Smoke Gets In Your Eyes.

I've been pretty crazy lately.

Serious, I've been going out practically every night for drinks and smokes. I reach home about 3-4 a.m. everyday and I'm becoming a social menace, according to my parents. Somehow for this one summer, I do not feel like staying inside the house. Maybe because I've done too much of that for the past 6 months, so it's like the 'real' me being released with a bang. To be really honest, this isn't 'good' for me. Yeah, a 'walking zombie'. That's what my dad calls me now. But I beg to differ, because I'm always the one killing zombies in Left4Dead.

Haha, shit things happen from time to time I guess. My official Archaeology offer letter has come in. It says 'unconditional'. Yep, I'm really heading to a university being 2 years senior to the new-comers. Do I feel left out? A bit, to be honest. My friends are graduating soon and I've barely started my university education. Is it bad? Not really. I'm pursuing my dreams and most of them, maybe even you, are not. Yes, and I can prey on the younger girls like a little pedo boy too, while you can't. Wait, I'm not single, darn.

So what's the downside? My family isn't too excited. Taking up archaeology to them, is like commiting 'career suicide'. They are beginning to label me as 'a potentially useless piece of garbage flesh'. They don't say it, but I know. I guess not everyone thinks on the same wavelength as I do. Those who actually do, they're too afraid to leave their comfort zone to do what they really want to do. It's a sad world, that everyone is being influenced by others to 'follow the trend'. And the trend is to be the obedient, hardworking and exploited employee. Whoopee-do.

Feeling The Blues.

For once the break isn't too long.

Hurray, only a few days since the last post, surprisingly. I've been doing so much thinking and shit that I don't know what's going on with me anymore. I'm changing, but I don't know if it's for better or worse. I feel a bit sad. Because things around me are changing too. Nothing is going to be the same again. Why? (Shit, what's with this depressing mood)

I actually took out a book from my shelf (which I bought ages ago), when I was really into music from the 50s, 60s and 70s. I think when I was 14 years old or so. So it's a book which I bought about 6-7 years ago. It's not a super amazing book, but a simple music book containing lyrics and chords for thousands of oldies from those eras. No joke, I used to love those music even though most of them were extremely cheesy love songs. Unchained melody, Only You, Earth Angel and so on. You know what I mean.

The Golden Oldies.

Reading this book really brings back memories. Memories of the good ol' days when music played a major role in my school life. I still remember singing 'Stand By Me' with friends and enjoying it thoroughly. It was an amazing moment even though most of my memories of that time have pretty much faded away. I didn't try to forget, but it just fucking got away. Thank god I opened up this book, at least some of these lost things came back to me. Flipping through the pages reminded me how much passion I had for the music ages ago, and I guess some of it still remains. The songs are still as good as ever.

Bah, now one song is still stuck in my head. Not a well known hit among many people nowadays - 'Crying' by Roy Orbison. Why this song? Maybe it slightly resembles my 'feelings' right now. Not that I'm literally crying out, but I feel the emotions when Roy sang it. And I just sang along. I used to do this. And I still do. Damn.

I was all right for a while
I could smile for a while
But I saw you last night
You held my hand so tight
As you stopped to say, "Hello"
Oh, you wished me well
You couldn't tell
That I'd been crying over you
Crying over you
When you said, "So long"
Left me standing all alone
Alone and crying, crying
Crying, crying

It's hard to understand
But the touch of your hand
Can start me crying
I thought that I was over you
But it's true, so true
I love you even more
Than I did before
But, darling, what can I do?
For you don't love me
And I'll always be crying over you
Crying over you

Yes, now you're gone
And, from this moment on
I'll be crying, crying
Crying, crying
Yeah, crying, crying
Over you


Random stuff:

Good photographers can take good self-portraits.

A New Start.

My apologies.

First of all, forgive me for the ridiculously long breaks between posts. I have been travelling around lately and barely had time to go online. In fact, I just came home from China yesterday midnight. Plances, airports, trains... I'm starting to get sick of this. So I don't think I'll be posting up photos of China this time (since I didn't really take many anyway). A short trip, you might say.

Many things happened lately. You know, both good and bad things. You really learn to appreciate all the little things in life when you are completely honest with yourself. When you consciously open up to your true feelings and do not let your judgements cloud you. I recently made a huge decision which I otherwise would not have made if I was sticking to my stuck-up principles and ego. I'm a proud 'macho/male/man' man to be honest but I'm actually very glad that things turned out this way. For this once, I actually felt better after abandoning my years of stubbornly adhering to stupid rules that I set myself. Of course, I still do have my very own 'way of living' but I think sometimes a stupid decision might just be for the better. You just need to pick the 'path' of no regrets. Or the one with the least.

Ahh, the emotions. I get the creeps from reading the paragraph above although I did write it down myself. I'm disappointed with you, Ralverd, you're too fucking soft already. Anyway, fuck it. Just this once I'll let it pass. Just this once.

Below are some extra photos which I took in Hong Kong. Till then.

Somewhere in Soho, Hong Kong.

A view of the city from high ground.

PS: I hope you are happy being honest with yourself. I wish for nothing more than you being happy. That's what makes me happy.

Speedy Gonzales.

5 days went by and I'm home.

Somehow it's always tiring for me after a flight, no matter how short it is. The fatigue gets into me and soon I'm in a ridiculously lazy mode. How was the trip to Hong Kong? 2 words - pretty good. Or actually more than that. Let me 'glorify' this whole trip to make it sound more exciting - to be exact, I had a rendezvous with my beautiful girlfriend in Hong Kong. I would explain in detail what we did over there, but it might be a bit too much for you. Why? Go figure. Anyway, I'm just too fucking lazy to fucking bother.

Is Hong Kong nice? It is. And it could be better, if only I hadn't been there for more than 10 times. I know the streets so well that some might think that I couldn't possibly be a freaking tourist. Why Hong Kong? Maybe because I'm a racist. There are Chinese people everywhere and pork proudly served at every corner of the streets. No tudungs. No halal foods. Not even the footsteps of rich Saudi women (who are typically completely covered in dark cloth), despite the amazing shopping. No bloody taxis rejecting you just because you asked them to use their fucking meter. Yeah, and no bloody Indonesians or Burmese cooking my fried Chinese noodles. Over there, I get a proper Chinese waiter serving me proper Chinese-cooked food in a proper 'pork-served' Chinese restaurant. That's how I consume, my friend. Halal? Not in a fucking thousand years.

Of course, I might be a bit extreme there. I noticed that I tend to contradict myself - by fucking the racists sometimes, and sometimes being one myself. But fuck it, I just say what I want here. And I do not want to explain any further. Offended? Fuck off to your 'halal' world-friendly blogs. You have a choice to make your choices. Decisions, decisions, decisions... time to make one yourself, your parents have done enough for you.

More photos to come? Maybe... And as I've said, I'm feeling tired.

A rendezvous in the bustling city of Hong Kong...

... with an amazing lady...

... and great food. Blissful? You bet.

Spontaneous Decisions.

I made one.

I'm flying to Hong Kong tomorrow. For a few days to be exact. Till then. Say hello to my shortest post ever. Lazy fuck, ain't I? Photos to come.

Being In The Zone.

No photos (milk) today.

Not getting the sub-headline? Don't worry, you're not supposed to. Hi again, my dear readers. How have you fucking been? Have you been eating well? Have you been shitting well? Have you been fucking well? Or have your even fucked at all? Have you been wasting your time? Or have you been doing nothing but waste time? Or are you everything I believe you to be? Guess not.

I can imagine some of your scratching your heads now. Even I do not fully comprehend what I wrote above myself. Is it bullshit? Definitely. Why am I doing it? Easy, because I simply felt like writing it. Since when was blogging merely about judging English standards? Since when do we need to refrain from using profanity when we want to? Why restrict ourselves from expressing in complete freedom? Are you THAT afraid of judgement? Are you so vain that you need your fucking proof readers and grammar cecks? It's a blog. It's yours. Play with it. Talk like those lala zais who you aspire to be. Unleash the idiotic loser within you. A blog is for expression, not for glamorous displays.

Don't put up a face. Unlike all those immature kids out there, I can fucking see through all the bullshit you put up on your face. No matter how grotesque or foul the freaking pile of faeces on your face is, I see through it all. I'm sharper than your fucking kitchen knife. I'm better at reading stupid faces than you. If you were a generic pen knife, I'm a Kyocera ceramic blade. If you were a Honda Civic, I'm a V12 Lamborghini. There's a whole world of difference and you cannot do anything about it. But that's not the point. Cut away the bullshit and be yourself. Then you'll see why at this moment, your face is full of shit. And it reeks of dog piss. Need a toilet roll? Or would you very much prefer for your shitmask to stay on?

What am I writing? You might ask. Am I being a bitch out of the blue? Yes. Am I writing some bullshit because I'm not bothered to put much thought into producing a decent blog post? Yes. You think this entire post is rather off the book? I concur. But I wrote it anyway. Because I can. Because this is my fucking blog. And I probably wrote this because I'm better than 'you'. In what way? You might irritatingly ask. Many ways, my friend. Simply too many to mention. Why? Because you're the worthless piece of shit and I'm the glaring diamond. Offended? You ought to be. Because I'm that good. Is this a stupid post? Hell yeah.

Have a good day, and welcome to Ralverd.com.

The Irony.

I had a lot of alcohol yesterday.

Champagnes, whiskies and beer. Crazy, I tell you. I can literally feel the alcohol streaming down my veins into my gut and staying there. Remember kids, alcohol makes you FAT. Don't drink if you want those slim ripped abs. Heck, drink only water and skip all those fucking sodas. Unlike you, I had a very legitimate reason to drink which I wouldn't bother explaining.

It feels like crap after a week in Malaysia. I feel slightly fatter, more plump, round, bigger, sloppier etc. The boxing practices have been doing me well, but I guess the input is just way bigger than the output, and at the rate I'm going it isn't good. I love food, and I guess many of those fat guys out there share the same interest. Poor us. I'll be trying hard, but it's hard trying to 'try hard'. Fuck it all.

Anyway, here are some of the beach photos I promised you. I actually went back to my hometown, Kuantan with my parents for a short night's stay. We didn't do much,but we did eat a lot and the food as usual, was nice. Here you go.

The hotel.

Poolside.

Young football players on their evening training.

Complimentary bowl of fruits.

The outdoor lounge.

By the beach at 6.00 p.m.

My pair of Birkenstocks.

PS: You just gotta love the flexibility and easiness of using a good point-and-shoot compact. Leica baby!