I am an atheist.

Long post! I'm on a mission to recover my lost ability to write like a human being. Go, me!

Recently, a deviant by the name of yuumei (Wenqing Yan in most other senses of the word), an amazing artist whose dA profile states "Proud to be an atheist", was sent a message that stated

"I love your work and I was hoping we could become friends, but then I saw that you're an atheist and I'm scared of atheists..."

This is, frankly, the stupidest piece of trash I've ever heard on the topic. Scared of atheists? Why? We're not the ones who started witch-hunts. We're not the ones who insist that you'll burn for eternity after you die. We're not going to put you in a bare cell, take away your sacred texts and shove science at you. We're not going to label you as uncivilised and jahil. We're not going to round all the theists up and gas them.

You're afraid of the wrong people, hon. In fact, we atheists are the ones who should be scared - of fanatics like you, who'll do who knows what to us because we aren't proper people like you are.

It's not just a western thing to be so anti-atheist. Two years ago, a certain classmate declared, with absolute certainty, that atheists (like myself, though I'm guessing he didn't know) were disgusting and would burn in hell when they died. Lovely. Look, I know it's never too late to repent and I can be brought to see the light, and I appreciate your concern for my soul, but I just don't see how it is that I can be brought to fear a fire that, to me, does not exist.

This country requires me to state my religion whenever I apply for anything, regardless of how useless this little procedure may be in any other process than that of discrimination. My parents expect me to show my Buddhism whenever the need arises because they don't know about my non-belief, and would not condone it if they knew. It really isn't nice, the feeling of kneeling at the altar and pretending to pray to deities I don't know, all the while thinking "Shit, this incense smoke is killing me and the environment."

I have nothing at all against religion. I just don't want to be forced into it, because I've realised that religion and I simply do not fit. Neither do I like how so many have used it as an excuse for so many things, although that is of course entirely the fault of the individuals concerned. I'm totally fine with religion, as long as it isn't forced on me. Have I made that clear enough? I'd hate to receive all sorts of senseless responses on how I don't respect religion, because I do. The world would be messed up without religion, that's for sure. I know that.

But STOP TELLING ME I'M WRONG, DAMN IT. There is no right and wrong about this, alright? Thank you.

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P.s.: Yes, I know I use a lot of Oh-my-God, What-the-Hell and suchlike in my speech, but that, as we very well know, is slang.

baby steps, infant wings

If only Raggs' Requiem, the requiem for a kingdom destroyed by war, had been sung by a less childish-sounding singer, I'd like it a lot more. But it makes me sad enough as it is, anyway. Never fails to put me in some kind of melancholy for a good while.

I'm begging you, Shio Yee, do a cover of it! You'd do so much better than the original. ;_;

Mmm... Have I mentioned that I've gone all Wabisabi? My new Chrome and blog themes, anyway. And, now that I think about it, my desktop background fits into this quite nicely! Heh.

wrong side of the island

I didn't get enough sleep on Friday night, but somehow I found myself waking up on Saturday at dawn. What else was there for me to do but take this highly unusual occurrence as a signal to go for a walk along the beach? Ah, I want our old camera back, mum. This one's so blurry!

bah.

Weeeeell. The template designer thing is pretty cool, but I can't be bothered to do anything other than pick a ready-made template off the shelf and apply it. :/ I'm too tired to customise.

Penang was... okay. Being away from the Internet for three days... wasn't.

:D :D :D

I is happy. I's sentence have been reducted.

Also, Blogger has only just informed me of its new Template Designer function, which I am itching to try out. No wonder everyone's blog looks so good while mine is still stuck on Minima. ;__; I'll get on it as soon as I'm DONE WORKING.

Tee-hee. I is happy.

when tomorrow is just around the corner

This song wants you to know that:

You can’t quit until you try
You can’t live until you die
You can’t learn to tell the truth
Until you learn to lie

You can’t breathe until you choke
You gotta laugh when you’re the joke
There’s nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful
Will you swear on your life
That no one will cry at my funeral?

I really like this song. :) Yup, life is beautiful, even if:

i. my job sucks.
ii. I have been robbed of my precious holidays by said job.
iii. I have to rethink my plans for the future (also due to said job).
iv. the AFA exam is tomorrow and I HAVE NOT STUDIED ONE BIT.
v. I somehow cannot find mushrooms for my Zen garden.
vi. the releases of Kaze Hikaru on MF have stopped.
vii. MF seems to be turning into a shoujo manga viewer.
viii. the weird bites on my arm are irritating me to distraction.

Hmm. I meant for this to be a pro-life post but it's more like a complaint now. Ehehe. As an aside, I have taken to scouring YouTube to look for nice songs. S'tough on the ears, but the results are worth it!

you can't live until you die

If I died today, how would you feel tomorrow? Just curious.

Candy keeps a starving Katoo running!
Wasn't in the mood for lunch, so... ^^

to be crowned clown

Being modern isn't something to be so proud of after all, eh?

Not Quite Insomnia

(an imported post from my birdhouse)

I love Winter a little too much. So much, in fact, that I have frequently been spending late nights with her. This would have been fine, had my circadian clock not adjusted to this change of pace so efficiently...

I now get sleepy as the sun rises, and today I woke up just a few hours before sunset.

Oh, Winter. If only I could control myself better. Plants Vs Zombies just isn't worth the havoc this change is wreaking in my daily life.

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As an aside... I find it strange that I have so many little things I want to say, to the point where I post different entries into three different journals at about the same time. Somehow, having everything typed out like this brings a kind of relief - like I've made a little note to myself, so that I will be able to remember these thoughts. I want to read all this again when I'm much older, just to recall the kinds of things I was thinking. I've realised that this is why I keep writing these random posts even if no one reads them - I write them to myself, for myself. I suppose that's why my writing is so self-absorbed.

So, to the future me, hello. You wrote this when you were eighteen because you didn't want to forget me.

Now, I may have said this before, but I hope you're doing well and you're happy - because I want to be. It feels like there's a lot going on within me right now, but I don't really know what. I wonder if you do. I'm sorry that I write so often to you - but I can't help it. I think you understand. I think you'll appreciate the emotional relief you experienced when you were me. It's too bad you can't write to me, though.

It's funny, ne? People usually talk to someone they're close to (or, in some pathetic cases, write to an agony aunt) when they aren't feeling happy, but I write to you. Well, the justification is that you know me the best, and you understand the best - though sometimes I wonder if you think of me as a mere child. Please don't. I don't want to change so much in the future to the point where I will see my past self as a completely separate being, or even a stranger. You came to be because I was. Remember that, for my sake - because I don't want to disappear.

I think it's strange that I can write to you so much when I don't know anything about you. I can only hope that I'm writing to someone who feels as I feel about the important things in life and who loves the people I do. After all, I want to be the kind of person who smiles upon receiving a message from the past.

Promise me, won't you?

That you will smile when you see all the messages I'm leaving you, and remember how it felt to be me - and that you will name your retirement-home cat Ringo. Mind you, don't ever forget what Ringo means. Forgetting what Ringo means is forgetting your entire youth. Don't you dare forget.

-me.

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Haha. My aside turned out so long it became the main body of the post.

meh.

Movie review! (Haha, what rubbish.)

I just finished Ponyo (yes, I know it's a little late, but I assure you I'm watching Arriety as soon as I can), but I didn't really like it all that much. Which is an unusual thing for me to say about a Ghibli film - a Miyazaki/Hisaishi one, at that. I guess it's because I was supporting the so-called bad guy all the way?

But really, the so-called protagonist was the one who nearly brought about the end of the world - though in her defense it was done unwittingly - and it was the misunderstood antagonist who kept trying to restore the balance, with no help from the clueless supporting characters who all believed he was evil.

JUST BECAUSE HE LOOKED CREEPY.

And in the end, HE apologised. Bloody hell.

MEH.

...It was a decent movie, I suppose. I just wish she learned, at the end of it, how much trouble she caused. But no, everyone's happy because the love between two five-year-olds proved true, never mind that our homes were destroyed and the town is hundreds of metres underwater.

AND HER FATHER APOLOGISED. WHY?!

I'm sorry, I just really had to get that out of my system.

do a little double-take

One month ago.

I discover, quite by chance, that someone I've never had the taste for actually writes in a style I enjoy reading.
"Heck, this person can write?" is my disbelieving statement. But yes, that person can write, and much, much better than I can.

Slap yourself, me, and let's get on with life.

On the same day, I also find out that another person, whose only merit to me before this is a rather boring niceness, is wonderfully gifted in art and design, in a way I can only ever dream of being.

Slap yourself, me, and let's die of shame right here, right now.

That was a month ago. Today, I talked to that first person I mentioned. I think life is a little bit nicer now. :)

Have you met Oswald?

Everyone meets Oswald sooner or later.

No one likes Oswald, but Oswald just can't get enough of us. He's the worst of uninvited guests: dirty, conspicuous, obscenely unattractive and disturbingly intrusive into your personal space. Some people manage to keep clearer of Oswald than others, though - they're probably born with it.

Oswald is a bit of a paedophile. You'll notice that it is mostly young, pubescent people that suffer from Oswald's unwelcome affections. Also, Oswald is bisexual. It doesn't matter what gender you are, Oswald will come after you anyway. And neither does it matter if you're ugly or beautiful - when Oswald's on you, none of that will matter. Oswald leaves a mark on you that can never be washed off, no matter now hard you scrub; the faces of those who have been ravaged by Oswald are never quite the same.

There are many different ways to deal with Oswald. Some people force him off (squeezing), some use anti-Oswald products (cleansers and clearing creams), others ignore him and pray that he'll go away in time.

Personally, I favour the Anything Goes method. This method is simple: I do whatever takes my fancy whenever it feels right. No obligations, rules or authority. The problem is, my skin, not being the most intelligent of my organs, tends to interpret "Anything Goes" as the short form of "Anything And Everything Comes But Nothing Ever Goes". As a result, Oswald and his whole brood (including his great-great-great-niece a dozen times removed) have been camping out on my face for quite a while now.

...

This post is so pointless and shallow, it's a pancake.

looky!

.

This BIG fellow was just outside my front door a little while back. Needless to say, I refused to get close enough to get a picture, so photo credits actually go to Tay Chee Yong (haha). I wondered for a bit why a spider, as it so obviously was, would have four legs - then I realised they're just in pairs! Haha, silly me.

"...your human heart will falter, and that is what makes you human."

- Bishop Labrador

On an unrelated note... I love George Carlin, almost as much as I do Terry Pratchett. :) Rest in peace, you clever old man.

(This is a little early, though; the anniversary of his death isn't for another three weeks.)

within temptation

I wanted to do another long post as part of my recovery programme, but I don't have anything to write about that will make up so many words. So I'll stick some song lyrics in here instead!

Are they themselves to blame?
The misery, the pain;
Didn't we let go?
Allowed it, let it grow
If we can't restrain
The beast which dwells inside
It will find its way
Somehow, somewhere in time

Sanctus Espiritus
Redeem us from our solemn hour
Sanctus Espiritus
Insanity is all around us
Sanctus Espiritus
Is this what we deserve?

See why this band makes me emo?

I'm thinking of attempting an AMV using another WT song, since their songs are so very epic-sounding. Incredibly well-suited to any emo videos, really; I noticed yesterday that almost every line from Hand of Sorrow fits some scene or other from Kuroshitsuji :D and yes, I have indeed watched the whole series enough times over to recall from memory exactly which scene would fit.

But... I think I'll put it on hold until the actual semester break comes. I'm certain that it'll take a damn long time, what with the knowledge of the obsessive perfectionist I'll turn into.

Fufufu. I can't wait! xD

this post is not so pointy.

I've developed a taste for shounen manga in the last month. My soul is weary from all the stereotypical shoujo titles out there, with their pretty art and "cute" protagonists. For crying out loud, even the school's female boxing champ is actually a tsundere with some mega moe moves under that rough-tough exterior.

See, here's the thing. Both shounen and shoujo manga are formulaic, that's a fact. To have a mangaka whose concept breaks through the formulae is wonderful, but that only ever happens when the infamous blue moon shows itself. So a mangaka will generally stick to the tried-and-tested formula and apply it in his or her own settings.

The trick to standing out and selling hotcake-style lies in the application. The mangaka has to take the basic, universal formula and craft a story with it as a base. In short, the mangaka who creates the most compelling world and characters is the one who gets popular. This is, of course, ceteris paribus - assuming the levels of storytelling skill and art are constant. For example, a mangaka who creates a detailed depiction of an alternate universe will have one up against another who might be less clear about things like social systems and such. Right?

And here's the reason why shounen manga makes for a more compelling read than shoujo. The most popular shounen manga (i.e. Naruto, One Piece - and let's not forget the legendary Dragon Ball) are all fantasy titles. The mangaka creates a whole world that has its own social system, manner of dress and sometimes language. The potential depth allows for one hell of a lot more progressions than a world grounded in reality can produce, hence the extremely long run they enjoy (shounen manga are almost always hundreds of chapters long, while your average shoujo manga has under fifty). Think Tolkien. The detail in his Middle Earth was amazing, no? Of course, there isn't a manga out there that has anywhere near that much detail, but the point stands.

Now, shoujo on the other hand... I should stress that not all shoujo manga is vapid and fluffy, but a vast majority are. These manga exist mostly to cater to schoolgirls, and therefore the story is more often than not set in a school environment. The point is to make the story relatable. This is painfully limiting, as there are only so many things a sappy schoolgirl can do. Thus, the shoujo manga's setting is one that is restricted by reality's rules - though the characters are a different matter. The male lead is almost always totally unrealistic.

=.="

Ahem.

So within which of these limits is it most possible to pull off all sorts of stunts? Fantasy or reality? In which can a formula be applied with the most variance? And that, my dear fellow insanies, is why shounen manga can run for years and shoujo manga usually doesn't.

That having been said, Kaze Hikaru has been running for 27 volumes and counting! It's not your normal shoujo manga, though. Far from it! :D

I now follow about seven shounen titles, and I'm planning to look for more! Hee.

p.s. By the way, shounen manga is also more dependable, since it's released on a very regular basis.
p.p.s. Plus, the outfits in said fantasy worlds are fantastic!

pain.

Me wants a longish coat.

I really want to write a long post. I'm convinced it will make me feel better - mostly because that would mean that I've understood enough about something to write about it. But of late I find myself unable to go beyond five or six lines, and even those few lines are just about meaningless. I haven't been able to write anything lately, not even the dialogue shorts I used to do every week. I don't know if it was the overall change in my mood this year that caused it, but the point is I can no longer write - at all, not even badly.

Maybe it was the decadent indulgence in manga and Photoshop, and too little reading, that caused it. I find my tendency to seek whatever I seek in pictorial form increasing, and I can't be bothered to read chunky bits of text. I stopped relying on my imagination alone to picture something described in words, instead looking for pictorial representations rendered by others and accepting those as though they are definite.

I want to return to words. I don't want only my right brain to be stimulated. This post, short as it is so far, took me half an hour to construct; even then, I couldn't articulate anything properly. My head actually hurts when I make an attempt to write, groping in the dark for the right words and trying to keep a firm hold on the thought itself. How different this is, when I consider the fact that I used to spill stuff out in the same manner that I would use when speaking.

Wait.

If I think about it, I don't actually speak as much as I used to. Is that why? It's strange, but I suppose it's one of the many, many things brought about by the year's change. I know it's already been six months, but I still haven't got used to the fact that we're no longer in uniforms and sitting on floors on a daily basis. Everyone is moving on and looking towards the future, but it's hard to do so when there are so many gaping holes in the patchwork and no new pieces that can fill them up.

I'm much the same as I was, but only because what's missing was never known to most. Has anyone noticed, I wonder, that I've been somewhat subconsciously talking more about my dictractions (which are, by the way, manga) now? I'm sure that hints at something, though I haven't yet figured out a way to put that into words either.

You know what? I have decided that, to restore my interest in words, reading is in order. And what better books to read than Sir Pratchett's?

Well, the therapy commences tomorrow. For now, sleep would be nice.

A long post. I did it. Oh, sweet relief.