Finally I would write how's it been in New York so far.

It's been great, and though I struggle to get over jetlag and the fact that I am falling asleep by 8pm here, I'm fine, getting used to the food. Food? Well, I've been surviving off pizza and free burritos from Chipotle. And so far, I'm still alive, I don't seem to be losing any weight whatsoever, and life seems to go on pretty much as usual. Everyone here is in a fun mood, I guess because classes haven't yet started.

I went down to Times Square just now, and it was like how it was in the movies, loads of lights, loads of cars and loads of legendary New York cabs. Really, I wouldn't dare cross the road with one of those around. But here in New York, it's the pedestrians who rule the street. They just cross any street they want, clog up the traffic and they just jaywalk right in front of the police and police department.

I guess I'm adjusting well to life around, I got to know some people. I haven't been to one of those college parties that everyone seems to know about, where people get pissed drunk and puke all over the place, and screw around like horny monkeys. But everything is an eye opening experience here. The subway stations here in New York are bloody hell of a mess, and the stations are as hot has hell. Yeah, pretty much chaotic stuff happens around, but I'm learning something new every moment.

What more can I say? I haven't visited Ground Zero or the Empire State Building. But I can tell you, loads of New Yorkers own dogs. And I must pity those dogs, because they all look damn sad. I'm serious, they all look like they have droopy faces, they can't run about and they are so miserable. I've seen this poodle that was dyed neon pink, and carried around by it's owner. And hell, I'm surprised and sad for the dog. But loads of people own dogs and you can see them walking dogs from the morning to the evening. And I figured, hey if you love dogs, get a house, move out of New York.

The parks in New York are cool. Really cool. Everyone just goes to parks, and there are cheap hotdogs and some people put on interesting shows. And there are squirrels in the park, who seem like hell, tame. They chase around playfully and they don't care whether people are around. And some of the pigeons are so tame that they only walk aside when you brush by them. Though one of my roommates did try to grab one, it fluttered a short distance away. One day, when I'm out of money, that's gonna be my dinner. And I'm gonna sleep in the park.

I'm still getting used to the layout of the city. Although it seems pretty easy to understand the street system, it's not easy to walk the streets. At least, my sense of direction seems to be screwed up by the tall buildings everywhere. Oh well.

New Yorkers love coffee, it seems to be the only thing that keeps them going in the morning, and all through the day. New Yorkers always walk around in the early morning with a cup of coffee in their hands. I wonder if it's some sort of New York thing.

Man, there's a lot of happening stuff around here, I guess I'll see less once classes begin. But meeting my lecturers ought to be good. By the way, I bought two cigars from Dubai Duty Free Shop. Maybe two cigars will mean 2 A's in 2 classes for me. Yeah, that's the way.

The music boomed to a close, and then fireworks blossomed in the sky. Clouds of smoke billowed across the stage and flashing psychedelic lights lit up the stadium. A huge wave, a gracious bow. And he disappears in a cloud of smoke. And then, Jason has left the building!

It was the kind of place that politicians and the rest of the world forgot. Two rows of unkempt buildings squated over the lone street. The bright neon orange vulgarities which scarred the mouldy walls were the only colour in the otherwise drab street.

A glint of sunlight in overcast skies reflected off broken shards on the sidewalk. Waste litter the sides of the streets, the smell of rotting flesh wafts around, trapped within the misery of the street. A pool of vomit, a pile of putrid waste sit by the broken door. On both sides of the street, in the four-storey buildings, dwarfed and hidden by the crowning skyline of the city, lay four-storeys of stories that never make it out of the street.

Sometimes you can find six or seven bodies in one of the rooms of that four-storey building, lying in their own faeces and vomit. As hosts to flies and disease harbringers. A burnt out candle shrivels at one corner of the room, amid layers of newspaper soaked in blood. A few empty syringes lay nearby, broken and empty as their users. A body twitches and moans. It stirs and brushes away the flies settling on an open wound on its face. And it slumps to the floor again, unable to muster any strength to fight the inevitable.

And there is no where else to go to. Nowhere else, but this rat's nest, called home.

She glides slowly through the glade. The morning breeze leaves a soft kiss on her lips from afar and the rays from the sun falls gently upon her shoulders. It is green, green for miles around, with the occasional spots of white and yellow of the wild flowers which speckle the glade. And she walks on unaware, her eyes glazed and her head low.

She approaches a small pool of water, the only bare blemish in the whole glade. She slowly kneels and gazes into the shallow depths and wishes for a sign. A sigh carried off by the wind; all she sees is her own eyes, looking back at her, into her. The undisturbed waters could only reveal what it saw.

Hope is a fragile feeling, like a flower which withers come winter. Yet it returns every spring, never yielding or dying. So she waits by the pond, in the glade. Who she waits for, no one knows. What she hopes for, no one knows. And she waits and hopes, because the tapestry of fate weaves a story, and the end has yet to be told.

Don't you hate it when you wake up, thinking it was last week only to realise that tomorrow was six days ago and that you have less time than you thought?

Dammit.

Okay, here's a brief look into the fan-mail I've recieved so far. I try to reply all, but then really... who has the time?


Dear RavenHawk,
I think you are a depressed and sick (expletive) who have nothing but sick and disgusting thoughts. I think people like you should be shot dead and put into mental institutions for all the evil you have wrought on this world. Save the children!
Disgusted Parent

Dear Disgusted Parent,
Now why would you want to put dead cadavers into a mental institution? Besides, I just say it, I don't do it. Now where's my shotgun?
RavenHawk

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Dear RavenHawk,
Are you anti-semitic?
ImaJew

Dear ImaJew
Well if anti-semitics are people who hate Jews, yes I guess I am. I try to hate everyone indiscriminately.
RavenHawk

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Dear RavenHawk,
I love your blog! Let's get married!
YoungSexyHotBlondeChick

Dear YoungSexyHotBlondeChick,
I appreciate your love and all, but gut feeling says, all young, sexy, hot, blonde chicks on the Internet are actually 40-year old, hairy, drunk, jobless, horny, ugly people who can't get a date on Saturday night. I'll pass.
RavenHawk

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h3y l00s3r,
1 0wNz j00r 4$$! g3t 0ff da (expletive) n3t j0 (expletive) l00s3r!
1337 M4St4!!!

Dear 1337 M4St$!!!
The Roman alphabet was invented for a reason. But I guess you were probably from pre-literacy times.
RavenHawk

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Dear Sir,
We are giving away free credit cards and you are just the lucky recipient of one of our great giveaways. Please reply so that we may send you your free credit card right away.
YourFriendlyRipOffCompany

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Hey,
Your car is blocking my driveway!
IrateNeighbour

Dear IrateNeighbour,
I don't have a car.
RavenHawk

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Help,
I feel like kiling myself. I'm so alone. Please, would someone hear my pleas for help?
Suicidal

Dear Suicidal,
Would you like to borrow my shotgun?
RavenHawk

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Dear blogger,
I find your sense of humour dark, your tone offensive, your writings drivel, your ideas juvenile, your blog black, your suggestions insulting, your replies derogatory and you insane. I hope you crawl back into the hole you came out of and die!
Insulted

Dear Insulted,
And you still read my blog? I'm flattered.
RavenHawk

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Dear Sir,
This is to inform you that we are suing you for your inflamatory, anti-semitic and anarchist views and publishing them on the Internet encouraging everyone to follow your footsteps. You are hereby ordered to appear in court tomorrow on the 16th August 2004. Have a pleasant day.
LawyerFromHell

Dear LawyerFromHell,
Thank you for your letter. However, I am trying to show the public that they should NOT be like me. I don't wish to serve as an example to the world. Thank you and you'll be hearing from my own lawyer from hell.
RavenHawk

It is very surprising how a small thing can ruin your mood for the rest of the day. Really. I try not to let anything get to me. But I can't help feeling disappointed.

Yeah, nuff crap.

Dear friends, fans and critics,

I'm pretty sure you all out there aren't exactly my friends, and I must be delusional to think that I have fans, therefore everyone's a critic.

Somehow, the quality and standard of my writing have depreciated beyond the level of drivel that I usually write, and I blame this on lack of external stimulus of any kind. As my life involves just the television, newspaper and Internet, there has been very little to write about. So while I find something interesting and good to write about, I would just like to apologise for this you have to put up with.

I know you people don't exactly expect a quick pick-me-up or laugh when you visit my site. In fact I'm wondering why you guys keep returning on and on and on. I'm really happy that you people do keep coming back. I think that's because you like to see what I've written, rather than I've got a gun pointed at your head asking you guys to visit.

Anyway, news is I'm heading over to New York on the 28th of August. How can I describe my feelings at the thought of this? Tired, lethargic and indifferent. I'm lying if I tell you that. How would you like it if you had to go someplace far away with no idea of what you were doing or what is going to happen? It is easy to read on paper, and easy to just look and understand what is going on. But to feel what is going on? That's entirely different.

It was on the 6th of December 2003 when I thought I had said goodbye to everyone. It was the end of a life there. And just saying goodbyes were hard and all. I honestly thought that that was the hardest part of life, ending something that meant so much or stuck with so long. The change was wierd. Usually when days would be filled of activity insulting Ivan, playing computer, going to the pool house, kicking a football, seeing gay people chasing each other and joining everyone else for dinner, now involves a quiet repose of being alone.

But not all that would be as hard as facing new change. When something ends, one bad thing can happen. When something begins, everything bad can happen. Really. I hate thinking of the future. Anyway, I thought Dec 6th was the end, but I guess I was wrong. August 28th is the end of a lot of things, and the beginning of a lot of new things. Sucks to say goodbye. Just plain sucks. Damn, though, I must go.

I am the victim of a rude idiot's wrath today. Apparently he can't drive and he is nothing more than an insensitive pig who can't do anything other than curse vulgarly in front of his mother.

Really, I believe that I have the right to own a shotgun and shoot idiots like that. It was his fault for not signalling and having a huge telephone pole jammed up his ass. Then he had the audacity to come down and start shouting vulgarities which clearly showed his physical deficiency. His van number was QSJ8000. His IQ is probably 80. So when he grazed my bumper, he deserves to be shot once. For acting like an asshole deserves another shot to his delicate parts. For spewing vulgarities deserves another shot where the sun don't shine.

I think that life really does suck when I have to put up with really stupid people who think they are smart. There would be no big loss if people like him were shot thrice. Really. I'm really serious about this.

Anyway, c'mon the world owes it to me to at least reduce idiots in this world. Less idiots = more happiness for everyone else. So therefore, in this light, I should have exclusive ownage of a 12 gauge pump action shotgun and the ass of idiots all around.

Watching Arsenal wipe Manchester United all over the pitch in the prelude to the English Premier League 2004/2005 fills me with sadness and reminiscence.

I am not a fan of either club, but this match was one that promised great interest. Manchester United had unceremoniously dumped Arsenal out of the race for the FA Cup and this looked like a chance for them to repeat the feat again, reminding every new Arsenal fan who joined their winning bandwagon, that Arsenal was only human. Unfortunately, Manchester United showed up with half a team and even less spirit to match.

Granted that Arsenal was missing Patrick Viera and Sol Campbell, Manchester United was filled with noobs. Really I have to use that word. It was apalling to see no support on the right flank when Scholes charged recklessly down the middle. And they let slip a goal due to poor defending while setting an offside trap. I feel very old, the moment I saw Giggs sprint with the ball. He was a player I grew up with. Really, seeing him play when he first started with Manchester United. Then suddenly in this match, he had neither the speed nor the vigour nor the creativity to match. He was getting old.

Anyway, I hope this match isn't a sign of things to come. By the way, feeling kinda hungry at the moment, and in a brief moment of enlightenment, I realised that I can't cook. However, I have one great tool at my disposal. When all fails and the world is shrouded in fear and darkness is about to take over, there's always the Internet, source of all answers, important and trivial. So a quick look on the Internet brings up some interesting recipes like this one which completely agrees with my level of culinary expertise.

So yeah. Hungry.

Somehow, just somehow, I am so disappointed. I've been Doom-ing for about an hour, when suddenly I have a horrendous headache and had to retire early for the night.

Really, man. Doom 3 is great and all, the monsters scare the crap out of me, and it is just plain disturbing. But, my computer can only run it at low to medium settings, and I get motion sickness. Sigh, guess I am not meant to play some games at all.

I have just watched Farenheit 9/11. I must admit that it is a good movie/documentary, and Hollywood is hard-pressed to come up with anything half as informative as this. Well actually Hollywood's crap is mostly guns and explosions, and the occasional sex scene.

But one thing I've got to say about this movie, is that these are the stuff that the leaders of America doesn't want you to see. Sure, Michael Moore does blow things out of proportion a bit, the entire show could be biased and only showing the views of a minority, but really, this is a side that people should sit up at take a look at.

The clips really said something, and these were the stuff you never saw on television. While some idiot (Donald Rumsfeld) was expounding on the precision and accuracy of the technology used, an Iraqi woman was crying in front of the camera saying that she has just been through five funerals. Five civilian funerals.

Then there were clips of charred bodies being beaten and dragged through the streets and hung up like butchered meat. Bodies of American soldiers, never aired on the news networks because of fears that people would protest the war.

Come to think of it, yeah, I would think that the road to Iraq was carefully engineered and planned. It seemed like the way to go. Spread fear among the public, retract some of the most basic rights of the American citizens, repeated assertions that Iraq is the enemy and a humongous smokescreen. Then invade, no wait, liberate Iraq, then send in the huge corporations to dig out the profits.

Honestly I find it wierd that Bush has support from the American public because of the Iraq war only. They support the war in Iraq. Really. I wonder why. Because if there ever was a reason NOT to vote for him, it'll be because of the war in Iraq.

Song of the moment, and probably theme song of the soundtrack of the movie, "Days of Jason's life - or lack of it"

Away From The Sun by Three Doors Down.

I think I should reflect awhile. I've been having eccentric dreams of people dying in the most violent ways. Not just stabbing, shooting or death by misadventure, but really death in the most provoked of ways. Almost as in artistic statement, in cold blood. Ironically my dreams all involve death as the most natural of all things. Murder as the core of human nature. Disturbing.

Sometimes I wonder why I have these sort of dreams. A friend told me that it is because I am frustrated and bored with the way things are. Honestly I have not done anything for the past 8 months. I have sat, watched and just observed, but not worked or done anything useful at all. Wasting away. Yeah, I'm wasting away.

What am I to do? I have no skill or talent. I have no love or passion. I have no wants or needs. I just need to get a cup of water right now. Yeah. Back in a while.

Really, I guess this is the bottom of it all, where I have no will to live. Now all I need is a reason to commit suicide.

On the bright side, this is the great thing about apathy. There is no reason to do anything about anything in this entire world. Not even commiting suicide. No reason at all. No effort, no will, no nothing. Oh well. Whatever.

Anyway this is a pretty morbid post. Ignore.

ArGh! I have sinned, I have sinned badly, for I have done what is unforgivable...

I have forsaken my blog! No... I will post something interesting here soon. I hope. Anyway a short anecdote.

In one of those family situations where we all were in the Pajero, suddenly my sisters eyes caught sight of a huge banner outside a hotel. It said, Diamond Exhibition. They were about to open their mouths and comment on it, when my dad suddenly said, "Quiet! Don't say anything!"

And with that, we drove by, with my mom unknowingly passing by a huge potential diamond ring and an unused credit card.