Of Chiba, Warriors and Religious View. A rambling.

Ah... Back in the old rut. Thus begins another lifeless, soulless, epic misadventures of me... 

Adventures...

OH WHY THE EMONESS cheer the hell up, me! It’s gonna be a great year for all of the DIE-ing students of UPSI. Check this out guys, our timetables ain’t all that bad, just that ULE is bugging the hell outta me. I mean, why the heck is there a class in the middle of my journey towards a safe haven I call home?? Come on, lecturers and admins of UPSI can’t you see these puppy eyes are begging for your utmost concern? Lay off the teacher protocol and make us damn kids happy with your care and laid-back affection! 

I am rambling the hell outta this writing now. Bloggy blog blog. I don’t update this site much, ayh? But I love to write, it’s just, well...

Uh... yeah. That' umm. Well...

Comics, or Manga for the sensitive souls, can really suck me into an endless portal consisting of sugar, whip cream and hot men (wtf?). Okay, recently after coming back from the Hajj, I've ‘acquired’ a shitload of mangas. And I am loving every single sweatdrop and exaggerated facial contortion of it. 

This should be a sidenote, or a footnote, which ever suits your taste. But as this is my true and sincere feeling at the moment that must be told upon the world as it will bring great pleasure to me, I freaking LOVE Chiba from Mongolian Chop Squad BECK. Oh hell, I love every single character of the story. EVERY. SINGLE. 

The left one, with the mustache. GOD I luv him. Ryusuke's missing though.

HOW CAN I NOT??

‘Nuff manga nerdy and fangirling talk. Let’s get back to whatever it is i am trying to project to any of you guys who are considerate enough to read what I wrote here. What was it. Um, oh yeah wanna hear about my pilgrimage to Makkah? Let’s just make this as simple as possible. It is the best thing that has ever happened to me. No kidding.

My views of the world had changed for the better. Live long, remember, rethink and live happy. That’s what my religion taught me.

Yet I haven’t changed much methinks. You’d still see me cussing out loud and prancing around like a deranged and psychotic weasel that had just been bitten by a rattlesnake who wears a cowboy hat.

When I grow up, I wish to be an ambitious person who works hard to reach my goal no matter what the circumstances are.

Yet I feel so happy.

Yikes, I still feel wrong talking about mushy feeling, thoughts and sensitivity stuff in my writing. I’d rather talk pure random than philosophizing and projecting my deep thoughts to the world.

I’m not on that level yet. I’m an amateur writer who still depends on Auto-correct.

FOREVER AUTO-KORREKT. Without it my 'I's will remain as 'i's.

Have I mentioned (probably not muhahaha) that the Afghanistan pilgrims (the males) look as awesome as an apocalyptic scene you see in a CG movie? It’s like whenever the Afghans pass by, me and sis is like “Woooaaaahhh”.

As awesome as literal jet-skiing? OH FU*K YEAH.

I bet those Afghan pilgrims, whose attires are EXACTLY as you see in television where they show you a documentary of the hard life the Afghanistan people lead in times of war and turmoil, can scare the BRAIN+SHIT out of any paranoid, Islam-phobic creatures of this planet. They look like warriors. They look like you can entrust your lives with them and end up being alive in the end. That’s what they look like. And the way they walk… I’ve never seen people walking that fearsome before. AWESOME dudes, they are.

We are literally walking with Talibans there.

Oh heck, I’ll stop here. I’m gonna go read Beck. 

Chiba 4Eva.