Ugh. UGH. I hate having to think too hard. It just messes up my brain. sometimes, I get ideas, put them on paper, type them up, then post. But most of the time, they just wither away like a paper airplane on fire. Doesn’t even make sense. Then there’s homework.

Oh my god, the homework. It’s like piles and piles of solid depression landing down on my head. Thoughts can weigh me down.

Sometimes, my thoughts can wander away. Like how Michael talks on VSauce. I mean, he can start a video about pencils then go on about the rules of war. Speaking of war, what’s up with the world now? Why all the violence?

Anyway, ever wondered why clouds don’t fall? They do, actually: rain. Speaking rain, each drop of water on the planet probably contains hundreds of lifeforms, so when it rains, you’re actually getting hit by tine microbe packets. Also, the dust you see on windowsills? It’s astronaut underwear. Speaking of underwear, why does….


..so vacuums can’t suck themselves out of existence like black holes can.

Y’know, this is the most links I’ve ever inserted into a post. Oh, look at the time.



Leather Apron

London. 1888.

The town of London was known as a utopia for many across the world. The centre of a growing empire.¬†Tales of golden pavements and roads were commonplace. In truth, the cobbled pavements and roads were no golder than a blacksmith’s gloves. Many of these roads led to dark alleys and streets which were lined with pubs and bars filled with shady characters. One of these streets was a host to one of the most notorious killers to ever live.

It was about 5 am. A man was standing in the dark just behind backyard.

He was tired and angry. He was poor. Barely enough money to feed him for a month or so. Insomnia ravaged his mind and depression tore at his heart. For the past month, he’d been demanding money from the many prostitutes that infested the streets. He had eeked out a living by threatening and abusing the pub owners to give him their well-earned money. But that still wasn’t enough. He needed more. An urge drove him to do it.

So he did the deed. The man was educated enough in surgery. He was handy with a knife. It was simple really, slicing the woman’s stomach open and dismembering her innards.

His victim lay in front of him in a pool of her own blood. Annie Chapman used to be her name. The killer wasn’t sorry at all. She knew the terms and conditions of their agreement so she should have saw this coming. But no, she had to scream and flail while I carried out my part of it. Can’t people just die in silence?,¬†thought he.

This was his second victim so far. Why did he do it? He didn’t know. What he did know was that he liked it. He enjoyed watching people scream and collapse as their vital organs spilled out to decorate the pavements. He also knew that he needn’t worry anymore about money. Money could only buy a person bread or a place to stay. He knew it well enough that just food and wealth wouldn’t quench his thirst for he craved something else: Life. Or rather, the removal of it. The only thing that could fuel him was a taste for blood.

That day, this man finally realised what kept him alive. That day, his heart stopped pumping blood and instead burned with fire. His blood-stained hands grew cold and his eyes lost all emotion. That day, an icicle froze through his lungs and mind, puncturing all empathy he ever had. A crooked smile colder than the Arctic filled his pale face.

He thought of new strategies. He could frame it on someone else. He could terrorise the streets of London and tear its citizens apart. He would be known as a Ripper.

The killer lay down his signature clothing beside his second victim. He would change today.

He was leather apron no more.


Happy New Year!

The clocks struck 12, the fireworks illuminated the midnight sky and the earth completed its orbit around the sun once more. It’s the first day of 2015. For some of us, 2014 may have just been another year in our lives, for others it was an important and turbulent one. Indeed, a lot of things happened in the past year. The World Cup, Winter Olympics, politicians rose and fell as economies changed. 2014 was also a big year for movies, books, music and media.

And then we come to the more.. negative stuff.

Wars were fought; many people died in the Middle East, violence became an issue, terrorist attacks; extremists and militants mostly (I’ll talk about these in another post later), shootings and crimes increased…. And the tragedies, my god, the tragedies. An Ebola virus outbreak in West Africa, intense floods right here in Malaysia, the sinking of a ferry carrying hundreds of high school students and an alarmingly high number of aircraft accidents. Seriously, MH370, MH17, AH5017, QZ8501 etc. (I don’t want to jump to conclusions; I bet you there are hundreds of conspiracy theorists smashing their keyboards on internet forums about the many aircraft incidents).

But let’s not focus on just the bad things. Sure, 2014 may have been horrible for many (and frankly, 2015 may not be any better; this year just began and already 36 people have been killed in a New Year’s party in Shanghai) but let’s try to make 2015 a memorable year. Not for tragedies and wars, but achievements and peace. 2014 should be a lesson for all of us; as they say, learn from our mistakes. Let’s strive for a better world.

Happy new year, everybody.