Archive for April 2011

Open Your Eyes Part 1-Zimbabwe   2 comments

“This is one way to die. Don’t commit suicide. Don’t be foolish. Vote ZANU-PF and live.” – Robert Mugabe, in the video.

Let’s see what happened in Zimbabwe under Robert Mugabe’s presidency.

Zimbabwean dollar

On 27 November 2007, the chief statistician of the Central Statistical Office, Moffat Nyoni, announced that it would be impossible to calculate the inflation rate of the dollar any further. This was due to the lack of availability of basic goods, and subsequent lack of information from which to calculate the inflation rate; plus, most computers had an insufficient number of digits and software. The International Monetary Fund has stated that inflation is predicted to rise to 100,000% per annum.

On 14 February 2008, the Central Statistical Office announced that the inflation rate for December 2007 was 66,212.3%, and the unofficial exchange rate was Z$7.1 million to the US$1.

On 20 February 2008, the Central Statistical Office said that officially, inflation has in January 2008 gone past the 100,000% mark to 100,580.2%.

On 4 April 2008, the Financial Gazette (FinGaz) reported that officially, inflation in February 2008 jumped to 164,900.3%.

On 15 May 2008, the Zimbabwe Independent reported that officially, inflation in March 2008 jumped to 355,000%.

On 21 May 2008, SW Radio Africa reported that, according to an independent financial assessment inflation in May 2008 jumped to 1,063,572.6%. The state statistical service has said there are not enough goods in the shortage-stricken shops to calculate any new (official) figures.

On 26 June 2008, the Zimbabwe Independent reported that, latest figures from the Central Statistical Offices (CSO) showed that annual inflation rose by 7,336,000 percentage points to 9,030,000% by June 20 and was set to end the month at well above 10,500,000%.

The Sydney Morning Herald reported that inflation was likely to be 2 million percent in May 2008 and 10-15 million percent in June 2008, according to John Robertson, a respected Zimbabwean economist.Robertson estimated inflation in July 2008 to be 40-50 million percent. Inflation can only be estimated because of the impossibility of following the cost of individual goods.

According to Central Statistical Office statistics, annual inflation rate rose to 231 million percent in July 2008. The month-on-month rate rose to 2,600.2%. By December 2008, inflation was estimated at 6.5 quindecillion novemdecillion percent (65 followed by 107 zeros).

As predicted by the textbook quantity theory of money, this hyperinflation has been caused primarily by the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe’s choice to mushroom the money supply.

Since February 2009, following a period of hyperinflation and widespread rejection of the devalued currency, companies and individuals are permitted to transact domestic business in other currencies, such as the US dollar or the South African rand. In consequence, the Zimbabwean economy has undergone dollarization and the Zimbabwean dollar has fallen out of everyday use.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zimbabwean_dollar

Zimbabwean cholera outbreak

As the outbreak and health crisis grew worse, American and British leaders cited the crisis as further proof that it was, in their view, “well past time for (President) Robert Mugabe to leave” and that Zimbabwe had become a failed state. The Zimbabwe government and state media responded by blaming the outbreak on European and American sanctions and accused Britain of plotting an invasion under the cover of the outbreak. Information minister Sikhanyiso Ndlovu blamed the cholera deaths on Western sanctions, saying “the cholera issue has been used to drive a wedge among us”. On December 12, Ndlovu repeated his accusation, and claimed that the cholera outbreak was actually a “serious biological-chemical weapon” attack by the United Kingdom, which Ndlovu asserted was trying to commit genocide. Said Ndlovu:

Cholera is a calculated, racist, terrorist attack on Zimbabwe by the unrepentant former colonial power, which has enlisted support from its American and Western allies so that they can invade the country.

In the meantime, a senior ZANU-PF official argued that the government and party leadership was more focussed on the forthcoming ZANU-PF conference than on the current crisis. On 11 December 2008, President Robert Mugabe made a speech screened on national television in which he said:

I am happy to say our doctors have been assisted by others and WHO (the World Health Organization)… so now that there is no cholera… Because of cholera, Mr Brown wants a military intervention… Bush wants military intervention because of cholera… There is no cause for war any more. The cholera cause doesn’t exist any more.[50][51]

Reports from the WHO contradicted Mugabe’s view and indicated a growing death toll. According to the WHO, as of 8 December nearly 800 people had died of cholera and more than 16,000 cases were being treated. Later that same day, Zimbabwean visas were denied to six French aid workers, including three crisis management specialists, two epidemiologists and a water treatment expert. Britain’s Africa minister, Mark Malloch-Brown, dismissed Mugabe’s claim that the Zimbabwe cholera crisis is over, commenting as follows:

I don’t know what world he [Mugabe] is living in. There is a raging humanitarian crisis in Zimbabwe as well as an economic crisis and still there is no representative government able to lead the country out of this disaster.

The French foreign ministry and USAID also contradicted Mugabe’s statements and called on him to allow aid to reach the people in need.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zimbabwean_cholera_outbreak

…and when people’s voice is rising…

In 2008, parliamentary and presidential elections were held. The Opposition Movement for Democratic Change (MDC), led by Morgan Tsvangirai, won both the parliamentary election and the first round of the presidential, sparking a run-off in a latter. The three month campaign between the first and second rounds of the presidential election was marred by increasing violence targeted at MDC supporters. The MDC stated that at least 86 of its supporters -including Gibson Nyandoro and Tonderai Ndira– had been murdered, and that 200,000 others had been forced out of their homes by pro-government militia. The election itself was reportedly marked by mass intimidation, with citizens being forced to vote, and required to show their ballot to government party representatives before placing it in the ballot box.

Source:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_rights_in_Zimbabwe

When power became possessions, when people are afraid, when the future is in danger… These are the consequences…

-Nkosi sikelel i’Afrika-

-God bless Africa-

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Posted April 26, 2011 by princerighty1 in OPEN YOUR EYES

The Novel- EVERYTHING IS A REASON Chapter 2   Leave a comment

CHAPTER 2: I LOVE THEM

PART 2.1: MY DAD
Even though my dad is nearly bald, his face reminds me to his impressing lifeline. I am grateful to live rich, and full of luxury like a bed of roses, and he was the one which told me that life isn’t always bloom.
He was born on Friday, 4th January 1963, long before Malaysia became independent 9 months and 12 days after. He was born far away in a village, surrounded in a serene environment named Engkilili. I came there for the first time in 2006, after my cousin, Zul finished his PMR examination (PMR, abbreviation of Penilaian Menengah Rendah, an examination compulsory for all Form 3 students, will be ceased to exist in 2011).

My dad worked as… err… I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know what job is he is in. He said; just refer him to as mechanics. He worked in many parts of the world, and he got a full ship of bucks, too. Currently, he was working with SeaDrill, a company centered in Sweden (if I’m not mistaken) through Tioman Drilling, a Miri-born company, which hires a lot of workers but very few petroleum engineers.

I’ve a story about petroleum engineering. It’s about my dad, which was informed by somebody that I was to plot my future studies. He secretly told my mum, “Let him study Petroleum Engineering,” and that news leaked far away in Labuan.
I was thinking about courses, and in my target was: petroleum engineering, chemical engineering, pure physics and chemistry. They are big courses, and a lot of bucks, for sure. My eyes are seeing money right then…
But, something puzzled me. How can he know about it?

Down memory lane, yet, he is the greatest dad I ever have in the world even though he doesn’t look like the best. The low-profile look made me amazed about him. So, now I write this special for him, special for his 48th birthday on 4 January.
When I was in Year 1, he sent me to school at first. It was Monday, 4th January 1999, his 36th birthday. I never felt of been in school before. That’s when I feel away from family for the first time. Not bad, really. But it looked a little bad when a guy made me feel bad.
I told my dad about it. I always cried since the first day. That guy always disturbed me, pinched me, beat me until he saw me suffer.
All of it come to a surprise when my dad came and slow-talked with him. I saw him cried then. Pity him, my heart had spoken.
Since then, he was my good friend until Year 4. Since then, I never met him.

Even though my life is quite comfortable, actually it’s not. That’s what my dad told me.
He is not a fortune collector, but fortune keeps on coming. In reality, 30 years ago, the opposite happens.
He came from a family of paddy farmers. In Malaysia, rice can only be harvested once a year. I wondered how he can live in such family with nine members.
Then, he was adopted by a middle-class family in Kuching. He was kept by the family until he grows to an adult. He was given education until Form 5, but since SPM is not yet 100 percent government-sponsored, so he was about to find his own money.

The family, I consider to be just below average. Every day, my dad have to sell something he could to support his expenses, as well as for his SPM. What I know is that for one subject in SPM, it costs (in a range of) RM 10.50 to RM 12.00 per subject. The most expensive will be the so-called English 1119, which could costs RM 20.00 per student. I took SPM in 2009, and the government paid me RM 141.50 for 10 subject- Malay Language, English 1119, Physics, Chemistry, Islamic Teachings, History, Mathematics, Additional Mathematics (it’s all about calculus), and two ‘killer’ subjects, Biology and so-called ‘Grade Killer’ English for Science and Technology, or EST in short. I got 4A+’s, 2A’s, 2A-‘s, and 2 hope-killer B+’s.

I expected my dad should save around RM 140 for the SPM.

What about his results? He won’t tell me.

My dad proved me, with just an average results, he still have a good job. But still, I am heavily frustrated. WH and Fatin, for example, had a 10 A’s and 9A’s, respectively. I’m totally frustrated with that. I’m done talking about SPM.

My dad proved me numbers isn’t everything, but satisfaction and commitment should be the number one.
Just want you, the readers to know, my dad is very observant. He will observe every single inch and second of his and his children’s actions. The simplest example is my sister, Iqah. I am very sure that she was truly stressed during her school days. Being forced to study is her worst enemy. She appeared to be lazy every day at home.

My parents and I actually forced her to study so in the future she won’t regret. I encouraged her to study, so she will be in the boarding school just like me. But there is a problem. She didn’t even apply for the boarding school.
Then, comes her UPSR result, and some disappointment. She made it too bad, with two A’s and three B’s. When I asked her for the B subjects, her reply was: Science, Mathematics, and for sure, English.
I hated that. Why her English should is so bad? Simple answer from me: she was lazy.

I got 5A’s in UPSR. How could she give such results? Maybe it was our fault. We tortured her too much. I’ve done talking about Iqah. Let her make herself better.
Even though sometimes my father looks loud, but in fact he tries not to.
Offshore, he has a lot of good colleague on deck. Working with ‘black gold’ to match customer’s demand is a satisfaction to the workers. That’s why he wanted so much if I could work with him. He will be the senior mechanic, whilst I will be the junior petroleum engineer. There will be Zamhari Sr. and Zamhari Jr. on the deck. So what? I don’t know. Maybe he just wants someone to talk with or somebody to work or to cuddle with on the rig. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever it is, I tried to match his dream. Maybe he really wanted me to realize his dream. Maybe, otherwise, he just wants to see me better than him, just like other fathers in the world. Well, then, he is the best dad I ever had. I won’t want to change a father. He is just fit for me.

EPISODE 2: MY MUM
Back to 48 years ago, a year after a new Sarawak was born. It was my mother, a daughter of a paddy farmer. 48 years ago, Miri was an isolated, small town located 156 km from Bandar Seri Begawan, and a surprising 2200 km from Kuala Lumpur, its own capital. Miri is like, in my analogy, a child in a boarding school, away from his own ‘father’, but very close to its ‘guardian’.
48 years ago (until now), Miri was the heaven of oil and gas in Malaysia. Despite being the first and the oldest oil refinery in Malaysia, it was a home for acres and hectares of paddy fields. Every evening during my mother’s childhood, her siblings would line up, with a device called the ‘crab’ in their hands; they have a paddy-cutting race. I don’t know how fun it will be for I was born just decades after.
My mum came from a below average family, but better than my father because they have a vast paddy field. Her family is big, with 11 siblings’ altogether, and she was the tenth. Four of them were died before I was born.
Seven was left, and my grandmother is still alive.
She was, she is and she will always be the best mum I’ve had. She was there when I was crying for milk. She was there when I was unable to perform simple division when I was 9. She was there when I was sick.
And lastly, she was there when I was there, looking for my SPM results.
And she was there when I was back from the NS camp.
And she was there when I cried for telling the truth about me.
And she is always at home, calling me to have a hearty meal.
I ever tell her that I loved Fatin, but I never tell her the same about WH. It seems like she likes me to befriend WH compared to Fatin.
Why? I will tell about it later, dear readers.
Just that, some memories and tragedies happened made me hated her, and the latter really disappointing me. A lot.
She had beaten me when I was 6, when I was refused to go to the kindergarten.
My cousin was sick then. She didn’t go to the kindergarten and I thought to be like her, to skip class. I don’t know, until now, what actually happened to my mother. She suddenly stroked me with the cane. My whole body was hurt. I went to the class, down.
12 years later, she hurt me once again. All happened after I had my SPM results. I was to apply the scholarship to the overseas. The options were plenty and I thought to apply for engineering in the USA. But then, my mum came. It was all about misunderstanding about the scholarship. She thought that all the expenses for transport, etc. was on our own expenses, and only the courses was sponsored fully; and her idea was totally opposite.
She asked me to apply for the scholarship for studying in the country. So I replied, “For what? It is useless to apply- we can still afford the higher education in the country!” with a loud voice. But then, she forced me to do so. I wanted so much to study overseas, and then, she refused me to.
Then the day of interview came. All of the interviewee was applying to go overseas. I had no necktie; thanks to somebody that kindly lent me his. I was feeling weird that all of the interviewees are applying for overseas study. I felt really useless. I really felt I was damn stupid that day. Why I said so? I already expected I never have a chance to get a scholarship to study in Malaysia.
My heart was broken when I didn’t get what I aimed for. I went half-crazy since then. In matriculation, even until now (I am still in matriculation), I am craving for that.
I was like crazy when I was informed that Fatin was succeeded to have a sponsorship for a biotechnology studies in the USA. Then my mood slumped again. I was really down for months, even until now. I suspected that is one of the events in my life lead me to depression.
I challenged myself to struggle in matriculation so I could study overseas. Malaysian matriculation program was awarded the ISO 9000 that enables the student to study at their fullest extent in the world.
Unfortunately, I just can’t. When I take my result for the end-semester 1 exams, my heart was broken into uncountable pieces. 3.47. I hate the number. WH got a 4.
Look, I really feel disappointed with myself and my mum. My hopes are broken into pieces. I really feel down for that. And for your information, I was performing at my worst in MUET. I got a Band 4.
I feel ashamed of myself. I’m sorry Mum; I’ve to tell you that I can’t forget that moment.

EPISODE 3: MY FRENCH TEACHER

I remembered the first day I learnt French. Un, deux, trois… lundi, mardi, mercredi…
It was fun learning French, especially when it comes to verbs. We have to do some conjugations onto the words we are going to use. Sometimes, we need to add some ‘roofs’ or ‘eyebrows’ or even a ‘tail’ to some letters so that the meaning should not be changed.

But I am not going to tell about her class. As you know, EVERYTHING IS A REASON is invented and dedicated to some person who helped me to change during this stage of improvement, my teenage years. And one day, if I can publish EVERYTHING IS A REASON, I will only produce some hard-covers only for the personnel I dedicated in this story. I pledged to do so before I am 19.

I called her Mademoiselle Goh. She was a little younger than my mother, and she was the only teacher in the school; teaching French. She is just not like other teachers in the school, which some of them have their own agenda on teaching. The school itself gave too much pressure on their students to get all A’s for their PMR or SPM. Just like other boarding school in Malaysia, they push the students to study, study, and study. As a result, some of them were trying to break the stressful school rules.
I tried to be nice to all teachers in the school, but I tried my best to be the nicest in front of her. Why? Nothing.

A lot of teachers, from some sources, said that they don’t like me. The same goes to my friends. Even until now, around 3000 people hate me. But then I tell myself, “Never focus on people you hate, just love the people who loves you.”

Who loves me? Who cares about me?

Maybe I should find a best friend; I thought when I was 16. So I tried to be a best friend to somebody; maybe one day, I will find somebody. I talked to my mother, but her answer was disappointing. I talked to a counselor, disappointment results in.

Well, maybe that’s the start of my depressing years. It was 2007.
And now, it is 2011. I’ve searched everywhere for the answer; I am still searching for it. Is it high up in the sky, or just here in my heart?

I used to think that I could not go on

And life was nothing but an awful song…

And I never believed in myself, except for exams.
For 5 years, I’ve searching for the remedy for the emotion wound I tried and I hoped I could heal it. Maybe there is a reason behind it.
I’ve been hurt so many times since I was small, but I am just hard to realize that such disappointment will make me strong in the future. Tears flew down my cheeks for many times, sometimes with a smile, and sometimes it comes with heartbreak. But still, I can smile, just because I am who I am. I was never been like this before.

The journey goes and not yet ends. It will only end when there is no reason for me to end this journey I called Life.
So, what Mademoiselle told me?

Before I tell the answer, there is a story behind that. It all goes back to the calming night of 16th May 2009. I just finished my practice for the day’s performance. I remembered a teacher’s song, entitled Thank You, Teacher. It was not the ordinary song students heard during Teacher’s Day annually, instead it was a song created by a teacher when I was in primary school.

I waited for all my friends to sleep. It was 2 am.

I wrote a letter to her. I told her whatever I wanted to tell her, especially what I’ve experienced, and about the search.
I gave her the letter with a paper bag with gifts in it. I just know that she don’t like teddy bears or dolls like what my seniors did.
So again, what Mademoiselle told me?
I got the reply a few days after. And it was unexpected, she gave me an answer, and the answer touched my emotions.

“In life, sometimes, there are some ups and downs. You just can’t avoid it. OK, regarding the letter, it was so touching. I understand your problems, but try to think positively. Maybe one day you will find one.”

Since then, I tried to do good things to her, and I tried to be as nice as I can, since it was the last year I would met her. Luckily, I met her again in 2010.

She gave me a book, The Secret. “You should read it,” she said. I tried to understand what the ‘secret’ is all about, and I decided to spread the word.

When SPM was approaching, she noticed that all of my classmates looked stressful. One day after the roll-call, she asked the whole class. “Do you crave for something? Don’t you want to eat something?”
I know, she wanted to do something. All my classmates seemed to say OK. Then, she took the order, and each of the classmates paid for the price. Surprisingly, she bought us all the things we asked for. She willingly did.

Wow, I was very surprised that she could sacrifice her time to do so. All of us were waiting for the food. Instead of having the food in the dining hall, I had my fried rice.

Sometimes, people we loved so much will leave us.

20th November 2009.

It was the third day of SPM when I take the test for the ‘killer subject’ and it is the last day I became her student.
I was just like crying to see students; teachers were crying and students asked for forgiveness.

And yes, it was the last day I met her.

She told me,
“Sometimes we have to accept the truth that sometimes there will be times when you have to leave someone. But in life, as you grow up, you will definitely see that you will face a greater problem. So, just take care of yourself, and remember, try to think positively.”

I just can’t forget that she have changed me a lot. During my days without her around, I was totally screwed up. I lost my focus, I lost everything. I lost an A for Biology.
I’m sorry my dear teacher, maybe that’s the best I could do for my SPM, but I will never forget the words you told me.

EPISODE 4: FATIN, MY FIRST LOVE

I knew her the day I had my Character Building class in the National Service camp. She looks pretty in my eyes, and that’s maybe the reason for me to LIKE her, but it isn’t the reason for me to LOVE her. She was an active teenage girl in the camp. For information, she is 240 days older than me, but she looks 240 days younger that I thought.
The friendship became closer in the Integration class. I tried to be close to her, and from that moment I tried to know and recognize her backgrounds.

As time goes by, she seems to be closer to me. I sent her a lot of SMS and I always observed her when I go out of the dorm.

One thing I like about her- she like to befriend and to treat her friends in her own ways. So, how does she treat me?

In the camp, we were both observing one another. She even wore the garments with the same color as me. One day I wore pink, she did wear pink. One day she wore orange, she wore orange. Most of the times, we wear blue.

I like to disturb and see her in the dining hall, because it is one of the closest point I could met her. The closest will be the classrooms.
I saw that she is very committed to the friendship when she texted me a lot and tried to match me. Just like Mademoiselle Goh, we shared a lot of stories together: our parents, our interests, ourselves, our friends, our schools…etc. Based on the stories she told me since I knew her, she is far better than me in some aspects. She was an active teen, and participated a lot in activities. She is also a brilliant girl.

That is when I started to use the SMS a lot. It was a satisfaction to SMS somebody, just like other teens, especially to the opposite sex. Sometimes, girls understand me better than the guys. I started to be close to the girls in the camp just because I never have a chance to befriend girls in the school so close.

Honestly, maybe I am a perfectionist, but sometimes, I realize; being perfect is not perfect enough. I tried to be as good as I can, but maybe my best is just not good enough.

I learnt to be myself since then. So, in the camp I observe the ‘warriors’. I have found that teens are all different in their way of thinking. Some of them looked not to take the benefits from the program. Some of them resisted the change in them. Some of them fortunately changed a lot. I learnt that sometimes change is unnecessary if I don’t have a reason for it. But now, everything is a reason for me to alter my attitude.

Yes, everything is a reason for me to change. Yet, I am still resisting the change. Let me take my time, OK. A small change could take years, so you can imagine how hard it is to change. And yet, everything is a reason for this bad feeling I experienced. One of the definite reasons is Fatin, but I’m not blaming her for this.

And that’s why I wrote EVERYTHING IS A REASON. I tried to forget the grief, the bad memories and the depression I faced. I do this solely to say aloud that I want so much to make myself better than what I have right now.

See, I was on the verge of breaking down

Sometimes silence can be so loud

There are miracles in life I must achieve

But first I know it starts inside of me

If I can see it

Then I can do it

If I just believe it

There’s nothing to it

Oh, yeah?
If that’s the case, I won’t be like now. It is just a matter of lack of self-esteem and self-confidence. Many of my friends said I am a very confident teenager, and some said that I have a strong determination to achieve something in my life. Just that, I don’t know what actually happened to me and put me down. Perhaps it is an unexplainable emotion that haunts me.
Who knows?

Fatin contacted me a lot after the 67-day program. Every day, it is a must for me to SMS her. I seldom called her. Sometimes, I called her in 3 o’clock in the morning. Then my mother comes. She was a little puzzled when I always talk to Fatin to 3 am in the morning.
Sometimes, we were just talking about the same things. We were keeping on repeating stories.

One day, my mother scolded me.

She is actually irritated to see me holding the hand phone most of the time at home. As a response, I am just keep on shouting.

But still, I kept on contacting her until one day when I was really shocked. We are both applying for scholarship. I just couldn’t accept the truth that she will go to leave me maybe forever one day. She is in a sponsorship to study in the USA. She is currently in the American Degree Transfer Program in a college in Shah Alam, 2200 km away from me.

From then, the guilt haunted me. I was so ashamed of myself. I cried a lot, until I entered matriculation. I am crying, and crying, and crying. Then, I ran for the Student Representative election. I won 344 votes, leaving my vote behind.

At least, it heals me a little, and lately, it hurts me more severely than before. How this guilt screwed me up. But we are still in contact, and I wanted so much to be beside her. However, she said that she has somebody right now. I just can’t do anything, so I just say that maybe I am not for her.

Still, she shares her grief and sadness, and laughter to me. I’ve seen her boyfriend’s picture. I just was speechless. I think he is far better than me.

Now, I’ve lost my first love, but still I can do something to make her love me, even though we are friends. Who taught me about that? Thanks to TeensHealthTM and MyHealthTM portals.

My advice to my friends: sometimes you can enjoy some memorable moments with your beloved friend, without being in a date.

The guilt still haunts me until now, and it seems that I need somebody to talk. Luckily, in matriculation, I met somebody that may help me. I told all my secrets to her, and I don’t permit her to tell anyone. Who is her?

You’ll find out in the next chapter.

CHAPTER 5

IN MEMORY OF MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS

HARD and triggering. That’s the stress I have to face in almost a year. Even though it will go to end, I’m still struggling to live in this depressing life of a student.
I had a big circle of friends. I miss them, really. We are all 19, and we study in the same college. But time matters a lot. Four of them left the circle, and now, the memory often came, with tears of joy and grief in advance.
I participated in the election of the Students’ Representative Council. As a result, 2o representative were elected by the multi-vote ballot system. I never thought that the moment changed my life forever.
From then, all of us look like brothers and sisters; the bond of friendship is like a big chain, a big circle. We went out together, we study together, we had lunch (and dinner) together, we ‘travel’ to Perak together, and we do almost everything together. It was a wonderful semester, perhaps the most wonderful months in my life. But as time passes by, in the end, the laughter and excitement fades eventually.
Two of them are leaving for doing medicine in Egypt. One of them is leaving for a diploma and one of them left the college to work.
Yes, the joy is fading and eventually I lost myself. The second semester is like a hell on earth. I am mentally tortured. I lost the friends that motivated me, that share their stories and jokes to me, that I accept as my brothers and sisters. They are, honestly, the best circle of friends I ever had.
Things are getting worse and the circle is broken. Ever since, we hardly meet except for meetings and official ceremonies.
I admit that I fell in love with someone in the circle of friends. I don’t know why, but it seems that her humility and her personality became a major factor of it. If I don’t see her for a day, I don’t feel good for the entire day. I don’t think that it will return all the friends back, but at least it helps. Since the day I noticed I faced depression, she helped me a lot to gain back my confidence and happiness. Even though right now the depressive bouts never disappear, at least I could taste the joy of my teenage years.
And still, I wanted to have the circle back. After the circle breaks, we never go out together, we never study together, and we never celebrate birthdays together. My birthday was the last. It was like my last 9th November.
I wanted them to return. I really missed them. I want to go out together, to laugh together, to have lunch together, to study together, and to enjoy our teenage life together, AGAIN.

Posted April 25, 2011 by princerighty1 in EVERYTHING IS A REASON

The Novel- EVERYTHING IS A REASON Chapter 1   Leave a comment

PREFACE

How can I describe this? Or rather, what word should I use to express my feelings? My sadness is tearless, my laughter is emotionless. I feel bad of everything – being a Student Representative, out of rice at the canteen, out of water in the dorms, losing a girlfriend, whatsoever, whatsoever. Doing tutorials, laboratory experiments, attending lectures are like useless for me. I bet I will get a 4, but it seems like far from yes.
I always make a conclusion, but conclusions are terrible. I don’t know what’s good about me. I’m a 100 kg, 18 years old, teenage boy. That’s not the main reason, maybe…

I loved motivation talks, because I was an active but talkative teenager. And that was all history. Bright history. But then, when I’m in Form 3, when I was 14 years old, something started to ruin myself. I couldn’t stop crying.

For nothing, I cried.

Yet I searched for the reason. But nothing found.

Sometimes, everything is the reason for the strange feeling. It still haunts me now… and it worsens. I do contact the counselor for 12 times – 6 times in school, 6 times in college – and the appointments are worthless.

My feelings start to jumble up. All of my friends walk away of me. Nobody tries to help me. Assignments are mounting. Pressure is rising.
Even my parents, were the victims of this endless emotion. I am easily losing my temper even with a playful tease. I couldn’t see the bright side.
Everything leaves scars in my heart. It hurts. A lot.

Something is not right. Now I always feel sad, but I hardly cried.

Suicide? I thought about it almost 100 times for the past 3 years. And yet, it is forbidden.

Anything to make me happy? At least it heals me a little.

I feel guilty, confused, angry, sad, cruel, emotionless… right now.

PART 1: LIFE IS TERRIBLE

Episode 1

Monday, November 15, 2010

It was the chemistry lecture in the lecture hall. Miss Lee is giving the lecture about the electrochemical processes in a galvanic cell. When I entered the class, I felt very energetic, no one was more energetic then me, when I asked, “Miss, what’s the meaning of ‘Pt’?”

It’s platinum, used in the reaction between chlorine gas and sodium metal in a Daniell cell.

Minutes passed, I was still jotting down the notes, with a Faber-Castell in my hand. I left my papers today, so a kind buddy gave me a piece of paper.

Just an hour before, Mr. Ding’s class was on. The math tutorial was a truly boring but funny moment.

I just didn’t complete my tutorial exercises, and actually, I felt guilty for that. I supposed to complete it a night before, but I wasn’t. I took a day to relax after the tiring MUET exam on the 13th. I think, it was a right choice for me to take a day to forget everything about MUET. I’m going to take IELTS next year.

The physics lecture was on after the chemistry lecture. It’s Mr. Husaine, the lecturer that nearly changed me after he torn my assignment in semester 1. OK, let’s forget it. I don’t want to bother about it anymore. My mum said that it might be a good indicator that I’ll get a CGPA of 4.

He taught us about the refraction of light in spherical mirror. It was just OK except…

A couple of minutes before the class ends, something is not right. My tears flew down my cheeks suddenly. My mood was gloomy. What demon possessed my mind, what am I thinking about, what Mr. Husaine taught me… all those questions concluded one concrete answer, I DON’T KNOW.

I stepped out of the lecture hall when his last word is spoken. With a gloomy face, I accelerated my pace, I went to the mosque, with a thought of peace may be found there. It heals me a little.

After, a math lecture is held. It was very hot inside, and we learnt something more difficult than Mr. Husaine’s lecture.

And still, I just can’t control my feelings and I at last, I went back to the dorm, and pray, and write.

What’s happened to me, actually?

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

It was my 18th birthday. I waited for the first person who wished me a ‘Happy Birthday’. I received an SMS from Elsy, a boy-like girl which working as the Deputy Economic Exco for the Student Representatives Council; then, my good friend, Nazrin, and then, my first and love, Fatin. I called Fatin that night.

She was just recovered from heartbreak. We shared everything that night, from her last love to my personal matter. Honestly, I told her that I just can’t forget her. She is my first love. I saw her for the last time on 9th March, exactly at 10.35 pm when I went back from the National Service camp. I missed her so much. He broke my heart twice, but still, I loved her.

I sung Richard Marx’s Right Here Waiting to her…

Wherever you go, whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes, overwhelms or heartbreaks
I will be right here waiting for you…

I wanted so much to say I LOVE YOU to her. The last time I said was a few days before the month of Ramadan starts. Then, for 3 months after, I didn’t say, SMS or even chatted with her via Facebook.

I said, “If you wanted to find better man, please give whatever the best you want to give to her without hurting your pride. But if all of them disappoint you, I’m waiting for you…”

And my tears flew down after the call…

The next day, I turned energetic like a motor. All classes are like excitements for me.

But that evening…

(Firstly, i want to say sorry if you are waiting for this moment… actually, I was too stressed to write. I have plenty of work to do, and this is what i could write. In 2011, Everything Is A Reason part 2 will be published, if God is willing. Everything Is A Reason is actually a real story, and I will write it during my free time or hen assignments have been accomplished. I hope that this story will not be used for personal matters or been copyrighted by others, because what you do reflects who you are. Thank you.)

Part 1.2

1996
It was my kindergarten year. TV programmes are boring for bad graphics. But still, P.Ramlee’s movies are the top choices. Tell me, what old comedies are not interesting? Besides old-and-white projection, their talent is unforgettable.
That’s not the story.
It was all began when I was 4.
First incident: somewhere when Power Rangers became famous.
The 5 Power Rangers made me crazy those days. They influenced me with their heroic actions: destroying, fighting, being rude, etc. I wondered to become a black Power Ranger, with excellent superpower, strong and muscular body, and high-tech weapons.
Sometimes, I dreamt about the Power Rangers.
Maybe, it was the reason of my swollen head. One day, my cousins and I was playing outside. We jumped around on that sunny day. Well, children are unstoppable.
Then, I followed them. Suddenly, I fell down. I landed on my head. It hurts a lot. My head was swollen, my legs sprained, and I cried a lot.
It left an undisappearable mark in my head.

1998
Second incident: around a month before I have a sister.
My mother was very sick then. I worried, and I wanted to follow her to the hospital. Went in hurry, my aunt refused to bring me along. Worse, I have to be with my dad. Sadly too, my father have to stop working that day, he have to take care of my mum.
It was the second wave of the Great Depression in Malaysia.
My hunger came. I wanted to eat something.
I opened the fridge, famished. Suddenly, that whole plate of sliced papaya fell onto my small feet. Ouch… I thought I will be scolded by my dad. So I ran to another aunt beside. I cried, a lot, to relieve that intensing pain.

Part 1.3

Friday, December 17, 2010

Why should I feel stressed? It is enough for me: unfinished assignments, unfinished worksheets for my activities for the Academic Bureau of SRC, pending works, being scolded in class, heartbreak, argument with my roommate, argument with my family, less time to chill out…
It was a bad Friday.
It was a crap. Totally crap. I was totally down the whole day. Thought to commit suicide again, I tried to fight the ‘demon’ in me. I don’t know what happened to me…. all things are going bad right now. I tried to manage them, and I was badly trapped in the net. At least, I tried.
Thinking back of my PSPM result, I was totally terrified. Nobody knows. 3.47 are considerably very good for most of the students, but not me. I’m actually, seriously, jealous with all 207 4.00 achievers.
Totally jealous.
It haunts me a lot. I was nearly gone crazy of that. I HATE myself right now.
Let me tell you what actually happened to me.
I think that I was nearly crazy. Too much pressure is exerted on my mind. I experience hypertension, I experience stress, I experience anxiety, and I may experience depression… ouch!
2010 is the toughest year in my life. I’ve been in the National Service, I’ve been interviewed for a scholarship, and I’ve been given a lot of things in the college…
And yet, 2010 taught me to be a strong person. I’ve survived the stress, the hypertension, the depression, the sadness, the heartbreak…
But still, mishaps come and go. I still managed to overcome them, or at least just to get rid of those bad feelings. I took a jog, I talked to my friends, I do Facebook, I went out alone, I studied physics, I do chemistry, I do math, I do pray… I am willing to do almost anything just to get rid of all those feelings.
Yet, life is still enough for me to withstand. I was really near to suicide almost 130 times.
That’s when advices are totally useless. The only thing I need is comfort. Nobody wants to comfort me. Some silly reasons: “You are 18! You are a man, guy! You should know how to manage your emotions!”
Whatever!

Tuesday, December 22 2010

I couldn’t give my fullest attention in class. Ah, it seemed ridiculous in class. Lectures, tutorials, assignments… I repeated this for times in this story. I mentioned about it hundreds of times. Maybe it is not the main cause of my long-lasting bad feeling.
But yet, if education is not a good thing, why it is made compulsory?
Many lecturers are actually taught us the theory but we didn’t see the value within it. A good lecturer should educate, motivate and help their students. A good student, anyhow, should learn, understand, and respect their respective teachers or lecturers (I prefer them to be referred as teachers).
And there’s no doubt in this matter. It will seem great if the students can give the best in learning if they couldn’t perform well in exams. And most of the teachers and students didn’t see the point.
What actually happened to me?
Let’s back to my story. It was WH’s birthday. Surprisingly, I didn’t see her, in every inch of the college I walked. Weird to think about and she seemed to forget her own birthday, and she said, “I’m busy right now!” What a hardworking girl! WH is one of the closest members of the SRC to me.
She has a sense of care towards all of her friends and buddies, including me. I feel very grateful for being in the SRC for it has kind members, and WH is my vice-Exco.
I gave her 2 big pieces of choc, and a nice card. It’s not actually a birthday card, it’s a friendship card. I gave it special for her, and for it was also my friend Ali’s birthday, I gave him the same objects I gave WH, but differ in style. Both cards are filled with my feelings.
These are what I wrote in WH’s card (or rather, have a close meaning)
“Dear friend, honestly, you are one of the closest friends I ever had. Since I befriend you, many things have changed, and you helped me a lot to change myself. But as time goes by, and our studies are getting to the end, I feel that we won’t meet again… (How sad the tone is…Hahaha). Maybe because I’m depressed and almost committing suicide, most of my friends get away from me. Luckily, I’ve you. You are one of the most caring friends I ever have. And for that, thank you for the friendship we cherished from the first day I know you. Lastly, good luck in your life, and see you in the future.
P/s: When are you going to have lunch with me?”
These are what I wrote in Ali’s card.
“Dear Ali, even though I don’t like you for some reasons, I like you for one reason: you like to share your thoughts with me. Maybe one day you will be in the same family with me, and you wanted to buy Liverpool, so, good luck in your future.
P/s: If you going to buy Liverpool, can you buy Manchester United altogether? Later I’ll pay you back.”
Ali, as far as I remembered, is a very good guy. He never showed his burden when he was almost penniless. I was once, almost penniless, and my wallet and my bank account was empty. What are left in my locker were 1 kg of spaghetti, 3 cans of Campbell’s spaghetti gravy and one jar of Leggo’s Napolitano spaghetti sauce. Luckily I had a Coleman insulated box, so I could carry my lunch everywhere.
I remembered the moment when Ali is looking for food in the SRC’s ‘office’. Around August, during Ramadan, we have plenty of food inside. Just say it: biscuits, sweets, noodles, onions, garlic, and even chips- and I could say that the SRC was never starving, until sometime in September.
I brought the spaghetti into the office. There was starving, famishing Ali.
“Do you have anything to munch?”
I had half a kilogram of cooked spaghetti and an opened can of Campbell’s Mushroom spaghetti sauce. I shared to him. I know how starving he is when he had the spaghetti. Actually, we were both starving.
Lately, he said to me he wants to be a businessman. “Of what?” I said.
“I wanted to be a rich man. I wanted to buy Liverpool, just because I like Liverpool,” he said.

PART 1.4
Saturday, 2nd January 2010 ~ Wednesday, 10th March 2010

Back down memory lane, I was in the National Service Training in Jugra Camp in Banting, Selangor.
It was the very first day in my life, been separated from my parents by the South China Sea. 2200 km of the flight I took made me proud to be a Sarawakian in the ‘New World’ of Malaysia, the great Malaysian Peninsula.
But, I never expected that the experience would change my life a lot.
The first time I stepped on the foreign soil, it feels like maybe it will be very exciting to be in the NS. And yet, in that 67 days (or rather 66 days, 12 hours, 20 minutes), I changed from an ungrateful person to a very thankful individual. I learned how to be honest, how to cope with hard situations, how to make friends and how to feel how gifted I was to be.
And the most important, I learned how to be and thank myself. But still, I feel grateful to gain some experience that every teenager should has.
In every circumstance in the camp, self-discipline is the number one. Punctuality is a must. There is no reason for being late, but still most of the so-called ‘warriors’ are not a warrior enough.
I lived in the B2 block, which accommodated 25 guys. I was the leader, and most of the time, I was never referred to as a leader. Moreover, some of them denied my leadership. I was the one that became their ‘servant’. They thought they are powerful enough to let me down. Well, reality was opposite.
I was asked to be the Bravo leader for 6 days. So, I have to shout here and there, I have to ensure the whole company to be in time, I have to ensure them to line up properly before any activities in front of the dormitory, I have to inform anyone that absent (with reasons of absence), etc.etc.
Most of the Bravo members (especially boys) are, well, lack of self discipline. I could see it in everything they do: being late in activities, like to start fights, smoking, being lazy, likes to see others to suffer, and many more. They seemed not to obey the rules, but to disobey them.
And maybe, I could say that the National Service is nothing to them; National Service doesn’t change them. Some do smoking, and they never stops. Some do annoying other ‘warriors’ and they never stop.
In contrast, National Service turned me 360 degrees.
And, wonders do happen, too.
It all starts when I was in the Character Building (CB) class. I still remember there are 7 rules in the CB class. They all had been implemented to help trainees to present the best in themselves and others. And surprisingly, CB classes are like kindergarten.
In the first days of CB class, we learned how to present the best in ourselves. We learned how to be honest, how to love ourselves, how to think creatively, and how to use our right brain. We are asked to draw anything we’ve done in the previous day, and what we learned from the previous experience. Sometimes, we were asked to express our feelings in front of the class. I’ve came out twice.
Then I met a guy named Justin. He was a son of an editor of The Star.
I met him during the second CB class. That’s when I started to be close to him. I invited him to join my group.
From then, I shared a lot about myself to him. Honestly, I believe in 1Malaysia concept: to live in harmony, even in a multiracial community. Justin’s story will be continued soon.
The second module of CB is to help trainees to build self-confidence and to present the best in others. We learned how to overcome arguments, how to control our emotions wisely, how to set goals in life and how to plan for success.
There’s a story about a man around 1930’s. There was a 15 year-old teenager listing down all his 127 desires in life. Before been introduced to the boy, we are asked to do the same in 5 minutes. I managed to write 57.
The boy set up a long list of his aims, and the list is named ‘My Life List’. Out of 127, 109 were accomplished when he was 60. I was totally surprised. I never have an aim for life. Hovering around the list, I asked myself, “can I do what he’d done?” Then, I realized something. I think I have been late to reconstruct my future. That’s one of the causes of the depression I faced. I was late. I am.
As time goes by, my life changed a lot. A lot of people influenced me in the way of thinking. One of them is Fatin.
Fatin is a girl, 240 days older than me, which always keep in touch with me during my tough times. She was on the line when I felt down a few months after the program ends. She was a student of MRSM Taiping. She got 9 A’s for her SPM.
I have been close to her during the Integration class (nothing to do with calculus, instead, to introduce the rich diversity of culture in Malaysia). I started to be close when I just was playful in my manners and words. There were playful teases, and just jokes. But surprisingly, I liked how she acted. She is pretty, cute and full with smiles.
In the camp, I reserved a flooding smile only for her. From that class, I began to know her. I still remember the first time she sent me an SMS. ‘If today is the Day of being Honest, what will you say to me? Remember, reply me first!’
I replied her in the next 24 hours.
‘You’re lying! Where did you found the Day of Being Honest?’
Since then, I shared a lot with her. All my 600 free SMS were used. I couldn’t forget her. Every day is a torture for me. Seeing her face is a must for me every day in the camp. I wanted to see her tête-a-tête. I think this is my first love. I never fall in love before.
My friends might think that my first love was an Indian girl in my secondary school. When I was in Form 5, she was in Form 1. She was the only Indian in the batch, and maybe because of it, I liked her. I always asked his friends to send my regards to her. We were ever exchanging ‘love letters’ since she knew me, and I ever asked someone to be the ‘postman’. The whole Form 5 batch, anyway, surprised. They never expected such things would happen, including me.
But honestly, I don’t really love her. Maybe I liked her, but I never loved her.
But still, until now, she keeps on contacting me on the line.
That’s enough for her. Let’s back to the story.
I learnt a lot from the NS. I remember when I was doing the ‘flying fox’. That’s totally beyond my expectation and my phobia. The tower is around 80 feet high and the trail is 200 meters long. That’s enough to produce vertigo.
It was a sunny Wednesday in the camp. After taking a nap after a charity work in a kindergarten in Banting, the whole company is asked to assemble in front of the tower. Looking at the tower, the adrenalin rushes throughout the body. I wouldn’t expect this to happen, actually. But I have a chance to cool down, because it was the girls which tried it first. I saw them shouting en route to the end of the trail. They seemed keen to do so.
Then, my turn to have the travel comes. I was the first boy to do so.
Looking down, the adrenalin rushed again to my entire body. Fear stroked me back. It was embarrassing that I took 2 minutes before I was to shout and slide down. Then, in the journey, I saw the beauty of fear itself. That was the shortest 30 seconds in my life before a big splash happened. ‘Whoosh!’
I fell into the water. Half of my body was wet, and I have to dry my boots. Anyway, I really thanked myself that I’ve done a fear-threatening act.
Actually, I never planned to tell a lot about the NS, and I think that it’s better for me to just summarize.
After 66 days of life-changing, personality-shifting and self-confidence-enhancement, it was time for me to leave. It was a gloomy Tuesday. There was the program-closing ceremony in the open hall. Full of gloom, we all sang the Negaraku with a very sad tone. I never saw a gloomy celebration like this before. We were back home, ending our program, and taking our SPM results on the 11th March.
The commandant gave a speech, and then came the gloomiest part when we were shaking hands with the staffs, the trainers, and our friends, as a symbolic for the end of the program. Then, I saw Fatin and Justin. I saw Fatin cried a lot. Maybe she was really appreciating the moment she was there. I saw Justin. He wasn’t look sad at all. I cried then on his shoulder. The shirt he wore was wet of my tears.
Actually, I appreciate everything I got in the camp. I appreciated Justin, I appreciated Fatin, I appreciated the lesson I learnt during the program. Some of my friends hugged me, even the ones I hate the most.
And then leaving time arrives. It was 3 o’ clock, but all the boys refused to sleep.
They wanted to send us back, but sadly, Justin and Fatin weren’t there. Justin were back home early, and Fatin was sleeping, not noticed that I was going back home.
Luckily, her friend, Zu came that morning.
Zu gave me a small bag containing a packet of Cheezels, Fatin’s favorite pencil case, some sweets, and some pictures of her. I’ve nothing to give, just telling Zu that I loved her so much.
Sending regards to her, I saw tears flowing down her cheeks.
I saw Fatin for the last time on 9th March 2010, 10.35 pm. I saw Justin for the last time, somehow too early, on the same day, on 11.30 am, of which it was the very last time I contacted him before he had something really bad to me in my absence.
Going into the bus, I was quite sad and depressed. “Why doesn’t she want to see me today? Or, does she hate or trying to avoid me?” I talked to myself. I left the camp exactly on 10th March 2010, on 4.10 am. I left the Peninsula for Miri via KLIA. It was the first flight of the day. With the 15 ringgit I had, I had McDonalds for my breakfast. In KLIA, the grief was exaggerated but I quite relieved when I saw my old schoolmates. We are all waiting for our SPM results. That grief is actually part of the greater and tougher journey in my life after the National Service.
Goodbye, National Service, thank you for teaching me a lot about life.


Posted April 25, 2011 by princerighty1 in EVERYTHING IS A REASON

THE HISTORY IS PAST, THE REALITY IS PRESENT   Leave a comment

I’ve completed my matriculation course in 20th April 2011. Now, and yet, the history is past, and the reality i’ve to face is present.

I missed my friends and lecturers so much. I’ve been there for 11 months, and I learned a lot during that very short moment. Exams passes by, lectures are all completed, the joy fades, and it’s time to move on.

And yes, I have to move on.

I’ve a story to share. There’s a boy in the college. He is loud, cheerful, and rich with smiles. Everyone he sees will receive a big smile. Yet, he likes to smile to everyone. He is the Academic Exco in the Student Representatives. Well, he has good friends in the SR, and luckily he has good roommates.

Good times, unfortunately, doesn’t last that long.

27 June 2010, the moment he faced the biggest barrier in life came. After some messages received from his first love 2000 kilometers away, he began to cry. The self-confidence he gained in 17 years was lost in that very moment, but he still smiled at his friends. A lot of friends tried to help him, including a Chinese girl, his own vice-Exco. He felt very lonely, very heartless. He feels that he should die then. There is 200 suicide attempts he made, but thank God all are failed.

Counselors tried to help him for 16 times, but still there’s no solution. The depression he faced made him down for months, but it is also a factor for him to succeed. And he did it.

30th November 2010, all students are waiting to receive their transcript for the first semester examination. He have to work inside the hall, so he was the first 16 to receive the transcripts. And the result… 3.47. that’s the number he remembered until now. 4 of the SR members got 4.00 (the highest is 4.00). No problem, he thought. but pity him, the result turns him worse.

His roommates are all in the interval of 2.00 to 2.99. He was so sad. After one week, a roommate left the room. A week after, a roommate turned his face away from him. Every day in the room is like Hell. Japanese songs, comics, silly comments… all written by him on my locker. He hated him so much, until God gave him strength through advices from a Chinese girl. Yes, she is his own deputy Exco. She is very kind to him. She is the one who saved him from committing suicide on 10th January 2011.

Then, he realized something. “What will happen to her smile if I kill myself in this very moment?

She forced him to think positive and to promise her one thing- he won’t kill himself in whatever situation it is. From then, they became good friends. They support and advise each other. His life became better and calmer since then.

His roommate left the room in 21st April 2011. Without hugs and greetings, he left the room. The boy turned sad. Very, very sad. But life must go on, he thought.

He left the college the next day, 22nd April 2011. His good friend supposed to leave on the same day, but due to some reasons, she was not. The last thing he do to the girl is a 30-minute talk in the college. After a pat on his shoulder, he didn’t realize that it was the last time he will meet the friend he love the most. The last time he saw her face was on 8.45 pm in the same day in the airport.

Well, that is the saddest moment in his life. He wanted to cry, but tears will never wash down the sadness. His hope was only one then, to have hours more to talk to her.

Well, the boy is me.

Posted April 25, 2011 by princerighty1 in FRIENDS

Hello world!   1 comment

Welcome to the official blog of the Founder of the Communist-Socialist Republic of  Queen Righty. I am Prince Righty 1, born in Monday, 9 November 1992/14 Jamadil Awal 1413/13 Cheshvan 5753. I founded the Queen Righty in 2007 and I am still the president of Queen Righty until now.

I like to have fun but I hate alcohol, cigarettes, sex, and anything else related. I like to befriend everyone and I never choose my friends. I like to read, but i hate books and magazines that made me stupid, inconvenient and gossipy. I like politics, but I hate the acts of the oppositions to topple down the government, AND OTHERWISE, unless they are loyal.

This blog is not about politics, and I establish it to share anything I’d like to share. I am not a communist or a capitalist or a socialist or a loyalist or a republican or a democrat or a progressive or a conservative or a leftist or a rightist or a centrist, but I am who I am.

Love,

PRINCE RIGHTY 1

Posted April 25, 2011 by princerighty1 in FRIENDS