Snakes. At my door. I knew this day was coming.
I'M TIRED OF THESE MOTHER-FUCKING SNAKES ON MY MOTHER-FUCKING DOOR!
Oh wait, false alarm. It's a couple of sugar-canes tied to the door frame. Happy Ponggal folks.
The following excerpt was written yesterday, while The Scribbler was on board a train heading towards the Putra World Trade Centre.
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So, today was Ponggal Day. If you want to know, it's the day Indian families cook a pot of brown glutinous rice. I forgot what it celebrates. I think it has something to do with the harvest season. I used to know. I forgot. I ask myself why, but I don't bother not knowing. Why? Well, oh well. I just rather enjoy an unusual yet colourful breakfast for all I care.
I woke up at 11. Great dedication to an auspicious day. I've been exhausted very much these past few days. Probably because I was sleeping late, but waking up similarly late does not seem to justify my tiredness.
I had plans. I can't seem to keep to my plans. It's all over the place. Like my mind.
Ever feel like getting a sawed shotgun and just driving two shots into your cranium? Sawed because my hands aren't long enough to hold a shotgun in reverse onto my own jaw. Lucky for my brain, for it has no idea where to get a firearm.
Few Indian and Myanmar residents got into a fight recently. Few Indian people got slashed, one even bled all over the floor in a nearby KFC. I just bought chicken from that same joint on the same day it happened.
Why are they fighting? I don't know. But my money's on it's something quite solvable. But these fellows aren't going to solve anything. They just have a unwritten duty to make the other side feel inferior. These fellows aren't going to sit down and talk.
Maybe, instead of chopping up each other, we could all just sit down in a KFC and eat chopped up chicken. Well, maybe even then a vegetarian, vegan or some blue cross movement is going to condemn that action.
There's no pleasing the world.
So, you might as well please what you think means the world to you.
Yaohh :D
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