I believe in making choices rather than believing in Fate, so I choose you Michelle Low. I choose you. Because in the end, no one else matters except you. No one.

No title available
tumblr dot com

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Claire Keane
RMH

Origami Around
No title available
styofa doing anything
Stranger Things
we're not kids anymore.
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Misplaced Lens Cap
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
DEAR READER

pixel skylines

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Peter Solarz
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Cosmic Funnies
Sweet Seals For You, Always
seen from United States
seen from France

seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia

seen from Japan

seen from Türkiye
seen from Italy
seen from Israel

seen from South Korea

seen from United States

seen from Spain
seen from Türkiye
seen from T1
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Qatar

seen from United States

seen from Italy
seen from Malaysia

seen from South Korea
@milkmanlai
I believe in making choices rather than believing in Fate, so I choose you Michelle Low. I choose you. Because in the end, no one else matters except you. No one.
Perhaps one of the few things I'm truly happy about in this life would be meeting you. I know I may get a little demanding or a little short tempered over certain events (or most events), but I'm glad you stayed by my side all these while and giving me unconditional support, even when you are thousands of miles away. I love you. I really do.
dreamer
Minds fly asunder, and differentiates itself into small, tiny fragments, with its contents disfigured and spilled on the dirt ridden walls. It is dead. It, as it may seem, are flowers of eternal slumber. It wreathes itself in the light of the Sun, and relishes the pearlescent surface the Moon brings in the sky. Dead as it may seem, the Mind works in various motions, and never ceases to oil itself in order to grind the endless thoughts that are kept in secrecy. Powers that are beyond me render me useless, and I am a shell, a notion that has long passed its time in this world. I am weak. It is weak. In two more days, the sun will no longer rise. The sunny orange yolk that emboldens the meaning of Day will be replaced by the darkness of the Night, and it will remain there until the end of my days. Dream has kept its word, Nd reality shifts in with glares that pierces hearts. Hearts of men. Hearts of the sky. Hearts of the heart. Dead, dead and dead. Everything withers, and so will my heart. The glow of the good is now but gone. Such is the life of a dreamer with dreams.
five years
What is innocence? Innocence is sitting in your best friend's car while his father drives you to your school, babbling about nonsense and whatnot. Innocence is kissing the first girl you ever liked, thinking you will last with her till the end of days. Innocence is spending hours after hours honing the craft of playing basketball, and smiling as the sun hits you with its unforgiving smirk of heat with your peers. Innocence is kissing the second girl you ever liked, thinking that it will not end the same as it did for the first. Innocence is hanging out with your friends in a nearby mall, gossiping about girls, games, parents, and various teenage problems you can possibly think of when you were sixteen. Innocence is waking up everyday with a purpose, and that is to enjoy the rest of the day with the people you like and do the things you love to do. Innocence is going anywhere and everywhere safely, with no worries and without a hitch. Innocence is walking confidently, and your best friend walking alongside you. Innocence is reaching out to the people you trust, and knowing that they will help you overcome any problems, big or small. Innocence is smiling, and smiling constantly as you let the day pass by you. When I left Singapore, Innocence died. Innocence, as its perfectly imperfect body laid still in its wake of its death, whispered its last words as it faded into nothingness. 'Your dreams will die alongside me.' Five years later that day, here I lay. I drive my own car, with no passenger while talking to myself. I kiss the girl I love for the first time in my life, and fearing she will leave me for someone else better. I stare into the wide screens of my laptop, watching snippets of basketball instead of having anyone to play with. I hang out in nearby malls alone, oblivious to judging stares and oblivious to the human race in this part of the world. I wake up everyday feeling nothing but dread, for I feel dreams are far better than waking up without a purpose. I walk into street after street, fearing that Death will take me for a ride in its world. I talk to the phone when I have problems, because there is no one that could help me on the spot. I still smile, and I applaud myself for having such talent in acting. I am dead. I should be dead. Am I dead? 'Yes.' 'You're already dead five years ago.'
asphyxia
Round and round again, I tumble and fall, reaching to the deepest and darkest part of myself as I struggle to find a plane to place my feet.
I have been moving from place to place, country to country, and yet I do not find these 'experiences' gratifying or wonderful. I find it asphyxiating and akin to breathing water. I am drowning in reality, a sphere of some sort that clarifies everything except human emotions and relationships.
Perhaps the darkest of those days were back in 2011.
I was lost, dead in the water and attempting to push my legs to get out of it. I cannot bear to dive back into those memories, as they hurt, and the time and feelings being consumed were far too many too be handled. I made friends, I lost friends, I made friends again, and I lost them all. I thought I fell in love, and in the end I know I did not. Time spirals down into a cone of uncertainty, as my actions and words were not the sharpest of blades, nor was it the tidiest of waves. I fought and fought to regain my foothold, a place in this land full of supposed wonders and the mother of corruption and deceit.
2011 was possibly the worst year in my life, and I cannot forget the things I did to impress others or to impress myself. Maybe I was too shy, or was too hasty in the words that come out of my mouth, but as drops and drops of watery remarks made by me seeped into the brains of my acquaintances, I cannot help but wonder:
Have I made the right choice?
2010 was undoubtedly the best year of my life. One less parent, yes, but I found out how it must have felt to have my first crush, or to have friends who cared about me, and genuinely wished me well. I finally learned how to play basketball properly, and earned certain respect from certain basketball courts around my area. To delve and to scoop up these memories are heartbreaking, for I am now broken and susceptible to everything.
I can't breathe. I really can't.
Yes
I don't really say it all the time but I love you. Come back soon, alright? (:
My life as an ordinary Magic: The Gathering player
As a human whose life was mired by personal failures and dead promises, I was not keen in breaking new grounds. I was afraid. I was mentally dead. I was just... Not living.
That changed when I began to play Magic: The Gathering.
It was on a February last year when I started to play this amazing card game. My friend, Alex, had a bunch of old cards and an Affinity deck that he claimed to still work. He helped me construct a BG deck, and then proceeded to destroy me with Cranial Plating attached to an Ornithopter.
It took me a few more losses to his deck before I got the grasp of it. Soon enough, I did a few tweaks to that BG deck and then finally defeated him with Overrun.
Both decks were terrible in comparison to the other decks that were out there at that time, but I had a great time. A few days of playing, and I was already addicted to this very profound game. Every game was different, and with different variables comes different results. It was addled with rules, and with restrictions comes ways to go around it, breaking the walls of why the rules were set in the first place.
Soon, I purchased my first deck; the Rakdos event deck from the Return to Ravnica Block. I opened a few booster packs as a result and found that I cracked a Jace, Architect of Thought.
Of course, I did the dumbest thing ever, and traded it for a bunch of junk rares.
It was not until I played my first FNM (or Friday Night Magic, where other humans gathered to play the game semi-competitively) that I realized my humongous mistake. I was overwhelmed by Jaces around the board by many Esper/Bant Control players, and there was no chance my Rakdos deck could stand to it.
A few more FNMs and with much support from my other MTG playing friends that I made in that short span of time, I revamped my deck and created an Esper deck, with this Jace inside. My favorite card from the Esper Control decklist would be Nephalia Drownyard.
As time went by and play-testing my Esper deck with my Rakdos deck, I improved, albeit in a small way. I started from being constantly last in FNM to the middle of the pack, and stuck there for quite a while.
Soon, with the Theros block around the corner, I decided to go for most of the prerelease sessions, and learned to draft the Limited format the hard way: getting myself kicked in the ass by copious amounts of Phalanx Leaders on the board.
Desiring a change for my deck, I decided to take a huge risk and went for Naya Midrange for the Standard format.
I flopped. Badly.
No amount of Domri Rades or Stormbreath Dragons could save me from losing. I was periodically losing to practically any deck, and I could not tweak my deck any better than even Brian Kibler. It was then when I realized I make very poor decisions on the board and would have never be able to pilot a proper Midrange deck due to my tendency to vomit creatures out without thinking.
After several WNMs, FNMs and constant ass-whooping from my peers, even when I did mastered how to play a Midrange deck properly, I could never forgive myself for losing that many games because of me being impatient with my creature spells.
It was one of the most depressing moments of 2013 during that period of time, but I found my true and only Messiah who came in and saved me from the losses I had accumulated all these while.
Craig Wescoe!
Craig's White Weenie deck was awe inspiring, and really made me love decks with White in it compared to other decks. Soon, I took his decklist and recovered from my losing slump.
With the help of Precinct Captain and some really awesome aggressive White cards, I found myself loving MTG more and more, and wins were continuing to rack up as I play more games.
However, during the Born of The Gods set, my love for MTG waned slightly.
It was another depressing moment in 2013: I was working from 12 to 10 in a game shop, I broke up with my girlfriend and because I missed so many FNMs, I did not know where to begin to alter my deck or do anything, if at all.
I was lost, and I briefly stopped MTG for a while. I thought I would never touch the game again.
It was not until I found the girl that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with that I knew that I could never let this game go.
I had to play. I have to play. I need to play. Selling most of my old cards, I began to return to the local MTG scene by making a Jeskai Control deck when Khans of Tarkir was officially legal in Standard.
With my budget being restrained by many other variables, I could not purchase any other cards to further enhance the Control version of the Jeskai deck. Thus, I switched it to the Tempo deck that appeared in the Pro Tour: KTK, and found myself winning a game or two again.
As time went by, and with a new form of the Jeskai deck appearing out of nowhere and popularized by Yuuya Watanabe in the World Championships, it took the local scene by storm. Soon, everyone and anyone who was not piloting an Abzan Midrange was piloting a Jeskai Tokens deck that was both violent and cranky in the math. Fun was instantly sapped out of the game, and the meta was almost only reserved to these two decks. Almost anyone I know was playing these two decks exclusively, and I decided to make a huge change and leap in my MTG playing life: switching to Abzan Aggro.
I would like to clarify why was it a huge leap in my opinion; I never liked White, Green and Black in the same deck before. It seemed too clunky for me, and I liked the whole synergy of constantly doing something relevant every turn like slapping a Soldier of the Pantheon during the Theros block and baiting my opponent to use his or her removal to get rid of that pest.
Now, I know Abzan Aggro was the one of the first Abzan deck being thought of by many pros around the world, and then they ditched it for the much clunkier but very efficient Midrange version. Undeterred by my peers, I piloted and made the Aggro version just a few days ago, using the money I got from selling the Jeskai components to many other players, and in my opinion, it was and still is the best choice I have made in MTG for a while.
It was fun, aggressive and fitted the way I wanted to play MTG. I would like to think that I will probably pilot this deck till the Fate Reforged set, where the meta will once again change.
With many twists and turns, MTG has been a roller coaster ride, and it is a blessing to get to play this game, even when I still have so much to learn. Hopefully, I could meet Craig Wescoe and get him to sign my Precinct Captains while taking about a hundred pictures of him and me together holding a Plains. Wild bucket list, but it's a humane thing to hope, right?
Well, this is the end of my weird post. Guess I am just nervous for the coming PPTQs that I would be playing in. Here's to more of playing MTG, and hopefully still play for many years to come!
P.S:
My favorite card of all time. No words can express how much I love to see this little bugger in my starting hand back when I was playing Control.
Sometimes, I lay on my bed, thinking about the stars and what lies beyond the science of it, but most of the time, I really think of the times when I'm back. Back to where I belong. Don't get me wrong; I do not hate Malaysia, nor do I dislike it. I just feel that I am that piece of jigsaw puzzle that never would have fitted in if I wanted to in this town. I am a lonely drifter; a man, a boy, but one with no armor to protect me from the realities that lie in this land. Perhaps I do not accept loneliness or the severe lack of friendship values in where I am at now, or perhaps I am just a coward who just wants to be where I am, to be free of my shackled mind and my faintly beating heart. I am not as strong as I appear to be. I need my friends, but when your friends treats you the same as their toilet bowl, where they would only need it when they need to take a dump, then where is the love? Where is the tangible threads that holds us together. Malaysia is my home, no doubt, but is it where I belong? Is it where I feel free? No. Singapore, albeit being a bit too certificate/qualifications-based and constantly bashing foreigners, is my real and perhaps only place that I would wanna stay in. Friendships are forged there with iron and steel, and just about anything there suits me from head to toe. The people, the roads and most importantly, the brazen character that made Singapore it is today, would still seduce me today with its ever lingering charms. Many yearn to leave that island, many complained about certain policies or behaviors that are displayed by their politicians or famous celebrities, but no matter what they do will never shake my faith for that small country. How about Malaysia, you wonder? Well... I can only say that no matter what I do to fit in in this complicated land, I will always, and will forever be, 'that guy'. Not a Malaysian or anything that resembles it, but just another passerby whom no one bothers to remember or think about even when I'm that toilet bowl that they constantly shit on. Always.
I miss having a life. I miss being me. I miss Singapore. But more importantly, I miss you.
returning to the fold
I wish I had friends. You know, humans who slap you on the back, gives you a high five, lends a helping hand in almost everything you do if you need their help, or just basically be there. Physically or not.
I don't. Which depresses me actually.
Everyone would go 'why don't you go out and make friends!' or 'make the first move'. Evidently, they are not my friends, because I have constantly made the first move, and consistently too, from asking them out to just creating opportunities just for my acquaintances and I to get acquainted.
What I do know is that to be a friend means to communicate, and to communicate to anyone in this digital era is akin to slaughtering their pets online. It is near to impossible.
I am returning to my original form; in the womb of my mum's. Feeding and sifting through life and death, and hoping for a day to finally be recognized as a part of something. My life is going on a U-turn, and there is no way to stop it.
Friends? What friends?
perks of sleeping lately
The future is but an arm's length away, and I decided to squander my life under the misery of not knowing what is to come. What is to take in. To be honest, I like my life being planned out by others. Following a schedule is much easier than carving out a road for yourself, and thus, my life in Singapore was much, much more fruitful than. It is here in Malaysia. From the day of receiving your O level results to choosing your path in life, all the decisions were made on a piece of paper as you cross out your options. The road was laid out for you; it was so easy, so simple and so direct. You may call me a coward for taking the easy way out, and I will admit it: I am a coward in life. I am afraid of making choices that could potentially shake my already insecure life. I appreciate a simple and rustic life, and a life of planned and secure future. If Morpheus asked me to choose between the red or blue pill, I'll choose the blue one instead. Life is too short to make any mistakes. I think I have made far too many for the past four to five years I am back here in Malaysia. I dated the wrong women (girl, actually; she hardly earned the term 'woman') and wasted a year and a half of her life, I wasted four years of professional education, and I am pretty sure that I missed the opportunity to confess to the girl whom I was very in love with until I met (or discovered) my current girlfriend, who will be my only constant and stable future for years to come. My life is in shambles, so to speak, and I do not know where to begin rebuilding it. I wish that I know what I am doing, but I do not. I do not at all. My life has holes in it, and I am desperately trying to cover it up with what remains of my passion, but to be truly honest to myself and to anyone who is reading this, I do not have any left. All that is left of me is the poignant fact that I am alive, healthy and not ready to take any more challenges that life has in store of me. I just want to be me, but to be me means that I have to fight myself, and to fight what others think and view of me. You may say that ignorance is bliss, but let's agree to disagree that bliss comes with a hefty cost of losing the ones closest to you. I am nothing to almost anyone I know, and I know nothing I do will ever change it. Please, please, let the future be more than a mile away. Let me reorganize, refocus and regroup myself. Let me be... Me.
race.
Writing is a core skill that is needed in anyone and everyone, regardless of what language you are accustomed to writing at. It is a nonverbal beauty, a rare flower that constantly blossoms and grows year after year, like fine wine. It never withers, and always stays the way it does.
I admit that I am pretty satisfied with my writing capabilities. Arrogance is key in the way I form my words and state my issues; it is akin to a calling card, a way of other writers and humans recognize that it is this young Asian person/human/wanker that is writing this shit of a metaphor. Arrogance keeps me in check, as writers, to me, need to have a hint of confidence in the words we type or write, and we need to always learn to respect our own writing, no matter how wrong it could possibly be. No one can change the way you write, or change the facts on the sentences you publish to the world but you, and you only. Know that, and a good yield can be produced from absolute imagination.
A rare flower is obviously hard to look for, and most writers do not have the chops to make it to the peak of the Hey-I-Got-Millions-Of-Fans-For-My-Novels Mountain, where readers turn into fully fledged monsters, a geek who knows every single detail of what the writer wrote in some novel they finished reading a few hours ago. It is a privilege, really, to have other humans sit on your fame and continue warming it up, constantly coughing up good words for you and giving you the proper the attention for words that you aligned up to either feed the horde or serve your mind.
I have no idea why I am writing this, but to escape from life is to jump into a world full of freedom and unlimited access to your deepest crevices to your imagination. I love writing, but I know that I am no Stephen King, or even the dreaded Mitch Albom for that matter. I am just a regular couch potato, destined to just write on this miserable piece of Internet that I have here.
Ah, destiny. Played me like a Mayan.
Normally we don’t get involved with private affairs, but the continued outpouring of grief, praise, remembrance, and love for Robin Williams we’ve seen on Tumblr has been staggering. He gave his gifts selflessly, and was a beacon of sorts to those of us who had a weird time figuring out how our energies and talents fit into the world.
Remember, if you’re struggling, there’s help. We love ya, Tumblr.
And goodbye, Robin. We love you, too.
Postmortem
Tired of being neglected. Tired of feeling neglected. Tired of knowing you are neglected Tired of thinking I am neglected. Tired of being tired that I am neglected. Tired of the fact that I am tired. Tired from irony and its various constellations.
Silver Surfer.
In my world, I am the Silver Surfer.
Bouncing from house to house, with friends getting in and out of my life... It is the cosmic loneliness that lures me to this particular Marvel hero.
He travels around the world, barely talks, and when he does, he speaks with wisdom, yet with a hint of reluctance, a sign of a being whose life is twisting and turning all the time with each sentence he speaks. Perhaps, with all his notions and knowledge, he cannot help but feel the need for human warmth, a recognition long stated and long awaited for this hero.
To live in this world with little to no worries about human love and compassion is a world worth living in, which is why I am not in one in the first place.
In this world, I am nothing.
Nothing.
gone from August
She is the one.
Words, sentences or paragraphs cannot express this overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Sadness. To feel robust is to see her smile, and it is akin to roses blooming before my very eyes. Even with its thorns, it is the most beautiful flower that I have seen.
You will leave me for nine months, and August will be remembered as the month where you leave your heart in my care and allow me to nurture it with the nutritional contents of pure love and fertilization. Layers after layers of myself has been peeled right before your eyes, unfolding only me, naked and subdued to your charms. I do not think I will ever feel this way on any other flower ever again, and I wish that I will not, because I know that this feeling can only be reserved to you, and to you only.
Emotions are engulfing me with flames and smokes of incoming tears, a notion rarely seen and done by me. I cannot comprehend the sadness I feel on paper, or by typing this paragraph. It is just too painful to watch you fly, gone with the wind and into beyond.
You will be happy. You will be sad. You will be surprised.
The most important thing is, however, best said in four words.
You will be loved.
Nine months will be a life changer for me, a single form of stress that can only be solved by you. Come back, and come back to me only. I will be here, waiting and rearing your heart, showering it with care and passion.
You are the one. My only one.