of Gary Oldman and face shredding...

I couldn't quite make sure if it was the moon or the sun peeping through the faint clouds. It was either sunset or dawn; the best things in life always do come in little packages. These lights are the shortest of any other kind. I arrived alone to the convention but I had too many luggage to be carried by one, although this goes by unnoticed. It was held at my old school's building. But it was no longer a school, I could tell. On the other side of it where there used to be an open field, there was a bridge-like extension into a futuristic-looking sports arena floating in the sky. This looked beautiful in the orange-blue lit atmosphere.

People were gathering and unpacking. I arrived at my floor - top floor - but there seemed to be no more rooms available. And so I lodged my bags at the corridor, along the side beams, in front of a room occupied by a big family. I wasn't the only one 'roomless' so nobody really minded us perching in their doorway. After dropping the heavy load, I took a big sigh of relief and turned towards the sky. It was beautiful. It was then that I heard his voice.

Everybody around was settling down and unpacking their luggage. This sunset/dawn lighting was lasting longer than it usually would in real life. But I didn't mind. The air was cool. We were at the end of the corridor. His room was the last one, it was next to the room occupied by the couple with 6 kids. 4 big ones, 1 tween and 1 in their mother's arms.
"Hey there," he said first.
"Hi." I replied, "Gary Oldman." He laughed and we continued to exchange awkward small talk.

He too was by himself but he was somewhat the Jim Gordon character in Chris Nolan's Batman and so his room was full of security equipments and confidential folders. Why would he join such a convention? I had no idea since I myself had no idea what was going on. We talked and talked and when dinner was served at the cafeteria, we had dinner together. Later that evening he was on duty and had to make his rounds on the top floor. I tagged along. We talked about the people staying in every room we passed. Gary Oldman read up on everybody's backgrounds to filter them from any threat.

The light was still of sunset/dawn setting. It was timeless. Or it could have been that we slept through a day and I dreamnt past it to another sunset/dawn. We had to go to the arena now. 'We' meaning everyone. The 'games' were starting. I was alone again, Gary Oldman was nowhere to be seen. I joined the crowd at the arena for a while but later had the urge to go back to the lodgings. Crossing the extension bridge, the roar of the masses could be heard. I didn't bother turning around for I was fixed on my target. I was carrying a hot dog in one hand.

The rooms were empty and still. I sat on my bags in front of the dark room and nibbled at my hot dog. I waited.
    Blackout.
The next thing I remember, I was standing behind a wild crowd a few feet away from where I just sat with my hot dog. It was no longer sunset/dawn, it was now daylight. Most of the women were gasping and wailing. The men were at the front and they were pale, dead inside. Up front I could hear Gary Oldman trying to keep some order. He was joined by a few other policemen. I didn't bother pulling through the crowd to see what all the fuss was about. I waited until they dispersed, until they went back to their rooms to mourn, to get sick of the horror and throw up.

It was then that I saw the bloody hand print on the door. The door of that room. That room which I sat across before I couldn't remember, where my bags were. But I was calm. And Gary Oldman saw this. His eyes locked on to me and mine on his. I walked on further, getting nearer to my bags and closer to the room. I looked inside and saw them lying in their beds, soaked in pools of blood. The 4 big kids, their faces were torn off. They were dead of course, I thought. I glanced over to my left and Gary Oldman was still staring at me, studying my reactions but at the same time I sensed that he was fearful. I went to him and gave him a hug. He was struggling with words. I simply said, "It's okay. Look behind you."

There was a trail of blood on the wall at the end of the corridor, next to his room. He turned around. Ordered his men to survey the parameters. Beyond the wall was quite a long way down. One of the policemen suggested the trees as the murderer's escape route. They got busy. I walked away. To the floor below.
The parents were wailing for the lives of their 4 big ones. They were crying so hard until it was as if their eyeballs had shrunken beneath their swelled up eyelids. Their whole faces were red and wet with tears and mucus. Their sanity was being shredded to pieces and they just couldn't understand, there was no reasoning. They were devastated, and everyone else were too. Their throats were clogged with all the words they had to say but they lost their voices and all they could have done was vomit. Vomit for the dead.

I went to the ground floor to search for plastic bags, I had to leave. There were food all around. I didn't remember this being the cafeteria. From pastas to pizza, noodles and pastries. I ate what I can as I searched for plastic bags. I needed plastic bags for my worn clothes. I had to hurry. I didn't feel as calm as before, I was starting to panic when I couldn't find any plastic bags for my laundry. Then I thought, maybe I could just gather all the worn clothes in one bag and clean clothes in another. Then I remembered, my bags were many and they were all in front of that room. Sacrifice them, like you sacrificed them.
Just leave. Goodbye Gary Oldman.

Emo Edd and her Hate Paint

Today my clinic partner Ann asked me to make a list my weaknesses. I know, pretty frontal. But she was trying to make conversation with me so that I won't doze off like last time. It was a boring clinic. Digging for calculus is a boring job. And assisting a calculus digger is ten times the bore.

I only gave off a few. It's like being asked what your favourite song or movies are. You know them at some point but you go blank when asked...point blanc. But unlike fave songs or movies where you can always try to remember what you typed in your many social net profiles, weaknesses are features we tend to hide and deny. Reading this you might think, "No, I don't"...yeah.

Well, my list of weaknesses is quite...very long. Noticing them was one thing, admitting them is another. One main trait is that I have a big fat ego. [I just typed 'ego' in capitals but rewrote them in small - trying not to prove a point] I noticed this problem 5 years ago during my 2nd year 'here' [crap, I'm still 'here']. And although I noticed it I didn't know how to deal with it. I used to think that studying dentistry was one of the cause and that I needed to force myself into manual labor to understand the effort needed to deserve a living  but that was just a premature speculation based on non other than the monthly emo-hormonal fluctuation which at that time was pretty much nearly everyday of the 2nd semester [dare you to say that sentence in one breath].

So it was left to grow and grow and now I'm kinda fearful in facing it head on. Its like it has a life of it's own and if I try to banish it from my pinky hemispheres it would squirt out a self defense mechanism which in my case would be an autoimmune mechanism. And then I would lose all my other features, good or bad. I will transform into a zombie and join the world of the undead as a brainless mass of meat-suit where it's sole purpose of wonderment is to devour fresh, juicy brains of the living. I'd rather be a vamp [of the Underworld type, not Twilight nor Trueblood].

I am not sure where this trait comes from. A theory suggests genetics but that is only through personal observation only. Another theory would be the exponential rise during my academical peaking in college matriculation thus leading to my placement in the dental world. It could be both, resulting in a cumulative result. Wahai si bongkak.

Second biggest weakness, I brag about myself. Even be bold enough to reveal my weaknesses, an attempt to appear fearless and cool. Need I elaborate more? Actually I think this should be number 1.b) since I have my own blog.

Third, the hatred that feeds my soul. I see it as both a curse and a blessing. Not many people can cultivate hate and use it as a source of inspiration. Well, negative inspiration of course but one inspiration does lead to another and from all that fire, a phoenix will rise. And my phoenix is gonna kill you black listers.

[I have to cut this short for I am sleep deprived]

Last night I unloaded a heavy burden and after a long time, I can write again. Although I have lost all my readers and this post might not be read by anybody at all, ever, I feel like I did when I first started this blog. Hopeful. InsyAllah.


Later days.