Designer Diary 1

I felt that it is quite appropriate to showcase some of my art pieces which follow the ideal template of what ive been taught in school as part of the A level art curriculum..

I feel so artistic , creative and inspired when i did these pieces... and so i wish that you viewers would feel the same way i do! weeee... take me to those proverbial meadows my magical red shoes! and you must come too!


let my magical red shoes take me wherever my imagination wants to go! weeee!


First, i had to tackle the theme of "Friendship".. After a bit of pondering about how to go about presenting it... i realised that it would be very difficult because the slightest error could sway the viewer into interpreting it as the theme of "misshapen scrotums that i, the viewer would most like to fondle" Such was my situation.. but with careful research i managed to pull it off, much to the delight of my art teacher and mentor... The characters in the art piece were modelled after my two bestest friends.. Azmi and Yazid kerinting, with the same hairstyle and fashion sense.. Be prepared to get blown away...



"FRIENDSHIP"

The next theme thrown at me was equally hard, just when i thought that i had the worst behind me.. It was "Rejection".. I recalled the last time that feeling overwhelmed me.. yes.. it was when i was not selected for combined schools dikir barat first eleven.. tears welled up but acting swiftly, i channelled those emotions into creating my next piece...


"REJECTION"

Riding on the momentum of my two previous masterpieces, i undertook the task of presenting the perennial teenage cry for attention, identity, misshapen scrotums and how "life is so unfair!".. Yes.. it was "Angst"...


"ANGST"

Finally.. to top it all off... i give you my latest piece...


<"MAT SACHOK THAT I MET AT CHIJMES WHILE CLUBBING NAMED ZAINAL(ZAICHOK)"

experimentation of photoshop effects just for the sake of looking nice.. my protest to the formulaic, serious, "thematic concerns and interpretation" in a recommended embarrassingly- literal-kind-of-way of A level art..

*right-click the link(s) and open it in a new window so it wont interfere with your reading you dumb motherfuckers.. blearrgghh*rolls eyes*

Going home today, i got stuck in the same MRT carriage with a teenage girl squad
it reminded me of the time i myself was a tweenage girl, my life revolving around neoprint machines, fussing over the latest babydoll- dress designs and Jackie Cheung. Also, what was most significant in my tweenage years was puberty, tackling it, getting caught by mom when i was stroking myself while listening to evanescence(watch the whole scene Here .. dont worry its not porn) . It was so embarassing, you go girl! That was also the time when i got to know boys! but after highly productive discussions with my dear diary, i discovered they need help in understanding us girls! Hence, i have, for the good of women everywhere, written a manual for guys starting with deciphering the code of womens' dialogue patterns.

WORDS WOMEN USE
*****************************
FINE
This is the word women use to end an argument
when they are right and you need to shut up. (talk to the hand! you go girl!)

FIVE MINUTES
If she is getting dressed, this is half an hour. Five
minutes is only five minutes if you have just been
given 5
more minutes to watch the game before helping
around the house.

NOTHING
This is the calm before the storm. This means
"something," and you should be on your toes.
Arguments that begin with 'Nothing' usually end in
"Fine"

GO AHEAD
This is a dare, not permission. Don't do it.

LOUD SIGH
This is not actually a word, but is a non-verbal
statement often misunderstood by men. A "Loud Sigh"
means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why
she is wasting her time standing here and arguing
with you over "Nothing"

THAT'S OKAY
This is one of the most dangerous statements that
a woman can make to a man. "That's Okay" means
that she wants to think long and hard before
deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

THANKS
A woman is thanking you. Do not question it or
faint. Just say you're welcome.

Send this to the men you know to warn them about
future arguments they can avoid if they remember
the terminology!

its so easy... but guys are such monkeys! blearrgghh.. like talk to the hand! *rolls eyes*


*i got the dumb list from an email..

most blogs you read out there hold mostly anemic and vapid writing as its content. Yet, most blog-owners are proud of them like how my petulant grandpa is of his "top three varicose veins that most look like moses lim". Most entries detail the most mundane daily activities

"today i went to orchard with baby, so we walked to heeren then we walked to to taka and then we went home.. when i reached home, i sms baby and i was so tired!

*butterfly enigma bared her soul at 08:31 PM*"

while others use it to just bitch about

"dewi ingat dia lawa sangat, nak step lawa! tak guna punya pompuan! rampas matair orang lain! pelacur!

*roxygal made her confession at 05:14 PM*"

I wondered what made them write this way.. were they half asleep when in the process of updating their blogs?



or were they simultaneously watching balding-middle-aged-men(mat botak patchy patchy) porn that they werent that focussed on what they were writing cos they preferred to watch the porn instead?hmmm...



After some blog-hopping and adjusting the sock wrapped around my testicles, i realised that blogs were the next best thing to mind reading! Yes, and with the proliferation of blogs, more and more people were getting their minds exposed for all to see. Sensing a conspiracy, i pointed the finger accusingly at those nyonya assasins i had seen riding around in their dirtbikes wielding katanas in dominatrix-themed leather even though they werent related to this topic in any way. Were they weeding out future ninjas? Were they scouting for new nyonya recruits? Every nyonya assasin i tried to approach has intimidated me with their murderous stares..




Such tigerish appearances scared even me, a ninja, a premature evolution of humankind into homo superior.. what more normal homo sapien law enforcement officers i thought.. It would do no good if i reported this..



(done in the style of those dropped diaries/journals in games like resident evil)

gauge yourself on the morality spectrum
to phase into that retrospective mood
gathering "that fixity of thoughtfulness present in a child who has felt the pricks of life before his time"*
you will be alright.. my beautiful...
to hold myself guilty for your plight
and to write.. to engage myself in contemplation..
those words, they bleed.. in a crimson cry for absolution..


*i got that quote from Jude the Obscure

recently, Juramang in all eagerness, forwarded a friendster profile which was named 'anti MnMs'.. curious, i read through it and the plethora of bullshit testimonials(a feature of friendster) that was written, "in support" of this movement, to attack mats and minahs, even 'to be EXTERMINATED ' as a clearly enraged 'Syafiq' explicitly proposed. Impressed by the way they thought up their testimonials, the channeling of pure hate towards constructing "rhymes" with vacuous articulation of their angst. One particular chap going by the name of 'punkrocker' displayed aggressive resistance in allowing the 'MnMs' into their hoi polloi. Acting with the zeal that was present in an "overseer of everything cool" (and bagedel), he preached about the infiltration of these MnMs into the sacred dojo of manufactured cool as seen on MTV. According to him, they

'Steal our mohawks,
steal our studbelts,
They got no originality,
Trying to steal our style.

Now they go jamming,
I dont know wat they play.
They cant be playing techno,
cause that music is for gays.'

i was struck down by the impact of his "illest rhymes" because if destructive rancor was his left hand and calm, 'modernist'- influenced lyrical composition his right.. he was ambidextrous in delivery. I had no choice but to be swayed by his powerful words which reasonate deep within my soul like how you would feel stroking yourself while listening to Evanescence..

He had succeeded in making me his follower, with his tousled, shoulder length hair, somewhat Bohemian goatee and the electric guitar he lugged around while listening to Linkin Park's 'Papercut' on his mp3 player, he represented, to me.. the transcendence into maturity that will aid us in our "progressive society".

I learnt the art of acting cool and looking emo through him, until i realised that these people were all the same.. especially with the people they criticise..


I practised my 'muka emo' religiously


If the myriad of concepts or trends such as 'abang abang mod' and all this tappered crap were religions that people eagerly subscribe to, they would all be denominations of one particular faith = bullshit. The same kind of bullshit that u see when tae-kwon-do classes invade street soccer courts which are the only places kids can go to now they have installed nails at the void decks of flats to discourage soccer and ultimately ..FUN...


TOTALLY WAH PIANG EH!!!!

http://friendster.com/testimonials.php?uid=7957002 <--check it out here

With patriotic pride and pathfinding genius, I have come up with an idea that will take the world by storm.. Inspired by Zainal's lifelong obsession of trying to play grab-ass with David Yeng, the idea of butt apartments was born..
The idea is simple, create a butt(cheek) to act as living quarters for a single person, perfect for the bachelor/ hitchhiker/ student who lives far away from school(Khairul Azmas)
Using technology from the pokemon series where huge monsters can fit inside small fist-sized pokeballs, you can now fit inside a single butt-cheek! Its exciting because it has the potential to solve Singapore's land problems and provide "butt landlords" with additional income, contributing to the nation's economy(if enough butt landlords are allowed to lease out their butt apartments).


The Anatomy of a Butt Apartment


Butt tenants like my friend Khai would be elated in his acquisition of the first few butt apartments because it is a landmark in human history. Khai has chosen a butt landlord ( from a catalogue detailing apartment characteristics such as girth and water retention) who lives in Bukit Batok because his school is nearby.. Now Khai eliminates the time needed to travel tiring distances (from Bt Batok to Pasir Ris) in his daily routine, hours more to devote to his usual fun gym - going activities..

"I Swear by MY butt apartment... "

isnt this neoprint we took cute? hengggcute eh! best friends forever! take neo print together!!!

"diorang tak ingat tau hari akhirat
(eh kata members, sama sama ah menum todi dok)
takde adat sebab tak nak join dikir barat
(aku ngah buat kerja ngan chicks ah, jangan sibok!) "


look at the juxtaposition of their sinful indulgences with their pretentious self exaltations.. i just realised that i simply rock BYATCH!!! woah.. dizzying discovery...

To be enslaved by you...

weep for the illusioned faith
grab your AK-47 and join the angry mob
hide your inadequacies and keep them safe
present to them perverted truth

sneer at my maculate self
grown callused by constant natter
bespangled in sequinned hell
pretend to be in discourse with the mad hatter
just so i can avoid your bulshit


people are swayed towards popular consensus , make up something about me
to distract them from your inadequacies and insecurities.. Then you'll be happy...
then you'll get what you want.. right....

This girl ah like that one ah, good ah, and then hengcute ehh.. wah lau whey.. like that where can.. i very the jeles.. Wah piang! so chio one to the very max! haha never say cannot right? cannot chio mah? but not chio as me because we in the chio club in school! because i am baby chio(cos i more kawaii mah) and then she sporty chio(cos she a bit flat one)haha.. When she last time come to class, i thought she model liaozz.. wah but dunno la see how oso i got her now.. so like that can ah i like one.. She actually quite popular oso in school leh.. but now see who got her one? of course me la.. Wah lau still dunno..



*now add this to end with a bang*
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LOVE IS HERE!

(translate = im a superior motherfucker or at least i think i am and you guys deserve to rot under my feet because i got the hottest girl in school and you guys can kiss my shiny inflated ass! Im actually posting this testimonial for my own self-promotion so better read it twice or thrice!)


-although i deserve to be jabbed in the arm with an overdose of tranquilizer for posting this testimonial, you guys will love me for it cos its just so fucking sincere! Ke'ai eh!



Now one that will appeal to the rap freestyler/ religious zealot in you..

aku ngan dia dah lama berkawan
kita in the club beb!
group dikir lain tak boleh lawan
masok neraka lah diorang nyer nasib!

diorang tak ingat tau hari akhirat
(eh kata members, sama sama ah menum todi dok)
takde adat sebab tak nak join dikir barat
(aku ngah buat kerja ngan chicks ah, jangan sibok!)

wo wo! in the club! wo wo! check it out!
wo wo! diorang nak have fun je! wo wo! sapa nak preserve malay tradition cam kita?
wo wo wo wo wo!!!

To all my homies!!!!


Happy about the testimonial feature in Friendster.com, ive decided to write one or two that applies to everybody so i can just cut and paste.. anybody can if they want to really..

i knew a girl
she stole the stars
left the world bereft of hope
invaded by a pervasive anxiety of the future

all triumph over the past
fade away as feeble memories
constellations fed our mind with dreams
now decrepit, in misfortunate stasis

our aspirations die in a government basement
comply and affirm do not meander
we are all expendables, perishables
do not bother with my mental tempests
let the doleful hymns waft through the ash columns of my escapist sanctuary..

"Ill fade away into a mere cipher, transparent in this stratification of teen society"
what everybody is afraid of?

Ive always had this condition, so that rules out it being retribution, divine,karmic or otherwise. The condition being myasthenic, how all my life ive always wondered why i couldnt look at the world's beauty properly, how i couldnt experience the visual treats.. Ive always envied those with large eyes, wishing that i could just get a minute in to just look at life through those eyes.. i know how everybody always wished they were someone else, but i only wanted somebody else's eyes, for once being able to open my eyes fully and just look at stuff like a normal person would.. So i often retreated in my own escapist sanctuary, created through the written and drawn form of art.. The diagnosis revealed that a big part of the problem lies in my blood, i had too much antibodies.. As a result, they attacked and screwed up the chemical connections between the nerve and muscle.. Its funny to think that something thats supposed to help you can destroy you.. The glee i got from being exempted for most of the immunisation clinics like the BCG especially with the ominous several month-ed prelude to it was shortlived because its the same condition that will bother me endlessly through the years.. Being "over-protected" meant that i'd be less susceptible to illness and of course not needing the numerous immunisations, but it also caused sudden fatigue to my bodily muscles(sometimes being uncontrollable like the jaw hanging open) and the chronic eyelid dysfunction.. The diagnosis sounds like im some kind of homo sapien superior, but the effects made me feel sub-human..By the age of sixteen, i had grown blase to the somewhat omnipresent question of why i look sleepy all the time.. the psychologically painful condition was there all these years, it was just bearable, and now when it becomes this bad, my perpetual denial of being part of sub-human kind had to end as the doctor shoved reality into my face.. In the words of a myasthenic, "My mother always said the key to success in life was to open your eyes and keep your mouth shut, but now i cant even do both" a submerged destiny that has met with its tragic promise..

an example how it has degenerated me to a gollum-grade psycho..

«Ninguna mente extraordinaria está exenta de un toque de demencia»

volume maximum, validate this declaration
aristotlean logic for motivational provision
"no extraordinary mind is free of a touch of insanity"
but only the noble for heraldry
i bear arms only to police

turn to us who spout incomprehensible gibberish
exploit the masses by being rhetorically coquettish
then sic the moralist hordes upon us
play on the warped meaning of trust
berate us, for being artfully knavish
stop us! our nefarious schemes
accuse us, of sinister machinations
pigeonhole us with the demented abominations

turn away, never look to the ninja muscle
join dikir barat instead to be normal
philistines , society's cancer
plebeian disgrace, traitor to the supreme emperor

pseudo-righteous emblazonment on your faces
all just facades,hypocrisy and double-standards
ill kill you all, bring me my tommy gun
shoot holes in your alcoholic gullet
here mr feigned piousness, bite my heathen bullet!
just kidding, ill just burn your mother
oh its just as bad? but she looks like moses lim in drag
maybe just lather you till she kowtows to me and begs
hahaha.. sadistic fantasy, dont mind me..
ill morph back from my bestial form, dont worry...

Zaidon(an amalgamation of the names, Zainal and Zordon) celebrates in a cute or kawaii-giggling-japanese-schoolgirl kind of way as the zeo megazord triumphs over evil alien forces who possess superior space-age technology but communicate through the primitive act of squawking or the more popular keeping mum yet again.. While i (in yellow looking ruggedly-handsome in a pirate-ish sort of way) ponder over the next generation zord chassis designs to draw up.. to ensure the survival of earth and its inhabitants..


Zeo Megazord
When things get too tough for the Zeo Zords, they can combine and form the Zeo Megazord. Usually in warrior mode with the Zeo V battle helmet, the Zeo Megazord can wear the helmet of the other four Zeo Zords as well. The Zeo Megazord presumably remains in storage in the Zeo Zord holding bay.
source: http://www.rangercentral.com/prz-zd-zeo.htm

*just kidding, this photo was snapped at the recent platform4 rapping competition by a guy called freakyZ where zordon oops i mean zainal got into the grand finals.. hoorah..

Zordon
Being trapped in a time warp doesn't stop this wise old sage from fighting evil. He gathered together the Rangers and has guided them since day one in protecting the planet from aliens. Zordon sacrificed his life to destroy the evil forces attacking the universe in Power Rangers in Space.
source : http://www.rangercentral.com/prz-allies.htm

Zordon teaches us that possessing a dumb face in a holographic tube doesnt stop you from being famous.. You'd have fans making an anthology of your epigrams and dressing up as you during halloween.. Floppy haired tweenagers would strain their throats to mimic your deep-droning voice dripping in machismo to impress their buck-toothed girl friends.. Growing up idolising zordon means that my scrotum takes after him.. and i envy it/him/her for that.. for once.. i'd like to be bald, grey(sometimes a pale shade of blue), transmitting my suspiciously gay face onto a holographic tube and become an overlord to the power rangers where the fate of humanity rests upon my holographic scrotum thats bundled up in a holographic sock.. kinda like Zainal's day job..


Shes just here to entertain.. or would you rather one more pic of Zordon?


and now to prove that i dont look like zordon...


... and how zainal does...

I ran into the bathroom cubicle expecting to take a piss when i heard some mumbling.. "menyek menyek menyek" i thought some giggling teenage schoolgirl had smuggled herself in since their vocabulary was the same.. what with their much emphasised about self-discovery and in the process realising that their names are actually abbreviated from something like Judiee-Pooziee(which would be some form of declaration that "im-so-cute-cos-i-bastardise-my-name-teehee").. back to the cubicle... i couldnt find the schoolgirl who i assumed would have most probably have been attracted by my ruggedly-handsome charms.. so i unzipped my pants, ignoring the menyek-menyeks and found the source of the mumblings.. my buah pley(scrotum) was trying to talk to me.. in a deep, sensual but not too sultry kind of voice(kind of like a cross between ruben studdard and zordon from power rangers), he just wanted to say hi and had come up with a theory to why ive been afflicted by the accursed condition.. It would most probably been divine intervention since i was getting too cool for my own good.. thereby upsetting the coolness equilibrium in the world.. I gasped at the inequity.. i pitied the rest of humankind for not being as cool as me.. The unequal distribution of cool suddenly became apparent.. The bestowed coolness on the ninja muscle... and the disparity between us and the commonfolk was great.. too great.. and it was still growing.. I thanked my buah pley and did manage to talk for a bit, went on a few dates and eventually he gave me that "we are more than friends but less than a couple".. to which i gave him an uppercut of "talk to the hand.. you go girl!" and topped it off with a roundhouse kick of "we girls dont need men!".. I emerged out of the cubicle an "independent woman, biatch!!!".. then i realised.. this story is totally cool.. to the point that people would draw faces on their scrotums with markers to pretend they could talk with it just so they can tell a similar story.. woah..

Rock Star Syndrome?
..and then i entered the arab-themed cafe holding hands with my male partner(Zainal) just to see some kind of reaction from the other patrons.. We sniggered discreetly as we continued the act till the point we sat at our table.. With all eyes firmly on us, a chuckle escaped as i tried to bring it further by pretending to passionately make out.. We burst out laughing in front of the bewildered crowd, amused by our antics although i caught a few furrowed eyebrows.. We grinned like monkeys, did a 360 degree rotating move while humming techno tunes, spontaneously conjured up and threw in lyrics in some foreign language to boot..
Then we nearly fell into a conversational rut till i brought up the question of why we acted this way.. always.. how we dont follow the prescript of acceptable conduct and are attention seekers of the worst kind.. how we behave not to look cool/sachok/berg but just to annoy and get some sort of reaction from people.. then get addicted to it..
We concurred that it must be some kind of syndrome and then proceeded to name it the Rock Star Syndrome primarily to make it sound as cool as possible.. To name it that based on the fact that we do not display the conventional decorum that would be most socially acceptable.. The only diference being that we shy away from the shindigs and alcohol indulgences although we do have a stable of groupies at our beck and call.. haha.. woo..
We noticed a collective of individuals at the opposite table clearly unamused by our behaviour.. Their facial expressions said a thousand words, using my talent for reading facial expressions i managed to discern some sort of meaning to all of them.. It was something like.. 'Dont these guys abide to the unsaid but understood ordinance of "jangan malukan nama melayu"? Look at us.. we are exemplary models of our race, we wouldnt look foreign in the cast of Bara! Hmmph! Im in half a mind to berate them for their childish actions! They should act their age, like us! Right now lets just frown furiously at them and hope they get what we're trying to say! Everybody now!*Frowns*"
The barrage of passive disapproval made us grin wider as we rotated in our locked cross-legged positions to face them while smoking sheesha.. At this point of time, i noticed Zainal doing what he liked to do most, stroking himself.. which drew sighs of relief from the Bara group, cos at last, we did something they indulge heavily in.. So i kinda admired Zainal more after that, since i found out his idea of an introduction was, 'Hi, i like to stroke myself.. Can i be your friend?' At last i found out the real meaning of life, the reason for human existence, the noble drive to please everybody else but yourself(cept for the wanking part) through joining dikir barat, emulating a blatantly fake potrayal of polytechnic life from a drama series on TV and waiting for the day we die so we can realise all of this, then groan as some kind of lamentation when our hearts beat for the last time.. in all my uncouthly glory, ill have to say this to you..

like waves, death washes away creases in the sand
all the sandcastles tt we've built topple
all the holes tt we've dug to hide in are filled in
forget the ball-sucking past and smile at the necromancer that decides to interrogate the dead