Introducing Me

In the light of my most recent attempt to achieve numbness of emotions then posting about it in here, I've realize that I have yet to actually introduce myself. Well, since I don't really want to introduce myself, I suppose it's all polite courtesy for my future self when she re-reads all this (I'll be 30 and gray before my time and she'll go "Giirl, you're a pathetic imbecile." Not that I except she could be better than me seeing that I created her.

And in so creating said future woman, let's define current woman. I'm in my early twenties, at the age where I should be maturely able to leave home and go build the nation or something. But I can't . I'm stuck here because I haven't graduated yet and I took the full bachelor degree course instead of doing diploma first and earn a bit of pay.

Along the way, I gained a few 'F's'. My folks think that the stupidity lies in the school. Maybe they won't admit to themselves that their slug-a-woman (wow, sounds like a bad comic book heroine) had actually blown thousands of ringgit in depression.

Woah, did I just said depression? I mean stupidity. Yes, I'm not depressed, I'm just stupid. No I'm not anorexic, I'm just stupid. No I'm not suicidal, I'm jus-... well, you get the idea. Around here, emotional problem means that it's an embarrassment to the family.

Sure we can all say "Oh, she's just having a slight fever. Let's get the Panadol," but the fact reminds that we're a society that abhors emotional problems. It's unstable. It's a weakness and God only knows if any other family member might be suffering from the same thing but had not yet manifested. Not good for the breeding stock of the rich and dato'ed (Dato' is kind of like a Malaysian knighthood, though its value had decreased somewhat for years).

Again, I've said that I don't care what people think about me, but mostly I was referring to people I won't see ever again. Goodbye-Aunties I call them, never around to say hello, just following *Mak to meet, greet and then say goodbye, it was a very nice wedding/function/party/whatever-social-event-please-don't-invite-my-mother-if-you-think-she-might-drag-me-along-again.

I do, however, care a little bit of what people might think of my family. Just a very small bit; Il have to do a CAT scan of my brain if I need to look if it's still there. I try not to expose them to trouble if I have to, especially since I caused it.

Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean that the trouble would disappear. They do, however, have a bad habit of growing to massive proportions. Usually when that happens, I divert their attention to something else until the storm blows over. A cheap and dirty trick but if it works, I don't care.

Next to that, I'm also a slightly appreciative person. Especially about art. Not art as in museum gallery but art as in computer-affiliated cyber galleries. Check my December month's image. It's a nice pretty image which the original I got from CGSociety.
If the original artist knew I'm using this image to enhance my blog, whoopsie then. But it should be not as opposable as the image had been shrunk a lot to fit the blog page so the quality is kind of lest=s dramatic than the original.

I like pretty images. I would look all over the Internet for particularly nice images worthy of decorating my PC Desktop. Sometimes, I write a short story about what I've e found. Expect the one for December sometime around December (duh!). I'm not an artist myself (there's a school horror story in here but I won't bore about it to you. Yet) but you don't have to be a chef to know classy food from fast-food.

But most of all, I like to write. Fantasy fiction mostly, about my magical imaginary world. I have it slightly more structured as time goes along. It's a great way when you can't afford to own a Warcraft account and much faster to zone your head out too. In this cyber community I'm in, they're all cool on making plain vanilla old-school RPG games. Kind of like Final Fantasy before it took to worshiping the 3D religion.

When I'm not wasting my time on building a cheap game one coding line a day, I waste in writing about my imaginary world. I got some of the basics in the right places, mostly the technicality of magic and some minor histories. I've always wanted to write a book since Enid Blyton corrupted my childhood and I still do.

But I have no place for my fiction to get expressed. My mom calls my fictional writings as 'mengarut' or nonsensical. Sufficiently, family support is that very last thing I would ever ask of them when it comes to my most precious thoughts of all. I just don't think I could stand their oh-so-overwhelming concern.

That's what this blog is for, a place for my thoughts. It's true because I said it so and it shall be so (cue God-mode moment here, bear with me). And when it comes to keeping my private thoughts safe, I feel better believing that my future self would actually be thinking, "Girl, you're an okay imbecile."