Indulge the beats, sistah!

Instant Text Messaging:
A: "Nad woot"
Jane: "Mari headbang mildly sambil type assignment"
A: "Aha marii."

Shut up. I'm seeking the meaning of life, minus psychology.

[Extensions] Instant Text Messaging 2:
A: Kau dengar lagu Am I Wry?
Jane: BEST GILA. Farrah, now that we're here, can you tell me? Exactly howww I should have done.
A: Hebat gla lagu dye doh. Wooh wooh. Xkan blue light x stuck lg? Kau kena tgk OC.
Jane: Oc Seth je!! Yer later aku lekat kan. Dan guitar lagu am I wry ENERGETIC. Menari jom.
A: Jom. eventho i dnt really knw hw to
Jane: Kau ingat aku tau ke

I told you, we're both bored. We're wasting our 1 cents on Text Messaging. We're both lonesome and we're both dating our own iPods.

Oh tell me something that is more to life.

Where my genes partially came from,

October 28, 1952.
Mustafa bin Abu Bakar,
HAPPY 56th BIRTHDAY.
I love you always Papa,
Sorry if I have not been the
best of a daughter.

I love you, always.


Ice-cream does make a good "pick-me-up".

Under one's skin.

Funny, really.

You see a nurse as a nurse. With her (his) white (sometimes pink) uniform. They attend to sick people. Hence, whoever that wears the same uniform, she (he) is a nurse. And they attend to sick people.

When you see the nurse outside her (his) job hours, in their own skin; probably in a punk outfit or in slutty outfit, would you see her (him) as a nurse?

Karl Jung promoted his Archetypes theory with elements of a persona blended with extroverts and introverts components. Archetypes dear readers, are the mental images you form towards a word in this case, a person.

It is funny how you say the word Mama, you visualize your mother. And hence, you perceive Mama for what, who she is to you. And not what she is to the other world, a mechanic maybe. Or (fine I'll give you a more exclusive job) a politician maybe?

But no, when one utters the word Mama to you, you would perceive her as Mama. The one that nourish you through your sick days. The one that nags at you when your eyes are locked on the monitor. Not 'Datuk Seri' or an 'MP'.

On the other hand, the persona your Mama carries to the external world is a politician. She's a mother at home. But outside, she's a mother of 4, but that's that. Everybody else is a mother. But not everyone is a Politician by profession.

Likewise, if you utter the word ' Budak Indie' to me, somehow it would gives me this image of a bunch of phonies dressing up as 'Indie' flock. Although I know better that not everyone who dresses up as one of the 'Indie' flock listens to 'Indie' music. I mean, if you ask me, one who does not portray his/her persona as 'budak indie', could know oceans of the 'Indie' scene. Be it music, movies and such.

My point here is, why when one utters a classification of a person you immediately visualize them? You create mental images of them although you know better that they are not exactly that.

Well, I guess it's because you have known and pre-judged them physically first. Like, 'Tag Heuer' watch, 'Banana republic' top, 'AX' bottom. Poof, he must be this fancy kid who hangs out with fancy people, and would not entertain normal, moderate people - because you are not significant enough.

When really, their philosophy of life contradicts totally, "Just because I dress up with fancy clothes, which by the way I bought with my parents' money, does not mean I act and I live by the stereotyped principles of the fancy people."

Think Serena and Dan from Gossip Girl (in Season 1).

I mean, as long as they are comfortable in their own skin, and just because they don't necessarily have that physical persona of their inner self, does not mean they are like the bunch of people they are classified in.

I mean, you can't exactly define a person by where he/she lives. Or whether or not her/his facial or hair products are the expensive ones. Or whether or not her/his flip flops are those expensive ones from the 'trendy' stores. Or whether his/her bedroom is as decorated as yours? What are all of these really?

Sometimes, your mental images of one's physical appearance would differ with your abstract images of that person inner self. Mismatched of the physical and abstract entity. Habis tu, nak buat macam mana?

When you want to get to know a person, yes I know physical attraction would be the first criteria. But, that should not remain as just that. You should see under one's skin.

Like I was telling Mak Cik 2 how my skin has not been behaving accordingly, damn these acne. She simply say, "Oh yeah, tak perasan". And I thought, this girl must have seen me more than the outside. She sees me as Nadrah, not Jane. Not the girl who drives her mother's super big ass car, or the girl who wears a certain hair-do. I must say Makcik 2, I was flattered.

I wonder when one utters the word Jane (Nadrah) to you, what comes to your mind first?

So, have you seen me for who I am within just yet?

* Just the other day I drove my brother to the shop, and I felt how this place is getting old and how my feelings are worn out towards this place. I just felt like running away, find something new. But I drove passed by there again today, and it feels just exactly like the first time I was driven down the streets more than a decade ago. When the streets were being developed. I felt that 'new', strange, wonderful feeling I felt back when I was 5/6. Maybe this is what it feels like when someone says that he/she feels brand new.

Better in time.

Phases of life are often hard to adapt to, I know most of my phases were pretty hard to adapt to. But gradually, you embrace them. Gradually, it gets better in time.

I met a boy 7 years ago, and we were closed friends. We'd go to watch movies together, and I would accompany him whenever he fled school. Budak baru masuk sekolah menengah, ponteng sekolah cool apa? But gradually, we grew apart. Naturally, like most friendships grew distant when the other has this little 'intimate relationship' going on, we grew apart.

I didn't get to hear stories of how he fell in love although 7 years ago, I knew he was kinda like my best buddy. I wasn't really there when he went through one of the darkest chapters in his life. I turned a deaf ear.

Today, after many distant, quiet gaps, I met him over coffee. And I saw a boy I once knew, growing into a guy I hardly even know. He's in love. Clearly, I have been missing for a long time. And because of what? Because of this little thing called, 'love'.

Like seasons, phases come and go. Sometimes the people you were with a couple years ago appear back after much silence. The beautiful part about this is how they are able to put the past behind, and accept you for who you are. Kawan, aku sayang kau weh.

When asked, "How would you know you're in love?"

He simply answered, "When you wanna be with a specific someone every single minute you can and nthg else matters."

I never thought he would be the person who would fall in love and stay in love for long. I must say, I am proud of you. I am sorry though that I did not get to be there from the start. But I am here you know, just like old times.

It is funny how love is always the primary essence in life - the one that would bring people together, and also the one that would make people grow apart. Gradually, it gets better in time. Because naturally, people grow from it.

But if you ask me, how would you know if you're in love?

I would say, "Your head completely shuts off and your heart speaks a million languages, amplified at the maximum volume. The logic of love does not imply, you risk because you know what you feel matters more than of what you think."

So..?

*Berapa orang dah aku cakap aku sayang mereka dalam blog ni?

Pinknerd said Jane sounded depressed, am I?

I am an Idealists, hence I respect idealistic entities. Nazism however, wants complete, absolute power. But I somehow think that they're just victims of circumstances - the Germans' norms and traditions. It is not entirely their fault, those inhumane acts.

Now tell me, do we break from our norms and traditions if they were to do us harm? Consistency in your beliefs or adaptations to the currency?

Fikir ah, malas. My workload is like the shizzit'.
Kill me.

I need to tell somebody what's on my mind besides Völkisch, but who?

Alex Turner is fucking awesome, he makes me want to sing, shout, dance, laugh, headbang etc etc etc.

Gary Lightbody keluarkan album baru, mudah-mudahan lagu single dia tidak akan di putarkan 65412648346128961 kali di radio, sebab ianya amat mengjengkelkan. Tidak bukan Gary, namun orang-orang yang sibuk nak tumpang gembira, sedangkan album Songs for Polarbears atau Final Straw mereka tidak tau sangat.

Noel Gallagher dan 'Dig out your soul' pun best, seperti kembali ke zaman 90-an.

Tom Chaplin dan rakan-rakan telah menghasilkan record yang best, lebih baik dari 'Under the Iron Sea' aku rasa. Tetapi 'Hopes and Fears' paling best lah.

Aku tidak dengar dengan teliti album lepas mereka, tetapi Ricky Wilson dan co. punya album baru, masyuk.

Baru empat album, hanya dalam kitaran RM 200. Duit?

Okay, buat kerja.

Arahan dan tanggungjawab bersama,

I am asked to promote a blog. Well not just any blog, it's one of my classes' project. Now, I know I don't usually promote things and what not, but this time, I guess I share the responsibility as well.

Jane's Effective Listening Class' project: YOUTH BEATS.

If you're one of the readers that are nearby, well drop by.
Because a) You get to see Jane. b) You get to figure who gave those brilliant (ridiculous) ideas.

Just click the link, okay.

Empty.

I am going to fucking die.

So many stuffs, so little time, and distractions.

No more "Flats" this semester, dude.

The Dynamics,

It has always been revolving around love.

Well, some like most who are involved in intimate relationships, believe that 'true love' exists. Despite rowdy manners and whatever that contradicts the sweet and idealistic texture of love. No doubt, these rowdy manners help us grow. But too much is simply, too much. Then again, they are in love, who really cares? They believe in mystical miracle.

Really then, love is blind.

It becomes poorer if one fails to see that too much is too much, and only sees that too little is much. Of course, the dynamics of love work miraculously and sometimes, confusingly. Most of the time, even. But who am I to judge these dynamics eh? In fact, even Dr. Love is not 100% accurate. Or even that fortune-teller, or astrologists.

The best things in life are wonderful when one works along with the dynamics, and be content with the dynamics. Meaning, when they have understand the bits and pieces of these dynamics and know how to act moderately, not polarized to one end.

For example, in a relationship (not only intimate ones mind you) a party can be clingy as hell that makes you suffocate for your own solitude. But hey, you sacrifice your solitude or your 'me time' as those acts would only frustrate the other party. You don't reply the other text messages, calls, and boom, an argument rises.

See how polarized this is? Ideally, love promotes togetherness yes, but at the same time it preaches us to be autonomous, to be independent but also dependent of each other at the same time. Just because you are together, does not mean you do not have your own life to run.

And this is why I love my friends for. They frustrate with my 'right' choices and when I come to my senses, they would laugh and said, 'I told you so'. They speak of their perception, and not dictate me with their perceptions, because they let me grow on my own. They do not monitor and track me 24/7 because they trust my doings in my daily routines.

They let me take a walk on my own, but at the same time they allow me to ride on their backs.

It is sad how people tend mix the essence of love and being possessive of each other. Polarizing the relationship to an extreme end. Again, moderate paced of things are always the best way to live.

Since my friends are beautiful people, I guess all Jane needs now is a beautiful, particular person that has moderate pace in his life. Ah, someone who penetrates through the heart, and aids the head. So that these two languages are at the moderate volume.

* Saya sayang Makcik 2, Moron 1 dan Flabs.

Away from here.

Sometimes, I think talk is cheap.
Most of the time, I'll fly away.

Jeng jeng jeng.

Ketandusan.

Foto dari CNNMoney.com

Selamat datang ke dunia baru, recession! Start saving.

Aku dengar, dia ni tak betul.

Sebab dunia ini bukan seperti yang kita sangkakan. Dan, untuk dunia ini menjadi ideal secara keseluruhannya, memang sukar.

Dan tiba-tiba, aku mempunyai seorang stalker. Tak apa, untuk mengelakkan segala komplikasi, saya bukan jumpingjanee with the double E.

Dan, saya punya e-mail bukan ANDRACUTE.

Blog psuedo Jumpingjane. Klik lah, gelak tawa sama aku.

Sisterhood!

Biasa lah, kami semua nak tunjuk kasut (selipar)
baru kami. So tahu kah anda mana Jane punya?

I've never had sisters, be it a younger or an elder one. Sometimes I envy my girlfriends who are able to share clothes, shoes or boy talks with their sisters. The closest I had of an elder sister figure were my dearest cousins, whom by now, have their own kids to nurture. However, I do have my closed girlfriends. Flabs, Mak cik 2, Moron 1.

Kita sama-sama akan menjelajahi dunia.
Saya sayangi kamu semua, kamu harus tahu.

One of the many (few).

A recent comment on one of my old post entitled, Live Forever.

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Live forever.":

On a beautiful morning after a cup of coffee i decided to take a stroll to the city and came across advertisements that really caught my attention. it was literally about self esteem and boost of confidence for people that are going through an inferiority phase. now this is my take on this..

"Don't buy into that advertisement on what they say what people should look like. There are 6.5 billion people in the world and there are only about 20 supermodels, so they are the freaks, they are the ones that don't look normal."

The things i accidentally realize.

Jumpingjane would like to say,

"Anon, being put in the inferiority phase, then I guess it does make sense.
Heck, you are right! I mean, being in a so-called 'rut', one might see those supermodels as
'all-that', living in the fast-lane kinda thing.

But as you said, there are only 20 supermodels in the world, against 6.5 billion of people like us.
As you said, they are the ones that don't look normal.

Haha, but looking not normal isn't all that bad kan? I mean, being taken that there are only like 20 supermodels (okay, take other examples like, maybe only several Noble prize winner), well, if it was me, I would question myself, Why, can they be one of the few, and I on the other hand, am in the flock? Conforming to the mundane norms? I mean, well, maybe to me being one of the few gives me 'a closer' meaning of life. But then again, it all boils down to your pragmatic truth and your definitions aye?

Be merry, have a nice day! Oh, cheer up!"

See how two of these comments have different approaches to look at one thing? It's beautiful that a human mind is able to take a similar subject, and mingle with it from varied angles.

So, would you like to be one of the 6.5 billion people, or one of the 20 people?

Karavan,

Aku gemar apabila Fyfe Dangerfield mendendangkan lagu Cinta Rekaan #43 kerana melodinya diaturkan secara rapi. Fyfe menyintai si dia melalui percikan serta naga-naga yang berkilat. Juga, terdapat puisi di dalam tin Coke yang kosong. Fyfe juga menyatakan bahawa si dia mempunyai simetri yang sekata apabila si dia tersengih, membuatkan Fyfe tertarik, dan jatuh cinta. Namun, walaupun Fyfe telah jatuh cinta terhadap si dia, Fyfe merasakan bahawa si dia tidak mengambil peduli.

*
Keluhan seorang pelajar, walaupun aku menyedari bahawa masa semakin suntuk untuk aku tempohi kuiz serta tarikh penghantaran kerja, apabila aku membuka window Microsoft Word, aku merasakan, "Ahhh, lebih kurang 3 muka surat je lagi, aku pun sudah mempunyai points, cuma tinggal type dan elaborate sahaja.." Tapi aku tetap tertekan sebab time factor. Macam mana?

Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends (2).

Allahyarham Datuk Jamaluddin Khalid.

Al-Fatihah kepada Arwah Uncle Jamal.

It's really funny if you think about the life and the death. Many of us know that we are bound to leave this world just any seconds. We feel bad about it, know that we should live and love. But too bad, the forces are stronger, most of us tend to forget about it as time passes on. We live loud.

On the first day of raya, at the nick of Maghrib, I visited my grandparents (Papa's side) in Kluang Johor after a festive meal at my Mama's sister's place. Both my parents never had a hard time deciding where to balik kampung, because we are all in Kluang, Johor.

There, first day of raya, at the nick of Maghrib, I drove in my Mak Tok's house. And the first person who greeted me at the gate was my late Uncle Jamal with his first granddaughter n his arms. I smiled inside, as I felt pleasant to see my uncles and aunts having their grandkids around. How time flies, how grown up we've became.

To my guilt, I didn't salam him on the first day of raya. I was afraid, because he was always so serious. What more he was playing with his granddaughter. Ah, tidak mengapa lah, I thought.
So I went ahead with adik next to me, visited everybody. Talked to the deceased wife and kids.

Abang Syah is all grown up, a little fleshy than I last remembered him. Met his wife, and his toddler. Kak Shy, well, I often see her on TV. And Sheera, teman sepermainan aku, the youngest of the three. Mak Jang, being the aunt I love to talk to whenever my dad's relatives are involved. We all talked and visioned about the future.

But what we all failed to vision about the future is death and all his friends.

I did not tear in front of my relatives (Mama's side) for I like to appear strong. Probably partially because I would like to think that it is not happening. Or probably I don't really feel it because he is not my habit, not part of my daily routine.

But as I write this, or every time I talked about the deceased and his family; I tear. The last of him I saw was him carrying his granddaughter, and behind the wheel of the black Avanza with his extended nucleus family. The last time I saw him, I did not salam him. I did not even utter a word, because of what? Fear for his silence.

I silently tear too when I saw Abang Syah on the Night News on TV. He was tearing next to Arwah's grave, holding the freshly dug ground. Tearing in disbelieve.

You truly do not know when it will come despite the inadequacy we offer.

Its scary is it not? We can't tell when death would come knocking along with his friends. We live too loud the sound of death is muffled. The people who have passed on, and the things that we have not done to them. And before you know it, . . .