I only feel a tinge of sadness. The only way any of this can get any better is if I can drag the whole family to the UK with me. That way, I don't ever have to come back here because there isn't anything to come back to.

Now we've become crime central.
Crime No. 1: A sixth former was brutally raped and left for dead near the flyover bridge next to Metro Kajang.
Crime No. 2: A stall worker was hit, dragged and thrown into Sg. Jelok (which is just as bad as Sungai Segget, if you're from JB) near Jalan Bukit
Crime No. 3: Major bank robbery at OCBC Bank, resulting in the death of two security guards.

There was a time when my buddies at IKATAN would literally turn down their noses at going to Kajang for anything, except the Czip Lee Bookstore which sells stationery dirt cheap.

About a week ago I felt a twinge of sadness for having had to leave a life I had gotten accustomed to for a year.. not so much the life at Muadzam but leaving the students I had become to think of as my little brothers and sisters. But that quickly turned to joy as I realised I would not have to brave the morning dawns to drive to Muadzam any more - well.. for 3 years at least.

Thinking about England got me pretty excited.. ever since being posted to Muadzam I'd been facing some minor health problems.. perhaps due to the way I internalised stress and my workaholic work ethics.. I used to arrive at work before 7am and stayed on until 9pm; basically because there wasn't much else left to do. Not to mention the added pressure of workplace politics and the management; well, it all came in a nice neat little package that was sure to drive me to an asylum had I not deviced a way to leave.

Went out for dinner last night with Shick, Aca and Fisz.. on the way back I can't remember what wrong turning I took; but I ended up taking an alternative road to Kajang which bypassed two 'townships' where two people that mean something to me live. One, a person whom I want but I know I can never get (unless he decides to 'change'); and secondly someone who meant a lot to me in the past; and perhaps may still mean something, albeit in a subliminal way.

I really, honestly do have some more clever things to say and witty things to write - I have yet to blabber on about my great novel that I am about to write this November, for one - but every time I get a go on the computer, either everyone is around me; or by the time everyone's everywhere else, I am too knackered to stay long here. As is the case at this very moment.

With which I shall withdraw and catch some shut eye.

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Wednesday, January 16, 2002
Every Monday morning, I drive my weathered, beaten Kancil through the hills and valleys of Negeri Sembilan, before trekking across the lorry infested Felda roads that lead me to my destination in Muadzam Shah, Pahang. It is an almost routine pilgrimage; one I do without fail, and one I do alone.

It is not the most pleasant of journeys. There is not much of a view for me to appreciate, and nothing really happens amidst the masses of oil palm trees, fruits ripe for the picking. But I have come to appreciate this, because it gives me time to think and reflect when I am not busy trying to evade crazy lorry drivers who insist on driving in the middle of the road.

I turn 25 this year. And I have come to realise that I am now a long long way from the image that I always see myself as - that of a fresh-faced 17 year old, somewhat cynical but ready to take on the world. Suffice to say, in between those eight years, the world has taken me on and it has won. I have wrestled and grappled with the cards that life has thrown at me, and while there have been times I have emerged victorious, those times are far and few in between. Life's Lesson that I didn't learn in STF Number 1: You
never get what you want. You may think you have gotten it, but the packaging looks better than what's on the inside.

I think about things and I realise that there are moments which I forgot to capture that may never arise again. Pictures I forgot to take, people I forgot to write to, phone numbers I forgot to ask for. I think about my life when I was in high school. Running around in my white and turqoise uniform, juggling 9 unrelated subjects which to me was the greatest burden alive ( I still think it is). I think about myself when I was in university, and when I was in England.

But most of all, my solitary morning drives allow me to think about things I forgot I ever thought about. Things that I may have repressed in my memory, or things I were repressed due to situations. Past dreams, past inspirations, past ambitions that have fallen by the wayside. I think about my innocence lost, and a longing to revisit it again.