Death is, But Another Life

I felt compelled to write this yet another piece on death because this is the THIRD time I am witnessing death this semester. It doesn’t help that I am seeing a string of number 4’s everyday. Which is disturbing in itself ‘cause if you’re Asian you know what the number 4 signifies in our culture. Be it Indian or Chinese, the number 4 in the Hindu religion signifies Kethu (with his/her partner Raghu) signifies death. In Cantonese, 4 is pronounced as ‘Sei’ which also means death. So it all fits. Lemme tell you about how these strings of death relate to the number 4.

First, in late September, a coursemate of mine whom I did not know existed to begin with until his death announcement on my Psych course website, passed away in a horrific motorcycle accident. Many people mourned his death. I would admit that I felt nothing because quite frankly, I did not know the guy. Why should I mourn for someone I didn’t know? Such was my twisted logic. For a week, the frenzy of his passing was all over my course. To my surprise, the deceased boy who I did not know until his death, was dearly beloved by many. Many good, praiseful things were spoken of his person. There was a small regret in my heart, that I dismissed this person not worthy of my sympathy simply because I did not know him personally. Out of morbid fascination I managed to asked a friend of his how he died. Such was my twisted mind.

I know I had a lot of growing up to do, I just didn't know that I had a lot of catching up to do when it comes to being human. My complete lack of empathy and sympathy to the woes and plight of another person who had lost their beloved is disgusting to say the least.

Then came the incident of that boy who fell from my apartment floor in a freak accident. I felt a small fraction of sympathy for this boy because I had seen him around rascalling with his fellow friends. My sister saw him hanging around with his friends the next thing she knows, quite literally a few minutes later he had apparently plunged to his death from the 5^th floor of my apartment, in front of my apartment unit. He fell straight to the ground head first resulting in a split skull and immediate on-the-spot death. Again, this sick side of me emerged. Morbid fascination, I had. How did he fall to his death? Suicide? Murder? More than feeling sorry for the boy who lost his life and those who will grieve him, I was more interested in the details of his death.

Nope, still stupid.

Then on December 1^st, I spoke to a close Facebook friend of mine. My interactions with him had been completely within the limits of Facebook, never actually met him in person. Sure, there were plans for lunch dates to discuss psychology stuff but these plans were never seen through. Work and odd hour demands happened in such a way that I wasn't able to meet him at all. Taking for granted that we will eventually meet, we kept putting off our lunch dates.

We even made tentative plans to go hiking and swimming. I made tentative plans with him to be his swimming buddy since he recently took up swimming as a part of his fitness journey and I am a pretty deft swimmer myself, thought it’ll be those funny ‘pro-swimmer vs rookie swimmer’ relationship. =’) Boy, I would be lying if I said I hadn't daydreamed about doing the Butterfly Stroke with him to challenge him! I did, I imagined my swim date with him, the two of us competing various swimming styles. I was particularly keen on doing the Butterfly Stroke with him. Now, they remain as mere daydreams.

Yes, this close Facebook friend, who was respected and loved by many due to his natural tendency to reach out to others a helping hand, passed away on Tuesday December 3^rd in a hiking accident with his hiking buddy in the notorious Bukit Tabur hiking arena. I received the news on December 4^th at mid-evening via another friend of mine who was even closer to him. My vision dissociated from the shock of it all for a moment. “Deryk has passed on”, that was the message.

I was like whut? WTF. OMFG. My mind raced on what the heck happened, that only 3 days ago he told me about how he wanted to keep an eye on an acquaintance that showed signs of suicide. Then I got the news of his death. I was numb the whole day. Sure, I managed to focus here and there but not without him on my mind the entire time, trying to get used to idea I will never have meaningful Facebook conversations with him ever again, that I can send him Facebook messages that will never get replies. Him with his dry humour. Him with his passionate and elaborate accounts of his passions. And his major crush for my friend (the one who broke the news to me). Him with his occasional rudeness. But hey, who’s perfect.

It took me the death of my friend to wake me up from my previous selfish, twisted self who reveled in someone’s death and their accounts. It took me the passing of an important person my community of friends and acquaintances to make me realize how serious the passing of a loved one can be. All those times that I reveled in someone’s death made me feel ashamed to be a human being, that to think at my age I’d have more common sense than to have childish fascination on what is clearly an issue that requires much love, understanding and empathy.

A friend had to die for me to grow up.

Maybe on a more metaphysical level, his time on earth is due but relating his death to how I have been reacting to other deaths that I have been witnessing thus far is a serious wake up call to my person, more importantly, my mental well being, or lack thereof.

Prior to the events that led to the announcement of my friend’s death, my Facebook dash was bombarded with the news of the tragic and sudden death of Paul Walker, the star of Fast and Furious franchise. Again, with morbid fascination, I weaseled on information of how he died. Never mind that million would be genuinely mourning his passing. I just wanted to know how he died. I even watched that aftermath footage of his crash that appeared shortly on my Facebook dash. With excited giddiness.

I need professional intervention.

Then came the news of the death of my friend. This had been a serious slap on the face. Truly, I have disappointed people who look up to me. I am better than this. I will be better than this.

Did I tell you that for my Philosophy of Life and Death extra credit assignment I did a short defence on Death? I even went as far as saying “perhaps people believe in the afterlife because they want the best for their loved ones, basically death of a loved one means you lose control and closeness with that person, so in an attempt to console yourself you conjure this afterlife concept and hope they are happy there”.

Just look at that ignorant statement of a bitch who hasn't lost someone dear to her until this point.

Well, I take it back. I take it all back and I stand corrected. For the sake of my friend I now believe in the afterlife and I hope he is heaven. Because god fucking dammit, I care enough for this person to wish him the best and want the best for him.

Why are all the good people dying?

R.I.P My dear friend. Till next time. 

Disney Princess Mattel Doll Giveaway by Disney Malaysia

So I entered this Mattel Doll Contest by Disney Malaysia. I just saw it on my Facebook newsfeed and thought "Meh, it's not like I'm gonna win this shit. Let's just kill some time". So the question of the day for the contest was about Pocahontas. I answered some shit and lo and behold...

I won. 

Whut.

Nothing fancy, I think?  But clearly luck was on my side.

Well now. Isn't this pleasant! 

I was told I would only get me booty after the contests ends on the 24th November. 

I was hoping for Pocahontas but Cinderella is awesome too. Together enclosed in the parcel was a letter congratulating me.

I am kinda happy, really.

Womb Matters : Abortion

Link to picture.

It is amazing how when Mahatma Gandhi suggested vasectomy for the menfolk as a means of population control, which I think was a good idea - the men of India went berserk, as nuts as they can get. This is still criticized worldwide. Why must we cut off our balls tube, they said. Don't touch my nuts, they said.

AND THEIR VOICES WAS HEARD. The plans for compulsory vasectomy for men in India was dropped because the reaction was so virulent.

But when it is a woman who wants to have an abortion, you know, something that SHE decided for her own organs and to a certain extent, her LIFE, suddenly everyone has an opinion and a sense of entitlement to the woman's uterus. One by one would point fingers with disapproving looks chastising the woman how she's killing a life within her. Excuse me but...when a woman has a child, she is the primary caregiver. She is the one who will ultimately spend most of her life raising the kid. You don't have to find faults on why she got pregnant in the first place, that's none of your business. It is as stupid as chastising a man why doesn't he carry condoms around with him should he feel like doing a quick romp in the back alleys. It's ridiculous. So the crux of the matter is, why is it that a woman does not have a say for her organs but a man who doesn't even have a uterus somehow has power over a body part he himself does not possess? It's hypocritical on so many levels. Only those who possess an uterus, should have the right to decided on what to do with them, when to do it. A good number of men and women actively campaign against abortion without knowing that THEY'RE DEPRIVING A HUMAN BEING TO HAVE THE FREEDOM OF CHOICE. So whenever I hear someone, especially A MAN making a point on how abortion is murder...I feel all the more necessary to campaign for compulsory vasectomy. Just imagine an alternate universe where men wanted tie their testicles tubes but the women were against it because millions of potential life would be wasted in a single squirt of ejaculation. You're probably laughing right about now. That's impossible. That's absurd. What's absurd is some people depriving the physical and mental readiness of when the woman finally decides to be a mother. Do you know the toll it takes on a woman's health when she was forced by circumstance to have a baby when she's not ready for it? Society, for the most part is punitive towards a woman conceiving unwanted pregnancy. Who and what gave you the right to decide for my reproductive organs and what goes on in it? Who are YOU? We're boasting to be a civilized era yet a woman is still deprived of basic choices that by right should be entitled to her by default. I am not pro-abortion. I just believe in freedom of choice, a result of choice for the woman to still be respected when she made a life decision that's best for HER.

What It Means to Me to be a Second Child

You have been warned. Absolutely whiny post to follow but these came straight from the heart.

So what it means for me to be a second child?

It means that I am secondary.

Secondary investment, secondary thought, secondary inclusion when it comes to decision making, secondary in importance. Second to everything that is first.

I am an after-thought.

When you are a second child, you probably played with hand me downs. Toys especially. The sibling before you played with the fresh, newly out of the box toy and when s/he grew out it, often times you get the well-used, a little scratchy and possible slightly malfunctioning toy that wasn't as clean as it was first unboxed. If you requested for a new toy - something that you can call your own, you'd hear the familiar "you have your brother's/sister's toys" or "what's wrong with your brother's/sister's toys?. Well, for starters...it's not mine. Implicitly we seconders are conditioned to believe that we are not worth an investment for our parents, to not be deemed worthy enough to have the respect of having your own set of toys instead of inheriting ones that belonged to someone else. Am I not worthy enough of an investment to get my own toys? Am I not worthy enough of an investment to have my own clothes and not wear something that was essentially bought with someone else in mind? Why am I supposed to be happy with someone else's leftovers? If you had no intention of giving me the respect that you displayed for your first child(ren) when it come to my material needs...why on earth did you have me?

Most seconders like me often know this in our hearts. But those who dare say it, are often labelled will-full and spoiled. Well, I guess I am. I guess I demand to be treated like you treat your first born. Maybe I actually never liked those old toys, because my taste is completely different. But since you have told me to literally not to give you extra expenses - never mind that I am a completely different human being with my own tastes. I sucked up this feeling of implicitly being sidelined because heck, I am just a spare.

Sometimes, your name doesn't belong to you. Confused? The people in my immediate environment sometimes don't use my name to call me. They use my sister's name. Because my parents are dumbfucks who named their second kid the same as their first. Who cares about diversity right. Who names their children the same name??? I am so often addressed with my sister's name that it seems pointless to have my own name. I was given my own name when I was born, yet so few are smart enough to address me as such.

These relatives and sometimes my mum (only my dad ever calls me correctly using my name)...they would address me using my sister's name. When I do not respond, I am called rude. Why the fuck would I respond to a name that is not mine? How does that remotely make any sense? On the times I am in a more foul mood, I'd snap and go on a tirade and demand that my name is so-and-so and you'd better call me that, I am told that I have ill-feelings to my sister. Well, if you have given me a name and did not respect me enough to address me using it...then why am I not supposed to be upset when I am not referred to by my name? It says something about your intelligence, or the lack of it, as well. My name is my identity, for you to not use my name, it's you not respecting my identity and my person. So, yes, my reactions are completely normal. Fuck you.

I am not even deemed important enough to be addressed by my name. Fuck you. Fuck you, very much.

When I receive hand me downs in the form of clothes, I often reject it. Wanna know why? Maybe, gee, it's not my fucking taste?
"But this is expensive!"
And? I don't want it. Deal with it. What, just because when you bought it for your first kid it was expensive I am supposed to appreciate it? You didn't buy that for me. That does not belong to me, never did. I wasn't in thought when you bought that for your first born. You are giving me this 'expensive' rag and shoving to me 'this is expensive' excuse because you want what's convenient for YOU. I am convenient. Well, I am not your convenience. I am your child. I deserve more respect that some old clothes that was worn by someone, old toys that someone else 'loved' and I'm supposed to be happy with because darn, I don't have the right to my own entitlement.

So this is something I would like to tell parents everywhere. If you produced a second child, keep in mind that there's a good chance that they're not happy with those old clothes and toys that were used by your first kid. Deep in their heart, they'd wish you thought better of them, thought they were also a worthy investment to have their own belongings. A teddy bear that was bought with them in mind, the Barbie that was chosen with them in mind, the toy cars and other stuff that was chosen with them in mind. We would like to think we are important enough as your first born too.

Think.

Death Under Your Nose

Yeap, a boy from my apartment fell from the 5th floor in a freak accident. And the best part is he fell from in front of my house. Gruesome details to ensue so leave if blood makes you queasy.

When my sister got home on 12 November 2013 at around 5.30 pm. She saw a bunch of boys playing at the other end of our apartment unit. Thinking nothing of it, she entered home as usual and got changed. A few minutes passed when my mum heard a loud BANG! Like someone shut the door loudly in anger. We thought nothing of it really; sometimes, someone who lives a few floors above us frequently has nasty fights...so we thought it's just them going at it again.

We made plans to thread our eyebrows in our local salon, so we headed out at roughly 6.30pm-ish. As we exited our door, we could see from our 5th floor that there was a crowd and some policemen. So since some incident obviously occurred below us, we just looked down from the railing and...
someone was sprawled on the ground with blood everywhere.

Mum almost screamed and we managed to shut her up. Like seriously, everyone else was quiet and calm in handling the matter and she's going berserk. How embarrassing.

She was shaken and reeling from the horror of seeing someone, freshly dead, for the lack of a better word. We went to the salon anyway, because...what else can we do? Hang around and watch the deceased in morbid fascination? On the way to the salon my excited mother was speculating this and that because really, we thought it was suicide. My mum speculated that the loud bang she heard before was the deceased blowing up before jumping from wherever floor his house was. I was doing my thesis back then so I offered to be serviced first (the eyebrow threading no dirty thoughts) so I can go home and continue my thesis nightmare.

On my way home. I saw another police car entering my apartment complex. I was curious, this is probably suicide but I guess they weren't ruling out homicide as not everyone who fell to their death killed themselves ya know someone might've pushed them and shit.

So I saw many people flocking towards my apartment block where the incident took place, saw a girl crying, I assumed it's the deceased's sister or something.

I know someone will eventually pry out the true story for this incident so I got on the lift, and went to my floor and saw some officers taking pictures of the area in MY apartment unit. Like the officers were at my front door literally. At this point, my mind went blank. Why are they here? And one of the officers pointed to my apartment unit and asked "did he (the deceased) live here?". Then I said, "No, I live here!". Then he left. Immediately the neighbour living next to me told me that the boy fell from the railing that in front of my house. I froze.

"You mean he's not from the top floors?" I asked.

"No, he's the friend of that boy who lives at the other end of the apartment unit", she said.

I just froze. The bunch of boys that my sister passed without thinking twice...it was one of them ??

The lady said, they were just hanging out at the railing in front of my house, when one of them who were sitting on the railing fell off of it and died.

So the loud bang my mum heard wasn't someone shutting the door in anger...it was the impact of the boy falling to his death ?

Talk about macabre.

She literally HEARD someone die.

So I excused myself and the front neighbour stopped me and said pretty much the same thing only that she saw the boy without cloth covering his body. Luckily we did. Or else my mum would have had conniptions.

So this time it was my time to shake because holy shit someone died falling from in front of MY house. Literally.

I waited till my mum and sis came back and told them that the boy fell from OUR FLOOR and saw their eyes and mouth shaping an 'O' and just staring at my blankly in my face.

Mum was again flustered and sister was like holy shit I passed those kids not moments ago!

The body was taken at around 9pm-ish.

From that day onwards, my mum slept in my sister's room because she was so shaken.

The moral of the story is - life is a fleeting moment. One moment she saw the boys just rascal-ing around like normal teenage boys and the next thing they knew they were looking at their friends' dead body, sprawled on the ground, skull split and blood splattered. The boy was 14 years old.

So please people, always cherish your loved one. Yes you may fight with them and have nasty thoughts afterwards but crux of the matter is you don't really want that to happen so don't wait till that happens. Start now.

Peace out.

link to picture.

Teacup Monstrosity

Aren't they cute as buttons? It's coz they really are just a little bigger than average buttons, probably. In case you're wondering, these are actual dogs mutated from toy breeds to create another subset of 'breeds' small enough to fit in your pockets or handbags. The reason to create these genetically mutated pitiful creatures that actually doesn't even qualify as 'breeds' by kennel clubs is still in the haze. But underneath all those foofiness, the means to create these pitiful victims of human greed is terrifying.

Scroll and tell me from the bottom of your heart that these 'dogs' deserve to be what they are.

This modified chihuahua's eyes are too big for it's skull that it's bulging.

Hope it doesn't pop out fo' realz.

I got the following passage from a PSA post circulating from tumblr. This information was disclosed by a tumblr user so credits go to her.

~***~

Do you want a tiny or healthy dog?

You might all have heard about teacups and thought, well if this isn’t the cutest thing! 

… Well, no, what goes on behind the curtains most certainly is not cute. What goes on inside of their tiny bodies is not cute. These dogs sure do have a dark story.

You see, there is no such thing as a “reputable teacup breeder”. Why you might ask, well, teacup is not a recognised size of dog or a breed of its own. You might go on a teacup breeders website and see “FCI teacup puppies for sale!” … it’s a lie. FCI, or any other kennel clubs, do most certainly not promote or register this size of dog. This isn’t even a breed. Got my point now?

Well, now let’s move to the breeding of them. Their problem starts before they are born. Before a litter is planned, the breeder finds two, cute undersized dogs (preferably under four pounds). Too often, the parents are closely related. That only increases the risk of series of genetic issues. Then, the mating begins…

Most females are bred on the ninth to fifteen day of their heat cycles. Eggs can be fertilized for up to 72 hours any of these breeding. Because of that… you puppies can be conceived a week after the first ones. When the puppies that were first conceived are fully matured and ready to be born, the younger ones  obviously come too, week premature (that’s a lot for a dog). Often the older puppies are put down or worse, killed, so the premature ones are the only one who get to live. 

But it’s not even guaranteed if the puppies or female will live… The female’s body is so small it causes many complications, especially if the female is carrying more than two puppies. Often the puppies survives… but the mother doesn’t. 

Now, the puppies are born. There, their tough life begins. 

Many teacup puppies are starved so they don’t grow. That does explain how tiny and fragile they look. Breeders might also use other ways to stop the growing, in example, by using no fat, protein, rices… only food with no nutrition. Puppies are also often sold at three or four weeks, but the breeders claim their older. That can cause a lot of emotional problems.

Now, move on to the health problems.

The most common one is hypoglycemla, which means they have too low blood sugar level. It can cause several seizures and death very quickly. Because of this problems, teacups need to be fed few times a day. This can also cause digestive problems. 

Then. the other really common problem, hydrocephalus. That means they have water on their brain. It causes too much pressure on the brain. Symptoms are painful, but they include; Vomiting, seizures, intense headache, and trouble walking. It also causes mental disability and tunnel vision… and it may cause death. 

Other common health problems are live shunts, serious heart problems and respiratory problems. 

Teacups cannot regulate their body temperament, so they get easily cold and teacups dying due to cold is not unheard of.

Then of course, their tiny body is very fragile. Their bone structure is very poorly built.

They do get hurt easily, and if you accidentally step on your teacup… it might get severely hurt, or even worse. They can break bones if the jump off the couch, or if they try to jump on the couch. If you have kids, they might want to pick them up and who knows how that will end. Larger dogs can also play rough and harm them. Everything can hurt them and they need to be monitored. 

Then of course, it’s a fraud. There is no such thing as a registered teacup, or AKC teacup or whatever. In fact, there are no such thing as a teacup- they’re not a breed on their own, and people are fighting against them.

Cuteness can kill too easily. 

~***~

We humans have broken yet another dimension of lowliness and greed.

Smelly - No - More Deodorant Stinks.

Literally. Find out why.

I promised to make a review about their much-hyped deodorant after their Dutox-Tea review that I had received as a free sample from buying this deodorant. The Dutox Tea is a masterpiece by itself so have a look at it.

This deodorant claims to be used by ancient Asians as an effective body odour combatant. It's mineral properties is said to reduce the risk of breast cancer in women. I see.

Let's make a quick check list.

Reduce body odour?
For some time, yes.
Long lasting?
Are you fucking kidding me. This shit doesn't qualify to be a deodorant.
How about the smell?
I am literally too traumatized to write this as it makes me think back an unpleasant olfactory memory. You see, this deo doesn't have any fragrance so what it does? As you use it, it takes the smell of  YOUR ARMPIT. 
Your sweaty, stale, bacteria-filled armpit. I am fucking done with this deo, you hear me? DONE.
How do you use it?
You have to wet this shit under water, moisten it and rub on your armpit. You have to wet the deo mineral block several times to really slather them on. So not only it is time consuming but impractical. Most people have deos on their vanity table not the bathroom counter. It takes a no brainer that you could always ways the mineral slab with soap to get rid of the armpit-y smell. But seriously, people usually want their morning routine as quickly as possible. 

Overall, this piece of shit is merely a well-marketed garbage that does not serve it purpose. It's pretty packaging only looks good on your vanity table as a decoration. I am keeping this but will only use it perhaps on travel or something. It's small and light enough for that.

DON'T BUY THIS OR ANY PRODUCT FROM TOTAL IMAGE IT'S COMPLETE GARBAGE.