Long time ago, I signed up for tumblr, thinking it was really simple.
But I abandoned it a lot of times. Take this analogy (or simile) if tumblr is a girlfriend, you can very much think she is stupid. How can a girl still accept a guy who dumps her many times + sleeps with another girl who btw still exist?
I don't know if you understand me. I surely can understand myself until one day, some guy ask me to rephrase everything I said. Damn you.
Anyway, I present to you...
http://shreev.tumblr.com
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Questions
Questions are dangerous.
Can we think of something when questions crop up and they just complicate everything? Take the closest to you, say school. How many times have you thought about something and loving your own idea? Until a time when your teacher says, ‘But have you thought about...?’ And you thought, ‘Oh no...’
But does an act of ignorance is better than questioning what there is to know? For now, I think knowing is better than being ignorant.
So let us stop being ignorant. :)
p.s. I am thinking of reinventing a new blog, to write about my travelling experiences and stuffs happening..
Can we think of something when questions crop up and they just complicate everything? Take the closest to you, say school. How many times have you thought about something and loving your own idea? Until a time when your teacher says, ‘But have you thought about...?’ And you thought, ‘Oh no...’
But does an act of ignorance is better than questioning what there is to know? For now, I think knowing is better than being ignorant.
So let us stop being ignorant. :)
p.s. I am thinking of reinventing a new blog, to write about my travelling experiences and stuffs happening..
Thursday, January 7, 2010
20 pounds and 2 pounds
This is sort of a response to Nadia's blog. I'd like to comment on her blog but too bad there is no comment box.
well, it sort of occurred to me too, except it was dark at night and i was on the way from Pancras International Station (from my trip to France). I was stopped by this beggar who asked me if I was a Muslim. I said, 'yes' and he immediately talked about his problem and that his family had no money. All he asked was money from me. All the time his voice was shaking and needy. And all the time, I was suspicious of his intention and his voice. 'Is this needy voice real?' Never mind it, I was willing to give few pounds except when I checked my wallet in front of him, I found out that I only had £20! And mind you, the only money I had on sight.
Under pressure (because it was late and i really wanna go back to Brunei Hall and of course his persisting 'please'), I gave it to him. But I still don't know what he did exactly with the money when he left. My immediate mental reaction was calling myself an idiot.
The next thing happened was sort of unfortunate. With my luggage, I went inside the Bus 205 'Mile End' hoping the bus could bring me straight to Brunei Hall. But the road seemed unfamiliar to me and blurry and it felt like this was not right. I asked someone in the bus and he told me that 'this is not going to Paddington(where Bhall is).' And shit, the bus really was going to somewhere place called 'Mile End'. I had to go out of the bus and 'fortunately' within few minutes I got into the right bus.
But it didn't feel like the right bus because my oyster was apparently insufficient. I looked for spare change or at least two pounds which could pay for this one trip to Brunei Hall. BUT NO! I had no money at all! I was a bit worried and I did not exactly want to be stranded on unfamiliar road at late night. So while I was still searching for money in my bag, the bus moved towards Paddington. But all these time, I still could not find any money in my bag and I FELT embarrassed in front of the fellow passengers who looked at me blankly. Come on, I was alone and surely I looked like a kid who need help? It was so tempting to ask for change from the passengers there because the bus driver kept on looking and asking me if I had money while looking pissed off. But in the end, yes I found the two pounds that abled me to pay the bus trip to Paddington.
Perhaps, thinking that giving money to beggars was never a right thing to do. 'How can we actually know these people are really honest?' And after the unfortunate event, I kinda hate myself giving the beggar my only money I had (in view and easily reached) left when I in fact almost begged for it in the bus!
But then, it felt like a new experience. Like I was taking over the body of a beggar and all I felt was not just sympathy from the television watching news about hunger. I was in it. I was the guy who wanted to beg and needy. And all the while I was searching for money in my bag, I felt hatred to those who simply looked at me without offering to help. I could beg but I could not bear the thought of being ignored and thought of as some sort of con. Because I knew it could hurt me. I mean, come on, I am just doing my A levels here, hello?
But lucky me, I found my two pounds to pay and I could do the same thing to, cold staring at the fellow passengers of bus no. 205.
well, it sort of occurred to me too, except it was dark at night and i was on the way from Pancras International Station (from my trip to France). I was stopped by this beggar who asked me if I was a Muslim. I said, 'yes' and he immediately talked about his problem and that his family had no money. All he asked was money from me. All the time his voice was shaking and needy. And all the time, I was suspicious of his intention and his voice. 'Is this needy voice real?' Never mind it, I was willing to give few pounds except when I checked my wallet in front of him, I found out that I only had £20! And mind you, the only money I had on sight.
Under pressure (because it was late and i really wanna go back to Brunei Hall and of course his persisting 'please'), I gave it to him. But I still don't know what he did exactly with the money when he left. My immediate mental reaction was calling myself an idiot.
The next thing happened was sort of unfortunate. With my luggage, I went inside the Bus 205 'Mile End' hoping the bus could bring me straight to Brunei Hall. But the road seemed unfamiliar to me and blurry and it felt like this was not right. I asked someone in the bus and he told me that 'this is not going to Paddington(where Bhall is).' And shit, the bus really was going to somewhere place called 'Mile End'. I had to go out of the bus and 'fortunately' within few minutes I got into the right bus.
But it didn't feel like the right bus because my oyster was apparently insufficient. I looked for spare change or at least two pounds which could pay for this one trip to Brunei Hall. BUT NO! I had no money at all! I was a bit worried and I did not exactly want to be stranded on unfamiliar road at late night. So while I was still searching for money in my bag, the bus moved towards Paddington. But all these time, I still could not find any money in my bag and I FELT embarrassed in front of the fellow passengers who looked at me blankly. Come on, I was alone and surely I looked like a kid who need help? It was so tempting to ask for change from the passengers there because the bus driver kept on looking and asking me if I had money while looking pissed off. But in the end, yes I found the two pounds that abled me to pay the bus trip to Paddington.
Perhaps, thinking that giving money to beggars was never a right thing to do. 'How can we actually know these people are really honest?' And after the unfortunate event, I kinda hate myself giving the beggar my only money I had (in view and easily reached) left when I in fact almost begged for it in the bus!
But then, it felt like a new experience. Like I was taking over the body of a beggar and all I felt was not just sympathy from the television watching news about hunger. I was in it. I was the guy who wanted to beg and needy. And all the while I was searching for money in my bag, I felt hatred to those who simply looked at me without offering to help. I could beg but I could not bear the thought of being ignored and thought of as some sort of con. Because I knew it could hurt me. I mean, come on, I am just doing my A levels here, hello?
But lucky me, I found my two pounds to pay and I could do the same thing to, cold staring at the fellow passengers of bus no. 205.
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