Behind A Crowded Shop and A Crowded Mind

3 days ago, I was shopping in Italy.

Yesterday, I was shopping in London.

As a self proclaimed hater of shopping, I am quite ashamed of myself for this atrocity. I mean I don't hate shoppers, just the act of shopping.

You know....

Sacrificing money for stuff you probably will never use.

Walking for hours to find that one thing you want.

Mentally calculating the cost of everything to see if the sale is not a sham.

Spending days trying on different sizes.

Realizing sizes differ from store to store.

Jostling with people who actually enjoy shopping.

Being the bag man.

Basically, shopping.

Especially if you're a student on a tight budget.

Now, I'm not saying that I won't ever shop. A guy's still need to buy stuff to eat y'know.

Just that I don't understand how people *coughwomencough* derive joy from shopping. But that's just me. I am the kind of guy who would love a 2nd hand sweater for Christmas.

I just don't need new stuff. Just stuff.

Like stuffed turkey. And stuffed... pillows. Yeah.

But I won't judge you if you're one of those people. At least now I know what makes you happy.

And Christmas is all about happy.

Happy Boxing Day everyone.

Behind The Pines of An Evergreen

My family has never gotten a Christmas tree. Ever.

Couple of reasons.

One: We don't have the space to put it once we're done with it.

Two: We ain't Christians. No shame in that.

Three: We just don't really care for buying a tree, when we have one in the garden.

But honestly though, I do just love the whole spirit of Christmas. A time of giving and receiving, of getting together with your family, of love and joy, and of the saving of humankind by the coming of "Christ the Lord".

Notice how the seemingly most important of the reasons, I delegated to the back of the queue.

Because honestly, that's how Christmas feels to me, and I think to all non-Christians. As a Malaysian, I know that we all love to find a reason to have a joyous occasion. Not only during Christmas, but also for the new years of every race and religion, the achievements of our countrymen, et cetera.

We like to find happiness wherever we go, regardless the reason.

...took the Christ out of Christmas and added more Mass...

I'm sorry, but in a world with non-Christians, it is bound to happen.

And as long as people are happy, I am fine with that.
If you are not happy with that, I won't be fine with that.

But I ask of you, does it really matter if people forget the original meaning of Christmas?

Churches remind the flock, to look back at this day as the one when we are saved from sin.

Perhaps they are right, and we were saved. And we should be thankful. So we celebrate.

Shops remind the crowd, to stock up for this day and get the best quality goods to use with our family, at allegedly cutthroat prices at their premises.

Perhaps they are right, and we did save money. Then we can enjoy the time with our loved ones with a slightly better quality. So we celebrate.

I do not dare say who is right or who is wrong. For for such an objective question, it can get pretty subjective. And touchy. The amount of people you can offend with that question......

But the point is, Christmas means different things to different people.

It could mean a world was saved.
It could mean a life was changed.
It could mean a new mystery gift.
It could mean a gathering filled with love and joy.
It could mean a kiss under a mistletoe.
It could mean a three-generation family, gathered around the fireplace.
It could mean a day off work.
It could mean a nice dinner, complete with turkey and pudding.
It could mean a heart-warming story.
It could mean nothing.

But the spirit of Christmas is definitely in the air. The feeling in which you know that wishes could be granted, and possibly, but unlikely, by a fat jolly old man in red with a sleigh pulled by reindeer.

But I don't want to spoil the mood and everything. I just want bask in this spirit, smelling of mulled wine, hearing the praising corals, seeing the tinsels coats the walls, tasting the dry roast turkey, and feeling the happiness emanating from those around me, for whatever reason it may be.

Happiness. That's what Christmas means to me. And I don't need a tree to be happy; my hope is evergreen enough.

Are you happy? Free hugs available, or whatever that makes you happy (that is free. I am a student after all).

Merry Christmas, and God (whomever he is) bless us, everyone!

Cya!

Behind A Tenny

Attention,
Ten tenors attended,
An intended dance,
With ten tense dancers,
Ostensibly independent,
But tended to rend for attention,
In a tent in Tennessee.

Tentatively,
A bartender tends the tenors,
But his tendons bended,
Abdomen distended,
So he ended with pension,
And ended his passion,
In a tent in Tennessee.

Temp'raly,
The tent's tenants tend the tenors,
With planned gin and martini,
Teppanyaki, tortellini,
When it endsa, with marzipan mango,
Tenors, dancers, trembled as their hands locked; tango,
In a tent in Tennessee.

Pretentious,
Dancing till ten, the wenches
Wrench away hearts and tore down fences,
Shared trench coats, thirst quenched, defenseless,
Panting breaths while dancing pantless,
Hand-in-hand, but eight of ten ended there and then,
In a tent in Tennessee.

Enlighten,
What we intended when we attended,
A den for tender mended broken hearts,
Sent to pretend we're not what
happens to everyone who's torn apart,
I hope it ends and also begins,
In a tent in Tenne-cya.

Behind 700 Episodes And A Bit

Alt title: Behind 7 Months And A Bit

So it finally ends. 

Naruto, the gold standard of (most) aspiring ninjas (almost everywhere).

Not with the ending that everyone hoped it might have, but the ending that was best for everyone.

What was the ending, you ask? Well, I wouldn't spoil it for you.

.....mainly because I have never read much Naruto, and know hardly anything about it.

I'm sorry. I tried.

But it has been a big part of every fan's life, and I just wanted to pay my respect here.

I mean, just look at this:

Even MapleStory has a Naruto set. (Purely cosmetic, but probably costs real money.)

That just goes on to show how powerful Naruto truly is.

But alas, like all great things, it finally comes to an end.

Not by choice, but by circumstance. 

Think about it. If it goes on, there will be nothing but fillers. And one person can only put out so much work before he gives up, no matter how much he loves it.

15 years. Really I respect that. And your fans respect that as well, Kishimoto-sensei.

But think about it, Naruto fans. If it goes on, will you truly be happy? Do you not want a nice ending, structured well with all loose ends tied up?

I hate loose ends.

It's good to have closure for everything, and as long as everyone is happy, it will be okay.

But then we all know it's impossible to satisfy the fandom.

Sigh.

Let the fanfictions bring Naruto to 7000 episodes, for imaginations will take everyone far. Even for a non-ninja like me.

Cya,

Behind A New Generation

"Kids these days...."
"Uh... You're only a year older. You didn't even try to get the correct fake mustache...."

I really miss the times that have passed me by.

You know, it is pretty much universal that as kids, we would wanna grow up as soon as possible, but we will reach a stage where we would wanna go back to those times.

The fact that I constantly have these thoughts just prove that I have pretty much a really happy life up till this point. And truly, I am really grateful. In fact, if I start thinking about it, I might actually start believing in a virtuous Guy Upstairs. Or at least, a guardian angel.

But this is not a post about me.

This is a post for the ones that will come after me.

At the dinner for freshers organised last night, I did not see a bunch of freshers who knows nothing. Heck, there wasn't even a single Jon in bunch. (At least, none that I could remember.)

Instead, I see a group of enthusiastic people, who is willing to face the challenge of living in a foreign country, and brimming with excitement for the coming years.

I was like that as well.

I still want to be like that as well.

But I just can't find that same amount of energy, even though only one year has passed. I don't know why, and I feel bad about it.

I am jealous, it could be.

But this is not a post about me.

They will shape this society of ours more than we could ever imagine. They learn faster, bond faster, and sarcasm faster than our year's best of the best.

What will happen next? I don't know.

There will be drama.
There will be love.
There will be comedy.
There will be hate.
There will be happiness.
There will be tiredness.
There will be togetherness.

I should know. It happened to us, and it will happen to them.

So, I wish them all the best.

Cya! We'll be seeing each other a lot more, it would seem.

MSOC rocks, don't knock.

Behind Understand

I think I understand,
But I still don't understand,
So I'll just stand under
The Understand stand.

Cya.

Behind Transcendence, Pt1 (StoryTime)

A game. Innocent.

A ball. Astray.

Two feet. Eager.

A screech. Deafening.

Two lights. Bright.

A push. Selfless.

A death. Remembered.

*  *  *

Charlie’s tie was put on too tight that day, something his father tended to do when the occasion arises. But at this moment, Charlie did not feel like reaching up and loosening it. In fact, he doubted that he was feeling any emotion at all. He was numb from the accident 5 days ago, which left him with a bruise down his left shin and scratches all around both his arms.

It also left his neighbour, a girl of about 14, dead.

At the moment, Charlie was about 10: just old enough to realise that she was pretty, with large purple eyes, a small nose and waist-long hair. But the peculiar thing about her, and her mother’s side of the family, was that that hair was the colour of platinum: pure shiny grey without any hint of black, blonde or brown that you would’ve seen from someone who tried to dye their hair in that beautiful colour. And it looked natural on all of them.

Right now, at the girl’s funeral, an owner of that platinum hair was looking at him. Charlie recognised her as the girl’s mother. Filled with guilt on causing the girl’s death, Charlie wanted to look away, afraid to be the blame in her eyes, afraid to say: “I don’t even know her, I didn’t want to cause her death, I’m sorry….” And all the things that he should’ve said.

But he could not. No matter how hard he tried, he could not break eye contact with her. And in that span of a few seconds, Charlie realised, with a jolt, that he could not find any sign of blame in those purple eyes. Instead, in addition to the sadness of losing a child, he saw the hints of another look, one that he could not recognise.

Years later, Charlie would recognise that as the look of a mother giving her daughter’s hand in marriage to a man.

The wake ended at 4 in the evening. With heavy hearts and heavier souls, the procession left the house, and headed west, where the sun set. Charlie did not follow; he ran straight back in the opposite direction, due east. Behind him, his parents were trying to keep up for a while, then gave up, only able to guess the sorrow of his heart.

High up upon a single cloud hovering above the wake, the spirit of a silver-haired girl looked between her body, heading to where the sun set, and the boy, to where the moon was just rising.

As if reaching a decision, she leaped of her cloud and floated eastwards.