapatlah sebuah gunung yang menjadi tempat dewa-dewa bersemayam, Mount Olimpus namanya. Adapun yang tinggal di gunung ini tiada lain tiada bukan melainkan dewa-dewa Greek, yakni Zeus dan kaum-kaum kerabatnya, yang hidupnya atas doa-doa dan sembahan-sembahan rakyat jelata. Maka pada suatu hari, datanglah tiga orang perutusan dari negeri lain, yang jauh sekali dari tanah Greece itu. Adapun yang bertiga ini adalah dari China, Korea, dan Malaysia. Maka utusan dari China pun segera berlari ke atas puncak gunung ingin bertanya para dewa tentang nasib bola sepak negaranya. Apakah mungkin negaranya dapat beraksi di Piala Dunia? Maka, Zeus pun menjawab, "Ya, 50 tahun lagi." Utusan China itupun segera berlari pulang ke negaranya, sambil menangis kerana mendengar khabar itu. Berfikir akan nasibnya sempat atau tidakkah dia untuk melihat pasukannya di Piala Dunia. Utusan kedua, yakni yang dari Korea itu pun memulakan lariannya ke puncak gunung. Soalan sama ditanya, dan jawapan Zeus, "Ya, 30 tahun lagi." Maka orang Korea itu pun berlari pulang jugalah, pun menangis jualah ia kerana mendengar berita itu. Sampai giliran utusan dari Malaysia, setelah penat berlari ke puncak gunung untuk berjumpa dewa, maka soalan sama jua yang ditanya, "Wahai Zeus, bilakah Malaysia dapat memasuki Piala Dunia?" Maka yang mengejutkan seluruh sekalian penghuni Mount Olimpus itu, adalah Zeus tidak terus menjawab. Setelah 2 3 minit menunggu, akhirnya Zeus sendiri yang menangis. Maka tahulah ia akan utusan Malaysia itu, rupa apakah akan nasib pasukan bola sepak negaranya yang tercinta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-2061122582757095401?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/2061122582757095401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/hikayat-zeus-menangis.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2061122582757095401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2061122582757095401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/hikayat-zeus-menangis.html' title='Hikayat Zeus Menangis'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3721272411981599235</id><published>2011-03-18T02:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-18T02:58:59.398+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pengalaman Seram Di Internet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Pada suatu tengah malam, ketika saya sedang bermain Fesbuk di Internet, saya terdengar satu bunyi yang tidak berapa menggerunkan. Jam menunjukkan pukul 12.51. Saya tidak berasa takut pada mulanya kerana menyangka ianya sekadar bunyi kucing milik jiran saya, namun tiba-tiba saya terfikir, adakah jiran saya betul-betul membela kucing? Logikkah jika jiran saya membela kucing? Mana tahu kalau-kalau dia suka membela burung? Saya mula berasa tidak sedap hati. Saya ke dapur dengan perasaan takut dan gementar lalu membuka peti sejuk untuk mengambil air sejuk. Saya lihat banyak makanan yang bergelimpangan di dalam peti sejuk namun saya tidak mengendahkan mereka. Selepas meminum air, saya terus beredar ke ruang tamu untuk menyambung bermain Fesbuk. Setelah beberapa minit menekan butang "Home" Fesbuk setiap 10 saat, saya menjadi bosan yang teramat. Lalu saya membuka tab baru, dan memasuki blog saya iaitu Sound Machine. Lalu saya mula menulis sebuah cerita yang bertajuk "Pengalaman Seram Di Internet."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3721272411981599235?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3721272411981599235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/pengalaman-seram-di-internet.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3721272411981599235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3721272411981599235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/pengalaman-seram-di-internet.html' title='Pengalaman Seram Di Internet'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3722138517155506490</id><published>2011-03-16T15:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T15:11:45.134+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kapital City of Terengganu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Berkaitan dengan lawatan pendek aku ke Kuala Terengganu, aku memang rasa sedap sebab aku tak biasa pergi bandar-bandar besar macam ni. Kira yang kelmarin dulu tu kali pertama aku untuk bandar Kuala Terengganu. Walaupun tak ronda satu bandar penuh, tapi kira orait juga la. Dah macam katak bawah gelas pulak aku rasa. Ada banyak bangunan lama dan baru dengan kedai-kedai baru dan lama. Macam bangunan tempat terletaknya MekDonel tu, yang tu bangunan baru, dalam 4 5 tahun aku rasa. Tapi sayang, bangunan tu yang sepatutnya jadi pusat membeli-belah, cuma MekDonel yang kat bawah tu je yang beroperasi. Bangunan tu dah lama buka, menurut kawan aku, tapi entah apa masalahnya kedai-kedai lain tak beroperasi. Dalam tu aku masuk tengok semua gelap sampai ke atas. Belakang bangunan tu ada satu lagi bangunan yang masih dalam proses pembinaan. Kalau yang tu pun jadi macam kawan sebelah dia jugak, tak tahu la aku. Tapi terminal bas tepi tu memang hidup. Ye la, tempat orang tunggu, naik bas. Bangunan tu tingkat atas dia ada banyak kedai yang jual barang-barang untuk pelawat macam kain, kraftangan, benda-benda macam tu. Bawah tu belah luar ada sederet kaunter jual tiket bas. Dalam pulak ada gerai-gerai makanan, kira macam medan selera jugalah, untuk orang-orang yang tunggu bas, drebar-drebar bas, dan orang yang saja pergi lepak-lepak macam aku.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Syahbandar tu pulak, yang dekat tepi sungai, memang kena dengan jiwa aku. Aku memang suka tempat-tempat tepi sungai, tepi pantai. Banyak angin. Boleh relaks. Lepak tempat-tempat macam ni sejam dua seorang diri pun orait lagi rasanya. Dari situ boleh nampak Pulau Duyung, tempat orang lumba perahu layar. Sepanjang seberang sana tu ada macam pulau jugalah, yang memisahkan sungai tu dengan laut yang kat depan sana nu lagi. Aku hairan jugak bila tengok ada banyak juga tempat duduk bertingkat beratap, rupanya untuk tengok lumba perahu layar. Petang masa aku pergi situ pun memang ramai jugalah orang yang ambil angin kat situ. Ada yang memancing, ambil angin, berdating, macam-macam. Tepi tempat tempat duduk terakhir tu ada sederet kanopi besar tempat gerai-gerai makanan. Makan sambil tengok sungai pun sedap juga rasanya. Tempat makan tu kira dekat belakang pusat membeli-belah dan boling Astaka tu jugalah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tapi keseluruhannya, lawatan tak berbayar aku ni memang seronok la. Dah la jimat duit, dengan kawan pulak tu. Jarang sungguh aku dapat peluang macam ni. Dapat tengok-tengok bandar selain dari pekan Kemaman yang aku dah tak tahu nak pergi ke mana lagi dah sebab dah merata ceruk aku pergi. Terima kasih la aku ucapkan untuk kawan aku si Irfan ni dan jugak keluarga dia sebab ajak aku ke Kuala Terengganu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3722138517155506490?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3722138517155506490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/kapital-city-of-terengganu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3722138517155506490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3722138517155506490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/kapital-city-of-terengganu.html' title='Kapital City of Terengganu'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3275468819460460250</id><published>2011-03-16T01:12:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T01:29:48.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keepers of Holy Words II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ahad lepas aku sekali lagi ikut member aku Irfan ke Majlis Menghafaz Al-Quran Peringkat Negeri Terengganu. Kali ni mak dengan adik dia ikut sekali. Jadi memang macam sardin sikit la duduk dalam Waja 3 orang kat belakang. Pagi Ahad tu pukul 9.00, aku dikejutkan dengan panggilan telefon oleh Irfan ni, tanya nak ikut dia ke Kuala Terengganu ke tak. Aku dah la tak siap satu apa pun lagi; mulut pun lekat air liur basi lagi. Dalam lebih kurang setengah jam aku dah siap mandi dan kemas seluar baju, kali ni aku packing untuk 3 hari, walaupun perginya untuk 2 hari je.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Bertolak dalam pukul 11 sebelas jugak la. Sampai kat sana tengah hari- sembahyang di Masjid Terapung (yang sebenarnya taklah terapung pun), lepas tu pergi dan tinggal member aku tu kat Pejabat Agama untuk taklimat peserta. Ayah si Irfan ni sebenarnya suruh aku teman dia ni masuk taklimat, tapi member aku ni pulak berkeras nak pergi seorang, aku pun malas la nak berkepit 24 jam dengan dia. Tinggal dia kat situ, aku dengan keluarga dia ke medan selera baru dekat tepi Giant, makan nasi ayam. Kekok jugak la, ye la, dah aku dengan mak bapak adik dia je. Dia tak ada. Petang tu lepas ambil dia, terus ke hotel yang mak dia dah tempah. Bukan hotel besar pun- yang jenis hotel bajet dan berkongsi dengan bangunan kedai barang elektrik dan lain-lain. Tapi dalam tu kira okey jugak la, memang bagus. Memang hotel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Malam tu lepas makan kat kedai depan hotel tu, aku dengan Irfan ni pergi berjalan kaki ke tapak ekspo Syahbandar, tapak karnival Jom Heboh baru-baru ni. Gila. Dah la dua-dua berkopiah, dia ni pulak siap dengan kain pelikat, memang macam nak buat serbuan maksiat jugak la. Berjalan lebih kurang 15 minit, baru sampai kat sana. Irfan ni ingat nak tengok badminton kat TV gergasi tu, tapi aku rasa orang Kuala Tranung ni lebih suka tengok hoki rasanya. Lepas ushar-ushar ekspo, lepak-lepak tepi sungai ambil angin, masuk tempat shopping Astaka, kami pun mula berjalan balik ke hotel. Tapi satu lagi yang aku pelik pasal tempat ni, dari pukul 8 malam lagi dah kedai-kedai kat Tanjung ni tutup. Awal sungguh orang kat sini tidur mak aih. Yang ada pun cuma kedai-kedai makan tepi jalan tu. Lepas ke 7-Eleven depan nu sikit beli Slurpee, baru balik ke bilik. Aku tidur atas katil seorang diri- katil single. Bapak dan anak lelaki tidur kat bawah tengah-tengah antara 2 katil, katil satu lagi mak dengan anak perempuan. Malam tu sampai lewat malam diorang anak beranak ada tengok badminton kat TV, tapi aku dah tidur awal- aku bukan layan sangat pun sukan raket-bulu tangkis ni. Kaki lenguh tak payah cerita la. Lepas berlunjur, lipat, lepas lipat, berlunjur balik.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Isnin esoknya, sembahyang Subuh di Masjid Ladang. Sebenarnya tak sempat berjemaah pun; masuk-masuk je orang dah tahiyat akhir. Tapi masjid tu memang lawa. Aku pertama kali pergi. Besar juga. Lepas balik dan bersiap-siap, pergi makan nasi lemak di warung dan terus ke Pejabat Agama. Aku dengan baju kemeja lengan panjang yang aku beli di bundle untuk graduasi dulu pakai sama jaket. Berkasut berkopiah. Dressing ustad. Kawan aku pulak peserta, biasa la, macam pengantin. Berbaju Melayu siap bersamping. Lepas daftar untuk tujuan cabutan bertuah, masuk auditorium. Aku dengan bapak kawan aku ni duduk seat stail pawagam baris paling depan. Dia bagi aku kamera video untuk rakam orang mengaji. Dia sendiri guna kamera kecil biasa siap dengan kaki. Kira elok jugalah dia suruh aku jadi kameraman, walaupun aku agak takut nak handel alat-alat canggih ni, tapi sekurang-kurangnya taklah aku bantai membuta je masa orang sibuk mengaji. Kamera tu jugak aku gunakan untuk zoom dan ushar awek-awek yang datang menonton dan jugak yang jadi peserta. Hahaha. Keji sungguh. Tapi aku macam biasa, 2 3 kali jugak terlelap. Ada 2 kali sesi cabutan bertuah tak silap aku, tapi banyak budak sekolah je yang bertuah. Takpe, aku tunggu. Duduk dalam tu dari pagi sampai ke petang dalam pukul 3 lebih macam tu. Lepas makan hidangan tengah hari yang pengurusan dah sediakan, kitorang pun pergi ke Tanjung semula untuk cari tempat berehat dan mandi salin baju, sebab hotel yang semalam tu dah check out pagi tu. Majlis penutup dan keputusan pula malam tu baru diadakan. Jadi lepas dah jumpa satu hotel ni, kitorang pun dapat la berehat sementara tunggu malam. Hotel yang ni walaupun agak kureng sedikit, tapi tempat dia betul-betul depan Syahbandar yang agak sedap untuk lepak-lepak.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Tapi petang tu aku dengan Irfan ni tak tidur, kitorang pergi ronda-ronda bandar tu berjalan kaki sampai ke MekDonel untuk beli aiskrim, yang terletak tepi terminal bas, 3 4 blok dari hotel. Tapi walaupun aku tak tahu pun sebenarnya 3 4 blok tu jauh mana, tapi fuh, berpeluh juga aku berjalan. Sempat la juga lepak-lepak kat terminal bas tu, sambil berlagak tunggu bas untuk balik ke kampung, saja nak join orang-orang kat situ. Lepas dah bosan tengok orang tunggu bas, aku dengan dia pun berjalan ke Syahbandar tu balik, lalu jalan sepanjang masjid dan istana. Fuh. Dah macam pelancong asing pulak aku ni, ye la, tak pernah betul-betul sampai dan ronda-ronda bandar macam ni. Sempat juga lalu kat taman larangan tempat putera-puteri raja bermain dengan katak sakti dan bergurau dengan dayang-dayang. Lepas tu, pergi lepak tepi sungai, ambil angin. Memang sedap angin kat situ. Sambil tu tengok pak cik yang dah agak tua yang sedang asyik berjoget depan speaker besar yang mengalunkan irama dangdut. Ramai juga yang duk tengok pak cik tu. Aku pun tak tahu pak cik tu tengah high ke, nak melawak ke, nak bersenam ke, entah. Pukul 7 balik ke bilik hotel nak bersiap-siap. Lepas sembahyang Maghrib beserta jamak Isyak di surau depan hotel tu, aku duduk-duduk kat tepi gerai burger tepi surau tu sambil tunggu si Irfan ni yang baru turun nak sembahyang. Sempat juga aku sembang-sembang kosong dengan seorang abang ni yang berumur lebih kurang 40 lebih yang tengah tunggu burger. Aku syak dia ni drebar bas la kut, sebab kat situ pun memang tempat bas-bas tunggu penumpang. Rupa-rupanya dia ni pun dari Kemaman jugak, macam aku. Jauh sungguh tempat jumpa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Malam tu pukul 8 lebih lepas check out dari hotel, terus ke Pejabat Agama untuk sekali lagi daftar. Kali ni tiket cabutan bertuah yang lain. Tapi masa tu awal lagi jadi kitorang pun ke medan selera dulu, makan-makan. Aku dengan kawan aku ni baham nasi lemak ayam goreng dengan ice-blended- aku mangga, dia coklat. Tapi ice-blended kedai tu dengan ABC yang mak dia pesan memang jahat. Sebiji macam dalam gambar yang disangkakan hanya untuk hiasan semata-mata. Sedap pun macam dalam gambar. ABC tu siap aku yang habiskan dengan bawa sekali dengan mangkuk-mangkuk kertas ke dalam kereta. Di majlis penutup tu, lepas ucapan perasmian penutup yang membuatkan aku terlelap lagi, barulah umum keputusan dan lepas tu sesi pembahagian hadiah. Hadiah tak payah cakap la, ribu-ribu ringgit. Kawan aku si Irfan ni dapat nombor 2 dalam kategori dia, 20 juzuk. Dapat RM 4300, sekali dengan duit saguhati masa saringan itu hari. Pergh. Ada yang dapat RM 7000 paling banyak. Aku telan air liur je la. Tapi memang budak-budak menghafaz al-Quran ni banyak ganjaran, dunia dan akhirat. Bukan macam persepsi masyarakat yang dari dulu menganggap belajar bidang agama ni susah nak dapat kerja, susah nak kaya. Lepas tu ada sesi cabutan bertuah. Aku dah siap baiki rambut yang terjulur keluar dari kopiah, mana la tahu dapat naik pentas menang hadiah. Dan nama pertama yang diumumkan menang cabutan bertuah tu nama aku, Muhammad Khair, sekali dengan alamat yang aku tulis dalam tiket cabutan tu. Pergh. Memang bertuah sungguh. Nanti ramai la hafizah-hafizah yang hantar surat-surat cinta ke alamat rumah aku tu kang. Dan aku pun naik la pentas bersalam dan ambil hamper hadiah bernilai RM 100 yang berupa sebuah kalkulator, sebatang pen kaligrafi, CD tarannum, buku surah-surah pilihan, buku asas-asas fardu ain dan sebuah al-Quran. Bertolak balik pukul 11 lebih jugak. Si Irfan ni sibuk sambil bergurau suruh aku mula hafaz al-Quran dan masuk bertanding tahun depan. Tu pun sebab aku dah bergurau hari tu, kalau menang cabutan bertuah yang memang dah tahu dapat al-Quran, aku akan masuk bertanding. Dan rupa-rupanya Allah memakbulkan gurauan aku. Huhu. Oleh kerana dah lewat malam tu dan masa sampai pun dah nak pukul 2 pagi, aku tidur je rumah dia. Aku bantai tidur sampai pukul 10 pagi. Si Irfan ni langsung tak kejutkan aku. Jadi lepas mandi, makan mi goreng dan layan DVD Fast &amp;amp; Furious 4 dengan dia, tengah hari tu baru aku balik rumah bapak dia hantar. Rumah aku dengan dia tak la jauh pun. Taman je lain-lain, kampung sama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3275468819460460250?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3275468819460460250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/keepers-of-holy-words-ii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3275468819460460250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3275468819460460250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/keepers-of-holy-words-ii.html' title='Keepers of Holy Words II'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-7998036457496635268</id><published>2011-03-12T09:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T09:05:31.003+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Asia Pacifik Kable Network</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dear all,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Due to earthquake okkured in Japan, APCN(Asia Pacific Cable Network)2 S4 and S5 are down. Kitaibaraki is isolated from APCN2 at 2011-3-11 13:23UTC. Many cirkuits are affekted. We have summarized these ccts in attachment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Please kontakt us if necessary.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- as taken from the email received by the Emperor, who works as senior teknician monitoring underwater network kables at TM's Cherating Submarine Kable Landing Station.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-7998036457496635268?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/7998036457496635268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/asia-pacifik-kable-network.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7998036457496635268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7998036457496635268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/asia-pacifik-kable-network.html' title='Asia Pacifik Kable Network'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3787022921975286342</id><published>2011-03-12T00:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T02:01:03.132+08:00</updated><title type='text'>8.9-magnitude Terror</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Friday, an 8.9-magnitude earthquake struck 373 kilometres from Tokyo at 1446 hrs (1346 hrs lokal time) kausing several tsunamis to hit Japan koasts. Hundreds were dead as hundreds more were missing. Death toll is on rise while tens of thousands were forced to be evakuated. The quake and its aftershocks also shook central Tokyo and left Tokyo stranded. Thousands are stuck at the Narita International Airport as it was klosed down due to the major earthquake, while about 4 millions of homes in Tokyo and surrounding areas are having power shortage. The nuklear plants were reportedly safe and safely shut down though the Japanese authorities has ordered the prekautionary evakuation of the area around the Fukushima plant, which is one of four plants lokated klosest to the quake. No immediate danger was reported though the krews were having trouble in kooling it down. The quake was the latest in a series around Japan this week as there had been an earthquake with a preliminary magnitude of 6.3 in early Thursday off the koast of Honshu and another one with a magnitude of 7.2 off the same koast a day earlier, as reported by the kountry's meteorologikal agency.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- as edited from konstantly updated artikle in&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://edition.cnn.com/2011/WORLD/asiapcf/03/11/japan.quake/index.html"&gt;CNN Asia&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3787022921975286342?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3787022921975286342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/89-magnitude-terror.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3787022921975286342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3787022921975286342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/89-magnitude-terror.html' title='8.9-magnitude Terror'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6965068344117727926</id><published>2011-03-11T01:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T02:40:53.154+08:00</updated><title type='text'>1.2 milligram of Idontgiveadamn</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Have you seen on TV about illegal immigrants? You see how the law enforcers chase and hunt them? Arrest them? We know how they treat these immigrants- like eskaping animals. And about those legal visitors who smuggle drugs into our kountry, you know how they put them on trial and do everything they kan to make sure the drug smugglers pay for their krime. But what about OUR drug smugglers? We always read on newspaper and watch on TV about how Malaysians, girls especially, get arrested in foreign kountries for drug smuggling attempts. And how do our media report it? It is often that the arrested Malaysians are manipulated by syndikates. Get tricked into being &lt;i&gt;drug donkeys&lt;/i&gt; without their acknowledgement. Are they really oblivious to what they're sent to foreign kountries for? And how does &lt;i&gt;our&lt;/i&gt; government treat such kases? They send everyone they kan to save and bring back the so-kalled drug donkeys alive, use whatever &lt;i&gt;diplomatik&lt;/i&gt; shit they got with the governments of the kountries. Why not just let these drug donkeys pay for their stupidity; to accept the &lt;i&gt;offer for a nice vakation&lt;/i&gt; in the first place?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And how do we know that they're really tricked into it? For all we know, these donkeys DO know what they're doing and pretend to be totally innocent- of kourse they MUST do that, it's a matter of life and death.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6965068344117727926?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6965068344117727926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/12-milligram-of-idontgiveadamn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6965068344117727926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6965068344117727926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/12-milligram-of-idontgiveadamn.html' title='1.2 milligram of Idontgiveadamn'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6328140560686626378</id><published>2011-03-10T03:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T03:21:25.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth : Fucked Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know I deserved all that- to be treated like an asshole. To be skorched with hatred for what I did. Haha. I know I'm an asshole. The most useless family member. I do nothing but waste their food and money and elektricity. I kontribute nothing. Why should I be whining for what they said to me tonight? That was nothing to be kompared to my uselessness. And one of the twins also said I brought her such a shame- I've embarrassed her in front of her friend and doktor for what I've done few hours back. The revving thing. Something that showed my impatience. Well, I AM impatient. And yeah, you know what, I'm sick of all of you. I'm sick of MYSELF. I'm sick of being a jerk. Well, there's no one to blame but me. It's all my fault.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hello, this is loser speaking. My name is Asshole.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6328140560686626378?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6328140560686626378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/truth-fucked-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6328140560686626378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6328140560686626378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/truth-fucked-up.html' title='Truth : Fucked Up'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6593712202951466599</id><published>2011-03-10T03:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T03:07:46.290+08:00</updated><title type='text'>International Women's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday evening of Wednesday, I picked up my mother and my sister at their workplace- they work at the same place. And Mother gave her friend a ride. I drove to her friend's house like usual; at about 40 kph, already konsidered fast by my mother. After dropping her friend, it was about about 2 or 3 minutes later when my sister started talking. About another people. I'm not a good person either but damn I hate her talking. And I decided to show some protest. So I started driving recklessly- giving a few emergency brakes. They were already noisy nagging at me about my driving. And when I arrived at a bump, that was where I gave the most emergency brake which sent them thrown forward. And my sister then shouted furiously at me asking me what was I so mad about to drive that way. I didn't say anything and just kept driving, a little slower this time. They were still angry with me; that damn sister was angrier. I still didn't talk to her when we were at home. I still don't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And few hours before now, I went to fetch her twin who works at a klinik. She was on her night shift which ended at about 10.05 tonight. One thing I hate about fetching her is the waiting part. Her work's end time depends on the last patient leaving so there are times where I have to wait for 10, 15 and even 30 minutes. That's shit. I hate waiting. And so was tonight. Her twin told me to go there at 10 and said she was already done but when I reached there after rushing, she was still working, though the last patient was just leaving. But I still had to wait for like 10 minuites- it doesn't matter how little time I needed to wait but she still wasn't done, unlike what her twin had told me. I was pissed off. I revved the engine a few times, shouted in the kar alone, and knocking impatiently on the steering and against the roof. When she and a friend of hers finally got in the kar, I quickly let the klutch and launched forward. She too, told me to slow down, beware of kars ahead and other things that I already knew. Yeah, I know I just got my licence like 2 months ago but I SURE KNOW HOW TO DRIVE you piece of shit. But I just fucked it off and did as her said. And there was a kar- WITH A FUCKING ASSHOLE DRIVING IN IT- going out from a small road to the main road I was on and that was kind of bullshit. My sister got mad about it and she hit the horn while I was driving silently. Okay. That was kool. After dropping her friend, and when we were already at the junktion of the street to my house, there was another kar koming from the opposite side. I waited for it to go straight towards my side before turning right, but then it turned to the same road I was going to turn without giving any signal. That triggered it; I'd been mad since the waiting part so I hit the horn for a few sekonds. And the kar pulled out at a house just a few doors from mine- it was my neighbour. I don't need to tell how mad my sister was at me for doing that. We got home and she exploded it out to everyone; and adding to it was my mom's story about how I'd driven and akted since the evening. They were all angry- the twins were loudest while Father was eating silently. Women, I hate them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6593712202951466599?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6593712202951466599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/international-womens-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6593712202951466599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6593712202951466599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/international-womens-day.html' title='International Women&apos;s Day'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-9208548494560134852</id><published>2011-03-07T19:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T02:12:21.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack and the Beanstalk</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I'm not sure if it's kalled stalking; for me, it's just getting in touch, so the person whom we used to have in relationship with doesn't just vanish just like that. Well, if you konsider it as stalking, then, what the hell. I do that too. There's nothing inappropriate in knowing what our friends are doing. Knowing how their life's going. I don't know- I don't want to make a generalisation; maybe there are inappropriate stalkers- but between us, I think it's just fine. It's just that we find it might be a little awkward to konfront each other regarding serious matters, feelings for example. Haha. We're stalking the stalkers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-9208548494560134852?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/9208548494560134852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/jack-and-beanstalk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/9208548494560134852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/9208548494560134852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/jack-and-beanstalk.html' title='Jack and the Beanstalk'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-887812614482319579</id><published>2011-03-06T02:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T01:10:23.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bread Barbeque</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've been someone whose age is 18 years old for almost 12 days now. And I am still what I was when I was 17. Not that I expekted anything to change so drastikally after my birthday; it's just a fucking number. I'm still not working anywhere right now; I never even tried to find any job. It's time to be a kompletely lazy ass now, for the next few months. What the hell, I've been such a useless fuck all these years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Aktually, I don't really have anything to write about these days. Except the other day where my friends and I went to a river and enjoyed ourselves there. Yeah, it was quite exciting; I didn't know there is such a place here in my distrikt. Well, it takes about 30 minutes of driving to go there but sure, I kan just go there again next time when I feel like in need for a good time. Maybe not so good any more, I don't know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-887812614482319579?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/887812614482319579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/bread-barbeque.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/887812614482319579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/887812614482319579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/03/bread-barbeque.html' title='Bread Barbeque'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6771472971207095654</id><published>2011-02-25T02:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T02:12:45.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving Underage</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Ibu, aku tak nak minta banyak untuk hari jadi aku yang baru lepas masa 23 Februari lepas. Aku cuma nak spaghetti. Tolong la buat spaghetti.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Dah lama gua tak makan spaghetti. Kali terakhir gua makan mi goreng ala mafia tu masa gua duduk kat Itali, masa jadi pemandu peribadi The Godfather dulu. Dengar katanya ibu gua nak buat parti hari jadi untuk gua Sabtu ni. Ada kek 8 tingkat ala-ala kek kahwin dengar ceritanya lagi. Entah-entah ibu gua nak bagi hadiah berupa seorang isteri kut. Mana la tahu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6771472971207095654?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6771472971207095654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/leaving-underage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6771472971207095654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6771472971207095654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/leaving-underage.html' title='Leaving Underage'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3714768375989040865</id><published>2011-02-25T01:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T01:42:51.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keepers of Holy Words</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;22 Februari, Selasa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Gua ada satu kawan menghafaz Quran, Irfan namanya. Minggu lepas dia ada balik Kemaman ni, dan hari ni (Selasa) dia ajak gua teman dia pergi ke Kuala Terengganu, sebab dia nak masuk Ujian Saringan Majlis Menghafaz Quran Peringkat Negeri. Jadi malam ni gua tidur rumah dia, sebab pagi esok (Rabu) nak bertolak awal pagi ke sana. Gua pergi rumah dia pukul 10.30 dan dia ajak tidur terus. Pukul 12 lebih juga baru gua terlelap. Macam gua pulak yang nak masuk bertanding.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;23 Februari, Rabu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Pagi ni bangun awal. Pukul 4.00. Bertolak pukul 4.45 macam tu dengan kereta ayah dia yang bawa. Pukul 6 sampai Marang berhenti sembahyang Subuh. Kereta bukannya banyak pagi-pagi buta jadi sebab tu cepat juga sampai. 7 lebih, sampai di Kuala Terengganu makan di warung bawah jambatan. Gua nak baham nasi dagang, tapi terambil pulut kuning yang bungkusannya dalam daun pisang juga, macam nasi dagang yang kawan gua makan. Jahanam. Lepas tu sebungkus lagi nasi lemak yang ada kacang panjang. Aih, pelik nasi lemak ni gua kata. Lepas kawan gua berak dan bersiap-siap pakai baju Melayu bersongkok bersampin macam pengantin, baru kami ke Pejabat Agama nak menikah. Tapi sayang pengantin perempuan lari entah ke mana, kami bertiga pun pergilah daftar kemasukan ke auditorium tempat bertanding tu. Masa tu gua dah berkopiah berjaket, macam pegawai agama mari berdakwah untuk orang asli. Mujur la juga dalam tu ada air-kond, tak la gua bermandi peluh dalam tu. Giliran kawan gua nombor 13, jadi lepas giliran dia menjawab soalan-soalan hakim sambil bersila di atas pentas, masa tu pun dah tengah hari, kami pun keluar dari tempat tu pergi makan nasi kukus. Si Irfan tu pun boleh tahan la juga masa menjawab soalan. Lima-lima soalan dia jawab, sambung ayat yang dibaca oleh hakim. Ada juga peserta lain yang naik pentas semata-mata untuk bersila di depan penonton tanpa menjawab sepatah pun ayat dibaca hakim. Tak nampak ayat tu kat mana katanya.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Petang tu juga gua baru tahu yang kami akan tinggal sehari lagi kat sana sebab keputusan saringan keluar keesokkan harinya, Khamis. Tak guna betul kawan gua ni yang tak beritahu gua awal-awal. Gua mana ada bawa baju. Dalam perjalanan ke Setiu, tempat kawan gua belajar di sekolah pondok juga tempat kami tidur malam tu, sempat la juga kami bersiar-siar. Gua pun bukan selalu pergi ke Kuala Terengganu ni. Ke Setiu pun belum pernah rasanya. Lalu juga gua di Lapangan Terbang Sultan Mahmud Kuala Terengganu yang tak pernah gua nampak depan mata sebelum ni. Ada la 3 4 buah kapal terbang kecil dengan satu jet peribadi yang tak tahu siapa punya. Hadiah hari jadi gua rasa-rasanya. Sampai kat rumah sekolah pondok kawan gua, kami tidur dulu. Petang tu keluar pergi berjalan-jalan (naik kereta sebenarnya) ke Bandar Permaisuri lebih kurang 5 minit dari rumah dan seterusnya pergi makan sup ekor, sekali dengan 2 orang budak seguru dengan kawan gua. Malam tu awal juga gua, kawan gua serta ayah kawan gua tidur. Sejuk tak payah cakap la rumah kayu kena pulak tidur bawah kipas atas lantai di ruang tamu yang tak ada kerusi atau meja. Rumah tu memang sederhana. 4 bilik, 2 buat tidur, 2 lagi buat stor. Belakang rumah ada kandang lembu dengan penghuni-penghuninya sekali. Kawasan tu memang kampung. Jauh dari bandar. Kira pertama kali juga la gua ke tempat macam tu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;24 Februari, Khamis&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Pagi tu, pukul 8.30 macam tu lepas makan roti canai dengan tok imam merangkap tok guru kawan gua, kami pun bertolak la ke Kuala Terengganu semula, untuk majlis penutup dan keputusan ujian saringan tu. Lepas habis kategori juzuk 1-30 untuk hari tu, dapat tahu pulak keputusan ujian saringan. Ada 3 kategori; 1-10 juzuk, 1-20 juzuk, dan 1-30 juzuk. Setiap kategori nak pilih 3 lelaki dengan 3 perempuan yang terbaik. Kawan gua masuk kategori 1-20 juzuk. Boleh la dia tempat ketiga seterusnya melayakkan diri untuk masuk peringkat akhir 8 Mac ni. Sebelum tu dia ni memang tak yakin langsung, siap suruh ajak balik awal tak awal sebelum orang nak bagi keputusan. Dah lulus tempat ketiga tu bukan main suka dia dan ayah dia, gua pun tumpang la juga suka sikit. Petang tu lepas balik semula ke sekolah pondoknya, ada seorang lagi kawan segurunya yang umur 24 tahun ajak pergi mandi air terjun. Gua pun memang dah kemaruk nak pergi, sebab semalam tu memang dah ingat nak pergi tapi tak jadi. Lepas berkemas-kemas barang, kami berenam 2 kereta pun pergi la ke air terjun yang perjalanannya makan masa dalam 20 minit juga kut. Pergh. Memang gua gembira sungguh dapat mandi air terjun ni. Air terjun tak ada pun sebenarnya, tapi macam jeram hutan lipur macam tu. Tapi tempat air tu memang syok sungguh la. Berapa kali juga gua nak lemas, sebab air dia dalam dan gua pun tak sempat nak habiskan kelas berenang gua masa di California dulu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lebih kurang sejam lebih lepas tu, gua dan ayah kawan gua ni pun bertolak balik. Kawan gua ni tak balik, dia tinggal kat sekolah pondok dia tu je sampai hari bertanding bulan depan. Gua mula-mula bimbang juga nak balik berdua dengan ayah dia ni, bukan apa, takut kekok pulak nanti. Tapi ayah dia ni memang lawak juga dalam alim-alim dia tu pun. Waktu balik, kami lalu jalan lain, jalan yang pedalaman sikit, jalan yang gua tak pernah lalu atau tahu wujud sepanjang hayat gua. Memang pedalaman, sumpah. Lalu ikut jalan ke Tasik Kenyir, Pelong, Kuala Ping (sekadar yang gua ingat). Tengok rumah-rumah orang kat tempat-tempat tu terfikir pulak gua; macam mana la orang-orang ni boleh duduk kawasan macam ni? Jauh dari bandar. Tapi tu la, orang bandar manja macam gua ni memang takkan faham keseronokan duduk kat tempat macam ni. Petang-petang boleh memancing di atas jambatan walaupun tinggi jambatan tu dari air sungai kat bawah macam bangunan 5 tingkat. Boleh memecut laju tanpa risaukan bonggok-bonggok celaka. Dan macam-macam lagi benda yang gua takkan tahu. Tapi dari awal perjalanan memang gua suka bersembang dengan ayah kawan gua ni. Kalau tak bersembang, berlawak. Kalau tak berlawak, berzikir ikut CD yang dia pasang. Tapi apa-apa pun, memang gua suka trip 2 hari ni dan juga bila dapat balik rumah tengok muka ibu dan ayah gua sendiri kira-kira 2 jam lebih yang lalu, pukul 11. Haha. Rindu sungguh. Dah la masa gua bertukar dari budak bawah umur ke orang cukup umur tu gua tak ada kat rumah. Sedih juga la rasanya.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lepas ni agak-agaknya boleh la gua menghisap rokok secara terang-terangan tanpa segan silu ya tak? Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3714768375989040865?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3714768375989040865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/keepers-of-holy-words.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3714768375989040865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3714768375989040865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/keepers-of-holy-words.html' title='Keepers of Holy Words'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6085092960081364138</id><published>2011-02-16T18:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T18:22:41.812+08:00</updated><title type='text'>X | /</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Woah. Seronok juga hari ni. Hari ni gua bersama Ayopan dan rakannya merangkap kawan baru gua, Haiqal ke Mesra Mall, Kerteh. Kami pergi naik kereta Kancil gua pandu, sebab sedang molek bapak gua cakap tak nak guna Kancil tu hari ni. Mula-mula sampai dah terkam bermain bowling dulu. Dua game juga main tadi. Tak ingat pulak gua berapa kali gua strike, banyak sangat. Yang lain semua spare. Si Ayopan adalah berapa kali buat gaya orang tak rajin jumpa bowling. Lepas Ayopan beli baju dekat Reject Shop, kami bertolak pula ke atas sikit dari Mesra Mall, Bandar Baru Kerteh, rasanya. Lepas sembahyang di masjid, pergi McDonald pulak makan tengah hari. Macam orang duit tak habis. Gua bedal bubur ayam saiz besar dengan jus oren pun saiz besar juga. Phew. Dalam ingat nak balik tu, tersinggah pulak di Pantai Kemasik. Pergh. Bermain di gigi air pantai, memanjat batu-batu besar, membasahkan seluar, mengambil gambar- macam threesome gay pulak gua rasa. Lepas tu singgah pulak tepi jalan minum air nyior. Ingat nak minum je hasrat di hati, eh, ada mi sup pulak kat situ. Jadi, terpaksalah bantai mi sup semangkuk seorang lagi. Lepas tu barulah balik sampai rumah dalam keadaan meter minyak menunjukkan E- lampu amaran oren bernyala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S : Tak ingat pulak gua yang Mesra Mall terletak di Kemasik, bukan Kerteh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6085092960081364138?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6085092960081364138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/x.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6085092960081364138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6085092960081364138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/x.html' title='X | /'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6190748037127279390</id><published>2011-02-16T18:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T18:03:40.649+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sumbarl de Kerrang!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lepas tengok iCarly tengah malam semalam, dan lepas putuskan yang gua sudah bosan online Fesbuk, gua ke dapur mencari makanan. Dan ketika inilah gua dapat tahu yang gua ada bakat memasak. Tengok bawah tudung saji ada lagi sambal kerang untuk nasi lemak pagi semalam. Sebelum ni gua tak gemar makan kerang, hanyir katanya. Namun kerang mula masuk dalam senarai makanan gua sejak beberapa tahun yang lepas, lepas gua mula akil baligh. Berbalik kepada sambal kerang yang sudah sejuk itu, gua pun memutuskan yang ianya lebih enak dimakan kalau panas sedikit. Lalu gua pun memindahkan sambal kerang tersebut dari dalam mangkuk ke dalam kuali yang sudah tersedia di atas dapur bekas kakak-kakak gua memasak mi segera beberapa jam sebelum itu. Jam menunjukkan pukul 1.30 pagi. Gua mengacau-ngacau sambal kerang yang sudah kering tersebut sambil menunggu sehingga ia berasap. Lepas dah berasap, gua angkat, letak dalam mangkuk kembali, dan makan dengan sos cili Life. Nikmat sungguh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Lepas tu, masa pukul 1.40 macam tu, sedang gua bersiap-siap untuk tidur, terdengarlah gua akan satu bunyi seakan-akan bunyi CPU komputer menderam. Tapi komputer semua dah tutup dah. Gua fikir bunyi paip, tapi dekat sinki tu senyap je. Gua ingat ada objek terbang tak dikenali merayau-rayau dekat kawasan perumahan gua ni, mungkin cari gua barangkali. Sebab sebelum ni pun gua dah pernah dengar bunyi tu, tengah malam buta juga. *Masa ni musik latar dia lagu tema X-Files bunyi guna mulut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6190748037127279390?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6190748037127279390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/sumbarl-de-kerrang.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6190748037127279390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6190748037127279390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/sumbarl-de-kerrang.html' title='Sumbarl de Kerrang!'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5847498874388536958</id><published>2011-02-10T10:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T10:19:40.464+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Listen to the Radio</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Empat lima hari ni gua asyik menghadap muka sama je- Ayopan. Baik keluar lepak-lepak, teman pergi mencari kerja, layan cerita dalam komputer, semua dengan dia. Takut pulak gua ada orang cop gua gay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;TV rumah gua ni pun semenjak dua tiga hari ni dah pandai buat perangai. Dari enam siaran yang ada, yang boleh tengok cuma tiga. Dalam pada gua cuba tune balik channel-channel yang berbelang-belang tu, jumpa pulak dua lagi channel baru. Sekarang, gua ada LAPAN channel. Walaupun peratusan kebolehtontonan tu agaklah rendah. Jahanam.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5847498874388536958?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5847498874388536958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/dont-listen-to-radio.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5847498874388536958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5847498874388536958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/dont-listen-to-radio.html' title='Don&apos;t Listen to the Radio'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1147362466227922230</id><published>2011-02-02T16:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T16:19:11.212+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Element of Risk</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We're going to leave for Dungun this evening. I think we'll stay there for 3 or 4 days, yeah. Great. I need time to get away from all this thing, things about me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1147362466227922230?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1147362466227922230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/element-of-risk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1147362466227922230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1147362466227922230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/element-of-risk.html' title='Element of Risk'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3569758102679913794</id><published>2011-02-01T18:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T18:43:58.114+08:00</updated><title type='text'>rEVOLution</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So, starting from now on, I'll have to learn to appreciate others and love them as everyone is basikally equal. Everyone is worth loving, though I hate to enkourage this feeling to grow. Also, learn to accept people the way they are, and bear in mind that no one is superior to one another. I know I've been trying to tell these things to myself since before, but this time, I need to really grasp that koncept and make it a part of me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3569758102679913794?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3569758102679913794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/revolution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3569758102679913794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3569758102679913794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/revolution.html' title='rEVOLution'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-2008772159112687643</id><published>2011-02-01T15:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T15:10:38.885+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Venokatio fo Kienish</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've realised this some time ago but I just realised now that my narcissistik personality disorder is at a dangerous level that it worries me sick now. To talk about it, I don't know where to start. It grows worse as I grow older, though I extremely doubt if I grow maturer. Every time I learn about something new, I try to find something in it that I kan relate to me. And whenever people talk to me about my opinion on certain issues, as a way to fight my indecisive and dualism problem, I try hard to klarify my thoughts and opinions before I bekome too absorbed with myself and what I think, and start ignoring what others say. I'm not sure if I'm over sensitively judging my aktions, but it does make me feel skared to know the fakt that I might be that kind of person. Or that I really am a narcissist. And other things that make me a narcissist inklude always checking myself in the mirror and always trying to be different from others. Yeah, I go to look in the mirror how I look like more than once in every hour. This has been long worse since we have a big mirror on the wall of our living room. Haha. Shit. And about trying to be different from others, I'm not sure if that's from my narcissism or my non-konformism, though I like the idea of me being a non-konformist, as a way to be more rebellious. I don't know. Perhaps, I fall in love with myself. That's fucking disgusting. Or perhaps I'm just an introvert, of in serious kase.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And yeah, this Sound Machine is another example to show that I'm excessively preokkupied with matters regarding my personal issues, besides my using of Ks, though it was first inspired by Deutsch, I've since made it to symbolise my identity. I skare the shit out of myself. Freaky psykopath.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-2008772159112687643?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/2008772159112687643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/venokatio-fo-kienish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2008772159112687643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2008772159112687643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/02/venokatio-fo-kienish.html' title='Venokatio fo Kienish'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-341523854663344801</id><published>2011-01-27T23:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T23:47:23.302+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Intellektual-like Guy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Emperor had told me to go for an eye test to make glasses for me when I kouldn't really see the traffik lights when I was driving back from Dungun with him some days ago. Kouldn't really &lt;i&gt;see&lt;/i&gt; the lights, that's skary, I think. Haha. So I thought of repairing his old DKNY frame for my new glasses. He wore that back when he was still unmarried with Mom. Haha. Vintage, I told them. But he insisted me on buying a new one so that's fine. And this morning we went to the bank to bank in my prize money cheque and make an ATM kard, before going to the eyewear store and make a pair of glasses for me. I looked for one that looks like my old man's DKNY, but instead I found a wayfarer frame. And I like wayfarer so I picked it. And now I'm already wearing that. They think it makes me look old, but I think, I'M A CLARK KENT. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-341523854663344801?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/341523854663344801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/intellektual-like-guy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/341523854663344801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/341523854663344801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/intellektual-like-guy.html' title='Intellektual-like Guy'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5101664637894114229</id><published>2011-01-20T20:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T20:57:33.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Akross The Universe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Shitty- that's what I really feel about myself right now. I'm just spending my time on Internet, television, eating, going out once a while, sleeping- oh God. It kan't be more useless than this. On Fesbuk, people talk about their jobs, hobbies- something that they're doing to okkupy themselves and get money. But me? Haha. Damn. I really kontribute nothing but wastes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One of the reasons I know why I never try to find a job is that I don't know how to interakt with people. That's the main problem of being an introvert. I always blame that, bekause it's true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5101664637894114229?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5101664637894114229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/akross-universe.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5101664637894114229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5101664637894114229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/akross-universe.html' title='Akross The Universe'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4977794088608844661</id><published>2011-01-11T23:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T23:10:51.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Unhonourable Truth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was a great hangout. We went to Mesra Mall and watched Gulliver's Travel, apart from having fun striking pins in bowling. Window shopping was of kourse also an aktivity. I'd been searching for jacket aktually. A khaki jacket. But I didn't find it there, instead I just decided to just buy it at an outlet in The Store. Yeah, I went out again tonight, alone, to purchase it. I'd had a look on all the outlets here in Cukai earlier, and the one where I bought the jacket is the only one available of what I wanted. It's a khaki jacket, for a price of RM79.90. I really saved my money, haha, 'kause I used the money Mom gave me this morning for the hangout. Shit. I really sound like a fucking spoiled brat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4977794088608844661?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4977794088608844661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/unhonourable-truth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4977794088608844661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4977794088608844661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/unhonourable-truth.html' title='An Unhonourable Truth'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1377787558468399965</id><published>2011-01-05T16:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T16:51:06.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pizza Hut Delivery</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've passed the test today with the marks for Part III just enough to not fail. I was relieved to see the marks when I got out of the kar though the tester, a female, sounded pretty strikt when we were at the town's traffik light, asking me about where I put my signal lights. "In your pocket?" she asked. No, it was in YOUR pocket.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1377787558468399965?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1377787558468399965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/pizza-hut-delivery.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1377787558468399965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1377787558468399965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/pizza-hut-delivery.html' title='Pizza Hut Delivery'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6794342157312675935</id><published>2011-01-04T02:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T02:04:58.337+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Driven III</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've been attending the driving lessons for this kouple of weeks and though I feel like I've learnt so many times but I still haven't perfekted the kourse. The test is on this Wednesday and I still doubt if I kould pass it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TSILOO07I2I/AAAAAAAAAHw/mJwIN_JZ39U/s1600/driving%2Blesson.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="268" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TSILOO07I2I/AAAAAAAAAHw/mJwIN_JZ39U/s400/driving%2Blesson.bmp" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6794342157312675935?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6794342157312675935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/driven-iii.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6794342157312675935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6794342157312675935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/driven-iii.html' title='Driven III'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TSILOO07I2I/AAAAAAAAAHw/mJwIN_JZ39U/s72-c/driving%2Blesson.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1797885703356302405</id><published>2011-01-04T02:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T02:03:23.362+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Russian Block</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TSIOpc_JsII/AAAAAAAAAH4/5GgO11MP9Uw/s1600/tetris.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="292" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TSIOpc_JsII/AAAAAAAAAH4/5GgO11MP9Uw/s320/tetris.bmp" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And I also have a new addiktion now, I think. It's Tetris. Or Russia Block, akkording to my phone. I play it everyday now; while waiting for my turn to drive, before I sleep, and now in Fesbuk too. It's even played in battle mode in that applikation. Ah, time changes everything. But now that I play it frequently, the images of those koloured blocks, or also known by the name tetrominoes, are always in my mind. I guess after this I'll start seeing things in block forms. And tendency to arrange things in neat arrangement will possibly inkrease too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;You, get in line so I kan make you disappear, NOW!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1797885703356302405?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1797885703356302405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/russian-block.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1797885703356302405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1797885703356302405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2011/01/russian-block.html' title='Russian Block'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TSIOpc_JsII/AAAAAAAAAH4/5GgO11MP9Uw/s72-c/tetris.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-506429921598583136</id><published>2010-12-27T17:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T17:39:59.942+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding Ceremony</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Bored riding around the same town everyday, Ayopan and I travelled a bit further yesterday, to Telaga Simpul beach. We spent some time there, throwing rocks into the water and talking about stupid stuffs. At 6, we thought it was time to make our way home. The place aktually is quite hidden; it is at the end of a small road passing in front of a gas terminal. On our way out, I spotted something quite beautiful lokated on the hill. So I told Ayopan to follow me and we turned to another road left to the main one. It is a Chinese cemetery. Of kourse I'd been to the beach before but I'd never realised that there is a cemetery there, not until yesterday evening. It was spooky, still and timeless, and at the same time intriguing. I kame with the idea of kapturing photos of myself there. I thought, why not? This kould be a good muse on Facebook. So I asked Ayopan to take my photos with his kamera phone. And I trembled as I klimbed onto the nearest grave- this place really sent chills down my spine. And until now, it's still stuck in my mind, and I still feel what I felt when I was there yesterday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TRhefVQYBbI/AAAAAAAAAHo/1J4CW5JpvcE/s1600/cemetery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TRhefVQYBbI/AAAAAAAAAHo/1J4CW5JpvcE/s400/cemetery.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The cemetery where I marry the sea.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-506429921598583136?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/506429921598583136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/wedding-ceremony.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/506429921598583136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/506429921598583136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/wedding-ceremony.html' title='Wedding Ceremony'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TRhefVQYBbI/AAAAAAAAAHo/1J4CW5JpvcE/s72-c/cemetery.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6529978458288134324</id><published>2010-12-25T23:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-25T23:50:29.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holes of Gold</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Gold digging has been hurting lately. I don't know what's wrong with the goldmine. Perhaps the drying blood. And I know not what has kaused it to bleed in the first place. Ouch!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There's another kind of digging and it is just as unpleasant. More to disgusting, aktually. Disgusted by something that was thought to be not disgusting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6529978458288134324?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6529978458288134324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/holes-of-gold.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6529978458288134324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6529978458288134324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/holes-of-gold.html' title='Holes of Gold'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4100365355377470419</id><published>2010-12-23T18:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T18:55:49.442+08:00</updated><title type='text'>White Noise</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TRMqa1zWRnI/AAAAAAAAAHc/JsOCbrzQRuE/s1600/Skyzophrenyk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TRMqa1zWRnI/AAAAAAAAAHc/JsOCbrzQRuE/s1600/Skyzophrenyk.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Emerging from kaos.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4100365355377470419?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4100365355377470419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/white-noise.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4100365355377470419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4100365355377470419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/white-noise.html' title='White Noise'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TRMqa1zWRnI/AAAAAAAAAHc/JsOCbrzQRuE/s72-c/Skyzophrenyk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4372268078770301062</id><published>2010-12-21T02:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T02:47:11.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Malaysian Top Sekret</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;KONTENT DELETED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Due to the sensitivity and the potential harm it may kause to the kountry, the kontent has been removed from this site and the author is subjekted to the Internal Sekurity Akt 1960 for attempting to publicise a top sekret of Malaysian government.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4372268078770301062?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4372268078770301062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/malaysian-top-sekret.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4372268078770301062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4372268078770301062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/malaysian-top-sekret.html' title='Malaysian Top Sekret'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-513332318808923424</id><published>2010-12-20T02:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T02:11:43.107+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbow Konnektion</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hey, it's midnight. At this moment, even when there are millions I know who are sleeping, all kind of things are being done by various people all around the world. Skydiving, having sex, writing blogs, studying globe, killing people, eating cereal, surfing waves- pretty much EVERYTHING. I'm just wondering; is there any who is doing the same like what I'm doing, that is wondering about this thing? If there is, I feel like we're kinda konnekted, somehow, no matter how stranger we are to each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Did I just make you think the same, whoever you are? Do you feel what I feel?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-513332318808923424?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/513332318808923424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/rainbow-konnektion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/513332318808923424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/513332318808923424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/rainbow-konnektion.html' title='Rainbow Konnektion'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3773979749515362431</id><published>2010-12-14T13:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T13:48:39.718+08:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Apokalypse Tanks</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Haha. I read my old posts again. I was searching for a term, aktually. A funny Chinese name we found written on the box of a measuring device in Physiks lab last year. Ah. Old days. Searching through the posts, made me realise how I used to write almost everyday back then. Now, there are only about 4 or 5 posts per month. Haha. I like writing, I do. Maybe I just don't feel much and there's nothing much to write about these days. Well, I'm still spending my time, my abundant free time at home now. I go out sometimes with Ayopan, and I've been planning in my mind for going for movies and maybe having fun at the water park. I plan to go to Remy's place too, with some other friends I'll ask later. Hurm. No books in these rainy days, like last year? My sister got a new book and maybe, I'll read that later. Things I'm busy with now are getting online, watching TV, playing Red Alert, eating, sleeping, farting, suffering pain of the wound from the accident, and fucking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3773979749515362431?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3773979749515362431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/7-apokalypse-tanks.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3773979749515362431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3773979749515362431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/7-apokalypse-tanks.html' title='7 Apokalypse Tanks'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3013420282766254642</id><published>2010-12-07T14:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T14:50:16.362+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Muharram the First</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It saddens my konscience how this beginning of new year doesn't seem too important to me. I'm all about planning to enjoy the freedom, for which I'm bound to explode now. Everything gets mixed up; excitement for the post-exam period which I'll be in soon, loath and exhaustion I have to endure before reaching it, and hatred that is now fading, as I'll be leaving its source in just a kouple of days from now. And I know I should be excited to leave all this, but in the same time I feel like losing, the feeling I always feel every time I get to the end of something. I know, it's totally fucked up. But it'll be a new life; I'll no longer be a dog to the skool, though I'm still one to a bigger system out of the skool, nonetheless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Let's just wait and have fun when all this ends soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3013420282766254642?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3013420282766254642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/muharram-first.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3013420282766254642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3013420282766254642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/muharram-first.html' title='Muharram the First'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-978787435300997065</id><published>2010-12-04T01:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T01:18:28.078+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Expekted, Unavoided</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've always been imagining my death in road accident. And every time I'm riding on the road, I keep thinking something bad would happen should I be less kareful, or should my death greet me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We'd planned to go to Aiman's place, to study for our exam. So I went to Ayopan's place first, and from there, I kontinued going to Binjai with him. And halfway to there, he was already far ahead of me. That didn't matter, of kourse. I had my tinted eyeshield down way from the beginning. It limited my sight, but I was arrogant; "I kan see good enough, even from inside this eyeshield." And I kept my speed konstant, trying to katch Ayopan ahead. And there was an expo just beside the road and there were men monitoring the traffik with their flash light stick. I was startled at first as I thought they were police doing a roadblock. Realising they were men from the expo, I kept my speed, in the same time looking out karefully not to hit the kones they put in the middle of the road. And the next thing I knew, I was already on my side, falling hard on the road. I knew I'd hit someone. I got up quickly and people already gathered around me, asking if I was alright and helping with my motorcykle. I was lucky to have them, really. The ones in charge to keep the traffik. They gave me medicine and got me a plastik chair and tissue. One of them also tried to fix the little damage on the motorcykle, but I was lucky it still kould start and move. And after few friendly questions from them and other onlookers, I made my way home, with my eyeshield wide open. I only got my left ankle wounded, with the middle toe kracked, I think. And some skratches on my hands and that was all. Really, I don't kare what happened on me; I only feel sorry for my old engine. Ugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And Mom has made it klear to me that I should not ride at night again, not until I've done the exam. Lucky Emperor was quite easy with this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-978787435300997065?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/978787435300997065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/expekted-unavoided.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/978787435300997065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/978787435300997065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/12/expekted-unavoided.html' title='Expekted, Unavoided'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4149818142898967751</id><published>2010-11-30T14:37:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T14:40:38.855+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Serpent's Superstition</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;They've always told me the superstition not to whistle in the house to avoid from getting snake inside, as I always whistle. But of kourse, I never wanted to believe that. But yesterday afternoon, all of a sudden, our eldest sister skreamed in her room. We rushed to see what had happened, and she showed us a snake, hanging from a hook where they hang their accessories, just beside the glued-to-the-wall square mirrors. Well, I was the last person to see it, due to my poor sight. We tried everything we kould think of (aktually, we didn't really do anything at all), and we decided to get our neighbour's son. Damn. That just made me feel helpless. And sissy. He's not much older than me, but he simply picked the little snake's head and put it in the plastik bag.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I later brought the bag to the big drain and let it free.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And no, all this got nothing to do with me whistling all the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4149818142898967751?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4149818142898967751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/11/serpents-superstition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4149818142898967751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4149818142898967751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/11/serpents-superstition.html' title='Serpent&apos;s Superstition'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8157215038190624648</id><published>2010-11-29T18:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T18:10:12.374+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Religion of Bomb</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Finally. I kan access to this site again, after getting blocked at the kontent warning sektion for about a month, I guess. Well, I'm now getting through the exam. The murderer. Ah, not really, though. I've decided not to be a viktim. It doesn't determine my life. I'll just get through this and keep on living my life the way I want it to be. Easy. On the ground.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8157215038190624648?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8157215038190624648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/11/religion-of-bomb.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8157215038190624648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8157215038190624648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/11/religion-of-bomb.html' title='Religion of Bomb'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-852864024722420064</id><published>2010-11-02T23:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T23:39:01.634+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Personifikation of Mind</title><content type='html'>If my mind were to be personified, it'd be a figure lying helplessly on the ground, sick and weak.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-852864024722420064?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/852864024722420064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/11/personifikation-of-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/852864024722420064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/852864024722420064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/11/personifikation-of-mind.html' title='Personifikation of Mind'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-2599106470000255420</id><published>2010-10-31T00:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T00:00:41.724+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Food. Friends. Fun.</title><content type='html'>Aha. Today was good. Our klass had a barbeque party at the beach. God, food was everywhere. And I ate quite a lot, too. We really had fun, though. Laughing and joking around. Kooking the chicken, sausages. Yea, the party was good for the food and friends and fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-2599106470000255420?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/2599106470000255420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/food-friends-fun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2599106470000255420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2599106470000255420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/food-friends-fun.html' title='Food. Friends. Fun.'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-2035399427641306498</id><published>2010-10-25T23:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T23:20:17.038+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hypertoni//K</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We studied Biology for night klass tonight. We were given exam paper and she told us to answer it. And so I answered it, though I didn't get all the questions answered. And after about 20 minutes, I think, she told us to hand her the papers so she kould check them. I'd had no idea she wanted to do that. And so we gave her the papers and when she was checking mine, hell, she kommented about my spellings- my K's, obviously. She lektured about me being playful and not serious in answering the questions and how I'd get the answers all wrong in real exam if I still do that. Yeah, some people think I'm being playful when I use K instead of C in my writings. They're wrong. I'm not being playful. It's part of who I am. This is me, whether it looks wrong or ridikulous to you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-2035399427641306498?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/2035399427641306498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/hypertonik.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2035399427641306498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2035399427641306498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/hypertonik.html' title='Hypertoni//K'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8340228964192274996</id><published>2010-10-17T18:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T18:48:27.966+08:00</updated><title type='text'>UNLEASH THE BEAST</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I TRIED LISTENING TO SOME METAL SOUNDS, THE HARDEST I KOULD FIND, TO MOVE ME FROM MY PENSIVE STATE, AND I THINK IT WORKED. BUT NOW, IT'S ALMOST UNBEARABLE; IT'S SKREAMING INSIDE AND I NEED TO LET IT OUT. I NEED TO UNLEASH THIS ROARING BEAST AND EXPLODE MYSELF; ROAR, BURNING THE ATMOSPHERE AROUND ME WITH THIS UNKNOWN FEELING THAT SLOWLY MORPHS ITSELF FROM THE PREVIOUS LIFELESS STATE INTO SOMETHING THAT'S NOT ANGER, BUT BURNING, BEATING.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8340228964192274996?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8340228964192274996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/unleash-beast.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8340228964192274996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8340228964192274996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/unleash-beast.html' title='UNLEASH THE BEAST'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1414392715610204955</id><published>2010-10-16T21:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-16T21:17:26.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hold Your Fire</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;People have been moving faster. Racing against time in reaching the perfekt kondition to fight whatever battle they're battling soon. But I'm still here. Living my life like usual. Aha. Don't let yourself fall into what you hate, monkey. Don't force yourself; have fun and let things go the way they do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1414392715610204955?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1414392715610204955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/hold-your-fire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1414392715610204955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1414392715610204955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/hold-your-fire.html' title='Hold Your Fire'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-545267199968640170</id><published>2010-10-14T19:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T19:06:00.914+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hybrid Theory</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I always find myself in pensive mood these days. At skool, mostly. With me staring blankly at some point, emotionless look on my face, some friends even think I'm in bad mood. No, I'm just sleepy. Bored. Tired. Wanting to have a break.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But it's skreaming inside. I need to always listen to something fast, hard, beating. And Linkin Park, their old sounds, satisfy that need.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-545267199968640170?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/545267199968640170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/hybrid-theory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/545267199968640170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/545267199968640170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/hybrid-theory.html' title='Hybrid Theory'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-7363595032817768727</id><published>2010-10-13T15:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T15:40:50.364+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evolution</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TLViFZbfFmI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/JN1aD_O0Pq0/s1600/Kertas+ZOOLOGI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TLViFZbfFmI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/JN1aD_O0Pq0/s400/Kertas+ZOOLOGI.jpg" width="272" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Zoology : How Humans Evolve Into Rules Abiding Dogs&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-7363595032817768727?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/7363595032817768727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/evolution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7363595032817768727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7363595032817768727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/evolution.html' title='Evolution'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TLViFZbfFmI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/JN1aD_O0Pq0/s72-c/Kertas+ZOOLOGI.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8273621733285181195</id><published>2010-10-10T18:24:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-10T18:28:41.292+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Triple X Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I followed the four of my family to Mom's kompany's family day in Kuala Terengganu yesterday, Saturday. We'd aktually already been in Dungun since the previous night so we kould start travelling earlier to Kuala Terengganu. The family day was quite okay. We aktually participated in treasure hunt and jigsaw puzzle kontest; getting ourselves real sweaty, though we won nothing. But the event management really sucked, though. They didn't prepare any brunch, except for the plain bread, and wouldn't let people have the lunch until the VIPs were done with their little golf game. Fuck them. But we had it anyway, after sick of waiting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;We reached Dungun at 4 and had some rest before my aunt, who just got back from KT too, akkompanying her kindergarten kids, kalled home and told Emperor to send her quickly to hospital. She was in pain from her stomak problem, which later rekognised as gallstone. They spent about 2 hours at the hospital while I was at home with my sister and an another aunt. So we decided to take off to Kemaman after Maghrib, and we did at about 8. It had been stormy since that evening, but it was raining just drizzly when we were on our way home. It was at Paka; the road was wet and when a kar beside us ran through the water, it splashed and startled the driver of a kar in front of us. I saw the kar's sudden stop and &lt;i&gt;DANG!&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;No, we didn't hit it; it was us who got hit in the back. It's usual for me to think about accident every time we're on a journey and when that happened, I felt a sudden relief that it was just a hit, and nothing more serious. We stopped to inspekt the damage and together with the middle-aged kouple who accidentally hit us, we turned back to Dungun's police &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;station to lodge a police report. I'm grateful that we hadn't been injured, though there's some problem with the kar's back bumper and its alarm system. But still, Emperor and Mom dealt nicely with the kouple; Mom and the middle-aged woman were having a warm konversation as we were waiting for Emperor to settle the report, outside the police station. And so we spent another night at Granny's and got back here only this afternoon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was a chain of events. But I'm surprised that I kan take it easily- ah, it was nothing serious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8273621733285181195?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8273621733285181195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/triple-x-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8273621733285181195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8273621733285181195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/triple-x-day.html' title='Triple X Day'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-163680494156194913</id><published>2010-10-08T00:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T00:55:35.217+08:00</updated><title type='text'>KHM CXXVII : Der Eisenofen</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;"... the thing is to find a truth which is true to me, to find the idea for which I kan live and die."&lt;br /&gt;- Soren Kierkegaard, letter to Peter Wilhelm Lund, August 31, 1835.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I always find myself in a state which I always want to express myself out, looking for something in which I kan relate myself to. A reason of why I'm doing something; reasons to satisfy my aktions; a purpose. A statement to show my existence. No- it's up to them whether or not they should identify me, but I know, I klearly do, that I'm alive. I'm here, konspiring my own mind to kontrol my own life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;CXXVII&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-163680494156194913?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/163680494156194913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/khm-cxxvii-der-eisenofen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/163680494156194913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/163680494156194913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/khm-cxxvii-der-eisenofen.html' title='KHM CXXVII : Der Eisenofen'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-7490733582689707935</id><published>2010-10-04T22:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T22:50:39.176+08:00</updated><title type='text'>: Remastered</title><content type='html'>﻿﻿﻿ &lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TKnpNxNJovI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HydYwNe3JkI/s1600/Unborn+Remastered.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" px="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TKnpNxNJovI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HydYwNe3JkI/s320/Unborn+Remastered.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Unborn Child : Remastered&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;﻿﻿﻿ Appreciating things from time kapsule.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-7490733582689707935?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/7490733582689707935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/remastered.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7490733582689707935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7490733582689707935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/remastered.html' title=': Remastered'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TKnpNxNJovI/AAAAAAAAAHM/HydYwNe3JkI/s72-c/Unborn+Remastered.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4683171336019157289</id><published>2010-10-03T19:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T19:39:27.484+08:00</updated><title type='text'>: Driven</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I kut the extra klass today for my first driving lesson. Yeah. The driving lesson. It started out quite good; the instruktor asked me to drive out of the driving institute right away. Well, it was my first time so yeah, I sucked a little bit at klutch. There were a few fucked moments at traffik lights and it got a bit worse when I was driving in the institute; the hill, the parking sites and all. The instruktor is someone from my family - my unkle's father-in-law, to be exakt - so it helped me quite much to ask him things about driving. Ah, damn. I did suck and I expekt I'd do so again when it's time for me to drive alone without the instruktor beside. Ugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4683171336019157289?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4683171336019157289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/driven.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4683171336019157289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4683171336019157289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/10/driven.html' title=': Driven'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8311351143609106724</id><published>2010-09-27T19:56:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T20:49:23.351+08:00</updated><title type='text'>: Damned</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Fuck. Damn fuck. I went out this evening, thinking about having a kan of Koke before I got to the town and stopped at the bundle outlet. There must be new stuffs, I thought. And it was; I looked one by one and found many nice shirts that I thought would fit me. I went to the other row of shirts and found a FUBU jersey. It looked good with V-neck, the one like those of motorsport outfits,&amp;nbsp;and I thought that it was better than the other - its material makes it last longer. I paid RM18 for that one and got home, ditching the thought of having Koke, thinking about the newly-bought stuff. I tried and I kouldn't even get my head through the neck. I squeezed myself in it and I was like wearing a korsette. &lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;DAMN&lt;/span&gt;. It'd looked like it'd fit me. But it didn't. I think I'll just go there again tomorrow and make a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s : I know I'm getting fatter. Or that I was never slim. [- -,]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8311351143609106724?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8311351143609106724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/damned.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8311351143609106724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8311351143609106724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/damned.html' title=': Damned'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3236764386935432461</id><published>2010-09-27T17:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T21:03:56.811+08:00</updated><title type='text'>: Refuelled</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TKCVim0oP1I/AAAAAAAAAHA/V-CFeEgfxA8/s1600/RASD+Rvvd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TKCVim0oP1I/AAAAAAAAAHA/V-CFeEgfxA8/s320/RASD+Rvvd.jpg" width="257" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;2008's RASD :&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Refuelle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3236764386935432461?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3236764386935432461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/refuelled.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3236764386935432461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3236764386935432461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/refuelled.html' title=': Refuelled'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TKCVim0oP1I/AAAAAAAAAHA/V-CFeEgfxA8/s72-c/RASD+Rvvd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8188218347037189065</id><published>2010-09-24T10:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-24T10:11:46.755+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pure Darkness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It was minutes to midnight and I was in front of this komputer - home alone - when everything lost from my sight last night - a blackout. It was totally dark and I kouldn't see anything at all inside the house. I stumbled my way to the entrance door, hoping to see some light but it was still the blackness I found when I opened the door. I got outside, barefooted, on the road in front of the house and it was a hope; it was brighter outside. It was a good feeling to see how the sky seemed more enlightened despite of the dark houses beneath it. And it felt like I was the only one who was at that place - no one else had been in my sight. After what seemed like minutes passed, I got inside again and felt my way to the keys. I locked up the door and started my engine before riding it through the lightless night. I found out that the whole housing area went black, and half of the one north to mine. It was a disappointment; I'd been hoping that the whole town was in dark. I got home and my neighbour gave me a kandle and I lit up some more kandles I found in the house. It was hot - there was nothing to do than just standing outside there, looking at the sky. I finally decided to ride to the town and so I did. When I got home again my sisters were already there with a friend of theirs; they just got back from their friend's funeral who died of a road accident early that night. Another friend - whom later I found out is a brother to my friend - kame up and I just sat there listening to their konversation. It was about an hour later before a teknician kame up and fixed the problem at the elektrikal substation just beside the house beside mine. The lights went on and I got off to sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8188218347037189065?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8188218347037189065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/pure-darkness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8188218347037189065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8188218347037189065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/pure-darkness.html' title='Pure Darkness'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1578349092187404262</id><published>2010-09-22T18:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T18:23:33.468+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alternative Medikation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I didn't go to skool again today. I went to see a healer in Dungun - alternative medikation - to kure my eyes that have been sore for weeks. He said my problem's serious; it's no longer an allergy but is getting to be kancerous. I don't know what he meant by that but true; my eyes kan be very painful sometimes. He gave me two types of pills and I have to take it three times a day. And no seafood; not that I believed the pain was from it before, but never mind, I'll obey this time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May there be a new chance of getting healed this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1578349092187404262?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1578349092187404262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/alternative-medikation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1578349092187404262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1578349092187404262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/alternative-medikation.html' title='Alternative Medikation'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4735612565883723689</id><published>2010-09-20T19:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T19:22:57.991+08:00</updated><title type='text'>His Karnivorous Goats</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Telling story is good, especially when you tell a story with good messages or morals. Stories like 'The Boy Who Kried Wolf', 'Alice In Wonderland', 'Alice In Disneyland', 'Jack Bean The Stalker' or even 'Alice Made Out With Jack In The Elf Kingdom', are good to be told. They're fun and entertaining. But the thing that's not good in telling a story is when the story is about others. We tell our friends a true story about another friend, or about other people, like 'How Ahmad's Marriage Ended' or 'Why Siti Doesn't Talk To Strangers'. And stories like these might tell that that someone is not good; this kan bring bad things, to us and others. Nasty thoughts okkur. Slanders rise. Misunderstandings and fights happen. And all that komes from our story. These things happen bekause there may be some of those whom the story is told that would misinterpret our story or it's the story itself that's told with bad intention that komes from us, the teller. And these people, who've misinterpreted it, might just tell other people the misinterpreted version and they would spread it. And eventually, it may happen that the last version we hear is kompletely different from the one we've told. Yes, words spread. People like talking. That is why we have to be responsible to what we tell people, and not spread anything we're not sure of its authenticity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, I like the story 'Pak Mat And His Karnivorous Goats'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4735612565883723689?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4735612565883723689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/his-karnivorous-goats.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4735612565883723689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4735612565883723689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/his-karnivorous-goats.html' title='His Karnivorous Goats'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4548983930110750767</id><published>2010-09-17T16:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T16:20:53.831+08:00</updated><title type='text'>GROUND FLOOR</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;People around me are already moving- no, maybe they've been moving forward since before, with their konsciousness over their future matter. It's not that I don't have it, but I'm just too heavy to move. Chained to the ground. I'm skared of it, and I hate that I'm skared of it and I hate the thing that I'm skared of. It's never beautiful- not in this partikular kase. They've made us believe that it's important and that it decides our life; death sentence for those who fail it. Those who succeed, go higher. Why does everyone have to go up there? What if I prefer to stay here, on the ground? Don't I deserve a life, whatever that would be? I see. That's the rule. Those on the ground are dirty. Worthless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;FUCK YOU, ALL OF YOU.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4548983930110750767?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4548983930110750767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/ground-floor.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4548983930110750767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4548983930110750767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/ground-floor.html' title='GROUND FLOOR'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8928088668673874030</id><published>2010-09-13T23:36:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T23:37:19.741+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Only Live Once</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've gone through the veil, to the outside of Ramadhan. It's been good. Yeah. I celebrated the firat day of Raya at Dungun. There was nothing much to do. People kame and went to Granny's house; relatives, mostly. But there's a relative that I'd always go hiding myself in the kitchen nervously when she kame. Every time. Not to mention the embarassment I had to bear from being teased about her by those aunts. But I tried to kalm myself; trying to stay kool whenever she was around, bekause I don't always have the chance to see her, and I shouldn't waste it when there was one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And she happened to have the same kondition too sometimes, her mother told; red eyes, sneezing- just like I do. Aha. The day was good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Sekond Raya. We were just at home, getting people's visits. I went to the cemetery that evening to visit the late Emperor's father and recite him Yassin. As usual, graveyard was peaceful. I also visited my other home after that; the beach. Didn't even get on the sand, though; just eating krab balls on motorcykle, bekause it was quite dark and I didn't want to be rushing back in rain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Third Raya, we got a kall from Kemaman early in the morning - around 4 - when everyone was asleep. It was a bad news; my other grandmother, Mom's mom, was dying in hospital. She'd been hospitalised sonce midnight bekause of some breathing problem, I'm not sure. We rushed back and went straight to the hospital. Everyone was there- aunts and unkles and kousins from Mom's side- waiting for their turn to see Granny. It was only at 8 A.M. that I got to go up to see her. She was no longer konscious at that moment. She was breathing hardly, gasping for oxygen, supported by machine. Patches on her eyes, oxygen hose in her mouth, wires at her hands. It was an unbearable sight. I kissed her hand before I left her, and that was the last time I saw her alive. She died at 12.25 P.M.; I was at home, sleeping to ease my eyes. Then I went to help the funeral at my aunt's house, and then to the graveyard. It was good; she got all her children and the numerous grandchildren to help her to get there. Nothing else I pray but for Him to forgive all her sins, to ease her suffer, and to bless her soul. And may us, her family, get back together again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When it happens on someone in our family, it feels real. Death feels real. Not just in the films, not just in the papers. But in the same time, it's hard to grasp the fakt that she's gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And those who live, shall die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;In remembrance of &lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;HASNAH HAMID&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oktober 29, 1937 - September 12, 2010&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8928088668673874030?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8928088668673874030/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/you-only-live-once.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8928088668673874030'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8928088668673874030'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/you-only-live-once.html' title='You Only Live Once'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5120299641584981680</id><published>2010-09-08T16:49:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T16:51:21.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramadhan 29th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;It doesn't feel so right to be in here in a time like this. Like, I don't know what time it's like. Like now. Everyone's going to where they'll be having fun- no, no. I know I'm going too but to still be in here now; it sucks. I'm dragged backward it feels like I don't want to go forward- no, I love being under this dome; dark, peaceful, tranquilising. I know, outside's better; everyone's going for it and will be having real fun for it's what people have been waiting for while they're under this dome. The inner and outer part of the dome; they are fused together, making people bound to- I'm stuck. Slowed. I'm out of words... Oh yeah! It's bright outside isn't it? ISN'T IT? That IS why I prefer to &lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;STAY HERE&lt;/span&gt;! I, I, want to bring this darkness, this peacefulness along with me to the outside- my &lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;PERSONAL DARKNESS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;! That's it! But WHAT is it really? WHERE kan I find it? HOW kan I bring it along with me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Who knows if it ends &lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;TODAY&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5120299641584981680?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5120299641584981680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/ramadhan-29th.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5120299641584981680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5120299641584981680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/ramadhan-29th.html' title='Ramadhan 29th'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3416363518059587844</id><published>2010-09-07T14:44:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-07T14:45:58.014+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramadhan 28th</title><content type='html'>People ask for forgiveness during Ramadhan and Eid, all to make up for their mistakes to others. Yeah, they all do that to everyone they know; friends, family. Asking for forgiveness, undoubtedly, is really good; it is an obligation, as far as I know. People do that every year it bekomes a tradition. A tradition. I know there are people who are really sincere for it but yeah, sincerity is unknown to us and I kan't say there are people who are not sincere in asking for forgiveness. But then, sincere or not, if we're going to repeat the same mistakes that we've asked others' forgiveness for, then I don't think what we've asked from others would do any good to them or us. Right. We're just humans. Mistakes are done without we even realise it.&lt;br /&gt;Along with sincerity, try instead to forgive ourselves, and give ourselves a chance to be better; to God, and to people around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;How good it'd be if our good attitude in this fasting month lasts for the next month, and the month after it, and the month after it.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3416363518059587844?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3416363518059587844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/last-days-of-ramadhan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3416363518059587844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3416363518059587844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/last-days-of-ramadhan.html' title='Ramadhan 28th'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5342708904844018982</id><published>2010-09-06T02:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T02:49:20.874+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Difference is Unity</title><content type='html'>Ah... those kids have reached agreement on the t-shirt design they're making for the klass. It's not like what I'd want it to be, and I kan't just tell them to design and design again so I'd like it. No. I respekt their taste and bekause of that, I'm going with mine.&lt;br /&gt;I'm quite a minimalist; their design's too krowded, I think. Ah. I really need that goddamn Photoshop stuffed in this Machine. Damn.&lt;blockquote&gt;Respekting others, I'm going alone.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5342708904844018982?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5342708904844018982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/difference-is-unity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5342708904844018982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5342708904844018982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/difference-is-unity.html' title='Difference is Unity'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-451359784748261619</id><published>2010-09-02T23:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-02T23:30:17.271+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heaven of Darkness</title><content type='html'>Ah. It's happening again; my eye kondition. Again and again. And today it really got the hell out of me. I was supposed to finish my last paper today, which I did, but that was in pain. It'd gotten worse; I was suffering, waiting forever for the skool to end. My eyes were - still are - so red and watery. It's painful. I gave myself a little treatment this evening at home and it got better.&lt;br /&gt;But nonetheless, the trials and tribulations of the exam, it's all ended now. And nothing is better than that.&lt;blockquote&gt;I thought I'd be hitting the ground. But no; the more I fell, the kloser I got to heaven. Heaven of darkness. Away from the blinding sun.&lt;/blockquote&gt;I wrote something like that on my Kemistry III paper this morning and the ustadzah who kollekted the papers read it and said something about it. Kan't blame her; it does sound a bit weird. I just smiled my nervous smile to her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-451359784748261619?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/451359784748261619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/heaven-of-darkness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/451359784748261619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/451359784748261619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/09/heaven-of-darkness.html' title='Heaven of Darkness'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4540360203704336364</id><published>2010-08-31T01:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T01:38:04.322+08:00</updated><title type='text'>REVOLUTION K</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/THvsHQfTPZI/AAAAAAAAAGE/I8k9-w2ELts/s1600/K-REVOLUTION.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/THvsHQfTPZI/AAAAAAAAAGE/I8k9-w2ELts/s320/K-REVOLUTION.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4540360203704336364?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4540360203704336364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/revolution-k.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4540360203704336364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4540360203704336364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/revolution-k.html' title='REVOLUTION K'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/THvsHQfTPZI/AAAAAAAAAGE/I8k9-w2ELts/s72-c/K-REVOLUTION.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1778939209910494310</id><published>2010-08-28T18:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T18:30:26.814+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beauty</title><content type='html'>A real beauty&lt;br /&gt;to me, is one&lt;br /&gt;whose hair I never lay my eyes upon;&lt;br /&gt;whose eyes never try to meet others';&lt;br /&gt;whose skin is unknown of its softness;&lt;br /&gt;and whose voice is seldom heard&lt;br /&gt;This one,&lt;br /&gt;who has less admirers,&lt;br /&gt;has won me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1778939209910494310?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1778939209910494310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/beauty.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1778939209910494310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1778939209910494310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/beauty.html' title='Beauty'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-6408296778951810091</id><published>2010-08-17T17:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T17:39:51.713+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eve of Doomsday</title><content type='html'>... and I start to fall,&lt;br /&gt;diving helplessly in the air of fear,&lt;br /&gt;waiting forever to reach the ground.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-6408296778951810091?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/6408296778951810091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/eve-of-doomsday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6408296778951810091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/6408296778951810091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/eve-of-doomsday.html' title='Eve of Doomsday'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1914440177497472856</id><published>2010-08-16T22:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T22:54:25.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Show Your Sound</title><content type='html'>I plan to do some wordjob on my tees. I'll have to get fabrik dye for that. And a brush. And I kan start the projekt anytime soon, using my old wearable t-shirts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope this projekt won't just go off in planning without even getting started. This is real exciting me; I don't have to find tees that suit my mind no more; I kan easily make them myself. Or not too easy, we'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1914440177497472856?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1914440177497472856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/show-your-sound.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1914440177497472856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1914440177497472856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/show-your-sound.html' title='Show Your Sound'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8638155771373881323</id><published>2010-08-15T17:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T17:06:59.614+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Refrigerator Goes On Hiatus</title><content type='html'>The Doomsday of Food in the days of hunger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living without kold water.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8638155771373881323?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8638155771373881323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/refrigerator-goes-on-hiatus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8638155771373881323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8638155771373881323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/refrigerator-goes-on-hiatus.html' title='The Refrigerator Goes On Hiatus'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1898162215129164532</id><published>2010-08-15T15:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-15T15:47:04.533+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trials &amp; Tribulations</title><content type='html'>Walking on the ledge of life,&lt;br /&gt;leading me to the end of it.&lt;br /&gt;Time keeps moving, shoving me forward.&lt;br /&gt;And when the path ends,&lt;br /&gt;I fall&lt;br /&gt;into the abyss of time,&lt;br /&gt;irreversible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1898162215129164532?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1898162215129164532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/trials-tribulations.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1898162215129164532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1898162215129164532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/trials-tribulations.html' title='Trials &amp; Tribulations'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8756719560633372819</id><published>2010-08-10T00:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T00:09:57.305+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Black Brother</title><content type='html'>It all started this evening, when I was leisurely on the komputer and listening to the Beatles, when the little devil got back home from nowhere, and found out Mom was still not home after work. She started kalling her again and again and throwing tantrums and that was hell irritating me. I threatened her in effort to make her shut up. That looked bad, as I was lightly, very lightly, stepping on her arm, as she was trying to dial Mom for one more time. It was kaotik and noisy; her elder sister got out of her room to see what I was doing. She interfered, fighting me with words, skreaming fiercely to stop me. I got back to komputer and then they were now fighting there; the elder one in effort to shut the younger one. And then she threatened to chili the skreaming mouth, who'd spat on her face. Yeah, she aktually did go and take some chilies, and as she was about to approach her sister, I blocked her, to prevent what she was going to do. She then shouted something to me; I think it was about me being supreme just bekause I'm older than them, yeah. She punched me on my shoulder and that was it. That was what made me do it; I tried to hit back on her shoulder and I missed my strike as she was too klose to me; I unintentionally whacked her on her face. It was quite hard; I still slightly feel the pain of my knuckle. She was stunned; she touched her mouth and rushed to the sink. I'd never done that before. I felt - and still do - so bad I rushed out of home in my Hawaiian shorts. I wandered all over the places on my engine and finally spent some time by the town's river, feeling bad and tired. Fucked. I only started back home after it was over an hour, expekting and hoping for questions and skolds and punishments from the Emperor, to relieve my guilt. But that was in vain. I entered the house only to see they were all okkupied in setting up the new TV set they bought today, to replace the old one that didn't funktion no more, due to the thunder of the last Saturday. Damn. I'd rather get a slap.&lt;br /&gt;The sisters are just 8 and 14. Yeah, we're a harsh family.&lt;br /&gt;And she didn't lose any tooth, like I thought she would. That's relieving.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry girls. I'm just not a good brother to you.&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;b&gt;Violence of Siblinghood&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8756719560633372819?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8756719560633372819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/black-brother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8756719560633372819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8756719560633372819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/black-brother.html' title='The Black Brother'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-7567800135939141626</id><published>2010-08-04T02:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T02:07:45.848+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kursed Koin</title><content type='html'>I realize there are so many wrong things about me. In me. I sin most probably everyday; aware of it or not. One of them, the biggest problem I have, is my lust. Dirty lust. It's hard to restrain my wild, impure imaginations from wandering to the dark side every time I see females; yeah, that's why, I see them everyday. And I usually gain konsciousness almost instantly soon after the realization of the sin of it and I struggle to direkt my thoughts to something else in order to vanish the dirt. And once in a while, whenever there's a chance - being alone -, I'd do something that I refer to as 'playing at neighbour's backyard'; pornography. I've been enjoying that while bearing the guilty feeling for it. The guilt resists but apparently, it's always not strong enough. Another major wrong thing in me is my ridikulously fucking pride. I always think that I'm better than anyone else - why, oh why - and that often makes me see only their weaknesses and immoralities; looking down on them. That is simply sick. It's disgusting myself to have that kind of thought. And to battle this, I keep telling myself that I need to forget what good or great things I've done, if there's any, and that the people, everyone of them, are good in their own way. Better than me, for sure.&lt;br /&gt;I need to change, for God's sake. And I think I'd start with resisting my lust, by avoiding temptations. And I hope and pray that this time, it's for good. I don't want this effort to be wasted away, like what that happened on the ones before.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be better in my faith as much as I want my mind to develop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-7567800135939141626?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/7567800135939141626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/kursed-koin.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7567800135939141626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7567800135939141626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/kursed-koin.html' title='The Kursed Koin'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-3276498458123090142</id><published>2010-08-01T17:45:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T17:48:27.486+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird Tales</title><content type='html'>I'd kome akross this Lovecraft Mythos; a big fiktional universe of gods and weird kreatures, kreated by H. P. Lovecraft in 1920's. It's about the priciple of kosmicism and pseudomythologikal entities, and it's not just one story. There are many other works related to it; being inspired by the kreatures and the principles in the mythos. There are possibly many short stories, komiks, and films that adapt ideas from this Lovecraft Mythos. It is interesting, but I don't expekt I'd ever get to read and know everything about it, as much as I'd like to do that. And I also found a webkomik, The Unspeakable Vaults of Doom, a parody to the mythos and I spent hours reading it today.&lt;br /&gt;It's all about weird kreatures and fantasies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a blog-running just now as I was waiting for the webkomik pages to load. I hit the 'Next blog', skimming random blogs that showed up. But it turned out not to be so random. Everytime I klicked the 'Next blog', I went to a blog with some, if not most, references to Kristianity. There were about 8, 9 sites of churches and things related to their god, with 2 or 3 plain others between them. I'm not an extremist, as we Muslims do have to respekt others' beliefs, but I don't feel just okay about those things. I fear that they might just mislead me; my faith ain't like the ones of my pious Muslim brothers. Mine is not strong enough. Those sites, are they purposely arranged by Blogger to show up every time we go through random blogs? And I decided to return here and make another run; to make sure whether I'd kome up with more churches' sites this time.&lt;br /&gt;And there weren't.&lt;br /&gt;I need to strengthen my grip on my faith; my hold to the One and only God I have; Allah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-3276498458123090142?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/3276498458123090142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/weird-tales.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3276498458123090142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/3276498458123090142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/08/weird-tales.html' title='Weird Tales'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-2423750292485567897</id><published>2010-07-31T20:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T20:02:10.801+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kannibal Karnival</title><content type='html'>... and the so kalled Akademik Karnival has finally ended today. Damn. It was hell fun to have a restless weekend packed with klasses, days and nights. And right now, I already got it konfirmed that tomorrow will be my rest day. Yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-2423750292485567897?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/2423750292485567897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/07/kannibal-karnival.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2423750292485567897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/2423750292485567897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/07/kannibal-karnival.html' title='Kannibal Karnival'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-7880826041411016309</id><published>2010-07-27T01:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T01:16:38.041+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hidden Meanings</title><content type='html'>Driven by my kurious thought on what I use to refer myself might mean, I made some searchings on 'Kal' and I found something really disturbing. It aktually got something to do with Superman's hidden Anti Krist ideology; the name Kal-el, from which my 'Kal' was originally inspired. There are a lot more meanings related to it and they are quite komplikated to be mentioned here. So I'm konsidering whether or not I should change my pseudo name. I love names; anything, just anything that sounds good, kan inspire me to adopt it. And in this kase, I hate the fakt that I've taken that 'Kal' from Superman's given name, but I'm also thinking about to just stick to it. As much as it's disturbing to me, I resolve that I, knowing that this kould be wrong and misleading me, will just konsider it as a name, and name only. A shortened form of 'Khair'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this disturbance, I was thinking about a new alternative name, before anything else that soon would kome to my mind; Khalil. It sounds nice and brings the meaning of 'friend' in Arabik. And I then remembered about another name, the feminine kounterpart of Khalil; Khalilah. Aktually, I was thinking about the person who owns that name. Hmm. How is she now, I wonder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;#53&lt;/strike&gt; No. No number. It would be irrelevant as I know I wouldn't write every day. Resolved. No numbers in experimental entries.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-7880826041411016309?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/7880826041411016309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/07/hidden-meanings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7880826041411016309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/7880826041411016309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/07/hidden-meanings.html' title='Hidden Meanings'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-4668862430969437497</id><published>2010-07-25T20:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T20:12:52.927+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Session #52</title><content type='html'>Back to the session.&lt;br /&gt;Hey there, myself in the future. You're still there? Yeah, you are. And I'm still breathing here. Just that it might be slightly different now. I missed writing in here; I love writing out my mind. It's klearer when it komes out of this head. Yeah. Well, there are things happening but they just don't matter much. I've made up my mind to let out no laughs and be more bitter to people. It's just that I think I kan no longer use those hahas to kover things up. Let they know me like the way I want them to. And yeah, that also means I'm reducing one of the masks I wear. To make it just one. When the masks are all gone, I hope, I'll be just one. With my true face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those things that don't matter much are still things that happened. Let's start with me getting my freedom; away from silly puppy love that kept making me pretentious. Yeah. And about skool, as much as I hate it, still, I've finally done the one assignment I was given about a month ago. It's an essay for a kompetition I never want to enter. It's a result from trust and responsibility. A trust for what I've achieved in English, though the marks I got were just a little higher than everyone else's. Being trusted to komplete the essay, I feel like it's my responsibility to do it, as much as I hate being burdened by it. Yeah, it's a burden, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels good to finally kome back here and write again, after more than a month. I just want to get back on the sound extrakting experiments like I always had before.&lt;blockquote&gt;The water splashing over the sun;&lt;br /&gt;the shelter I hate to kover me; I needed to run.&lt;/blockquote&gt;#52&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-4668862430969437497?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/4668862430969437497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/07/session-52.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4668862430969437497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/4668862430969437497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/07/session-52.html' title='Session #52'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-8096652057255810768</id><published>2010-07-05T16:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T16:02:27.965+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kontagious Truth</title><content type='html'>I know many of us here, youths, didn't even know about these lies before, let alone the truths underneath them. It is a good thing that we didn't know about it before; it's time for us to know, and know the truths straight ahead, without having to believe the lies first. Help by spreading it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michel Collon, a Belgian journalist and author, in his book "Israel, let's talk about it," has slammed European media over decades of "lying" to people in order to support Israel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Collon, in his book, has recounted "10 big lies" spread by Western media in order to "justify the existence and actions of Israel", which are concisely presented below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1. The first lie is that Israel was established in reaction to the massacre of Jews during the World War II.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This notion is completely wrong. Israel is in fact a domineering project which was approved in the First Zionist Congress in Basel, Switzerland, in 1897, when nationalist Jews decided to occupy Palestine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. The second justification for establishing and legitimizing Israel is that the Jews are returning to their forefathers' land, from where they had been driven away in 70 A.D.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a tale. I have spoken to the famous Israeli historian Shlomo Sand and other historians and they all believe that there has been no "exodus," so "return" is meaningless. The people living in Palestine have not left their land in the ancient era.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact the descendents of Jews residing in Palestine are the people who are currently living in Palestine. Those who claim they want to return to their lands originate for Western and Eastern Europe and Northern Africa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sand says there is no Jewish nation. The Jews do not have common history, language or culture. The only common thing between them is their religion, and religion does not make a nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. The third lie is that when Jewish immigrants occupied Palestine, it was an empty and uninhibited country.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, there are documents and evidences that prove that in the 19th century the agricultural products of Palestine were exported to different countries, including France.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;4. Fourth, some people say Palestinians left their country on their own free will.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is another lie, which lots of people believed, including myself. Until Israeli historians like Benny Morris and Ilan Pappe said that Palestinians were driven away and banished from their lands by using force and terror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;5. It is said that today Israel is the only democracy in the Middle East and it should be protected; it is the "government of law."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in my opinion not only it is not the government of law; it is the only regime that no law defines its territory and boundaries. All the countries of the world have a constitution which defines their boundaries, but no such thing applies to Israel. Israel is an expansionist project which knows no boundary, and its law is completely racist; according to this law Israel is the country for Jews, and its non-Jew citizens are not considered human. Such law is a contradiction to democracy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;6. It is said that the US tries to protect democracy in the Middle East by protecting Israel. And we know that the US annual financial aid to Israel amounts to 3 billion dollars. This money is used for bombarding Israel's neighbor countries.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But America is not after establishing democracy in the Middle East; it wants the undisturbed flow of oil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;7. They pretend that the US seeks an agreement between Israel and Palestine.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is also completely wrong and a lie. EU former Foreign Policy Chief Javier Solana told the Israel that "you are the 21st country of the European Union." The European weapons industries cooperate with the Israeli military industries and support them financially. But when Palestinians elected their government, Europe did not recognize it and gave the green light to Israel to attack the Gaza Strip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;8. When one talks about these facts and the history of Israel and Palestine, when one reveals the US interests in this situation, they call you anti-Semite to keep you silent.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we should say that when we criticize Israel, it is not racism or anti-Semitism. We criticize a government that does not believe in the equality of Jews, Christians and Muslims, and so destroys the peace between followers of different religions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;9. The mass media say that Palestinians cause violence and terrorism.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We say Israel army's occupation is violence, the policy that has stolen land and home from Palestinians is violence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;10. An issue which is often raised is that there is no way for resolving this situation, and there is no solution for the hatred and the grudge caused by Israel and its accomplices.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is a solution. The only thing that can stop this process is the public pressure on the accomplices of Israel in the US and Europe and other parts of the world; public pressure on the mass media which refrain from telling the truth about Israel; and using the Internet or any other media out let to publish real news about Palestine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-8096652057255810768?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/8096652057255810768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/07/kontagious-truth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8096652057255810768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/8096652057255810768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/07/kontagious-truth.html' title='Kontagious Truth'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-977881642103338377</id><published>2010-06-21T19:31:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T19:38:09.094+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Fortnight Ends Here.</title><content type='html'>A fortnight has ended. And supposedly, I have started the sekond semester yesterday, but I haven't. I didn't go to school yesterday, and today. Pa and Ma have gone to Perlis last Saturday, and should be back tomorrow. That's aktually the reason why I got leave days for myself so easily. They know about this, though. But I suppose they wouldn't mind; there have been nothing important in school, so I was told. And I was told too about the teacher that enlisted my name and another friend of mine for a school's publik speaking kompetition that will be held on this Wednesday, in konjunktion with that KOKO week. But if I don't show up this Wednesday, the other friend would be the one who got to participate, representing our klass. Heh. There's no way I'd show up that day. Let just that friend get involved; I'm such a chicken. Haha. And I was told too that I, somehow, managed to get 4 A's, for the Dark May Days we sat right before the Holy Fortnight. The truth is, it's a disappointment to my Rage Against Ekspektations as its main objektive was to show my hatred for being ekspekted to get good results, by letting myself get killed by Extreme Ambition Murderer; getting bad result. But I kan't say I'm not grateful, however, as the result is konsidered quite good to others, though I was unprepared, just like what I've been all this while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-977881642103338377?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/977881642103338377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/06/holy-fortnight-ends-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/977881642103338377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/977881642103338377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/06/holy-fortnight-ends-here.html' title='Holy Fortnight Ends Here.'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-5391973535753631138</id><published>2010-06-14T00:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T01:05:53.901+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confœderatio Helvetica</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TBUOsmZFnRI/AAAAAAAAAF8/LSOmgUEMvNM/s1600/125px-Flag_of_Switzerland_(Pantone).svg.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TBUOsmZFnRI/AAAAAAAAAF8/LSOmgUEMvNM/s320/125px-Flag_of_Switzerland_(Pantone).svg.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And I finally let it out to her. About how I'd been feeling when we were together. Yeah, I felt like I was chained, tied to something. By an invisible bond that people kall love. I, to be true, hate feeling like that. It's not love that I hate; it's the tie. And today I decided, after thinking through it, to dissolve it; the chain of which I'd been tied with. It had been holding me from being honest to myself and people around me. I'm sorry I've broken those promises but this is the best way I think, to free myself from the tie that made me lie. I just hope that we'd still be good friends 'kause I'd enjoyed those moments; talking to her at late night and sharing things of our days. Kansht. And I never regret asking the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"&gt;Question&lt;/span&gt; to her. It'd given me an experience.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-5391973535753631138?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/5391973535753631138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/06/confderatio-helvetica.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5391973535753631138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/5391973535753631138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/06/confderatio-helvetica.html' title='Confœderatio Helvetica'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/TBUOsmZFnRI/AAAAAAAAAF8/LSOmgUEMvNM/s72-c/125px-Flag_of_Switzerland_(Pantone).svg.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-1598381412696227577</id><published>2010-06-10T00:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T00:57:39.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mavi Marmara</title><content type='html'>Things I do in this holyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Attending weddings. Have had enough of that.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Staying up late until around 3 in the morning.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting up late, of kourse, at around 2 in the afternoon.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Once per day bath. No need to waste water supply.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Going out with friends. Which I'm planning to do.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Suffering from painful lip blisters and wounded throat or gum. I'm not sure. Appetite not affekted.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Writing essay. Of which aktually I haven't started yet.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Relaxing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-1598381412696227577?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/1598381412696227577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/06/mavi-marmara.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1598381412696227577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/1598381412696227577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/06/mavi-marmara.html' title='Mavi Marmara'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7416967590811178475.post-149724132894269865</id><published>2010-06-07T23:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T00:39:33.468+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Guy Who Wears Black</title><content type='html'>I'd gone to Dungun last Saturday for a wedding of Emperor's kousin which was aktually to be held on Sunday. We'd first gone to Kuala Terengganu that Saturday for another wedding of the daughter of Emperor's kousin. It sounds konfusing but that's okay. I understand. And I went to the 'ocean city' again that evening after getting back from KT. It was like the usual; like the last time I'd been there. So many people along the beach and it was happening. I stopped at some rocky place and sat there on the flat rock burying my feet in the sand. I always do that whenever I'm at beach. Bored doing just that, I got kloser to the water and played with the sand. Alone. And I also kollekted seashells and brought them back home. I'd searched for the ones with hole so I kan put a string through them- yeah, I'd like to make a bracelet out of them. Haha. Maybe I'm going to wear it too.&lt;br /&gt;And at the wedding the next day, I've got to help them with things; getting the dirty plates and glasses to the washing place and so I moved a lot from here to there over and over again. And there were some of those relatives noticing me and teasing about the snowkap I've always had on my head. They teased me about the 'lost shawl' and even kalled me a terrorist. Hah. Is it so weird to wear snowkap? Perhaps snowkap isn't kommon enough to them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7416967590811178475-149724132894269865?l=soundinmymind.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/feeds/149724132894269865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/06/guy-who-wears-black.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/149724132894269865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7416967590811178475/posts/default/149724132894269865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://soundinmymind.blogspot.com/2010/06/guy-who-wears-black.html' title='The Guy Who Wears Black'/><author><name>The Machinist</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11845102477289017196</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ws7fCB1unpI/S_uhZKGvitI/AAAAAAAAAFc/ucIRf7Npjz4/S220/Maskedreader.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
