benefits of not having to sleep

Firstly, I can devote my morning to serving my almighty mum by buying her different take-away breakfast from different stalls/shop/kopitiam/anywhere that sells food everyday. I can also have breakfast with my mum in front of the Tv for as long as I like, sipping slowly the Lipton tea that I made for the both of us. Then loiter in the living room with mum talking about really-it's-no-point-talking-at-all stuff. Also, take my time dawdling my way to the bathroom to shower. Plenty of time.

I can start my afternoon by picking my brothers up from their respective schools. I can totally waste away the half an hour sitting and doodling mindlessly in the car while waiting for the bigger brother to walk out the front gate of his school with the smaller brother already in the car. I don't have to curse the traffic light if it turns yellow when it's my turn to cross the junction. I won't even mind if the fella at the back of me honk at me coz I'm going too slow on the road coz, what's the rush?

When I reach home, mum can ask me to go to the bank, deposit stuff at four different banks at one go. I won't mind the waiting and queuing up before 20 or 30 so people at each bank. Nah, I've got the time. I can come home and get dressed for work and work and come back and shower and take my dinner and in the blink of an eye, the sun sets and it's time to send the smaller brother to tuition classes. Sometimes both brothers. The 90-minute interval between sending them there and picking them up, I can draw a bit, maybe get a few human sketches for figure analysis assignments done. When I come back from picking them up, I can spend some (two) quality hours with my dad coz he's out working since 7.30 a.m. and only comes home late in the evening everyday. Like the filial daughter I am, I think it's absolutely necessary. And if anyone suggests to go mamak, why not? I've got the time.

Mamak sessions normally end at 12 a.m. or later. But I won't mind. I'll wash my feet and set up the table and start doing my assignments at whatever time we reach home. The rest can go to bed. Good night, sweet dreams. I'll work and work and work. Finally, a me-time. More like, devotion-to-assignments-time. All by myself at last. And when morning arrives, repeat the same routine. With exception on days that I go to college. Those three days.

Weekends, you say? Saturday mornings are pretty much the same as weekdays'. In the afternoon, bigger bro's gotta attend tuition classes. Evening, hmmm. Okay, me-time. Or mum can randomly suggest that we go to Sungai Buloh to see plants in pots or garden decoration items or whatever she can think of. Either that or we do groceries shopping at the hypermarket. Naaahhh, take your time. I mean, take my time.

Sunday, needless to say, is family day. Anyone who's known me for at least two years, know very well that I'm not available for anything, anything at all on Sundays. It's strictly reserved. So you get the picture. Assignments? Sorry, I'm reserved.

But it's okay, coz I can always come back to you at night. (ok sounds weird) I'm talking assignments. I don't have to sleep, remember? Wait a minute. I am sleeping. That's why I'm crapping about this pointless if-I-don't-have-to-sleep matter. I'm dreaming.

sketchbook #2

This blog's lacking pictures.

Images. Visuals. Whatever.

So I thought I'll share some stuff from my sketchbook.

Enjoy! ^^

This is really random.

Hahah!

Ada orang tido laa?

More randoms.

Atikah. And Javier.

Stuff I found in the pc.

Some life drawing.

Till then,

can't wait for our not-so-holiday one-week holiday!

With replacement classes. Blahh.

ships

Apa ships? Relationships.

No, I'm not referring to boyfriend-girlfriend relationships. Bet most of you thought so. But yeah, it could be that. Or it could be friend-friend-ship. It could be mummy-daughter-ship. Or gramma-grandson-ship. Uncle-nephew-ship. Cousins-ship. I-know-you-you-know-me-ship. So many other types of ships. *Mehhh.*

While some ships are important, some others are, well, insignificant. Either way, it was once a ship. And this ship required two parties' contribution for it to exist. Now the ship's built. The obvious thing to do next is to make it sail. What does this ship run on? You, and the other person, of course.

So the ship sails. But heyy, some ships die halfway through the journey to there-is-no-end-actually. Can't make it anymore. Have to just rest. So it stays there, floating in the expansive sea of the unknown. As time wears, they *poof!* disappear. In this case, it's gotta be either one of the uhh. Builder? Builder's fault. Though not many realize it. Coz it just happens. And noone makes any effort to keep the ship sailing.

I'm trying, okay? I'm trying. I want this ship to keep sailing. Don't want it to ever pause. But I am one person. That's no use. I need you too. But of course, you've other ships to handle as well. Soon, this ship's gonna lose its rhythm. I definitely hope it doesn't happen, but it might stop moving altogether one day. If it does happen, I hope it stays there. Although motionless. At least I know the ship's still there, solid. Maybe one day we could revive it again. Fingers crossed.

I dunno what I'm trying to point out here. Ha-ha.

I'm just feeling. Dunno. Down. In a way. Knowing that one of my ships is about to come to a halt. One of my favourite ships. Sobs. Sucks knowing you can't do anything. And the other person isn't helping.

Eff. You're affecting me.

rants

I need to learn how to hate loving to sleep.

Or I could say,

I need to love to hate sleeping.

Either way works fine by me.

But the problem is, it's impossible.

IMPOSSIBLE I tell you.

* * *

On the other hand, a totally random thing to say unless you joined us for brunch earlier. I want a room entirely to myself! Somewhere I wouldn't get scolded even if I decorate the floor with drops of paint, stamp my fingerprints and footprints and noseprints and buttprints on the walls, mess it up with papers all over, throw pencils and charcoals and lingerie wherever I like so that they cover every nook and corner of the room. Uhh maybe not. I'll leave my clothes in the old room. I don't want my bra stained with poster colour.

Enough dreaming laa.

Kayy time to shuddup and get back to work.

Need to get rid of this guilt nagging feeling thing.

Sungguh tak awesome. Work arr! Work arr!

meh meh meh

I am an Illustration student.

I am an Illustration student.

I am an Illustration student.

Sheesh.

I have to keep telling myself that, like, saying it out loud, just so the fact actually register in my 512mb brain. I forget, okay. I forget that I'm no longer an Animation student. I forget that I have to love to draw. Love to paint. Love to illustrate.

I do love drawing. And painting. Honest!

Just not the illustration way. I guess.

Omg. Just shoot me now.

*Sigh*

People look at a piece of painting and think, "This is so pretty!" or "Whuaa! Awesome gila babi!" and sometimes "Yerr..." or "Fugly."

BUT deyy! The amount of time needed to execute those things! The amount of patience you have to secrete! (secrete? wtf) The SKILLS! The thinking and planning before that! At this point, at this level, with only this amount of skill that I possess, I'm telling you. No, I'm shouting, IT'S FUCKING HARD! And SLOW! Not to mention EXHAUSTING! (weird, but not physically)

Wth am I ranting here? Not sure.

I saw my fellow illustrator/classmates' works. There are good ones. And of course, uhh-not-nice-if-I-say-bad-but-really-it's-not-up-to-standard ones. But summa them admittedly complete it on a VERY-CINCAI-LAA-DON'T-CARE basis. (Deyy! Freekin do it on purpose!) Which explains the shakes-head-ahdoi outcome. Mehhh. Go die laa Ms. Soe. Like you're good enough to pass comments. Bluek. BUT IT'S TRUE! T__T

Me, I just can't cincai run my pencil across my paper and not care shit how it'll turn out. Just get it over with and hand it in. Fuh, I tak sanggup. (unless it's computer-related, like Computer Graphic Production Procedures, did I get the name correct? Ahh fuck it. No offense Helena.) I'd rather not hand my work in than handing in a piece that I know is worthless. At least measuring it in my standards.

Hahah! I can say that now coz it's only the third/fourth week of sem. Wait till it's almost end of sem and I know my ass is in trouble. THEN I'll shuddup and quickly get assignments done and hand them in for the sake of handing in. Yep, that way, I pass and don't learn shit. Babi.

Two pieces of A2 due on Friday and I only did one, ONE LAME thumb.

R.I.P.

ahh the smell of..

The smell of what?? Yenadei? I forget as soon as I type "smell". What did I wanna say? Mehhh. Okay apatu? Goat. *nods* This post is so! So. *blinks* So what? Again?

Apa laaa.

Nevermind.

I'm here to say; CheaWen lives!!

Apa laaa. Just because I'm missing from the cyber world, people think I've disappeared from earth as well. So my modem and CPU decided to befriend each other again. Eyy so you'll see me till you get sick of me. Sien. Puke. At the sight of me. Hahahah! Weyy don't laa.

P/s,

I wish Malaysia's got four seasons coz I want a summer boyfriend!

Hahahahahahahahahahahah!! XD

just because

Sketching like, absently, really helps.

Helps clear the mind.

Helps me breathe normally.

Helps to relax.

It's an awesome feeling.

To be at ease.

=)

Was cleaning my table.

Found the stack of animation papers.

The butt.

The balls.

The orang utan.

The sexy lady.

Poncho.

I miss Year 1 Sem 3.

A lot.

Doodles.

More doodles.

I love the far-away feeling I get when I sketch and just forget.

speechless

I'm this angry. To the point that I don't even know how to frown anymore. Can't feel the boiling bubbling thing inside like I always do, like people always do, when they're angry. I don't even feel like shouting at you anymore. I'm tired. Fucking tired. Of you. Of your shits. Your immaturity. Your plain stupidity. You. It's just you.

I lived my life up to this point cleaning up your shit. Think I might need to live the rest of my life doing that too. Thanks, but no thanks. I've got my own mess to clear too. Coz I don't freakin get other people to get me outta whatever dump I landed myself into. I get up and get out the hard way. I learn. I try. And I fight. The right way.

Your situation now? Don't think I could ever achieve that even if I reincarnate a thousand times. A hundred thousand times. The best thing is, it has absolutely nothing to do with me, but is related to me in every single fucking way. How am I suppose to deal with that?

I tried to let you in. Honestly. And I think I can shamelessly say here that I almost successfully did so. It's pretty easy actually. I'm a soft fellow. But you have to be so retarded. And selfish. Stubborn. Foolish. Cheater. You have no idea. The amount of hurt you've granted to people. You should've seen their faces. The number of times you broke the hearts of people who care for you. They cared for you. You haven't the faintest idea how much tears those around you have shed because of you. Don't get me wrong, they did not cry for you. I feel sorry for them. Sorry for myself. Fuck.

You were once someone I thought I could relate to. Someone whom I thought of as a companion. A friend in numerous ways. But now, you are past tense. You are not worthy of my time. At all. You don't deserve even my tiniest bit of attention. I'd rather die than use my last kilojoule of energy on you. I'll be as selfish to you as you were to me, and many others.

I don't think what I say here matters to you anyway. Nothing anybody else says matters. Nobody matters. Coz all you've got filled in that empty skull of yours is who-the-hell. Not true? Too bad. Coz that's what I think. Oh it matters to you now? Give a fuck. You great pretender.

I hope you find your brain that you left somewhere soon. And freakin use it. You've dragged me along with you this far. I can't go any further. Please, I'm exhausted. I don't wanna freakin cry without tears anymore. Shit. But good job on all the damage done.

b & w

Finished?

Yes.

Omigawd.

What?

Ya gonna try colourin' it?

Uhh.

Forget it.

Okay.