Another cookie always seems like a good idea until you reach cookie number 4

Back when I was filling in application forms, I was always slightly stumped when they asked me to describe my hobbies or interests. That was the first time in a while where I really assessed what I did for leisure, and I was slightly surprised to be so self-conscious about it.

When I come across music that excites me, or read a book or the news, or follow bits and bobs on the internet, it doesn't feel like nothing. It feels substantial. But when it comes to filling a form asking about my interests, all of a sudden it seems very embarrassing to merely type in 'Reading books,listening to music, surfing the internet'. When I was in sekolah rendah it was always perfectly legit to write down 'Hobi saya adalah membaca buku cerita', why not so much now?

I'd often itch to say my interests include tennis, going on safari, photography. Collecting viking paraphernalia, scuba-diving, painting batik. Training seeing-eye dogs, learning sign language, volunteering at national parks. Fencing, origami, subtitling foreign films. Horseback-riding, rock-climbing, jamming with my Fender Stratocaster. Yoga, contemporary dance, doing triathlons.

Oh well.

***

Weather today is drop-dead gorgeous, I must say. From my room I can see nothing but blue skies, with a hint of a breeze indicated by the lightly billowing Australian flag on top of the Royal Melbourne Hospital. If I were to pick a day to feel like I could do anything, today would be it.

Yesterday was pizza day. I love how yeast makes dough grow, it's freaky, but in a good way. We went a bit crazy towards the end, scattering toppings willy-nilly, and Kelly had the insistent belief that the best thing to do would be to formulate a stuffed crust for one of the pizzas. So we did, stretching the dough over shredded mozzarella all around the edge, forming this barrier of cheese-filled bread. AND, Kelly baked her crack-cookies again.Damn, son.

It all backfired this morning though, when I had 3 leftover slices for sahur, followed by 4 cookies. Apparently even gluttony has its limits, that being the confines of my stomach. Feeling too full for too long a time had me groaning in discomfort, why, Atiqah, why? Insaf, insaf!

***

Kpop musings.

I have to admit, I'm pretty hooked on Teen Top's No More Perfume on You. It's catchy, very reminiscent of Chris Brown's Forever. Even when I learned the song was about a boy asking his older love-interest to not wear perfume lest it rubs off on him and his girlfriend smells it and catches whiff of this illicit affair, I was all the more charmed. It's amusing to see these cute hairless boys playing Casanova, and besides, what cool chick would seriously fall for a 17-year old? She was probably just having a bit of fun herself.

But as with their other material, this song has Niel, as the most dependable singer, being given the lion's share of its lines, followed by Chunji who gets the leftovers, while the rest get, well, bits and pieces of the carcass. I am always slightly annoyed when groups get promoted in this fashion, I dislike having some members merely as backdrops. Niel is, in essence, the Nicole Scherzinger of Teen Top.

Atiqah

What are you capable of, Atiqah?

Hmmm.

I rarely think of myself as Atiqah, and now that I am, it seems like a separate entity. There's a distinct "Holy crap, I AM Atiqah!" feeling.

Hare Krishna

The Hare Krishnas here in Melbourne run this canteen in the city, where for 6 dollars, you can have unlimited helpings to vegetarian fare. I was walking around the city about a month back, when one of the Hare Krishnas passed me a small leaflet advertising the canteen. On the back of the leaflet was printed:-

Chant

Hare Krishna
Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna
Hare Hare

Hare Rama
Hare Rama
Rama Rama
Hare Hare

and your life will be sublime

I somehow find it amusing every time I read it. Sublime ah? I don't know the first thing about the theology underlying Hare Krishnas, nor their structure or belief system. But I like how this small leaflet reaffirms my idea of its followers and intertwines with memories of seeing them dancing and singing while walking around the busiest parts of the city. There was always something so oblivious and joyous about them, so carefree.

***

The London riots, in all its horribleness, have been quite transfixing to follow. I feel very sorry for the victims(with Asyraf Haziq standing out amongst them), and at the same time I am also intrigued by how rioting manifests in general. It's amazing, in an awful way. It's as if all social conventions are suspended, there are no rules.

Is there really any one reason a riot starts? I supposes it's a cocktail that can include various things, from racial tensions, to the socio-economic landscape, to deep-rooted problems within a community, or any number of unfortunate circumstances. But you have to wonder what combination of any of the above could mix and bubble and boil until it leads up to people behaving so frighteningly primitively. What pushes them over the edge? Would I act the same way if I had been in their shoes?

And what is the triggering factor, what is that breaking point that makes something click in the heads of people who are angry and makes them resort to violence? At what point does a crowd protesting the death of a man suddenly turn hostile, and at what point does that hostility segue into breaking into shops and looting and general chaos?

Articles I've been reading about the riots have phrases like 'mob mentality', 'marginalized by society', 'troubled youths', 'pent-up anger'. One of them stressed that irregardless, at the end of the day people had a choice. God knows there is enough evidence of people who have done bad things in this world for me to understand that there are those who choose to do wrong, but I am still astounded when I see things like that footage of people helping Asyraf up, only to open up his bag and steal his stuff while he's standing there bleeding and disoriented, it just boggles the mind that someone can choose to do that.

Kesian dia. And kesian mak bapak dia. I think every parent who has ever sent their kid to study far away(or just any parent, really) worries most about their child getting hurt in some way, and this must have been a sort of nightmare come true.

***

Day 11 of puasa.

Wolf Like Me

This song is so good.

In the midst of being a complete wreck, there was this moment some time back where this song made me get up and dance alone in my room in a way that was so hideous and for a minute felt completely awesome. Head-banging, legs kicking, jumping up and down. Dancing dengan gaya yang boleh menakutkan orang. Menari macam lupa dunia.

This song sometimes pushes me to pick up my feet when I'm on the treadmill. Power song! The drums sound like my feet pounding the pavement. It makes me feel like I could fly(even though I actually jog so slowly). It feels like I could run my frustrations away.

This song makes me want to experience it in it's fully glory at a gig, jostling in a crowd screaming the lyrics(especially the part that goes Gonna teach you tricks that'll blow your mongrel mind!, I want to punch the air with each syllable), the music deafening my ears. Blinding lights and a natural high.

So good. SO GOOD! When the trumpets(are those even trumpets?) come in around the 1.45 mark, I'm blown, I'm a goner, I'm euphoric. You know I'm a sucker for trumpets.

Then there's that moment where the song slows down, and I get slightly disappointed each time, but then it picks up again and escalates into the crescendo. Heck yeah.

This is a song I love to get lost in.