Although I've been taking piano lessons since I was five (on and off), I feel I have no real talent. In other words, I'm just another trained pianist.

Recently, I've been watching videos of people playing the piano on Youtube, later trying to play the same song. I found that when I play the piano, even with the exact same song, it always sound far worse than those I've seen on the videos. I guess my playing just doesn't have the "oomph" in it. As in emotion.

I'm emotionless. Oh noes.

Anyway, I tried to "feel" the music when I play. Bad choice. I screwed up at 384973943 parts of the song, because I'm just pure bad at multi-tasking. I couldn't concentrate on both the physical and emotional aspect of piano-playing.

I totally need a new hobby.

~ Angelina

It's strange how dreams change, and how an I, once an aspiring scientist, switched my goals towards becoming a criminal psychologist to the current solicitor. Actually the last one was somewhat my mum's choice.

Anyway...

Many years ago, before the Malaysian education system ruined my ambition, my dream was to actually genetically combine traits from various animals and come out with an entirely new species.

And I suddenly lost the motivation to continue this post. I think I'm suffering from A.D.D.. I can't friggin' concentrate in class because while my lecturer is talking about the Human Rights Act, my head is in South Africa watching a "live" wildlife documentary.

Hmm, you know, I really want to go to the U.K. because I think it'll be really fun.
I also want to get a pet chicken again.

I THINK I'VE LOST IT!!!

~ Angelina

My lecturer was one of many to declare their distaste of their own country, our country, Malaysia.

My classmates told us stories of how non-Malays were humiliated in public in their National Service camp.

Many of my friends with constant outstanding results were denied scholarships from the government.

Any many, many more.

So many have voiced their opinions on the racial discrimination happening in Malaysia.

Frankly, I've heard about it, read about it, but never felt it.

And I'm a Chinese.

In fact, I LOVE all the races in Malaysia. Don't ask me why.

I get a warm, fuzzy feeling when people of other races treat me nicely.

Once, there was this Indian cleaner lady at the parking lot near my college where I parked my car. As I got down, she waved and smiled at me and greeted me a "good morning". I smiled back and returned the greetings. What's more, it was the first time we met.

Today, as I was going back, a Malay resident in my neighbourhood was just walking out of her house to her car. I gave her a tiny smile, and she returned a nice, warm one.

Oh, right! One more thing! When I was in National Service, I called out to one of my Malay trainers to ask about the schedule. She replied, "Ya, sayang?" ("Yes, dear?" in English)

I think that people of other races are really sweet to me. I really don't know how people in some places can fight because of their skin colour like there's no tomorrow.

Personally, I've never heard people insulting people of the other race. Though, I've heard of some other people's experiences.


I think that generally, most Malaysians want to live peacefully. As long as not provoked or hate-incited by the government, I think Malaysia will be a really peaceful place to live in.

So, in conclusion:
Do I dislike the current government? Yes.
Do I dislike Malaysia? No.
Do I like Malaysia enough to want to stay and contribute to the country? No, as of yet.


~ Angelina

It's 3am. Two essays incomplete. Due tomorrow. Or, I should say, in a few hours' time.

I guess I wouldn't be able to properly concentrate on my tasks if I didn't blog this out. I think I'm going through another age transition. This is my second one, I think.

The first was about 3 or 4 years ago. The advancing to secondary school took me to a different level of life. I felt like I was a kid, but life showed otherwise. Homework required a different level of thinking, a higher level of maturity to be exact. I wasn't ready to think like an all-matured teenager. All I longed, at that stage, was to play catch with my friends and argue over which guy was cuter.

But the demands of the society were different. They wanted to see a statistic of many A's and watch you bury yourself in a mountain of books every hour of the day. The demands of home greatly differs with what we enjoy with our friends. I guess I got confused without knowing it, and thus got very depressed (dig up my previous posts, don't be shocked). I couldn't understand why I was feeling angry and sad for no reason, but I guess I do now.


I sense another transition coming, again. In fact, I think it is already happening. As much as I want to continue feeling like a carefree teenager with no worries, I couldn't.

At first, I thought college life was fun. The lecturers don't chase you with a cane for your homework. They do not even yell or scold. It is more like, "If you wanna do your homework, then that's good. If you don't, I don't really care either, it's not my results, it's not my problem."

Joo thought I'd be happy with this situation. I thought I'd love the extra freedom. But I guess I was wrong. Previously, the fate of our results is a burden of the teachers. They were the ones who carry the stress, they were the ones who worry for us. They cane, they scream, they nagged. All we need to do is complete our homework, study and grumble.

Now, they don't worry for us anymore. We have to worry about our results, we have to take the initiative to walk that extra mile, our future is now really in our hands. I hate to admit this, but, I think I'm missing school. I swore back then that I would never miss school, but I guess I was wrong.

The society in college is so different from school. They act differently, talk differently and have all sorts of attitudes, most which do not really appeal to me. This tiny taste of the outside world made me feel like I was a katak di bawah tempurung (frog in the well). I realised that there was much of life which I have not seen.

And to have all that coming to me all of a sudden (with my AS level exams four months after my first day in college), I think I'm feeling confused all over again. I really, really hope the depression wouldn't come back. Those were the worst years of my life. Or bittersweet, I would say. It is so bad that it is an unbearable bitter stage, but so good at the same time that it is extraordinarily sweet.

I really want to have "fun" in a teenager's context, but I couldn't. Because what was fun to me then, wasn't now. A few months back, I was a highly-obsessed Sims fan. Now, I couldn't even start to imagine how much time that game would strip off me. My daily-dos mostly alternate between college work and my mum's work. I wish I could literally buy time for leisure. Unfortunately, the universe doesn't work that way. If only they have personal blackholes for sale, I could bend space-time and slow things down.

Things are just moving too fast, way to fast. So fast I couldn't even grasp onto my life and hold it into position that I just feel like I'm falling apart. Falling into a high-density blackhole faster than the speed of light, where part of me falls faster than the rest; slowly, or rather, exceedingly quickly tearing me apart.

I was on my way to college when I had my first car accident today. As would any other first-timers, I was terrified to the bone. My phone's credit was expired. My parents were not there to back me up. I felt like a little lamb trying to fend for itself in a wolves' lair. My first thought was - the driver would call the police, the police would come and take me, handcuffed, to the police station, I would be heavily beaten up by them, and my parents would bail me out the next day. I thought my license was going to be withheld. I worried for almost every single thing I could think of.

My mind was blank. I had no idea whatsoever of what am I supposed to do or what was going to happen.

A man in his forties came down from the black Myvi. I listened to my uneven heartbeat as he slowly walked towards my car. He was going to scream at me, I thought. I winded down my window, feeling terrified and hopeless. I began to plead with whatever words I could think of, my two shivering hands clasped together.

"I'm so, so sorry. Can you please call my father? Please forgive me, I'm just a new driver, I just got my license, I'm inexperienced. I think my brake is faulty."

I know the last excuse was pathetic, but what else could I do? The slightly balded man was silent through my impromptu "redemption". I noticed he had a small bandage over his forearm while he continued to ignore what I was saying.

He finally voiced out, "Mat yeh hou mah?" (What's number is it?)

Oh, crap. No wonder he didn't say anything. He didn't even understand my "speech"! Feeling stupid, I gave him my father's phone number. He called my father and they started having a conversation in Cantonese which I could only partly understand. Finally, he passed his phone to me. My father asked me not to be afraid, and that he will settle whatever damages with him. I think I must have looked really innocently horrified, because I overheard something in Cantonese that sounded like it meant, "She looks so afraid her face has a bad colour."

Finally, he asked me to give him some basic details like my name, IC, car number, address, etc. I apologised to him one final time before he let me off.

Night came. We (my mother, father and me) were talking about the matter over the dinner table. After what I've heard, my heart fell. Guilt surged through my veins. I felt a sharp pain in my heart. I almost broke down.

I found out that the bald man was a kidney failure patient. He was from somewhere south of Selangor and had to travel to Klang to borrow his friend's car to travel to Kuala Lumpur to carry out his weekly dialysis (blood transfusion). He had been doing this for nine years. The friend who lent him his car was a person who treasured his car a lot, but due to strong friendship and sympathy, willingly lent his car to this man, the victim.

I felt so bad. But what could I do? Even though my parents have repaid the damages, I still feel a sense of guilt, like I've done great harm to this humble and considerate man, who did not even criticise my driving, let alone scream.


The world is unfair. There are rich and evil people, and tonnes of poor and good-hearted. I will one day earn enough; enough to satisfy my wants, and to help all the people who I see are deserving. That day will come. I will make a difference, even if it's just to one person's life, I will know that I have tried.

To the victim of my unintentional carelessness, I thank you for your kindness and understanding. I know you will not see this, but at least the world will know that there are still many good people out there. I am very, very sincerely sorry about what have happened, but what is done, is done. Compensating you is the most I could do. With this, I bid you good luck in everything you do, especially if it's health-related. May you always be blessed.

~ Angelina

The human rant:

I hate humans.

Need a reason? No worries. I have tonnes. Humans are pesky, hypocritical, self-worshipping, money-minded, hard-headed creatures that are currently destroying the earth because they are pesky, hypocritical, self-worshipping, money-minded and hard-headed.

And yeah, by using the term "human", I'm referring to myself too, no need for those "what about you?" comments.

The parent rant:

I think I want to stop socializing. And I mean like cutting off all the cheesy smiles and insincere wavings. Because my mum thinks that I treat other people better than her. She thinks I love my friends more than I love her.

But, cut the drama, how the hell do I treat her like a normal person when she's acting like, I don't know, funny? Is that the right term to use? Every time I talk to her; well, fine, 80% of the time; I can't get a decent answer out of her.

Me: And so just now at school, my friends and I were... *talks about school*
Her: Mm hmm.
Me: *finally done* So, where are we going later?
Her: Mm hmm.
Me: Should I just go and die?
Her: Mm hm... What? What were you saying? Sorry I didn't catch that.

AND SHE THINKS THAT I DON'T MAKE AN EFFORT? I mean, if I talk to much about myself, then fine. But what about the other things? Like asking what are we eating later, or what are we going do after that? All "mm hmm", "mm hmm", and "mm hmm". And then she would blame me that I talk to her when her mind is the busiest like I read minds. Then, she'll go on and on and on about how she'll go about her business, how is this going, how is that going and how I should be helping her.

She doesn't listen to what I say, and expects me to listen to her?

I'm fed up already.

The self rant:

None. What? I said I was human.

Okay, so I promised to update on my chicken pox condition. The reason why they asked my family to bring me from Melaka all the way back to Selangor is this:

They were ALL OVER my face. And there are a few in my eye. I could hardly open them. They're also all over my throat and mouth. Had to have a liquid diet for a few days.

Due to my hideousness, I cannot face anyone. I get stared at everywhere I go. I think people must've been thinking that I contracted some kind of dangerously infectious skin disease or something. Therefore, I disguised myself:


The above pictures were days ago. About two days after I return from camp. And this is a picture I took just minutes before this post:


Still hideous, but not as hideous as when the poxes were still fresh.

And when a girl has her beauty robbed from her, you don't wanna go near her. Cause she's gonna be dangerous. Waaaaaay too dangerous for you to handle. Rawr!

And now in the story of Beauty and the Beast, the Beast changed its sex.

P.S.: I'm going back to national service tomorrow, which is Saturday. Gotta be there before 5.30pm.


~ Angelina

So I was sent back from the national service cause I got chicken pox. Feeling worse as the days pass.

I feel horrible. The lumps are all over my throat. Every swallow is a battle. A painful one.

Will relate the full story later. Got sent home to sleep.

~ Angelina.

I'll be serving the national service for the next three months. I'll be back on March 11 (if nothing goes wrong). Please pray that you don't see me in the papers.

GOODBYE EVERYONE!!! *wipes tears*

P.S.: Please leave good luck wishes in my comment box =x

So I decided it is time to redesign my blog, thanks to the bunch of free time I have in my hands. I finally found a picture of a street *ahem*...trail...*ahem* but it was kinda blurry, and it wasn't even misty. Thanks to photoshop, a sharpened and now misty street (fine, trail) is now the header of my blog! It looked nice when I first tested it out on my template-tester blog, but when I transferred it here and added those widgets, it looks clogged up! :(

Anyhow, what do you think? Is it better? Worse? I think the colours are a little weird, but I can't think of how to recolour them so I just left it like that. Leave me a comment and tell me what you think :) *waits for a once-in-a-blue-moon visitor to rate*

~ Angelina