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Treading murky water.

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Just feel like writing when I was actually bogged down by fatigue two hours ago.

(Surfing the interwebs does that to you)

Had a conversation(more like getting some prep talk) with a person of the music industry, and he told me this;

‘You can be yourself, you should, in fact, but you’re living with other people, so like it or not you have to compromise. Don’t voice out too much of your negative opinion in your tweets or whatever.’

(Or something like that; my brain is technically a Telefon Rosak game)

I was listening half-arsedly because the things he said is something I already know but refuse to follow because my neurons can barely adapt to absorbing life, let alone dealing with people, but in a way it gave me a wake-up call(mainly because he’s my boss-to-be).

Which reminded me of Yuna way back when she had

It’s hard to keep your critical opinion to yourself sometimes. As a late-bloomer of the rebellious teen era, I can’t help but wanting to be rebellious(read : emotionally ignorant of other’s feelings and down-right blatant) and socially accepted(by that I mean more likes, more retweets, comments saying ‘I totes agree wit u’), both on social media and real life at the most inopportune times.

Well, all the time, really.

But I guess that’s why I started vomiting lyrics in crappy melodies in the first place.

It’s my refusal of speaking straight so that the party involved wouldn’t notice I’m condemning them while sanctioning the masquerading of self-proclaimed provocative thoughts into lousy music that I was absolutely certain no one wants to hear ever again.

So to be straight, and I am by the way, I condemn people all the time.

Now that I’ve put that pen of thought down on this electronic visual paper, it really hit me how much of a pessimistic I am all these while.

Even towards myself.

Especially towards myself.

While toying with the idea of talking trash about people being something legitimately fun, almost as if he read my thoughts, he said,

‘You won’t get anything out of it anyway. Buat tambah dosa je. Kena kat orang lain; kena kat diri sendiri, kan.

It took me quite a while(two hours is a while) to digest what he just burdened me with(I guess that’s where the fatigue came from).

And then I remembered a headline or some article I came across some time ago.

An Iranian film won an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film.

And their rules are most probably way stricter than our Lembaga Perfileman Malaysia’s.

So it’s not about conforming to the norm(which will be massacred by me eventually); it’s about treading murky and calm water in a camouflage of neatly-groomed-and-waterproof criticism and condemnation.

Well, well; more rules, more room for creativity.


Written by Takahara Suiko

17 August 2013 at 00:04

Posted in journal

The danger of books.

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I guess I know why I rarely read anything nowadays.

I feel obligated to finish one book the second I start, to the point of ignoring lectures and sneak-reading under the table, ignoring shower time, ignoring meals, ignoring people.

Harry Potter book saga habit.

I’ve read Twilight’s Breaking Dawn because my friend who is a bookworm told me the book was interesting.

Read the whole thing in a day.

The huge font size helps.

Ended up wanting to tear that book page by page and burn them.

Gave it to another friend instead.


Had a reading competition with my ex-roommate during secondary school; sape habis dulu dia menang dan dapat pegi prep dulu dan stadi untuk SPM.

I forgot who won.

We were reading Marian Keyes.

Finished a 600-or-so-paged book in two days.

Much smaller font size, with much more realistic chick lit component.

Based on Keyes’ dark past anyway, so.


I’ve hated my friends for telling me the fake ending to Potter saga’s last book.

I even cried a bit.

Dude I’ve waited like two years for Deathly Hallows.

At that time Ma held off giving me the book until I’ve finished SPM.

Four, looooong excruciating months.

It was depressing, seeing likewise Potterheads reading the book in front of me.


I also end up becoming the characters of the books I’ve read for a week or so.

Stephen King’s Different Seasons, the first novella called Apt Pupil, I felt a bit psychopathic, and actually scared myself.

Haruki Murakami’s Kafka by the Shore, I finished the book feeling all confused, and felt a bit Oedipal.

Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, read the first few pages and shelved it, but I acquired this incredible superpower of speaking complicated posh Classic English, like Watson.

Yasmin Ahmad’s memoir book How You Know, felt like I was the people who knew her personally.

James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces, I left the book feeling scared I might sink back into drug abuse and alcoholism.

I’m afraid what Fifty Shades of Grey can do to my brain.


The end.

Written by Takahara Suiko

3 March 2013 at 10:40

GAP hunting.

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Assalamualaikum. GAP starts off new arrivals with the average price of 6,900 yen(times 4 divide 100 minus 1.5 ≒ RM 265). Even some petty baju nipis warna putih yang pak aji pakai dengan kain pelikat tu pun harga nak dekat tujuh ribu. Today I scored 8 items at a grand total of 9,000 yen. Two shirts, two long skirts, two pants, a lightweight hoodie, a blazer. Booyah. (God I’ve become a monster)


Written by Takahara Suiko

2 February 2013 at 10:20

Posted in journal, Jurnal

Hope you guys are having fun there.

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Was just pondering and tearing up thinking about Tok Ayah.

Ma said two decades ago I tawaf-ed his katil a lot.

Climbed up, kissed him, climbed back down, went around, climbed back up, repeat cycle.

I even remembered doing that.

It was his last days.

Remembered an ambulance parked outside our house.

And I wonder what Ma told me when I asked her, ‘Tok Ayah nak pegi mana?’

Written by Takahara Suiko

26 January 2013 at 06:18

Posted in journal


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The norm.

The flow.

Go to school.
Get good results.
Go to uni.
Preferably take up one of the Holy Trinity of Respectable Majors : Medicine, Engineering, Law.
Get a degree.
Get a job.
Get married.
Buy a house.
Have two, three kids.
Marry kids off.

The most boring flow of existence.

Even water flows randomly.

In between, miracles happen.

Get kicked out.
Get bullied.
Unable to cope with the studying your parents and their friends expect you to do.
Lost limb.
Death, when you least expect it.

Is living the flow really what you want to do?

Or is it plainly because you can’t do the thinking on your own?

Or is it because no one you know, or most of them at least, had never broken the flow before?

Written by Takahara Suiko

3 October 2012 at 09:21

Posted in journal

Looking back : Ramadan.

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Achievements for the past month (not in order) :


1. Complied with some people’s demands for a Raya song.

Can’t believe I actually wrote a new song tho. Can’t believe I succumbed to the public’s(ramai gila pulak en) demand for a Raya song even.


2. Ate Roti John and murtabak.

I wrote a damn song about RotiJohn. I ain’t gonna write a song about Murtabak Raja or whatever. Thank God I came back in the first place anyway.


3. Didn’t step a foot in any PaRam.

Pasar Ramadan. Punyalah pemalas nak sebut pepanjang. Dasar orang Malaysia. Hey I’m using that to mock people okay, I use the proper term ‘bazaar’. Is it proper? Whatever. Yet, I still get the foodz in No. 2. Because that’s what fathers are for; untuk kirim makanan yang diidamkan anak dara mereka.

4. Read books.

Yasmin’s memoir Yasmin, How You Know?, Hadi M. Nor’s Sepucuk Pistol Di Dalam Laci, Wani Ardy’s Langit Vanilla, Katherine Langrish’s Troll Mill that I bought like 5, 6 years ago with the plastic wrap still on before I tore it two days back, The One And Only Warkah Cinta that I rarely touched. Very very rarely.


5. Felt the days passing by so fast I thought I just landed yesterday when I’ve 8 more days to scram back to Le Hellhole.

Kasih sayang melimpah ruah. I’ve been dreading the day of liberation of the literally God-damned Para Setan, mainly because it reminds me how little time I have left before going back to…school.




Happy happy happy Eid.

Written by Takahara Suiko

18 August 2012 at 21:43

Posted in journal, Jurnal

Why I’m a (hardcore) hipster.

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1. I self-diagnosed myself as having ADHD.
2. I get easily bored.
3. Maybe because I do one thing at its utmost immensity and the next day I get bored by it and leave it to rot without finishing what I started.
4. Because I don’t like seeing the end to stuff I’ve done, I shelve them until I run out of unfinished businesses to shelve.
5. Like the video games I play. If I did finish them that means I was absolutely not expecting what I just beat to be the last boss or that last exit to be of the last level. And ended up screaming to the rolling credits ‘COME ON WHAT THE HELL MAN THAT WAS PATHETIC’
6. Anywhoozle.
7. I have zero discipline.
8. I lack competitive spirit in stuff that’s worth it.
9. In other words, if the thing I plan to do/watch/work on/etc has more than two persons I know doing it, I drop the idea altogether. Or shelve it until it became a vintage thing. Meaning, until other people found another mountain of sugar to hurdle on.
10. My point of existence is to annoy people. Hipsters are cool before the mainstreamers get to be cool. Hardcore hipsters are just plain annoying. Thus.

Written by Takahara Suiko

19 July 2012 at 08:10