Alien Landscape
Song #37 A Sky For Shoeing Horses Under
09:58 AM, Monday, May 12, 2008
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I know how this feels like. Walking home, feeling incredibly inspired but blocked. Images pounding in your head, words scratching the inside of your mouth, fugitive thoughts in your heart, ache in your hands. High on life, high on the idea of death. Your surroundings magnified, multiplied. Then when you look to the sky, it looks like a perfect one for shoeing horses under. Euphoric and depressing at the same time. Iridescently dreamy. Things you think of start making sense because it is random and finally truthful.
If you understand, if you even like this song, really do enjoy looping this in your head, we might be soulmates. Might. As in might have six hour long phone conversations and be brave enough to laugh at ourselves. That kind of thing.
A Sky For Shoeing Horses Under
by Why?
Rain goes perfect with a nosdam mixtape
The last streetlights stay on well after dawn
Kings fall to pawns he dropped the needle let the song say it
The kind of morgue with a gong to tell you when
But the room's rules will bend and the staff will make you laugh
My dad wore this face in old photographs
Calico cats outstare me from behind a junkyard fence
High on khat I let my stare go soft but pretend it's not
When I'm eyed I tongue my bottom teeth
And look at the sidewalk in front of me
And my tennis shoes go in and out of the frame
Another sleuth footed empty Y
Walking on goose eggs in the mission
Swap meet brown 31 fishnet hat cocked to the right
I only played chess once in my life and I lost
Looks like a sky for shoeing horses under
Looks like a good sky to die under
Rajas Ijau, Biru, Ungu and Kuning
02:48 PM, Saturday, May 10, 2008
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I spent most of yesterday brainstorming for my new, yet untitled comic. The plot was pretty much laid out. I am ambitious enough to follow the Narnian way of story telling. To start from the very birth of a world and ending with the death of it. The protagonist, of course, will be Melayu, which is why I have been reading up on Malays before they became drug addicted degenerates. I know this is an outrageous sweeping generalisation but I can't help it. Anyway, I was surprised at what I dug up about Malays. Anthropologist, Johann Blumenbach classified the human race into four categories (though this was rejected): Caucasian (white), Ethiopian (black), Native American (red) and Mongolian (yellow). In 1765, he added another subcategory of Ethiopian and Mongolian, which is Malay. He described the Malay race as,
"...Tawny-coloured; hair black, soft, curly, thick and plentiful; head moderately narrowed; forehead slightly swelling; nose full, rather wide, as it were diffuse, end thick; mouth large. upper jaw somewhat prominent with the parts of the face when seen in profile, sufficiently prominent and distinct from each other. This last variety includes the islanders of the Pacific Ocean, together with the inhabitants of the Marianne, the Philippine, the Molucca and the Sunda Islands, and of the Malayan peninsula. I wish to call it the Malay, because the majority of the men of this variety, especially those who inhabit the Indian islands close to the Malacca peninsula, as well as the Sandwich, the Society, and the Friendly Islanders, and also the Malambi of Madagascar down to the inhabitants of Easter Island, use the Malay idiom."
At this point, I was deeply fascinated. Then again, Malay being a race was rejected. It was Sir Stamford Raffles himself, who pushed Malay, not just as an ethnic group or a nation, but a race in a world of the English, during the English Romantic Movement.
This was during modern times and I couldn't find anything glorious on the Malays. I continued reading and to my delight, I stumbled upon the Queens of Pattani, daughters of Sultan Manzur Syah in 1572.
It is such an enchanting political story about the Rajas Ijau, Biru and Ungu, and also Biru's daughter Kuning. They were named after the colours of the rainbow, Green, Blue, Violet and Yellow. They ruled for a century, succeeding each other and marrying Sultans and Princes. Some said they were puppet monarchs. Oh there's so much to be said about the Queens of Pattani! I simply must read the Hikayat Pattani if I can get my hands on it!
I went on reading about the ancient Srivijayan empire and the kingdom of Malayu, Jayanasa. Great material for my story.
Today, I feel a little less ashamed of being Malay after reading of our history. Why haven't I done so, sooner? How Malay of me. It's just sad that we were once such a great race. Look where we are now. At the mercy of so called "democracy" and under mockery of greater races like the ambitious, money hungry Chinese. At least we're living in peace with them (albeit fragile).
How interesting it would be to live under the rule of the Rajas Ijau, Biru and Ungu, and their young daughter, Kuning. The minah part of me is exclaiming "STOPITSIAK HIDAYAH!"
Shriker
08:23 PM, Friday, May 9, 2008
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My sister has been playing Bright Eyes on loop. His better known songs with a lot of emo screaming like Perfect Sonnet and Waste of Paint. I haven't listened to Bright Eyes for ages. It has mostly been Elliot Smith and random indie pop. I did not know it was even remotely possible before but I think I'm outgrowing Bright Eyes. Could it be that my aversion to anything my sister likes is so strong that it dissolved my love for Conor Oberst? I was listening to Interpol just now and almost got knocked down by a car. The driver gave me a dirty look while I just smiled and waved.
After which, I cycled on the FORBIDDEN PATH and encountered a big, black dog. I think it's European belief that black dogs signify death? Shriker. Yes, Shriker was his name. I got off my bicycle and tried to wheel my way past him but he was in my way. Deciding, for some morbid reason, that it would be fun to get bitten by a dog, I stared him down. I was preparing every part of myself for a nasty bite but that bastard, Shriker gave me a puzzled look and just walked off.
Why don't bad things happen when I want them to? Rhetorical question.
Plunger
10:24 AM, Thursday, May 8, 2008
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My head is like syringe and my eyes, its needle.
Finish Line
11:46 PM, Wednesday, May 7, 2008
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I was all, No child of mine will be associated with brown trash.Kuso.
They say I'm racist towards my own kind. It's just the view the majority race has on us Malays maddens me. What maddens me even more is that sometimes it is justified! I despise Malays who can make something great out of their lives but prefer to kick back and live on the success achieved by others, and even then, complain about being unfairly treated as a minority race. If you don't want to be treated like minority trash, then stop behaving like it!
Like I said, when I have a child, I will try my best to raise him to be the cream of the crop. People will look at his brown skin and not judge him by it. No son or daughter of mine settles with mediocre.
My friends say I am crazy and shouldn't dream such big dreams. I say, get your faces out of each others' arses and stop eating each others' turd. Even if I fail, at least I tried.
Yeah, I've heard it all so don't bother to call me hidung tinggi and all that. This has nothing to do with arrogance. This is a fight for the restoration of Maruah Melayu. If you're not in on the ride, get out of the car and go sniff glue or beat each other up or make illegitimate babies or whatever it is you do now to disgrace the good name of the Malays.
Disorder
09:29 AM, Wednesday, May 7, 2008
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Yesterday I dreamt of someone I haven't seen for a long time. In it, I was convincing myself that I would get over having sex with an ugly man. That the price of love is heavy. I woke up laughing hysterically until I choked on myself. Then I placed my forehead on the table and laid there for a full half hour.
Song #36 Forget The World
09:29 AM, Monday, May 5, 2008
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A song to play on a quiet evening when business men and women in suits trudge home bitterly and the teenagers come out with their cigarettes and their beer cans and their guitars and their stupid thoughts of suicide. I didn't know I had this song. I only remembered yesterday when Brother's friend jumped off a building and died. Not exactly "a scenic road to hell". Graham Smith writes good songs. He even has one which is about why he writes such good songs, titled "Why I Write Such Good Songs".
This song makes me miss you a lot. A whole barrel full of miss, shaped like unicorns and swords.
Forget The World
by Kleenex Girl Wonder.
Forget the world
Cos it really doesn't matter
When I called you on that Saturday
that I didn't need the world
Forget the world
Though I must admit, I worry
You're in such an awful hurry
To escape the world
Oh, but there's no need to run away just yet!
Forget the world
But it never gives up the moving
So what exactly are you proving
by ignoring it?
Forget the world
You just answered your own question
It always goes the same direction
Why bother exploring it?
Looking in between the cracks
Everything you've seen is attractive
and the girls have pretty faces now
There's not much more to love
So don't repent, candy bar sinners
There're some things you can't say
All in all, we're always beginners
looking for the scenic ride to hell
or just a quick way back to the grave
Forget the world
You and I don't really need it
And there's no way to defeat it
So just push it aside
Forget the world
You can't run away forever
But I say better now than never
Let's have fun tonight
I'm still young and already I'm bitter
So something must be wrong
I may quit but I'm not a quitter
I just like moving on
So go on, handle bar tenor
Sing your songs on high
Soon will come the harshest of winters
and I can't take the coldness of your shoulder
when I need a place to cry
Forget the world
Cos soon enough it will forget you
And it really shouldn't forget you;
You're a worthwhile girl
Forget the world
Cos it really doesn't need you
At least not as much as I do
Let's forget the world.
Bland
08:23 PM, Sunday, May 4, 2008
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I have finally completed all seven books of Chronicles of Narnia. Breathtaking. My favourites were, Magician's Nephew, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, and The Last Battle. What an epic ending! I have not read a series starting with the birth of a world stretching all the way to the end of it. It deserves a low whistle of admiration. Hats off, Mr Lewis. Throw in a curtsy and a conspiratory wink.I do believe I will never outgrow my love for fantasy and children fiction. For that, I am glad. It would be truly horrible to grow up, not believing in alternate worlds and Heaven.
Father has left for Thailand, this morning. It feels strange without him.
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The cirrus cloud author pretends to be a cumolonimbus and rules a dominion of satyrs. In other words, a mythomaniac.
