Friday, March 16, 2007


17 Jul 2003 15:08
At the moment
Song: ...
Mood: Underdefined.
Word: Digress
My brain is saying: Time to sleep...
Time: 14:18
Wishlist: Olympus M[mju:] 300 or 400 Digital Camera. I really really really need this current one worked like Stone Age and if anyone have RM1k+ to spare...

Let me last entry..., alrighty. The cult thing was a bit off. I sounded quite deranged there, for a moment, except, I'm STILL at it, you know. I haven't put my hands down. I haven't gave up. One day. One day I'll start my cult, whereupon my followers will worship me and I'll squeeze every bit of humanity and of course, cold, hard cash out of them.

Sometimes, I need to get my perspective straight. Reality and fantasy has mixed my brains up. Er, opps, I mean, my brains has mixed fantasy and reality up! Where one end and another begin, the borders became blurred and the ritual-crossing became literally subconscious. I'm really speaking from my heart. Unfortunately, you wouldn't know what I'm refering to, because my heart told me not to tell the world. My brain now is saying that my heart can't talk, only pump blood, but my heart is saying my brain is crapping and my mind is telling my heart AND my brain to shutahellup. La di da...

Alright. I'm a chicken. I admit. I'm a chicken when it comes to phoning business people, adults, for official requests or information and such. Damned right, I rather be calling people my age because I'm more comfortable. It gave me a sense of superiority because I sounded more formal then them. Of course, all pretenses drop once the informal chat begins. But ask me to phone Lions or some hospital matron, or even my school magzine publisher, I hesitate and actually rehearse what I'm going to say in my head before taking the plunge. It's not like I don't know what to say. I can give crystal clear instructions to my juniors or friends on what to say when they're on official phone calls. I'm just too chicken to do it myself, though. Hey, I DO call, I just don't like to, OKAY? Don't get ideas!

What spurred this on? Right...on Tuesday we did our yearbook dummy in the library and when the teacher-in-charge's away, we had a bit of chatting with our publisher. I remember acutely he told us which school's yearbooks' in his publication. A certain college is one of `em. And then when I came home, I thought about it, and the more I thought about it, the more I WANT that college's yearbook. So, I considered for hours and hours whether to ask him in person or phone him. I considered, rehearsed my speech, got his number from my fellow editorial board member and I came home, lie on my bed and think and think and rehearse, and I went to my cellphone, sat on the floor, key in the publisher's number, and I hesitated. What if I got rejected? What if he told my teacher? What if he laughed? What if that is stupidly unprofessional of me? What if...and then my head said firmly to my brain "Oy. PY. You're paranoid. Ask. Better off knowing then wondering and REGRETTING for the rest of ya pathetic life." So my brain told my lungs to take a deep breath, my fingers to press the green Call button and send impulses to my voicebox and lips to move and ask what I have to ask. Although Mr. Publisher didn't guarantee a copy (he only say if there's EXTRA or rejects), at least I asked. Incidentally, I'd also like to mention that it's kinda easy to STEAL from your school library, especially when you're a senior and "intimidate" is the keyword. I openly took a yearbook out of the library but none of them midgets asked to check my belongings. BECAUSE I'm a senior. And I look intimidating. Hoohay.

So what's the moral of the story here? Ask. Do not be scared of asking, because he who asks is a fool for a moment, he who didn't is a fool for a lifetime. So, if you're in doubt, if you need something, ask.

Great, now I've revealed to the whole world that:

My heart talks to my brain,
who talks to my mind,
who talks to my head,
who talks to my self.

Heart: *Shakes veins in disbelief*
Brain: Git!
Mind: Idiotic asshole...
Head: THANK YOU very much, you vindictive crackpot you.
Self: Get lost, don't make me think I hear voices within my head, y'all!

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