Behind Choc Chip Cookies Musings

I have no idea what I should do now.

My was-summative, now-formative exam is over, I don't have patients to see, and I'm not in the mood to prepare notes for the exam in January.

So I baked a couple trays of chocolate chip cookies.

And everyone knows that baking is simply following the recipe and making sure the cookies to burn.

So as my hands work, my mind begins to wander backward through time, through the entirety of 2015. And I realise, my life might not be actually as boring as I've always liked to describe it.

I've traveled a bit, to Iceland, Sweden and Singapore. I've met new people, made good food, written a lot little. Moved house, bought a bike, paid bills (GAWD). I would like to say that there was no drama involving the heart involved, but that would be a lie.

And then I look at myself. Things have happened, but how much have I changed from all this? How much have I learnt, and improved myself as a person? I mean, right now, I look back, and I realise that there are things I did which I will never do now, and will probably regret to the end of my life. But the real question is, will I ever be smart enough to never repeat them ever again? The fact that I am hesitating right now while pondering the idea means that I'm probably still not really mature inside. I still have a lot to learn.

I should really talk to more patients while in hospitals. Technically, they are all senior to me in this course called life, and would definitely have some wisdom of life to impart. As medical professionals, we learn from the books and the research, but we stand to learn a lot more from our patients. This is the reason they deserve respect from patients, even as they look up, or down, upon the medical team.

Alright the batter is done. Time to shape them into little balls on this greased tray and chuck them into the oven for.... Half an hour? Keeping time isn't exactly one of my strong points. Anyway....

Slightly switching topic here, I wonder how much the world has changed. Honestly probably not much. Music is getting shittier, countries still cannot decide on a common stance on various issues (environment and war), important people are still corrupt. Rights are still misplaced, depending on who you ask. And the internet is still getting darker and darker.

I guess the only thing that has changed is my view of the world, and even then, not much. Not sure when it has started, but I seem to have always been cynical of the world. I've always been told that the people in power are abusing them. And then I realise that people who say that are often the ones not in power, and in a lot of hate. And then I realise that it happens on the government's side as well. And then I realise that everybody lies in politics. And that's when my hate for all politics and love for political jokes began.

But seriously, people are assholes, especially if they are fighting for something abstract, like a book or imaginary figures. Money and oil, I understand. Self-defense, I understand. But goddamn arbitary beliefs? Which may or may not be true? This is why I don't have beliefs.

Wait. No that's not what I meant. That came out wrong.

But the first batch of cookies came out alright. Time for the second batch.

Now I think that I've ranted enough for one day. I'm really not satisfied with myself. But I try my best.

I AM satisfied with these cookies tho. Mmmmmmmmm.

Want some? Cya at Christmas.

Behind the Dates We Remember

Remember, remember the 5th of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot;
There should be no reason why gunpowder and treason,
Should ever be forgot.

A wish was made on a birthday: July 8th,

Friends, food and fine dining;

Over the food he had no mood,

To face the prospect of dying.

Remember, remember the 11th of September,

Two planes, two towers and plot; 

There must be a war, at expense of the poor,

Every year no one forgot.

One month before: June 24th,

He was enlisted to risk his life;

He gave her a ring and bought her a ring,

He asked her to be his wife.

Remember, pray, the 13th of May,

Chinese, Malays and plot;

Remind them today in every possible way,

Lest bigots be forgot.

It finally ends: August the 10th,

He returns home from his deploy;

She didn't forget, she was in bed,

Celebrating their newborn baby boy.

The dates we remember are the ones that mean most,

To celebrate what is gained and mourn what is lost;

To replenish the dedication in our soul,

But for whose cause? I don't know.

They mark the divergence in our paths,

And we can but only look back and laugh

Or grief at things that made us who we are,

As long as we are not used.         Cya.

Behind A Wheely Bad Pun. Frame Me. I already Spoke of the Wheel.

Sorry about the lack of updates, it's just... I've been busy. Being around in hospitals really takes the inspiration out of you.

I just want rant about bike thievery. I understand that it is a thing that exists in London, and that there always were warnings and precautions heralded by the gov, the uni, the media.... about keeping your bike safe and secure. But well... to put it in haiku:

Listen all you like,

If advice is not heeded,

Bye-bye to your bike.

Yeah, I lost a bike. RIP bike. I don't have a name for you; I'm a shitty owner. But if I did I'll be even more upset to find out you were taken. To the bike thief: I don't know who you are, or what you want, but I do know this. I will find you, and....

Oh who am I kidding. Last year 381,000 bikes were stolen, and only a fraction of them retrieved. Chances are my old bike had already been sold off to some unsuspecting student needing a cheap second- (maybe even third- or fourth-, who knows?) hand bike. I even bought it second-hand; chances are it was already stolen.

But it is difficult to find a good bike. Even in games it costs 1,000,000 PokeDollars. This is why there is such a good market for used bikes. There is a demand, so there will be a supply. No exceptions.

I suppose I go on a tangent on how I'm supporting the market by buying potentially stolen bikes. But, if the alternative is spending 4 pounds everyday waiting on the tube, I'm willing to live with the consequences.

To illustrate, the second second-hand bike I bought the second after the week I lost my bike cost me 43 pounds. It means that after commuting with it for 11 days, the price already evens out. That sounds like a really good deal.

In the ideal society, we would live literally 5 minutes walk away from wherever we need to be. Alas, this is London. Hence, cars, trains and bikes were invented, and none of them cheaply. As a student, I am forced to take the cheapest, and least pollutant-producing, of the evils.

BUT NOTHING IS AS EVIL AS STEALING THE BICYCLE THAT BELONGS TO SOMEONE ELSE!!!

Honestly it was locked to a pole and everything too.

I guess shit happens. Thus, new old bikes are bought. Out of necessity, and for the love of my wallet, whom from now one I shall name Hairpins. Because they turn up even if you don't try.

You know, just in case.

Cya on the roads!

Behind Thinking of Exams in the Holidays

the caffeine runs through 

my veins from my 

superior mesenteric vein to the portal vein to the hepatic system to my IVC to my right atrium

then 

to the right ventricle to my lungs back 

to the left atria 

to the left ventricle to the aorta to the carotids up 

to my Circle of Willis to the meningeal arteries pass the blood-brain barrier diffuse into my Neuronal cell bodies hyperstimulation electrical impulses shooting in all directions

by Kylie Ang, 2015

Just a peek into my medical year ahead, starting in 5 days.

I will leave this home in 3 days for another abode.

Finish packing and shopping in two days.

Finish writing in one day.

Less than one day to cite/steal/be inspired a poem.

Time actually flies, don't you think? And before I know it exams will be here again. Oh NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo.............

Which is why 50% of my luggage would be powdered coffee.

Cya in the UK, and God bless the Queen. She's been there for a looooooooooooooong time.

Behind Unity and Hope

To all my fellow Malaysians,

Happy 58th Independence Day!

As a kid born in the nineties, I will admit that I do not know first hand the struggles of the people leading up to the liberation of the country from the British colonist. I also do not know the change in the life of an average person before and after Merdeka.

What I do know, however, is that every race banded together and promised the colonists everlasting muhibbah in order to win that independence. And the only way we can progress as a nation is using that same mindset.

I know some of us may think differently. Some may think that certain individuals are blocking the way ahead to a better future, and are better off off the office and the pages of history. Some may think that putting aside differences means yielding to those of other colours and beliefs, and will stop at nothing to stop it. Some believe that violence will lead to a better future, some are skeptical, some are dead against it. Some think it will be better as long as everything is unchanged.

I don't know who is right. But if anything really happens, I really do hope that everyone will be left.

Despite its flaws, I love this country. I love the people. I love the mixture of food of which may or may not lead to abdominal discomfort. I love sitting in air conditioning and complaining about the rain/sun. I love waking up to a cup of milo or teh tarik every morning.

I guess I just love my home, and I want only the best for it.

Only I can't see a way forward now that doesn't involve pissing off a substantial group of the population. If it was that easy, the country will be heaven.

But it's not, and I honestly don't know what to do.

I can only be thankful for what has been done for, to and by this country, and pray to any god you believe in for further peace and unity.

Only then will the path reveal itself.

Probably.

Cya in a colour-blind future!

Behind A Holiday Hazy Daze

3 more weeks before I return to London? OMFG. Where did all that time go?

But I do enjoy this life. Really I do. I feel... rested.

But at the same time, restless.

I HAVE TO DO SHIT. I DON'T CARE WHAT KIND OF SHIT, I NEED SOMETHING TO DO WITH MY LIFE.

Provided that it's not illegal or ill-advised or overly expensive, of course.

I don't know why I'm complaining so much. When term starts, I've plenty to do.

And yet....

I don't even know what I want now. And when I do, it's often 25 minutes too late.

This is when I slap myself in the face and scream internally:

You. Only. Live. Once.

Regretting stuff is not a very productive way to spend my life.

So I do shit. Cheap, legal, socially accepted shit.

Sigh.

You can tell from these bursts how restless I actually am.

ROTI CANAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiii....

I swear this haze is affecting my brain. How can I go for a run now....

I should gym more often. I mean, improving oneself is always good right?

What am I even writing.

I give up.

So, YOLO, wrote a rant.

Yeah,

Cya.

Behind A Teh Tarik Substitute

What is a latte?

According to Google:

But apparently you can substitute coffee with matcha green tea?

Part of a menu at Nana's Green Tea. Available in 1U. Wanna go grab a cuppa?

Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I love matcha.

I only wish that such good stuff isn't that expensive.

And I also wish that bad stuff wouldn't be that expensive.

Like Starbucks for example. I know how many people complain that Starbucks sells overpriced coffee, and it's a common joke that you pay all that for 7 tablespoons of sugar anyway. I mean for 5 pounds I can buy enough coffee powder, milk and sugar to last me a month, and in a correct proportions as well.

But why, oh why, does it TASTE SO GOOD?

I swear, if Starbucks release a matcha flavoured drink for a limited time, I will go broke.

But anyway. I don't really care that much for any kind of drinks right now  All I want is an excuse to meet my friends. I have only 2 months here in Malaysia, I want to meet as many of my old friends as possible, over any kind of drink at any kind of table. As long as we can all talk shiz over a good cup of broth, I would be happy.

Of course, the sweeter the drink, the sweeter the conversation. Probably.

Anyway, drinks today are getting weird. But that's okay, because I'm getting weird too.

Let's all go out on a weird day together.

Cya over a drink.

Behind An Animal's Malice to Alice

Literally every animal in that book was bullying Alice. Either they were all species-ist, Alice really offended everyone, or those drugs really did not agree with her.

And we all sympathise with Alice, because she is a main character, because she is pretty much the only human in the book, and because she is the *seemingly* sane person in an insane world.

Except I got it all figured out. The world's insane, I'm insane, everything is alright.

But now people seems to be very sympathetic with a non-human in Zimbabwe. Well, was a non-human anyway.

I am of course talking about Cecil the lion. Requiescant in pace.

You're... afraid of me?

It is a shame to hear about the death of one known as a friend to many people, especially across races. This fact is a little bit of good news in this tragedy. It's also very heartening to know that the whole of humankind still stands up against the face of the bullying of the harmless Alice, especially if no other humans share the same race as him/her.

Of course, there are still some who consider the act of sadness over Cecil's death and the subsequent #MurdererDentist hullabaloo to be as senseless as the looking glass. The argument goes that why are people making such a big fuss over the death of one measly lion when, everyday, big game hunting happens across the world, and humans are performing atrocities way worse than death upon their own kind. What can be worse than death? Well, the destruction of a race, a future, a nation, a culture.... You name it, someone is probably equipped to destroy it.

But you know what I see from all this? I say all this is happening because Cecil is a celebrity.

"Dad? Wake up, you're famous now! Dad? Dad, please answer me!"

....that was too soon, wasn't it?

Let's face it, this phenomena happens even to humans.
Van Gogh didn't make money from his paintings until he died.
Micheal Jackson suddenly wasn't creepy anymore and sold a lot more albums when he died.
Steve Jobs is still honoured as a tech god even though half of the Internet thought of him as a thief.
And there's a whole lot of celebrities I only know existed because of their obit, and I bet there will be a lot more to come for me and the generations to come.
But still I pray. Requiescant in pace.

And the same thing is happening with Cecil right now. A month ago, I didn't know who Cecil was. And now, I don't know anyone who doesn't know Cecil. It's like I entered a rabbit hole to a world where Cecil is adored and praised.

Or it's just the plain fact that the Internet is too powerful. More powerful than the drugs Alice was on.

Now don't get me wrong. I am absolutely against any kind of game hunting, big or small, and to be honest am still in an ethical debate with regards to farming.

But really, this has been blown out of proportion. There are murders! Fraud! Robberies! Murder robberies! A fraudulent robbery to cover up a murder! Elections! Political murders!

Or maybe I'm just subscribed to the people who cares about this sort of thing.

Sigh. That's the thing about human kind. We are bound more easily by hate than by love. I hate this sort of thought. Don't you agree? I need some tea to drown this madness.

But when all is said and done, we all still mourn the lost of a life known by many.

Requiescant in pace, Cecil. Maybe in my dreams I can cya, and you can tell me what you think?

Let us remember that other things are happening too!
Happy 50th Independence Day Singapore!

Behind Dear Siter and Anyone Who Listens

Around and in me, there be voices,
That make no sense, I call them noises.
The truth and lies are all atrocious,
Gosh.

Mmm whatcha say?
Oh that you only meant well?
Oh, of course, of course you did,
Pick us up after the school bell.

The people people demand silence,
Responded the others by defiance,
Responded again by violence,
Sigh.

Mmm whatcha say?
Oh that you only meant well?
What you say is not what they hear,
What they print is not what we tell.

I buy yours, I buy your competitor's,
Just to see which is better,
So I unsubscribe, won't read your letters,
Set.

Mmm whatcha say?
Oh that you only meant well?
Mmm, that it is just what we need,
Pave the road with good intentions.



Hide and seek. Cya.

Behind A Thorny Shell

It's good to be home!

And what better way to properly celebrate that than the smell of skunk mixed with a thousand spikes, the challenge one must face to reach the nectar of the gods (or the next best thing).

Yes sir, I am, of course, talking about the great king of fruits, the DURIAN.

du·ri·anˈ(do͝orēən,-rēˌän): Malay origin. Literally "of the thorns"

Of course, being a student of the overseas, I understand that many would disagree with me on the nectar part. Especially with the smell mixed in. And I would understand that. Some durian can be quite disappointing.

What I don't understand is their description of that god-awful smell. They say it smells of socks, or sweat, or something smelly. I don't get it. It just smells like.... durian.

Perhaps it is because I grew up with it, being exposed to it, habituated by it. I have not not seen a durian stall until I reached the UK. And durian flesh is delish. Most durian flesh anyway.

Usually here I would put some weird metaphor about how some people are like the durian: thorny and unpleasant first impressions, but fresh and bittersweet in the middle. Of course, with all metaphors, it comes with several unsuitable comparisons, such as that you can find good friends by their size, smelling a special place of them, and shaking them next to your ear.

I for one disapprove on being treated like that by potential friends, people I do't even know.

Anyway, I hope I can really meet up with what my friends back here in Malaysia; see what they have been up to. I really miss a lot of them.

Cya over a cuppa teh tarik? And possibly a durian or two?

Behind Becoming Stronger

Do we need a reason to continuously improve ourselves?

Perhaps I have been watching too many animes and movies, but it seems that the usual archetype of the character wanting to become stronger usually has a reason to it. It could be an event in the past, such as the loss of something due to what he might consider as self-incompetence. It could be an expected event in the future, such as winning a kung fu/karate tournament. Or the reason could even be in the present, such as a promise to one who is dear.

But is it possible to want to become stronger just for the sake of becoming stronger?

I wonder sometimes why improving oneself is not an intrinsic nature of the human. I mean, we constantly churn out new and improved versions of our gadgets, almost on a daily basis. But it's only the things we use, not ourselves per se. And even then, not every human participates in the improvings, only a few who are well versed in engineering usually involve themselves. Perhaps we can consider genetic engineering... But that is beside the point.

Perhaps that's why humans can progress. Some can improve all, so that the work of all is improved, for the sake of everyone.

But I would like to think for myself, and be selfish while I still can. While I have the time, I would like to invest in myself. Why? I don't know.

Just in case?
To become fitter?
To impress someone?
To beat someone?
To avenge the death of the family fishes?
To be better than my past?

I don't know. So until the reason presents itself, I will try and become stronger.

Cya.

Behind Musical Movies

So I've been pretty free now, and went to watch some movies in the cinema.

Well two movies anyway. And both of them have Anna Kendrick in it.

What? She's kinda cute.

Anyway, it also just so happens that both of them are based around songs.

First one was "The Last Five Years". S'a musical about a couple who met, loved, married and divorced in a matter of 5 years. And also the story is told in an unchronological, random manner. I mean, it's an interesting style, but it kinda spoils the ending.

Second one was "Pitch Perfect 2". S'a movie where after an unfortunate mishap, a group of "weirdos" (quoteth the movie) have to sing their way to rise from disgrace, and find their sound along the way. Oh, and there are two sub-plots as well.

While they each have their own merits, they are both far from perfect. The first one was not that interesting, 2 people singing for 2 hours, and not that good a lyric too. The second one, really cool and has much wonderful songs, but full of stereotypes. I mean it makes it a lot of fun to watch, but also a whole lotta cringe.

But it's fun to watch people belt it out on screen. And each movie is kinda relatable funny to each of the niche they are targeting. And honestly I like them both, even though I've seen better.

And it's totally not because of Anna Kendrick. No, totally not. Nuh-uh.

But I do want to sing now. A lot. But not about life or to win a world-competition.

I just wanna sing for the sake of singing.

Can I do that?

Cya on stage.

Behind A Vote Is A Man (Or A Woman, I Don't Discrimintate)

So last Thursday was D-Day for the people of the United Kingdom. Well, for those who follow politics.

Don't get me wrong, it is the duty of people to vote for the people who will lead the country to greatness. And I am 100% behind 100% of the people voting for their leaders so that those in position of power really represent the needs of the people.

Well, except there will be no 100% voter turnout, because of some international students like me who do not even bother. This is wrong, because, especially as a medical student, I'll be here for the next few years or so, and whatever policy that the winning government would come up with will certainly affect me, an international student. Financially, but socially as well.

But on the other hand, if I vote, I feel that it is unfair for the local residents. I mean, I've only been in London for 20 months. What do I know about how the country had always been run, and what would be the best way to run it? I don't even know who was the Prime Minister candidate for each party! Although I suppose that was just apathy on my part. Disregard that last statement.

I don't know. I wished I cared more.

Maybe because I have to go back after all this is over, so I only have my sights on what's happening back home. But it's bad to be blind to what is happening here in UK. Especially if there's trouble brewing. I like to think of myself being able to sniff out trouble before it starts.

Anyway. If it was any consolation for myself, the constituency that I could have voted for was a safe seat, so it wouldn't have made a difference anyway if I casted a ballot. Or would it?

I really don't wanna think about it. But I have to when my home elections come round. So, I have to start really caring.

I only wanted to be fair to everyone.

Ah well. It's Monday tomorrow. Again.

Cya in class.

Behind Busy Emptiness

This post was originally going to be a story about the DRESS, but I didn't have time for that and now it's no longer relevant.

Ah well.

As like most times, this blog has been temporarily neglected in favor of exams. Again. I'm sorry :(

Now that the big ones are over though, I will try to write more. It has been a while though.

Anyways.....

*   *   *

I wouldn't say that I am a huge fan of travelling. I know some people live for it; the thrill of being a foreigner in a foreign land. I know some people would rather sit at home in comfort; resting to prepare for the long journey ahead. I consider myself an in-betweener. Not someone who couldn't decide on what he likes, but rather one who enjoys the little things of both worlds.

But it seems that around me, the travelers are typically international students studying in the UK; hardly anyone local seem to travel abroad. Maybe it's because the local students are busy spending their break at home with their family. And also because since we're all in Europe, far away from our home back in Malaysia, we might as well take the opportunity to travel to neighboring countries and see what we could see.

Since I'm still young (ahem) and brimming with energy (ahemahem), I feel that it would be good for me to travel as well, to places only heard of in books and the Internetz.

But seriously though. If you think about it, what really is the point of travelling? Many people seem to make it a point on going to as many, if not all, countries in the world, as if a decorated passport is a badge of honour that must be obtained.

Think about it.
You don't get any new skills.
You rarely pick up the native language. (Over half of all countries speak English.)
You don't get money. (You lose quite a bit.)

Gotta catch my flight

But ask anybody who has been travelling, and they will say that it was the best thing that ever happened to them. And it's hard to see why not.

I like to call myself a seasoned traveler, but I have only been a tourist in the must-go places of the countries I've been to. Does it count?

But I've enjoyed every minute of my travels, regardless of what I've written above. It's just the experience of something that you don't really get in your home or study country. And sharing that experience with people you love, no matter your family or our friends, is something special that has no substitute.

Everything is just so new and weird. I like it. And as tourists, it wouldn't get old as we will return when the magic is still in the air. Or in the camera, depending on what kind of tourist you are.

It was never about practicality. It has always been about the magic, of which simple logic does not apply.

What one may expect to see in a new country.
Credits to Alice Tang

Poof. Aaaaaand there's class tomorrow. Sigh. This post seems kinda short to me, but now that exams are over, I'll try to write just a bit more.

Cya real soon!

Oh, and Happy birthday Mom!

Behind Singles Appreciation Day

OK I lied about coming back in spring.

Because I am a bitter unattached human, I now have this song stuck in my head.

I'm sorry.

Anyways, enjoy your weekend!

Cya! I'm a little more cheerful now.

Behind Individual Snowflakes

Holy moly, it's been a month and a half into the year. A cold, wet month and a half, but a month and a half nevertheless.

And the next few weeks will be eventful for most people. Val day this Saturday (which I am not celebrating, woe is me/lucky me), and Chinese New Year just 5 days after.

But these days are yet to come, and so I can't write about them. Not yet anyway.

I just want to write about a snow day.

Do you wanna...?

*   *   *

It's a funny thing, snow. It excites me, and it terrifies me at the same time.

On one hand, it gives us as Malaysians to do what we always have only seen in Western movies;

Building snowmans,
Having snowball fights,
Or just walks in fields of white.

On the other hand, it freezes the ba-- minds off sun-bred Malaysians, and leaves the pavements dangerously wet and slippery.

But all in all, I don't really mind. It hardly ever snows in London anyway.

*   *   *

Only time it ever did snow was that one morning I decided to stay in bed. Woke up, saw the pictures, went out, snow was gone. Like, completely gone. Nothing left.

That is, except for the graveyard. On the untrodden grass, remnants of what was a blanket of snow can be seen as little heaps of white, like threads of a stolen duvet.

If I squint, I fancy myself being able to see the individual snowflakes, differing with one another in so many beautiful ways.

But I delude myself.

Truly, what is left is the half-melted, and possibly refrozen ice/water, which will properly disappear once the sun is properly up.

Pity. I did want to build a snowman.

But I still like to imagine that snowflakes, once landed, could still retain that individualistic beauty that no other snowflakes have. Crystals of symmetrical perfections that belongs to them, and them alone, regardless of what the other snowflakes think.

I like to think that accumulated snowflakes, together, can withstand the heat of the moment and remained unchanged in their splendour. And although it's true that snowflakes together last longer than a snowflake alone, what we usually end up with is a semi-same molecules of ice.

Snowflakes change snowflakes, for better and for worse.

*   *   *

But we're humans. Don't for one moment think it's an analogy for human society. We don't work that
way.

I think.

Cya in spring.