Back again.

At the same spot where I lost myself.

Bringing back what I do best.

But yet the lingering feeling tells me otherwise.

Like it or not, I have lost it.

Did I misplace it?

Or did my priorities run slightly ajar?

How did I ever become like this?


I’m at a loss at what I am underneath. There is a saying that if you use a mask to fight off evil, inevitably the mask and your face will merge as one. Whilst you’re busy fighting the monsters, you’re morphing into a monster itself.

I can’t remember how I became the loud-spoken person that I seemed to be during my Sixth Form years and varsity years. As far as memory serves me, my life has been very enclosed. Primary to secondary, I was the constant butt of all jokes and jibs. I was also the target for bullies. As someone told me, when you mistreat your family or relatives it will come back to you in a different situation and scenario. Karma really exists. I was also the caught in between the classifications of groupies. There are the nerds, the jocks, the losers, the rich kids, the wannabe’s, the ass-kissers, the weirdo’s, the silent types, the anti-socials and many more. I didn’t’ fit into any of the classification above.

Let me recap. During my primary years, if I recall clearly I think I was having an identity crisis. I wasn’t really into all the boyish games like “chopping, football, basketball, kejar-kejar.” It isn’t my fault that I fell more in love with the likes of “batu seremban, hop-scotch and rope jumping (the one where we make a skipping rope out of a few hundred rubber bands)” After all, how come society has to stereotype what games boys and girls should and shouldn’t play? I guess that didn’t set me apart that much; I guess I was likeable by both parties.

Then moving into secondary, my life was like totally upside down. Living my adolescent years in all boys school was a blessing and a curse at the same time. Firstly, you get a deep involvement in the fantasising of women in their prime. But not all my secondary female teachers were in their prime, some of them have passed it but there were still some who provided us lonely, deprived boys some light at the end of the tunnel. So during my early years, I felt that maybe I was in the nerdy group. Judging on my appearances with hormonal raging at its peak, I wasn’t the best sight in KL.

People tend to judge others on how they look, but when you’re outer appearances is like that; I had a big crosshair embedded deeply onto my back with bright, flashing, raving colours of red and black that was every bully’s Vodka Shot.

I still remember this particular bully. He used to bully me in class even when I’m not in his way. There was a particular incident where I was doing my homework during an interval after a subject has ended, he went behind me and started pushing the back of my chair so that the chair that I was sitting on was standing solely on the front two legs. And with his still boyish voice ringing loudly telling me to “Go in la faster, harhh!”, I just told him “You cannot wait ar?” in the voice that trembled with timidity. To top it all off, he stays around my area and since his mom sends him to school with a few other boys, my mum decided to pin me to the bandwagon. It was hell for me, being hard enough to actually understand why you have to spend more time seeing your enemy more than what is required to.

And so I went.

There were two other boys who followed him to. One guy was a church friend, so he was alright. I wouldn’t say we were close but enough for the compulsory greetings. Another kid that followed was the rich kid. He had all the latest gadgets with him, the latest games that would make all the kids go green with envy. And he made it particularly obvious to me because when all of us would converge at the bully’s house, the rich kid would invite my church mate and the bully over to his place to play his PS2. He invited them without even making a glance at my face nor acknowledging my existence. It was as though I was emitting some sort of nasty aura that seems to have irritated his sensitive nose. That was just one of the daily horrors to be endured daily on the bitchiest ride to school.

After enduring some unbearable time period with them, I finally decided to put my legs to good use. I walked back from school and this was the perfect ploy for me to divert to places which I knew would get me addicted. Cyber Cafes are the nastiest addiction. The Local Area Network Games like Counter-Strike, Warcraft, DOTA, etc were the main pull for all ages. I got hooked on Counter-Strike and it was the best time of my life. Pushing aside all the scolding, I would gladly do it the same way again if time were to rewind itself.

So how did I actually change from timid and bully target to sex-loving-kinky-nymphomaniac? It was during my Sixth Form Years that I found that I’m now amongst the same scenario as primary. I was able to connect better with the girls around me. And that there was no need for me to feel alone and an outcast again. So it was from there that I learnt to communicate with others by talking about what they like and doing things that endeared to them. In a way, I was vying to get in into the ass-kisser group.
But then, things took an even greater toll during varsity years. Pervasion was the key thing to bonding with my friends. They looked at me as though I’m the top pervert but still I maintained my likeability because of my idiotic acts and being a lamer. Still I guess that when you can act feminine when you’re around women, they’ll take you into their fold though not all will do that. And when you can masculine among your male buddies, you gain fame and reputation that I was only able to dream during my younger years.

So, I managed to make a lot of friends. But through it all, I learnt one thing. When you behave like that, people will have no respect for you. They see you as a funny person without respect for yourself. I did all sorts of stuff that have quickly eroded my respect. Doing things that cannot be considered funny but downright brainless. Just for the record, being overly exalted is not good. Women will be intimidated.

That was me during previous times. Now, I’m still trying to understand who we basically are and what does it take to know that sometimes our enemies respect us more that our friends.

I want to share this because I want all of us to know that even though they are called your friends, they still might not be giving you the respect you deserve.


See who I am. Dissect who they were. Cannibalise all.

Identity Theft

I lost my identity. Seriously, I don’t know who I was during secondary school and college times. I was switching between two finely sculpted masks that shielded me from unnecessary torment from bearing the truth.

Let me just give you a recap. During secondary years, I was the quiet nerd in the class. I didn’t’ mix well with people of my own faith and colour. Instead, I found solace within those of different colours than me. I was a constant hit for “friends” to launch friendly jibes against me. I never could give a good comeback. I didn’t have many friends I could call friends.

At church, I was the kid who follows his mom’s orders. I used to enjoy little dares that A and I used to do, like climbing the church rooftop or even hanging out at his old dilapidated home reading Japanese Manga (Doraemon, Dragon Ball, etc) Still, I had to endure torment from my Catechism mates. Church wasn’t the end point for me.

Form 6 was one of my better memories. There I felt consoled because women were there. I was able to melt better with women rather than with men. Still, it felt oddly fake that I was this joker that everybody has developed a love-hate relationship. I was an angry kid; at home and at constant war with mom. I managed to develop popularity among the ladies; it did manage to help ease my passing through Form 6. Yet, I still wasn’t spared from the hatred stemming from people of the same colour as me. There were some whom were nice to me but that was rare as a meteor fragment. Throughout this time, I still took comfort in the other colours.

College was almost the same. I ended in a class that has an overwhelming percentage of my own colour people. I decided to give this new group a try and it paid off. It was a bargain that only a fool would make to ensure he has sufficient gold to last him a lifetime. I traded my inner insecurities for the Joker’s façade. It was the only method that would work. Making a fool out of myself enabled me to bond closer with people of my colour. And it was a clear indication that I wasn’t a person to be taken seriously. And that took a toll on me for my assignments, etc. These people whom are the same colour have sidelined me because of my incompetence. That bargain didn’t not entail all these disasters and miseries. This dragged on for three years.

As time went on, a friend told me she had feelings for me and would like to take it to the next level. Still, it was an oxymoron because she said that I like you but I cannot love you. Huh? Anyways, the reason was because I was too “fa sum” which means flirtatious. Yes, I admit that I was friendly to all my girlfriends and there was a level of flirtation that both parties were comfortable with.

And the time came for me to fall in with someone. She was this loud-spoken, aggressive, brave and classy person whom I have never encountered before. But I couldn’t tell her, she would have slaughtered me. Plus, I’ve made myself as an incredulous potential candidate due to my irrepressible management of character. That killed it. I still dropped hints here and there but sadly she didn’t notice or was more likely ignoring it blissfully.

And the three years ended. Still I don’t feel the need to miss them or meet up with all of them. I am still alone and now that the façade has been embedded so deeply, I am now stuck at a point where I cannot make head from tail.

My identity has submerged itself under the gargantuan icebergs that reveal only the pinnacle of their character.

I have yet to reveal myself. God help me when I do.


”Anonymous”