Epic Failures

1. Failed to remember all the key positions on a guitar
2. Failed in the debate this year. Humiliated.
3. Failed to write an essay on time.
4. Failed to get great a touch screen phone
5. Failed to impress people.
6. Failed to do everything.

The depressed world of depression kills lots of depressed brain cells.

Interclass Debate

from: http://ageofuncertainty.blogspot.com

When there's a will, there's a way.
Once again, the annual interclass debate has arrived. The time from now to the debate is a mere 30 hours. How long will preparation time be after deducting resting hours and so on? I have lost once, in the debate last year. With shaky cold sweaty palms, I read my lines. I was nervous, as if butterflies were really in my tummy. After being upset and challenged by that epic failure, I decided to retry, and this time, I'm gonna make sure my group and I win this debate.

Failing to plan means planning to fail.
My group were uncooperative, not supportive, selfish and I was a bloody lousy speaker. Eh, how could I lose to a non-living object? Damn. We really planned to fail last year as we really failed to plan. One failure is bad enough. In fact, too bad.

A hope is always something that is uncertain, not solid, and unreliable. Still, I hope that I will be a confident and extraordinary debater.

Happy New Year!

Time whizzes like a punctured gas balloon, so do the fireworks. 

C-H-E-E-S-E cake

A goluptious  cheese cake with chopped apricot and strawberries.That's really toothsome!

I was the co-baker. But the air pockets in the cake doesn't seem to stay, maybe it's just the heavy layer of tangy cream cheese. There's still half of it in my fridge though.

Mom, it's only 4 oclock in the morning!

It was only 4 in the morning when my dad knocked my door. "Wake up! it's 4. 10 now." The silence of that morning was suddenly disturbed my that morning call, and my alarm call. It's the end of another year, when my house maid requests to return home for Christmas. I jolted out of bed, and straight to the bathroom. I soon grabbed my camera and started on the journey to the "Low Cost Carriage Terminal" My father dislikes going there for a few reasons, one: it looks quite like "pudu raya- Malaysia's busiest bus terminal" two, its really along way from home, a journey nigh onto one hour.

When we got home, we hit the sack right yo about 10 or 11, A really nice energy boosting nap.

The glowing street lights in the pitch dark morning.

Curvy lights at 6 in the morning. More red tailgate lights to be seen.

Some random flower in my potted garden.

Poinsettia

Sparkling little water droplet taken in super macro. (FL6.55mm, 1/80s, F4.1, ISO 800)

My Grandmother Part 1

The warm stagnated air filled the house on that Saturday, the mobile phone beeped, and as far as I know, my grandmother who is suffering from dementia has to stay over our place for a night. Understanding her current condition, she feels disoriented whenever she goes from someplace to another. She would definitely cause many nerve-racking troubles, and the verdict is: YOUR DAMN DAY IS RUINED. She isn't the cool grandmother which you an hang out with anymore. Having her with you feels like a burden. She has became terribly dependent, that's not a very huge matter. The thing is that she literally does not know what she is doing, and sometimes might think back to the early 70s, when my grandpa was still alive. From sane to insane, she might bathe 6 or 7 times a day, or even hoard whatever she thinks is hers but isn't, and even hide your car key somewhere and deny being guilty. And expecting her to have good memory at this stage, that's likely impossible. At this moment she asks you something, seconds later, she pesters you again. This affair goes on and on until you disappear from her sight, it goes on like a record which repeats the last bit of the last song over and over again until you stop the machine.

If only time could rotate anticlockwise to the past. My grandma was a very brave person, not afraid of any threats nor rats. She was active in the stock markets, good in cooking, and nourishing nine children with great sense of responsibility. She never uttered a single complaint taking care of that many kids. She had six daughters and three sons. All of them were different in every way. Some were hot-tempered, some were irresponsible, some were nice, and some washed their bloody hands too clean that they gave all sort of reasons for not looking after my demented grandmother.

~END OF PART ONE~

Oh YEAH!

08's School Diary. Simple but surprisingly interesting.

09's Diary. Horrible background with little or no sense of art.

Click on the picture for the large view of it.

My Creation. Most vivid in color all these years.

Well, well, I was not really expecting mine to be chosen, but the hard work paid off anyway. The HM is satisfied with my cover design, and I really do hope that this cover will boost the sales next year.