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The Malaysian Politics

I am here now, lying down on the firm and com­fort­able hotel bed, exhaust­ed and yet ‘enjoy­ful’ typ­ing this entry of the blog post.

I have been out of the coun­try for a very long time, that I have lost count already. My pass­port has been abused and harassed numer­ous times, that I think that abuse might turn into an enjoy­ment. One do won­der, do the custom’s offi­cers enjoyed spank­ing the on the visitor’s pass­ports when they embark into the coun­try.

Here I am, in Welling­ton, New Zealand. I must say, I have met a lot of peo­ple from all over the world, From Argenti­na, to Brazil right up to New Zealand.

I could say that I can’t wait to get back to Malaysia, back to my not so clos­et self, back to all the hyp­o­crit­i­cal peo­ple, back to all that polit­i­cal bull­shits. Yes, I have been fol­low­ing the Per­ak by-elec­tions, and I can tell you, I think these idiots should just do the world a favor, and bury them­selves.
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I want


![Lovers Kissing](http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3441/3253782803_abea935301.jpg “Lovers Kiss­ing”)

Was it real­ly that bad?

The oth­er night, while I was try­ing to get to bed, I think of the boy again. I don’t know why, but nowa­days it seems like a habit to me. Per­haps my body is get­ting real­ly used to this by now. I mean, how can it not be?

For the past 9 months I have been try­ing, try­ing to get a hold of myself, try­ing to grip on to some­thing. Noth­ing.

For the past 9 months, all I could think was, how can I con­tin­ue to live like this, how could I con­tin­ue to do any­thing. I was afraid; afraid to get out and have fun, afraid to make new friends because I was scared that I might fall in love again. I was afraid of falling in love.

I thought it would be a good thing, to fall in love again, to be kiss­ing some­one, get­ting kissed back. If only my pil­low could hug me back when I hug my pil­low, if only that mag­i­cal moment hap­pens, I would not mind just hug­ging on to my pil­low.

Yes, I was think­ing about it, should I just go away in an acci­dent? But I was afraid of pain. What if I wasn’t going fast enough, what if I had to suf­fer lat­er? What if, I destroyed my face? NO!

I don’t want that. I want to die in an open cas­ket, I want peo­ple to see my last look, I want peo­ple to miss me, but I am dead, would I still feel that way? I doubt.

I am afraid of dying, and yet, there is this part of me that says I want to be.

I want to be kissed, I want to be loved. I want to be hugged.

That’s all I want.

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Missing in action

It seems like peo­ple noticed that when I have stopped blog­ging for a while there.

Well, I did not do it with any inten­tion; I was mere­ly busy with stuffs back home.

Chi­nese New Year cel­e­bra­tion has been great. It is a time where meet­ing cousins is nev­er a task, but a sheer plea­sure. I mean, who would be bur­dened to be see­ing their cute adorable cousin to grown up to be a hand­some and most impor­tant­ly legal, young man?

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