The Neverending Story

I was an early reader. I was taught to read pretty early in life, and having a father who was still a student when he had me, made me a very early student too. My father did not have time to be a full time father, but he tried nevertheless, because I was a very clingy child. I followed him to the library more than I could count for his study sessions.

He couldn’t talk to me in the library, but a child’s mind is a simple thing. Every children wants to be close to their parents… that gives them the sense of security, and back then, even when my father couldn’t play with me or talk to me loudly, I still wanted to tag along to the library with him.

I could still remember that I will sit at one of the old, rickety sofa, in which a librarian would kindly provide me a pillow to prop myself with each time I visit, and read some books while waiting for my father to finish his assignments.

I was a child who was easily fascinated. I think every little children are easily fascinated and dreamed of an adventure in a fantasy land where they’re the hero and whatever they do could determine the fate of the world.

There was a book in particular that I could read over and over again during my visit to the library.

It’s called… The Neverending Story. Written by Michael Ende. (Yes… the book was adapted into a movie. I am talking about THAT Neverending Story). In truth, it was a German tale. The original title for The Neverending Story is ‘Die Unendliche Geschichte’. But the book spin a tale that is so great, that it was translated into many languages for the enjoyment of every single little person who crave for escapism and adventure.

The majority of the story takes place in the parallel world of Fantastica a world being destroyed by the Nothing, which represents and constitutes people’s lack of imagination in the real world.

The first protagonist is a young warrior, who is asked by the Steward of The Empress of Fantastica, to set off and find a way to stop The Nothing. The other protagonist is a boy from the real world, a reader of the novel with the same title, for whom the story gradually becomes more and more realistic.

The story starts off with Bastian who is  sorely neglected by his father and is bullied by his schoolmates. While running from some of them, Bastian bursts into the antique book store.

He picked up the book and examined it from all sides. It was bound in copper-colored silk that shimmered when he moved it about. Leafing through the pages, he saw the book was printed in two colors. There seemed to be no pictures, but there were large, beautiful capital letters at the beginning of the chapters. Examining the binding more closely, he discovered two snakes on it, one light and one dark. They were biting each other’s tail, so forming an oval. And inside the oval, in strangely intricate letters, he saw the title:

The Neverending Story

He can’t buy it, and so he steals the book, hides himself away in the attic of his own school, and settles down to read the same story that we are reading: The Neverending Story.

We’re then transported into the realm of Fantastica, where things are going badly wrong. The realm is being swallowed up, slowly but surely, by advancing puddles of nothingness. The diverse inhabitants of Fantastica send out messengers to their Childlike Empress who lives in the Ivory Tower to see if she can help or advise. Alas, she cannot, it seems, because she is also dying from a mysterious illness. She can only be cured if a human will visit Fantastica and endow her with a new name.

The stage is set. The Childlike Empress sends her hero, a boy named Atreyu, out on a mission to search for just such a human. Atreyu’s task is a difficult one. In fact, he must launch himself off on such a wild and demanding and absorbing adventure that he succeeds in drawing the reader, Bastian Balthazar Bux, back into the realm of Fantastica! But Atreyu does succeed, and Bastian is delighted to find himself suddenly transported into Fantastica.

You might think that that is the end of the story, but in fact it is just the beginning. Because, once there, Bastian Balthazar Bux has such a marvelous time that he does not want to leave. And in the end, he finds that he very nearly can’t leave. He needs all the help he can get from his friends in Fantastica.

Absolutely good read. A book that every child should have the privilege to read. i find it hard to obtain a cheap version of this book, and therefore, I opt for a pdf. copy of this book instead.

Now, if you crave for escapism and a book worthy of your attention this coming weekend, kindly email me for a .pdf copy of this book at cleffairy@gmail.com. If you want to hold the book in your hand, however, kindly head over to your nearest book store, and see if they have this precious book on their shelf.

Cleffairy: If you stop to think about it, you’ll have to admit that all the stories in the world consist essentially of twenty-six letters. The letters are always the same, only the arrangement varies. From letters words are formed, from words sentences, from sentences chapters, and from chapters stories.

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La mujer en espejo

No… this won’t be in Spanish nor will I be talking about a telenovella of the same name.

I am 26. Officially 26 today, and it amazed me on how different I am today from the yesteryears. How I have changed, and I see the world in different lights too. I never failed to feel amaze each time I look into the mirror… how I have grown, how different I look, and how strange and unrecognizable I am to myself.

I was that little girl. A little girl who had many dreams and wanted many things in her life.

That girl in the picture was 3. And yet, she knew what she wanted, and never failed to get whatever she wants.

But she didn’t get everything that she wanted.

She wanted:

1) She wanted to be a doctor, but she became a reporter instead. And later in life, she decided that freelancing and being a writer is more fulfilling. She wanted to save lives, but all she could do now is just try to touch people’s heart with her words, in hopes, it saves lives.

2) She wanted to get married on her 26th birthday (that’s today) but she took many wrong turns, and instead of getting married on her 26th birthday, she gets to laze around on her 26th birthday, getting her tummy filled with yummy food instead of worrying how she’d look like in her wedding dress and pray that her wedding would be perfect.

3) She was fair and was afraid of sunlight and wanted to only stay at home with her mummy and daddy, and refused to go out of the house unless with umbrella, but how brave she have become these days. She loves to frolics in the sun, and gets herself tan while swimming.

4) She wanted to marry a doctor. She likes men with stethoscope around their necks, and wears specs. She likes people who saves lives, decent and highly intelligent, just like her daddy, but she ended up with someone who is not a doctor instead and have a perfect vision and does not need to wear specs.

5) She wanted a daughter, who looks just like like her, and as willful as her when she was a little girl, but that is not going to happen anytime soon.

6) She wanted to be able to dance with her grandfather on every single birthdays of her life, but she can never dance with her grandfather again. Her grandfather is so far away, and he couldn’t dance anymore these days. He claimed he’s too old for dancing.

7) She wanted to travel the world. But she got stuck at her desk writing about it instead.

8) She wanted to have a child whom she could talk to, but she found children very hard to relate to. Sometimes, reasoning does not work.

9) She wanted to be smart, but in many ways, she grew up to be rather foolish.

10) She wanted a quiet, peaceful life free of danger, but thank God she didn’t get that, because if she did, she would be such a bore!

Every time… every time, I looked into the mirror and the reflection looks back at me, I feel strange and different. Life did not turn out the way I wanted. It is not always kind to me, but my life is exciting nevertheless. God blessed me with many things in life that I did not expect to be blessed with. I have wonderful friends and a family with me. What else could I asked for? I guess I can happily say… nothing. I want nothing else.


Cleffairy: Okay I lied. I’ll be honest. I wanna be rich so that I can go on a cruise around the world or something and sip some exotic juice as I lay under the sun!

ps: Thank you, God, for guiding me and being there for me for 26 years. I would have been lost without you.

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Early birthday pressie…

My birthday is still quite far away. Sept 2. But I already received a birthday pressie… from Smallkucing and his Mamarazzi the last time I met both of them in… uh… our usual haunting place. 😀

Smallkucing’s Mamarazzi made me a pretty batik bag for my upcoming birthday. I like it very much and used it as a bag that I use to bring my stuff to the poolside when I go for a swim. (She not only gave me a pretty batik bag, but she also fed me with loads of nice food…unfortunately, all of them are gone now… I forgot to snap picture! LOL)

See… nice, isn’t it?

Here’s a clearer picture of the handmade batik bag…

A pretty bag, sewn with a lot of love and patience. Want this kind of bag? Well, dream on. Hahahahah. LOL. Mamarazzi told me she’s retiring from sewing, and won’t be making anymore of this… and she’s not going to sell her artwork too. LOL…

Thank you, Smallkucing and Mamarazzi. I love the bag so much, and it’s a very special birthday present because this is one bag that not even money can buy. Better than LV and Coach. 😛

Cleffairy: The best thing in the world can’t be bought, won’t you agree on that with me?

ps: Paparazzi, Smallkucing’s father on the other hand, gave me uh… some sort of… drink that I’m not sure if it’s appropriate to mention here for my upcoming birthday…considering a lot of you are faint hearted and highly imaginative. LMAO. Big Bird gave Little Bird a very exotic drink… so Little Bird says thank you very much for that too. LMAO.

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Miracles happen

I never really did consider myself a blogger. I prefer to be known as an author, a writer and a reporter. Because if being a blogger means that you write an article or two everyday and receiving feedback for it, then I could have been a blogger since 1999, because I started to write faithfully, devotedly and oh so passionately that year.

I wrote for various websites, submitting my fictional stories, and I get feedbacks for that, and the feedbacks that I get for my stories are way more than I get when I… ‘blog’. Comments came in hundreds per day, and I had troubles replying to each and every one of them. Unlike blogging that’s pretty much Malaysianized, my fictions were international. I had friends from all corners of the world.

And I not only get feedback and comments… I earned loads of brownie points too through my fictions. I had fans who admired me for my creativity, my quirks and my hopelessly romantic stories.

I had loads of fans, whom I upgraded their status into my personal friends begging me to continue writing when I decided to officially go on hiatus in May 2002 so that I could concentrate in pursuing my studies. It was not an easy decision… to go on hiatus because writing has always been a part of me, and it was slowly killing me inside that I could not tell stories anymore.

You see, I actually feel as if I’ll go senile if I didn’t write. It must be the Tun Dr. M syndrome. Can’t keep still and can’t stop being sarcastic…. and can’t stop writing. 😀

I kept in touch with most of these fans turned friends during my hiatus, and I am so proud to say that even though I stopped writing, they did not stop loving me for who I am. They became good friends, though I have yet to meet them in real life.

As of late, I discovered that one of the sites that I wrote for back in 1999-2002 was down indefinitely and there is no sign that the database would be recovered. I didn’t know what to feel. There’s a lot of my exclusive masterpiece being stored in that site that I didn’t backup for soft copies.

Do you know what that means? That means…I lost a lot of my masterpiece dating from 1999-2002. And I can tell you, that is a lot. I was really sad, almost inconsolable, even. I didn’t know to whom I should talk to. How many of you out here would understand how I feel anyway? You folks didn’t know me during the time I was an online author. You folks came to know me as Cleffairy, a blogger, not an author with another pseudonym.You folks… did not know my history, because I re-started my career as an author under another pseudonym.

I didn’t know to whom should I tell that I feel like a huge chunk of my life had disappeared to oblivion with that news… all because of those exclusive works.

And then, something miraculous happened. A friend of 10 years… whom have been following my writing since I started to publish my works online on various site appeared in my gtalk, and told me she kept copies of my work and would forward to me for safekeeping when she heard of the site closure.

She kept soft copies and hard copies. My jaw dropped. I never knew that someone liked my writing to be bothered enough to print it out.

I never considered my old writings worth to be published. They’re immature, and is infested with errors. That is the reason why I didn’t bother to uh… keep soft copies of it before the site was down indefinitely. *sigh* I’m nuts, aren’t I? I don’t miss certain things til they’re gone, and thank God for the little miracle that he showed me.


Cleffairy: Moral of the story: Back up, folks, back up… you’ll never know when your bloody PC will goes berserk on you and you loose years worth of data!

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How can you mend a broken heart?

I made 3 phone calls today. One to my aunt, one to my mother, and another to my father. 2 of the phone calls made me feel so horrible, causing me to make another phone call. 🙁 Guess whom was the last one I called just to make myself feel better again? *sigh*

Yes, that’s right. The last phone call was to my father. Why? Cuz both my aunt and my mum kinda make me feel bad inside to the point that I feel like I wanna throw up!

I feel like crying. I wanted to cry, but I won’t let myself. I won’t allow myself to be wallowed by self pity and self-disgust…. especially when my bloody other half is being nonchalant about this freaking issue. Maybe I should just take up shooting and shoot something to vent my frustration. 🙁 I feel so trapped and abused. Yes, that’s right. Abused. And also used… and also unappreciated… and the list goes on!

To cut the long story short… I made a phone call to my aunt, who is just 1 year older than me, to congratulate her on being pregnant. Then all the bloody nonsense when I’m going to have a baby and blah blah blah started. I was really happy, truly, that she’s being pregnant and all… but does she have to ask me a lot of personal questions that I don’t feel like answering?

*sigh* I avoided her question like a plague, and and made a promise that I don’t really tend to keep, which is to… uh… visit her when she finally give birth… cuz I kinda hate being around relatives who loves to get on my nerves by asking me personal questions and those showing off and stuff.

You see… I’m not really successful in life, and I wonder if I ever will be. I am not rich, and I don’t exactly reproduce like some sort of a pig either… so yeah… you get the picture, why I don’t like to be around relatives. They simply poke their noses in places that they’re not supposed to.

After successfully ending the conversation with my oblivious Aunt, I called my mother, whom I haven’t talk to for quite some time now. You know… call her just to ask if she’s all right and whatnot. BIG MISTAKE.

Of course she’s all right. She’s always all right. She almost NEVER fall sick. 🙁 Not that I’m saying I wish that she gets sick… I’m just saying that sometimes, I feel really uncomfortable talking to her, because she likes to… uh… gossip, and… like those people in my life… she loves to… compare me with others, even when I’m all grown up. I can’t relate to her, and she doesn’t understand me. She loves to socialize with relatives, much to my chagrin.

She loves going to the weddings, baby showers and funeral( Good Lord… I don’t know if anybody can enjoy a funeral, but obviously, my mother can). Fine. She likes family occasion. That is none of my business. But I don’t feel comfortable at all when she tells me how big their weddings are, and how wonderful their baby showers are…she always says them in a tone that’s hinting me something, and I loathe it so, so much.

Why can’t she just let me off, and leave me alone? I am not interested in joining her and make a court jester out of myself at these family occasions.

I never failed to feel bad each time my mother talked to me about those stuff. Talking… is still tolerable… why can’t she understand that I have no interest in taking part in those things that she’s so fond of? 🙁

I’m not interested to go to relatives’ wedding. I don’t want to go to relatives’ baby showers… and I don’t want to go to funeral too. Why? Because people just won’t mind their own business and ask ME personal question that I considered as invasion of privacy!

It is sooooooooo difficult. No offense… but I kinda hate female relatives and outlaws who are in their 50s. I can’t relate to them, and they’re pretty…what’s the word? OBNOXIOUS.

I felt sooo sooo bad, and knowing that my husband would brush me off when I talk about these stuff…you know… relatives’ wedding, baby showers and whatnot…my husband is never interested in listening to such things and so I called up THE ONLY PERSON who WILL ALWAYS listened to me, regardless of how silly I may sound- MY FATHER.

I called him up, and he was still at work. He told me that he was in front of the PC, finishing up some work, and so I told him that I will call back later when he’s not busy, but thank God he said that it’s all right and refused to let me hang up.

He asked me if I’m all right. And of course…I kinda lied him. I told him I’m fine, just a bit stressed about work and whatnot. The usual. He must be sensing that I’m upset… cuz he asked if I’m feeling well. So I told him… I don’t know if I’m feeling well… I’m feeling feverish… must be the weather and I just call to hear his voice and to ask if he’s doing okay.

But my father knew me very well and bombed me. “Did you happen to call your mother?” he asked.

I broke down at this point. I said yes, and I blahs to him, telling him that my mother had been at it again, asking me to go to places I don’t want to and telling me who and who is getting married, and who and who is having baby showers, and who and who is so pretty and practically glowing… and also about so and so who is just promoted and whatnot.

I told him I don’t want to go back to those family occasions… because I feel that no matter how successful I am in life… people would still judge me on how well-married I am and how many pooping and wailing brats I have~!  And people are more interested in how many times I get laid a week more than what I’ve worked so hard to build! It sickens me to the very core. 🙁

While other people in my life would have probably reprimand me for being so reserved and refused to socialize with gossiping bimbos at this point, my father didn’t accuse me of that. He listened sympathetically and told me that he didn’t fancy family occasion too, and if I don’t want to, I don’t have to go back and face those people who doesn’t mind their own business.

I told him that I missed him. And the only reason why I wanted to go back for the holidays is just because I wanted to see him. 🙁 Even if people around me hurt me badly and made me feel inferior with their words, I still want to see him and have a good time together. I missed talking to him, I missed being understood and I especially missed being taken seriously.

I heard clicks of the keyboard at this point. And after a few seconds… my father told me…that perhaps, he could make some arrangements and come to visit me instead… he didn’t promise me… he said he would try to make arrangements to visit me instead.

And you know what? That alone makes me feel a lot better, even if he can’t manage to come and visit me during the holidays. Those words… those words alone made me feel loved, protected and and cherished. Those words made me feel important too. And… for now, those are enough for me. Even if he can’t manage to come and visit me… I feel better already… with just his words…my father… he made me feel better… by just listening and assuring me that he loves me regardless of how people think of me.

Cleffairy: Breathing is difficult, especially when people are trying their best to suffocate you. And here’s ‘How Can You Mend a Broken Heart’ by Bee Gees.



How Can You Mend A Broken Heart

I can think of younger days when living for my life
Was everything a man could want to do.
I could never see tomorrow, but I was never told about the sorrow.

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend a this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.

I can still feel the breeze that rustles through the trees
And misty memories do days gone by
We could never see tomorrow, noone said a word about the sorrow.

And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go round?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.

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Don’t cry Joni…

Have you ever want something or someone to love you so badly, but the love is unrequited? You gave all of your heart to that person, but your love is unreturned?

You love them, and waited for them with all of the devotion that you have… you wait and wait, and nothing happens, and then, one day… you stopped hoping, though you continued loving.

Time passes by. You stopped wanting anymore. You feel numb, you’re hurting inside and you desperately need to move on, and decided that it’s all right. It doesn’t matter anymore. If the person you love doesn’t return your feelings, you think that it’s time to let someone else… someone else who have been waiting for you to let you into their life for almost as long as you wait for the one you love to return your feelings.

It won’t be the same… to just receive love…but it would have been better that way, won’t it? You can try loving the one who love you, though you have no feelings for that person.

And then…the thing you have been waiting for happened. The person you loved… started to see something in you, and started to return your feelings. But it’s too late now…you fell in love with another, because ‘the other person’ whom was never your first choice is now the love of your love, and means everything to you.

Have you ever felt that way… how funny and ironic love is? Have you… ever felt like Joni…feel that one day, you’ll stop hoping and move on, because you can’t wait forever, and life goes on?

DON’T CRY JONI

(Conway Twitty)

Conway Twitty & Joni Lee – 1975

Margo & Daniel O’Donnell – 2006

Joni was the girl who lived next door

I’ve known her, I guess, ten years or more

Joni wrote me a note one day

And this is what she had to say

(JONI:)

(Jimmy, please say you’ll wait for me)

(I’ll grow up someday you’ll see)

(Saving all my kisses just for you)

(Signed with love forever true)

Slowly I read her note once more

I went over to the house next door

Her teardrops fell like rain that day

When I told Joni what I had to say

Joni, Joni please don’t cry

You’ll forget me by and by

You’re just fifteen, I’m twenty-two

And Joni, I just can’t wait for you

Soon I left our little home town

Got me a job and tried to settle down

But those words kept haunting my memory

The words that Joni wrote to me

(JONI:)

(Jimmy, please say you’ll wait for me)

(I’ll grow up someday you’ll see)

(Saving all my kisses just for you)

(Signed with love forever true)

I packed my clothes and I caught a plane

I had to see Joni, I had to explain

How my heart was filled with her memory

And ask my Joni if she’d marry me

I ran all the way to the house next door

But things weren’t like they were before

My teardrops fell like rain that day

When I heard what Joni had to say

(JONI:)

(Jimmy, Jimmy please don’t cry)

(You’ll forget me by and by)

(It’s been five years since you’ve been gone)

(And Jimmy, I married your best friend John)

Don’t Cry Joni is a very old song, and I used to sing this with my father when I was just a little girl. Thinking back… I wonder if he’s trying to teach me about how love doesn’t always turn out the way we wanted them to, and there’s always surprises when it comes to love?


Cleffairy: Jimmy, Jimmy please don’t cry. You’ll forget me by and by. It’s been five years since you’ve been gone. And Jimmy I married your best friend John.


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Super service by Eoe online

Disclaimer: THIS IS NOT A PAID REVIEW

Remember my review on Eoe Online?  The online photo company that takes photo printing orders online and deliver it to your doorstep? Well… I’ve received my 50 4R and 2 8R photos from them, along with two photo albums. 😀

And I was really surprised with their efficient service. And through my correspondence with their staff via email, they are professional and friendly too.

They really did a good job. Eoe Online processed my photos really fast and had it delivered to me via courier service known as Skynet within 1 working day. Amazing. Initially I expected them to take at least 3 days to process my order. It was really a surprise to receive the photos this morning. I highly recommend Eoe Online to those people who are busy and not good at waiting. 😀

Currently they are having this promotion.

RM0.30 per 4R print and RM0.50 per 5R print with FREE free delivery for orders above RM35.00

Quality wise is good too. The photos comes out really clear. Only a few came out blurred, and that’s not even their fault, as the original photos are already blurred.

Take a look at the pictures below. They’re from Eoe Online. 😀 Can you recognize who is the subject of the photos? 😀

Well, that cute little boy is my… ahem… my unofficial Over A Cuppa Tea model. And his mum is my uh…. unofficial photographer.

And below is my cat’s picture. LOL…

Why didn’t I put my own photos here? Well… I am not photogenic and I am not special, as many would have me believe. It’s a waste of people’s time and effort to snap my pictures.

I’m… graphically speaking I’m a challenge, and people are better off elsewhere instead of helping me snap my pictures as my pictures will usually turn out really ugly and not nice. My face would ruin group photos too, I believe… so I’ll just spare you folks from looking at this fairy with the face of a Medusa.


Cleffairy: How many out there wants me out of the picture? I think it’ll make your pictures a lot prettier, considering how ugly and awful I am.

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Who would be…

Who would be, on your death notification list when you expires? I mean…if you’re to die or something, you wouldn’t want your dead body to rot somewhere in the middle of nowhere or in the morgue’s refrigerator for that matter. You would want to be buried, cremated, mummified… or something wouldn’t you? And you can’t possibly be doing all of those things to yourself when you’re dead, can you?

Have you ever thought… who would be writing your obituary? Who would be celebrating your life when you’re gone? Who would remember you when you’re six feet under? Who would inherit your stuff… etc etc etc.

Who would be on your death notification list if you’re to expired? My list would probably look like the one below:

1. My next kin… you know… the usual… the husband…if he’s still living when I died, that is… my parents( if they don’t die before me), my brat(s) (if they survived me when I died)sister, cousins, bla bla bla.

2. My insurance agent, the casket company…the gravedigger…

3. My friends in the newspaper…so that they could write flattering obituary for me for free.

4. My friends…. though I don’t quite see the point of upsetting my good friends for being expired.

5. My enemies (well, they ought to be forewarned that I’ll come back to haunt the for the things that they did to me when I was still alive)

Sigh… what the hell… just 5 kind of people on my list. What the hell…so less people in my life?I wonder if I’ll be forgotten within 7 days of my death.  I’m so insignificant. I wonder, who would be on your list if you’re to expire? More than me, I hope.


Cleffairy: I’m making a list, I’m checking it twice… to see who have been naughty and nice….you better not cry, you better not pout, cuz the Hungry Ghosts are coming, to town~!

ps: Did you know? Even a broken clock is right twice a day.

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Santa, can you hear me?

Don’t even ask if I’m all right. I am a mad, always angry, lunatic fairy. I’m not sweet and docile, likeable, normal person. Since when I’m all right and normal, anyway? The world drives me crazy, and the only thing one, hyper 25 years old girl could do on a perfectly good, sunny Sunday when she’s all locked up staring at the four white walls of her damn prison other people told her it’s her home can do was think about Christmas, Santa, and Superman. (Yes, Superman again… what’s with me and Superman, anyway? I got to do a case study on myself soon! I’m practically crazy!)

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK. It’s just 4:23PM, 8th August 2010, Sunday

*groan* It’s not even November yet (which saddens me, cuz it’s not NaNoWriMo yet, and I don’t have a bunch of authors going crazy on a literary rampage with me) and I found myself thinking about Christmas already. Been looking up for Christmas songs and having the urge to greet people Merry Christmas and eating Christmas dishes. You know… the roasted chicken or turkeys, the pastas, the pastries, with a partridge on the Christmas tree. Must be the potluck withdrawal I’m having. 🙁

Oh, jolly… I finally lost it~! I think I can hear someone out there telling me to go and join those loon of Elvis and Micheal Jackson in the asylum. I need a horseback riding theraphy…. a few good games of bowling…and a few bloody round of archery, but the closest thing I can get to those damn therapy is just to ‘live’ them through my novel characters- a novel that I have yet to find the momentum to write again. Oh, that’s just so pathetic. 🙁 Muse, Muse, please come back to me. I need you, desperately. Inspire me again so that my readers over here will be spared from my lunacy.

My life sucks. I can almost see myself being bound and chained. Bloody shits, stinking pee, you name it! 🙁 A complete waste of my already goddamn short life.

Santa, can you hear me? I want to go flying all night long and travel the world. I don’t want to die, trapped in this damn shit-hole… where all I did was stay in front of the PC slaving away to earn measly bits day in, day out. I want to leave a legacy! THIS is not the life I wanted. It’s not what I imagined myself to be 10 bloody years ago! I imagined myself to be a doctor… or a journalist traveling the world, sampling what the world could offer me. Argh…. free me, somebody! SOOOOOOOOO DAMMMMMNNNN BORRRRRREEEEDDD!

Santa, can you hear me? I have been so good this year…I have yet to murder people who stepped on my tail… all I want for Christmas this year is a goddamn break from this damn prison. I want to go to the beach…collect seashells, go fishing, riding the horse for a stroll along the beach and swim and eat seafood at some fisherman village til I got sick with allergy!

Santa can you hear me? Next month would be my bloody birthday. Ohhh…good, say you? Oh, geez… I’ll be grateful enough if people even remember it this year and nobody screw it up for me again. Could you send some of your Terminator Elf for me to use? In case it’s like last year again? I would be eternally grateful if you would.

Santa, can you hear me? I’ve been soooooo good this year. I have yet to seek revenge and return the favour to those who made my life miserable and made me suffer for things that’s not even my freaking fault in the first place. (Yadda, yadda… who can tolerate being the receiver of people’s emotional tantrums anyway? I bet you can’t too)  So, Santa, can you make sure that my life won’t be so boring next year?

I need to live my life, talk with people instead of just listening to what people want to do and having a one sided conversation resulting me to zone out every now and then. That makes me feel brain-dead, you know? *SIGH* Where the hell is those jerks of boys when I need them most? The tease me, but at least they cheer me up. 🙁 They don’t bore me.

Santa can you hear me? All I want for Christmas this year… is just an exciting life that doesn’t confine me into just staying at home, day in day out. Can you put it underneath my Christmas tree for me? Oh please, Santa, make my wish come true. I’ll be waiting here, and that’s my only wish this year. 😀

Cleffairy: When Clark Kent disappear or don’t keep his promises, I know he have a very good reason. He’s out saving the world as Superman. Others… don’t break promises or stood me up because they’re out there somewhere, busy being Superman and saving the world!

Note: Wrote this not so agreeable article with 825 words within 8 minutes. That a new record. So… anyone for a word sprint? 😀

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Captured by Grace

Feeling low in spirit as of late, and desperately needing a superhero, a savior to rescue me and tell me that everything will be all right, I was captivated and mesmerized by this beautiful book by Dr. David Jeremiah.

Entitled: Captured by Grace

And with the subtitle that caught my heart… No One is Beyond the Reach of a Loving God. The first time I saw this book, I knew that I must have this book.

This whole book is an absolute comfort and encouragement to the believer in many ways.

The underlying theme of this book is grace but once you read this book you will “see” much more of God’s love for you and that He provided the gift of grace so that you might have a rich and true life in Him, and to be captured by His grace.

The author points out that we are saved by grace through the selfless acts of Jesus our savior and we are filled by the Holy Spirit and become an entity ,a sacred temple of the Spirit of God.

Sometimes we all lost the purpose of life, we find that our world is shattering and the whole world is against us. And we find it hard to continue going on. If you struggle with your life or have an inner crisis this is a great book to call upon our hero, God, and be captured by His grace and believe once more, that whatever happens…He shall take care of us without fail, in His own majestic way, beyond human comprehension.

For the first time, this is a 5 star, spiritual read for me. Food for the soul. Absolutely recommended for those who are in low in spirit, and in need of comfort from up above, and those who need to believe again.

I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their Booksneeze bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review and therefore, the book review is 100% my own opinion.

Cleffairy: Count it all joy when you fall into various trials knowing that the testing of your faith develops patience. But let patience have its’ perfect work, that you might be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. (James 1:2-4)

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