Some old film scans

Faces

Tried my hand at drawing faces. I can only draw them in parts. And I love to draw them using ball pens.

I know for a fact that people acknowledge your existence because you're different. This could mean they end up respecting you or, making fun of you. I don't know. Society has their own way of looking at the uncommon.

But in life, I've observed, sometimes working hard doesn't always guarantee success. These days, your connections help you gain success or you inherit some fortune, but, really, that's cheating. It's unfair that sometimes success ends up becoming a game of "who's got more friends"... I don't know. I don't think I want to be successful that way. The way I see it, you're not rightfully earning your place.

But then this is just an opinion because, there are some people who do get this "cheat" and have worked hard or eventually do to maintain or get to where they are, so that's fine. I respect you. But stay humble. and don't forget that success isn't all that easy to obtain.

Yas' sketches aren't so bad.

I've learned that it's okay to share with people your sketches. I used to run to the next room whenever someone wanted to have a look at my sketchbook. Really. But recently I've figured - with the help of friends and family - that I am not too bad at sketching and I should share. :) 

My dad's old slides.

A joke from my dad.

There's this guy. He's eating mee(noodles) outside of his house and a guy walks by and sees him.

He asks the noodle-eating guy "Why are you eating mee outside?"

and the guy replies.

"That's because I dont have IndoMie"

The joke's pretty "malaysian" since i don't know of any other places where they sell IndoMie branded noodles.

Life as Yas.

Hello, it's almost the end of February and I still haven't posted anything new. Sorry for that.

For this post I want to talk about myself. Not in depth, but just a part, no, a huge part of my personality that's always bent on getting me into ridiculously-unfortunate incidents (i don't know the actual word for it). Since I can't think up anything interesting to talk about, i might as well.

For the past year or so, I've been thinking of things that I could tell my kids one day about the stuff I did as a kid. I know it's too early to think about this but hell, I'll be 20 this year and that just makes me feel old. Anyway, my parents all have these cool stories to tell us about like how they used to rake up leaves and then dance around the pile like a red indian and all that. but me? I have lots of stories too but they're..different. Haha.

I'm just very..blur and clumsy.  My friends would ask this first every chance we got to hang out, "Ada cerita baru sik, yas?" (Translates to: Anything new, yas?) and the evening would end up with me story-telling and them..laughing at the end.

I woke up today, as usual, getting up and then back down to lay down for a few more minutes before my mom starts nagging about terrible discipline. My mom would ask me to start her car for her so she wouldn't have to wait later. I had to move my car too later on if she needed to get out of the porch. So when she was about to leave for work. I got into my car and parked to the side. She just decided to park outside while she had some breakfast. I got back into the house and lay on the couch with my blanket and bolster for a little while, eyes still heavy. Then suddenly as i was about to lie down, i smelled dog poo. I sniffed. and discovered....

I had some on my foot. I cursed under my breath. "Shit."

That woke me up. Cause I realised I'd been walking into the house and left a trail of poop. yuck.
I had stepped in poo when I went out to reverse my car earlier. But was too groggy to bother about watching where i step. Shit indeed.

I had to clean up and stuff. yeah. My blankets and bolster were victims of such an unfortunate incident.  Could not go back to sleep after. but still sleepy.

That's not all though.

Went to the toilet to wash up. Walked back out realising our sink had no water and walked over to the laundry sink instead, picking up my toothbrush and face wash from the toilet on my way there.
Squeezed some toothbrush. and as I put the toothbrush near my face, what struck me first about the toothbrush first was "Why does it smell so funny?"...but "Oh well". Brush. Brush. Brush.

Finished brushing and washing my face. Back to the toilet to put my things back, I realised, this time, "What's my toothbrush doing on the shelf over there?" Looks at the toothbrush in my hand. "Whose is this?"

It was Azri's. (My 12 year old brother) That explains the funny smell of dried saliva on the toothbrush I had used.

Next thing I knew I had grabbed a bottle of Colgate Plax (mouthwash) and was at the laundry sink gargling my mouth out. Without diluting the mouthwash. -.-

Azri came out from the toilet. and asked him "Azri, did you brush your teeth?" (note that azri is famous for not brushing his teeth. kids. heh)

"Yes." He said, without hesitating.

"Now, I know you're lying azri."

Then he gave me a toothy smile, like he was guilty and asked me "How you know?"

"Because I used your toothbrush!"

Things like this happen to me almost everyday. My mom tells me I have an interesting life. Haha.