i want

i want....

...to just sit at the nearest cafe for a cup of coffee...and a breather.

...to light up a match and set fire to this pile of work infront of me.

...to lie down in bed with a good book and fuzzy teddy bear.

...to throw away all the clocks in the world.

...to go out shopping in the weekday when there is no noisy crowd and rude pushes.

...watch a kite flutter by......but there is no kite for miles around.

...to talk to a friend.

...to stop blaming myself for all things that go wrong.

...to eat all that i can eat without gaining a single gram

...to laugh again.

...to meet with friends until the wee of the night.

...to hear the sound of the waves and feel the sea breeze blowing against my face

...to sit by the window, watching the raindrops fall and listening to soft romantic music, alone with my thoughts.

old news

if i'm not making sense, it's cos i'm tired. if i'm ranting, it's cos i'm over-loaded. if i'm writing here, it's cos i'm seeking for an escape. a temporary one.

i've got too many balls to juggle at the moment. my brain is too tired to even come up with the words my heart want to express.

when you don't take offence, everything is dumped into your lap. it's also my fault. i'm born with a impaired gene; one which makes me HAVE to do everything, one which makes me HAVE to please everybody. psychoanalysts say it's because you want people to like you.....i'm not so sure about that. i guess it just seems like the easier alternative.

when a situation arise, everybody's most concerned. everybody flocks to the scene, asking, caring, trying to help. when the situation persists, people's interest are no longer there. nobody cares anymore. it doesn't matter who dies, who needs help, how the people at the scene standing-by are ready to drop from sheer tiredness or however dire the situation has become. nobody's interested anymore cos it's old news.

happens everywhere. in all situations. when people fall sick, in the politics, in the house, marriage....every situation where the situation gets stale. it seems....nobody like old news. old is gold? that's only for the fools.

missing so much

arrrrrrghhhhh! i'm going crazy! has anybody ever died from missing someone too much? i can't stand this! this sitting here, unable to do anything but miss her somemore.

missing her so much, what can i do? i took a walk back to her place. it has been uninhabited for so long, that so many crap is growing on it. it drives me crazy to see her place desecrated! i want to clean it for her...but i don't have the key.

she's crazy, i'm too sensible. she's open, i keep everything inside. she has the best EQ i know, i hold down the fort on the IQ part. she balances my life, brings a little craziness and a little spontaneity to my measured precise world. with her, i learn to open up, a little at a time, telling her things even when she's not interested in hearing them. she seeks me out like a guided missile even when i neglected her. she makes the word 'bitch' sounds like a term of endearment. she makes me laugh and groan at her whiny complaints. there is no one in the whole wide world that is like her, no matter how hard i looked. she makes grouchiness and brusqueness seem so sweet. in her crudeness, you can feel real warmth.in every other friend that i make, i measure them against her....but how can you measure up against a friendship that lasted 22 years?

for a little while, i couldn't understand why i hated sweet people. sacharrin sweetness brings a shiver to my soul. now i know. i want her bitchiness back. her bitchiness makes me feel sincerity.

writing about her feels like a betrayal. but it is the only way that i can take a walk back in my memories and hold her hands. i can't shout, i can't cry. all my actions and words have to be so precise and measured, so that i don't end up hurting others.

who stopped first?

ever get yourself in a situation where you close yourself from others because you thought they didn't care? you stop taking the initiative, making the next move....because you feel that they have not taken any steps down the road of friendship? you wonder...were you intruding? you stop calling, they stop calling. now you'll never know if they never cared...or they were just going through a rough patch.

i seem to get myself into that situation a lot. i get tired. i stop walking. pretty soon, i turn around...and the friendship is in the past.

i guess that is not the way friends should be. then again, don't two hands make a clapping sound? can you clap with one hand?

what do you like most about yourself?

a long long time ago, someone asked....what do you like the most about yourself? i would look at myself in the mirror, checking out my eyes, nose, hands, legs....all parts of my body to see which i am most contented with.

looking back, my vision somewhat clearer with age now and not clouded with all things material and short-lived, i realise that i loved my laughter the most. which goes hand-in-hand with that smile. the one with all my teeth showing. it is what i find most attractive about myself.

it is also what i miss the most now.

why is it that we find laughter more elusive as we grow older? will i grow into a sulking, pouting old nanny? i want there to be creases at the corner of my eyes, fine lines that remind us of how happy our lives had been. i want to hear the gasping sound of my own perverted laughters.

is there less to laugh at now...

or is it just me?

with love, we can win the battle

i averted looking into the eyes of the people in the room, picked a spot and walked straight to it. comfortably sitted in the corner of the room, slowly.... i looked around.


the people there looked like any other......like you and me. a little thin perhaps, some of them. then again, why shouldn't they look like us? after all, cancer is not selective in its choice of victims. it is a little humbling, and a little depressing, to know that all the people in the room, save for the family members accompanying them and the staffs, are all cancer patients. even that young boy, who had a whole bright future ahead of him...until cancer struck him.

overheard snippets of conversation...."yes, but to hear that it has spread.......", "....i rather take only one week's medication. i need to find a place to hide these medicines from the children."..... it leaves a sour taste in the mouth and a heavy rock in my heart. :-( people like you and me, with families who love them so, who will be lost if they leave....

they all have that same determined and courageous glint in their eyes. some a little beaten, some a little tired, but all with the same confidence and acceptance in their stride. by comparison, i look even more lost. perhaps they are doing a very good disguise of hiding their fear?

my glance rested on an old lady. she was accompanied by an old man. he looked strong, not in physical strength but in his soul. he looked like he knew what he was doing, where he was going and why he was staying. i'm glad that she has a companion to walk down this long and frightening road with her, to be her pillar of strength when she falters.

some came with an army of family members. blessed are them, to be surrounded with so much love at this time of need. i'm quite sure that love makes a difference in fighting this battle.

others came alone, sitting quietly for their turn at the chemo machine. physically, i'm sure they can manage it. however, mentally, wouldn't it be better if they knew that there was someone out there waiting for them, someone who cared whether they won the battle, someone who will be devastated if they gave up? where was that someone in their life right now? slaving behind an office desk? tied to commitments by ball and chain? anger bubbled within me. i looked away.

for the love of it

blogging is tiring.

exposing yourself to people that you don't know. people who are ready to judge you on a few mere sentences. people who believe they know you like the back of their hand because of the stories that you have told. people whom you have no inkling about.

it's a fair game when other bloggers drop by and read your stories....you can stop by their blogs for a little chat too, get to know them a little more and exchange tales, develop a friendship that is superficial at worst. sometimes, that scale is not as balanced. people that you have never seen, never heard and most certainly never known acts presumptously, classifying you into categories based on only a single aspect of your life that they know.

i like meeting people....but it's frightening when strangers drop by and act like we have known each other for centuries. perhaps i'm old-fashioned. to me, friendships are those developed through time, through thick and thin and through good and bad. friendships are when both sides are giving. i don't know what i should or shouldn't write anymore. i don't know what i should say. i don't want this blog to be superficial...but i'm wary. this is how the real world turns an idealist into a cynic.

it's tiring when you have to defend your own thoughts, explain your actions. some doesn't listen, they just judge. i blog to balance my life...to leave the sadness behind. everybody who reads has their own interpretation, their own views, tempered by their own lifestyles, who they are. it's tiring to justify myself to others, especially when i'm already so low.



blogging used to be comforting. now it's treading on scary.

sometimes i wonder.....why do i still blog?

i know. because i still enjoy writing.

friends

the blogosphere is a strange place.

when the world is cold and unfriendly, when your friends are not many......you turn to the blogosphere. people from all races and places drop by, hanging on to every word that you say, faithfully tuning in day afer day to the crap that you write. when you are happy, they are there, cheering you as you go along. when you are down, they turn up in troves, with words so touching to support you on your journey.

as time goes, you believe. you think of them as your friends. they probably know more about you than any other friend you have.

then you realise. most of them haven't actually been listening. most of them don't really care. they read....but they don't listen. you disappear for a few days. they let you be. some turn up, looking for new updates. some move on. some don't even realise you are gone.

then the cold truth hits you....it's all a mirage. the love is not really there. you can't tell the difference from those that really care or those who wants some entertainment to pass the day. friends shouldn't be like that......

a friend will call me when i am down. a friend will call me when she doesn't hear from me. a friend will know what's best for me and pull me out for some company even when she knows i don't want to see anybody. a friend will try to make me laugh when she knows i am down. a friend can feel it when i am down. a friend will scold me when i need scolding. a friend will not leave me alone.

that's just life

i'm tired. so tired. tired of fighting all those battles. tired of engaging in yet another war. but that is life, isn't it? after one hurdle, we get another, to test our will and strength.

the strength of a person is measured by how fast they stand back up after they fall......i, for one, fail desperately. for years after i received that middle of the night phonecall informing me of my grandfather's death, i freeze whenever the phone rings again late at night. that was my first experience with death. looking back at all the times i fell, i never seemed to have learnt how to let go....even after so long. perhaps it's part of life. perhaps that is what makes us who we are.

when i was young, my primary concern centered around myself. what should i do? what should i eat? as i grow older, my world expanded. to those around me; first my boyfriend, who later became my husband. just me and him, in our little world. loving and caring for him was easy, albeit it took a period of adjusting. it was no longer what i wanted, but what we both can do together. accomodating just one other individual in the plans and my thoughts was easy. then came the babies......life is no longer for yourself. every minute of every day, you have given up your thoughts, your time, your soul to caring and providing for them. they will not grow up fast enough....yet they seem to grow up too fast. motherhood is full of ironies.

as you age, and perhaps this is the worst part, the people around you age as well. people whom you never have to worry about, suddenly have to take center stage. you fight their battles for them. you hold them when they need comfort. this is the cycle of life. they were there when you need them, now it's your turn.

i don't know how other people do it, how they stand back up after each fall. it's not so much physical exhaustion, as much as mental. you think life is tough now....it gets worse. it's almost like there is someone with a twisted sense of humour up there.

but perhaps that's just life.

my secret cove

leisurely...i took a stroll, with my heart so heavy and my mood so down. i walked here and there, not knowing what i am looking for. i looked aimlessly at people drifting by. i look around to see where my wandering footsteps have brought me...to this place that looked at once empty yet familiar. tired, i sat down for a little while. it felt like home. i took off my load and let my guard down...just for a little while. a little place to be me, a little place to hide.......my secret cove.

i never thought i will revive this blog. if felt wrong to be writing personal feelings in the other one, almost as if i am burdening others with the loads in my soul. i know some of my readers are uncomfortable with my personal posts, glaring from the obvious lack of comments in the 'heavier' ones. some people do not want to know, frankly do not even care; deep emotions make them uncomfortable. which is fine actually. to each their own, i always say.

i have not been able to write about my personal feelings for some time. perhaps it is because of the closeness with my readers. perhaps it is the increasing transparency...

i need a place to be able to voice my feelings, to let it out and leave it there. i need a place to balance the outwardly smile and joyfulness i portray, a place to be melancholy and dark without hurting anyone. this place is ideal because it is deserted and forsaken. it is a place where few visits and no one listens.

this place doesn't shout for visitors. bloggers, that have now become friends, are not obliged to feel that they must come. in turn, i do not feel that i have to smile...except perhaps when my heart smiles.

obituary

gather round, everybody. there's a party going on here today. pick up a glass of champagne. feel free to let down your hair, shake your bottom and go crazy. we are drinking to the death of 'why so kaypo?'.

yes, this is the last and final post in here.

let's toast goodbye to that stupid name. i admit i took like 5 seconds to come up with that pathetic name. i don't even know what it is suppose to signify. one thing for sure; it's easy to remember. i guess i was hoping for some idiot to ask me the name of my blog, to which i can reply....(all together now...)......"why so kaypo*?". never happened though. *shaking head sadly* which is a given since people who knows about my blog already knows the name and those that don't know of its existence, i have no plans of enlightening them. yammmmmmmm seng

let's not forget that stupid nickname that went hand in hand with the blog. it started out with 'mslenglui' which was obviously connocted because the only people who seemed to call me so were those in the morning market. how pathetic. an obvious ploy to get more people to see the beauty in me. hah! then was 'me' which is equally sad, if you ask me (pun intended), confusing bloggers from all walks of life. it was supposed to signify that i am 'me', what you think you see is what you get, no packaging, no frills. plain and simple. let's toast goodbye to all that stupidity and senselessness. yammmmmmmmm seng

let's give another toast to all the happy, and silly, memories in here. yes, yes, i will forever remember being called 'ghost', 'long-winded' and other unkind adjectives. *grins* nahhh, they were sweet memories. yammmmmmm seng

ok, how about another toast to all the friends that i have made here. this blog wouldn't be what it is if not for you guys. does this sound like an oscar speech or what? it's not like i'll be getting an oscar award anytime soon, so indulge me, ok? my friends in the blogosphere. i'm so proud to say that. for all those who were so sweet to me and said the sweetest things, a toast to you. yammmmmmmmmm seng

hey, you there in the back! no making out in this party. go get a room or something. sheesh! i think that about wraps it all up. a final toast to this blog. YAMMMMMMMM SENG!

byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

i'm still writing though. for those who can't get enough of me, please hop over to my new place (or should i say places). it is still renovation in progress, so watch out for all those loose nails, saw dust and all, but i was a little sick of commuting to and fro the old and new place. see you there.

in case you are wondering where, it's all there - in my profile.


*incase annie is blur (which is a given), kaypo means 'to be busybody / nosy'.

application form

to: all readers

from: me, who else

re: application for leave


i have been infected by somebody's melancholic introspective bug. i realise that i no longer know why i am writing and for whom i am writing. this place no longer feels right and i don't feel i belong. the love for writing and story-telling is still there, but this does not seem like the place for me to do it anymore. perhaps i have been too caught up with the number game. how do you detach yourself from something as part of the game as that? i want to revel in the process, not the end-results for why else will i still be here?

maybe all i need is a break. maybe all i need is some time away.

will be back.

see you around.

seeking pleasure

honestly speaking, i cannot remember the last time i had another person of the same sex climb on top of me. it has been a very, very long time.......too long.

i am not one for such tendencies but it was all purely for the pursuit of pleasure. last weekend, i took a little time off, disappeared for a few hours and went seeking for some indescribable ecstacy. it wasn't something that i would announce to the family, for obvious reasons. i felt a little guilty, indulging in pleasures such as this but i have suppressed my natural desires for far too long and believe that i should finally succumb to it, wicked as it may seem.

this is not my first time. i've had other encounters with those of my same sex but i must admit, they are definitely much more satisfying than any i've had with my man. she knows how to give me pleasure in ways that a man just wouldn't understand, touch me in places i needed to be touched. her hands were smooth, my body ached for her gentle yet firm touch.

for that one hour, with nothing else on my mind, i was hers whilst she pushed me to levels of blissfulness that i never knew existed. i soaked in languid bliss, not bothering about what the outside world may think of us. closed away in that dark room, all that mattered was how she made me feel.

you and i, we are not naive people. we all know what i am talking about.

the expert touch of a masseuse. working out those tight knotted muscles. what an absolute bliss!

madness

i step out for half a freaking day.

the phone rings incessantly.

the boss calls.

he wants something PRONTO!

i have to go back.

i am in all the time, cultivating spiderwebs on my rotting body and nobody calls. the phone is dead. i take one freaking foot out and the world is looking for me.

it's a freaking crazy world.

**************************************

i talk to my bro on the 3G, eventhough he is like ten steps away, because it's free.

like i need to see his face when he asks me .............what was it again?

**************************************

i look at my feet and wonder why i am wearing heels that are at least one size larger.

what was i thinking of when i bought the shoes?

that my legs will swell?

for that matter, did i bring my brain with me when i went shopping?

whimsical

there you go!

someone was telling me that there isn't any pigs in this place.

huh?

oh!

you mean pics!!

*shrugs*

works out to be the same.

pics of pigs!

ambition

i have a strange friend.

he has been asking me the very same question for the few years that i have known him. from the start, he asked me "if you hadn't sold your soul to your job (ok, maybe he didn't phrased it that way), what would you have liked to work as?". i don't know what triggered his persistent line of questioning, perhaps he sensed the unfulfilment(?) in my present job.

that would be a very difficult question to answer, as i have been with my present employer for more than 10 years now. i recently had to chuck my second date-chop and request for a third one (those in the line will know that a date chop has a ten-years running series on it). it does not directly translate into my working for 30 years with the company (that would mean i started working for them at the age of 5!! gasp!) but it does shadows my roots in that place.

i have long since forgotten what my ambition was, or perhaps have buried it so deep that i do not even know how to locate it. my friend's very peculiar persistence has triggered me to ask myself the same. what was my ambition? the one topic that i had to write over and over again in essay composition classes, no matter which level in the school. had i known it was going to be all bullshit, i would have written about some glamour job like miss universe or food-tester for the emperor.

i think my very first ambition was to be a teacher. yes, i like to lord over other children and torture them with endless list of homeworks, make them stand on tables and whip them with a cane. no, i think it was more for the satisfaction of feeling all-important and clever, a desire to guide others and make them understand. i will be the one patiently teaching my younger cousin whilst others have given it up as hopeless.

the miss malaysia (or more accurately, miss hongkong as it was more popular back then, though i have no idea how i can even qualify seeing that i am definitely born and bred here) bit did float around in my head for a little while, though i had to give that up very fast when i realise my features were nowhere considered attractive and my height stopped reaching for the sky, or should i say never even bothered to.

when i started talking marathon sessions on the phone and win all arguments with any adult (except the one that permitted me to open my cage and fly out into the blue sky), i was not-very-nicely given the suggestion of becoming a lawyer. yes, i like to argue, for the sake of arguing, or sharpening my quick reflex wit if you like to put it in a nice manner. that one never took hold as i didn't quite like having the future of people's life on my hands. i cannot imagine the guilt trip i will go through if someone was to hang because i had not done enough *shudders*.

that was all a very long time ago. all swept beneath the imaginary carpet. if you were to ask me now what i will like to be, i will be hard-pressed for an answer. there are just too many jobs i will like to try, all not highly-ambitious i'm afraid. i would love to be a part-time receptionist, wearing a damn short and sexy skirt with my bimbo voice going, "good morning, this is xyz company. who will you like to speak to?". perhaps a highly-motivated waitress, "yes, and will you like to try our beautiful creme brulee with that?". or that idiot that pushes people into trains cramped beyond imagination, just so that the door will shut, like in japan. i wouldn't mind spending a week or two organising events, closets and even as a highly-perked nanny, no, the word should be au pair.

however, my friend would have none of that. only one job, he said. only one? i scratched my head but i couldn't come up with an answer. then it came to me out of the blue. i know what i will want to be. not when i grow up but perhaps in another life.

i want to be a translator. not for the embassies or some big-shot businessman, or beautiful celebrities and important presidents. i want to be the translator for those illegal dvds, who seem to **** up the subtitles all the time! "the german take no can't" ?!?!? what craps? what german? there is no german in the plot?! or "u r not suppose to do that". what is this? text subtitles?!! *groan*

i can imagine the satisfaction i will have on the job. i will call all my friends and tell them, "eh, you watching that new movie ah? hey, i wrote the subtitles you knowwwww". i will have first-hand privilege of watching new movies before they hit the shelves. ok, perhaps i will not be able to brag about my job since it is associated with illegal copyright but translating is not criminal, is it? i just wrote the subtitles for some hard-hearing old man who couldn't understand the muffled speech, so sue me! ahhhhhhhhh! i can imagine the gratification on that one, the pleasure of finally reading words that match the conversation on the screen.

they should be so lucky to employ me.

sympathy

a little while back, someone i know did something very commendable, something very charitable. she went off with a group of people around the streets of kl, distributing food to the homeless. something that i wish i will do instead of sitting here comfortably on my behind in this comfortable room, passing opinion like a high and mighty queen. she saw a side of the city that is not normally open to the eyes of the public, or perhaps it is, to those who choose to see.

she witnessed homeless people of all age, race and gender, blind, handicapped and even small children accompanying their drug-addict parent. there was a lady who looked like she had acid poured over her face, without a distinct nose or eyelids and a lipless hole for a mouth.

it is a given that such a scene will tug at your heart, bringing out sympathy even in the coldest of soul. it will serve as a reminder to all of our own fortune, which is often forgotten and unappreciated.

i do feel the same. however, my thoughts cast back to those that we deem as fortunate from what we see and know.

those who, to all appearance, seem like the luckiest person on the world but are fighting their own demons within. those that have all the material spoils they could possibly ask for but are trapped in a hell that others will not begin to understand. people who will not invoke sympathy from a bystander's single glance but is fighting for the very simple act of living every day of their life. people whom a donation or a free meal will not even begin to alleviate their sufferings. people whom others will never be able to do anything that will lighten their misery.

is their story any less sadder than those lying homeless in the streets? these people who will never invoke sympathy simply because there is no visible signs. people who think death is an easier alternative than living their lives out everyday. or is it just a sign of the weak? surely, that option in itself takes a lot of courage. who knows what demons they have been battling and for how long. what possible hell could they be living in that death seems like a sweeter alternative? like leslie cheung, the infamous singer who took his life when faced with depression, we'll never understand what they have to go through every minute of the day. hopefully, i'll never have to know.

my heart cries also for these souls. people who bleeds from the heart but you cannot hear their cries or see their misfortune. people whom you will never ever even begin to understand their plight. people with whom the whole world will never know to sympathise. people whom others will never understand.

questions unanswered

for as long as i can remember, i have been the youngest.

i was the youngest in my family as i was growing up. a position that didn't bring along the necessary spoiling and pampering but more of the trappings of never being able to do anything or go anywhere i wanted. it is an unwritten rule in the household; never listen to the youngest. sheesh!

when i was schooling, i was a year younger than the average classmate for every year after secondary four. eventhough it was just a difference of 12 months, i felt pretty small then; both in terms of size and importance. sheesh!

the pattern persisted to the uni-days. i was like the youngest child, presumed sweet and innocent, the little baby for everyone to keep an eye on. they were 3, 5 or even 12 years older than i. i listened whilst they talked. i learned whilst they taught me about the lessons in life. nobody listened. sheesh!

when i first started working, i had no equals. no one my age or even remotely close. it was stiffling, and sombering, working with people an entire generation older. forget about jokes, you don't even smile unless absolutely necessary. i tried valiantly to grow up faster, to look older, or at the very least, more convincing to them. sheesh!

when i ventured into post-degree course, it went without saying that i was going to be among the youngest in the group. somehow, somewhere, i have accepted that i will be the youngest among my peers. it didn't matter, as long as i proved to excel in my performance. sheesh!

however, one day when i wasn't looking i grew older.

just when i assumed i will always be the youngest, i became the oldest. just when i thought i will remain the smallest, i grew up. i look around. everybody else is younger. what happened to those older than me? where did they go?

why do i still feel so young then?

when will i start feeling old?

a magical journey

for all those i met.....

in 3 hours, 43 minutes and 22 seconds
i was taken on a miraculous journey
where strangers were transformed into friends
and names evolved into identities.
alphabets that were just names when arranged
became people with emotions and a past
words that were cold and distant
became a warm invisible touch by a friend.
in the blink of an eye, everything changed.
stories that were told day after day
turned into letters from a friend
telling me how his / her day went.
whilst reading his posts,
i visualised
him sitting there, as if telling me
with his very own voice, and the flick of his hair.
the face lingers, the feelings remained
is this all in my head
or did we just become friends?

not another meme

my fingers are stiff, my brain rusty.

it has been the longest time since i was last tagged. it is probably an honour to be remembered and tagged again by the much revered and oh so mighty ah pek but this one that he has just served me proved to be the most difficult by far. true, it will be easy to just whip out any answer from the dusty old bag i call a brain, but as a mark of respect to this man, i think i should stop and ponder for a little while.

this is also probably the most boring tag i have received. who the hell cares what your favourite movies are? it's not like any of you are going to a movie with me soon and will like to find out the genre of my likings, so what does it matter which movies i adore? most tags reveal something about the "tag-ee" but i seriously can't imagine someone telling me 'oh yes, now i know that you are a shallow air-head because you like stephen chow's movie' or 'better stay clear of you, you have a potential murder streak because you like to see house of wax' (definitely not paris hilton's version, ok? gagggggg!.)

nevertheless, i shall plough on, lest i am being reminded of being long-winded. i don't know where he gets the idea that i am a movie-fan but he is amazingly accurate. a movie-fan may not be the correct description. i call myself a movie-dumpster. i take in all types of movies; thriller, romantic, comedy, drama, action, chick-flicks, whatever you have as long as i have time to spare and a correct setting; both of which are increasingly difficult to come by of late. the only type of movie that i absolutely can't stand is those where every single freaking person in the movie dies in the end. or those that have every possible misfortune befall the actor / actress. she lost her parents since young, her sibling died trying to save her from a car-crash which left her disabled anyway, the boy she loves turns out to be her blood-brother, she has cancer.... ?!?!?!?!? what's the point? let's just have a bomb drop on all the characters at the very start of the movie and kill all of them! saves my tears and the nerve-wrecking moments.

the problem, and therein lies the difficulty, with this tag is most movies go in one side of my brain, run havoc in there for a few milli-seconds and leave the other side, without so much as a trace of its existence. i forget totally great movies in the blink of an eye. sighhhhh! i have problem remembering which movies i really like. so, for the purpose of this tag, after spending the weekend deliberating on it (see how serious i am!), i shall choose movies that have somehow managed to stay with me, despite the test of my dementia-racked brain.

since i have been going on and on, i shall cut it short here. want to know what's so good about these movies, or what it's all about? go watch it then! haha! no pics, no synopsis. sorry.

1. the romantic - Moments to Remember (korean)...*sniff*

2. the thriller - Memento (killed lots of brain cells trying to remember the last sequence)

3. the recent comedy - The Pink Panther (yes, the 'stupider' the better)

4. the supernatural - The Sixth Sense (the ending just stays with you)

5. the trials and tribulations of ms. me - ok, that one is not out yet. it will be one day, you just watch out for it. i can't think of anymore and i'm sick of trying. so ah pek, four only, ok?

usually, i will tag others with glee, with a revenge. this time however, i shall spare you. let's wait for another more interesting tag, shall we?