tough

This will be a different kind of entry if you do follow miniminiminimoe because it is neither drawings, poems, or stories. This is the flow of my current thoughts, raw. Raw to the extend that I type as I think, I do not even rationalise/look at it from different angles before typing. Raw is a cute word. I find myself to be in a very childish position whereby I am reluctant to change, I do not want to move out of my comfort zone even though I know I should. Stubborn. When it comes to comedy, I am definitely blessed. In fact, I am incredibly blessed, having actively done comedy only since March 2009, now in November 2009, I have had shows in Malaysia and even given the opportunity to perform in Australia's biggest comedy club. A chance that really do not come by to 'newbies' like me. There is no doubt, no question that all of this can only be achieved with God by your side. However, there is always a balance in things. I am not 'gifted' in a lot of other things. I find myself to have many shortcomings. I find it difficult to learn to accept a lot of things, I find it hard not to excel motivated by people important to me. I find it hard to accept my worth. Nevertheless, I accept all these as me. But I also wonder if I accept them because I dont want to face them, or do I accept them because I have already faced them? I'd like to think that I put a lot of heart and sincerity into my shows. I'd like to think that I'm merely sharing with you a joke that I have just told myself earlier. I want to be real and honest. I dont want to be a stranger. I want you to know, that if I wasn't on stage but sitting next to you, I am just like you. However, I believe I am a really mellow person by nature. I'm an urban hermit, almost a social-misfit, and near social retardation...and ALL these ARE the things that allow me to do comedy as I do today. Because of all these 'assumingly negative' traits, I naturally observe different things and just by chance, things that tickles my fancy, can be translated into humour for others. Therefore, I find myself in a predicament. It feels like at this stage, it is imperative for me to upkeep a facade and 'act my job'. I realise people aren't too comfortable knowing me as a 'comedian' is silent most of the time. I'm sure people are okay and most will 'have an inclination' that 'comedians' can be quite the emo people but not many truly understands and accepts. It is difficult for me to balance the both. On one hand I want to positively share my upcoming shows and that definite should be done a 'happier tone' but once that is done, I am still myself. A lot of things go through my mind, most are not as 'happy sounding', some are rather negative, but I feel pressured into not sharing them because of the views of my profession. I find it hard to be sincere and insincere at the same time. I want people to know. Its hard to be sincere because I cannot share the negatives, yet feel insincere because I am not being honest with who I am and what makes me, me. Just also want to say, you will never find your freedom if you cannot define for yourself the things you generate and produce - thoughts, actions, and intentions. rain or shine. "There is an eternal landscape, a geography of the soul; we search for its outlines all our lives" - Josephine Hart

army turtle

Turtle felt the pain, Bringing a shell and fears, The trail ahead remains unstained, The trail behind dribbled with tears. His claws brushes the dirt, And paddles slowly but firmly, Now his chest starts to hurt, This familiar vibe remains prickly. At the pace he's swimming, He cannot even be sure, If the routes are waiting, Or if he must swim clear. However dark however low, The direction he moves towards, Eventhough he receives a blow, A stroke forward is a step forward. So, He continues, In the blues. Of the sand and sea, A soulful soldier he will be. Until he reaches the light, And swims in the sunbright. +jenhan they swim above us, they fly below us. we are the dormant. "The longest journey a man must take is the eighteen inches from his head to his heart" - Anon "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I - I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." - Robert Frost

balloon misfit

This little stretch of gum, Is different from the others, When she floats she hums, When she asks she cares. A choice not hers, She stood out from the pack, Luck for her is only a rumour, But fondly Fate's got her back. Neither round nor wrong, Neither chance nor was it karma, She’s a balloon born oblong, She's a balloon shaped like a papaya. Papaya was born a performer, So she tries to entertain, But no one stops to chatter, Pity no one understands her pain. She flutters and she flies, And drifts into the unknown, No one tells the truth only lies, With that who wouldn't feel alone? But all that work in the sky, Travelling under the Sun's glow, She happens to meet someone shy, It appears only after the mellow, She says hi and waits for a reply, She waits awhile, And "Hi" said the Rainbow. +jenhan a ballooning glow "To say 'I love you' one must first be able to say the 'I.'" - Ayn Rand

Miss Cactus the cactus miss.

Do cactuses get thirsty, And will they feel the heat, These questions are aplenty, Seeking them is imminent defeat. Miss Cactus you are pretty, But all you see are thorns, For attention you become greedy, From water insecurities are born. Miss Cactus longs for aqua, Yet she worships the flare, You know its really karma, When deception is a regular affair. The tangerine Sun is the light, Miss Cactus' universe seem bright, The Rain descends the sky is broken, And color white becomes an illusion. While Sun and the Rain tango, I often ask but I will never pry, Why do you kiss the seven glows, When once bitten twice shy. +Jenhan the exit before the entry “One of the greatest titles we can have is "old friend". We never appreciate how important old friends are until we are older. The problem is we need to start our old friendships when we are young. We then have to nurture and grow those friendships over our middle age when a busy life and changing geographies can cause us to neglect those friends. Today is the day to invest in those people we hope will call us 'old friend" in the years to come.” - Grant Fairley

in hindsight i now live the past and present simultaneously.

"I did not know how", was never the best to start, today I scratch my brow, looking at grass grow apart. I did not water the plants, I carelessly overlooked Nature's deeds, while you cared for my wants, while you took attention to my needs. "now that I know more", I know knowing now will never restore, this is only fair retribution, as I peek up to adore, and to celebrate your tree's fruition. toujours. +Jenhan sunshine face "Retribution often means that we eventually do to ourselves what we have done unto others." - Eric Hoffer

A heart with a point

His boots sink into grimy earth with each step he takes. The grass is a bitter olive green, trampled by his boots, black and relentless. He looks ahead to see a fort made of wood. Much like a beaver dam, it was built piece by piece, chunk by chunk, all by himself. General Han is a one man army with a big fort. Has been a one man army with a big fort for many years now. Han never needed numbers by his side. His predicament doesn’t demand it, for you see, General Han is at war, with no one but himself. It is extravagantly obscure that General Han builds a fort for protection when the adversary walks in and out as he pleases, just as he himself would. When he sleeps, so does the enemy. When he weeps, so does his enemy. So they said, keep your friends close, your enemies closer. In his fort is a room, in his room a plastic throne. Everyday General Han would take place on it pondering of things foreign to him. He would wonder what it feels like to be a comet. He would secretly wish to be a shooting star. He always believed that when shooting stars fly by, the other stars actually stop to watch. He would also secretly wish to be the indigo in a rainbow. General Han’s boots may be black and relentless but the man wears an oversize jacket. Cynics would translate it as inferiority to himself. They see that General Han always seems to be falling short of something. He seems to not fit in. He seems to lack. He was either too untimely, too timely, too unconvincing, or even too kind. But then again, maybe it’s just an oversized jacket, that’s all. One day, a voice called out from outside the fort, “Han...” It sounded like a whisper, but a loud whisper. Han stood up on his plastic throne from inside his room to peek out the window. He sees no one. “I seek you”, said the voice, this time sounding more female but still gently soft. “Who are you and why?” replied Han. There was silence. This whisper doesn’t say much. Perhaps it did, but it was too soft to be audible. “Are you there? I can’t hear you. Why don’t you send me a mail? So I can read it.” Han yelled out. There was more silence. Han tip-toed. He then caught a glimpse of tree branches shaking, apparent to be from the quick blow of a breeze. What a sight. Tree branch after tree branch followed suit, from the furthest coming closer. A split second later, Han sees a ‘point’. It was an arrow. This arrow flew into his room and hit the back wall. It had a note on it. It was in an envelop, made of hemp, in the shape of a heart. Not the shape of love, but a heart. He grabbed the arrow careful not to damage its feathers. It was a nice arrow. He yanked it and yanked it he couldn’t. He exerted more force and eventually it detached from the wall. For a while, there was a tiny rumbling in the wall. The heart in hand, he walked back to his plastic throne, sat down, and held the heart in both hands. Just as he was about to open the heart to understand its content, a loud tumbling sound thundered from behind. The back wall was crumbling down. Chunks after chunk fall apart, one block made its way to a nearby pot. General Han’s cooking pot. Just like the roar of applause, an ovation, the chunks fell on and on, block after block sounding like claps. It was as though, the fort was cheering its own demise. The sides starts falling, followed by the front end of the fort while the back starts catching fire from his cooking pot. General Han remains seated on his throne celebrated by a thunderous applause of wood, a heart in his hand, unopened still. He starts weeping. By this time, he was already surrounded by an eventual ring of fire. All it took was a pointy stick with beautiful feathers, and a heart attached. General Han’s fort now settles on the grimy earth with the bitter olive colored greens. He cries in defeat. He had lost to the enemy. cloudy eyes "People are unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered. Love them anyway. If you do good, people may accuse you of selfish motives. Do good anyway. If you are successful, you may win false friends and true enemies. Succeed anyway. The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway. Honesty and transparency make you vulnerable. Be honest and transparent anyway. What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight. Build anyway. People who really want help may attack you if you help them. Help them anyway. Give the world the best you have and you may get hurt. Give the world your best anyway." - Mother Teresa

One of those situations.

No drawings to share but a tale of a bus stop, an ice-cream man, and a liar. I live in a corner house and across the road are a park and a bus stop. 15 years ago, it would be the busiest bus stop of the area and being the busiest, it was inevitably the noisiest and dirtiest. Soon buses were rerouted but the bus stop remained. Silent, now that marbled bench under brick roofs now regularly housed for 3 old men who have made it their gossip tavern and on a daily basis meet there to talk and exchange views. One of them would always come with a 'tongkat' in hand, the other seems to wear nothing but a 'sarong' everyday, and the third man, well he seems pretty inconspicuous, except his socks were very often pulled up too high. Today, at about 6pm it was empty. An odd sight. Even odder was that on my return from the city, I had experienced 'one of those situations'. 'One of those situations' in this context means one of those situation whereby you always think you were prepared to encounter or chance upon it and to a certain extent 'know you would' but when it really does happen, it catches you off guard and leaves you with a choking aftertaste. That is 'one of those situations'. As I turn into my lane, the ice-cream man, a 30-ish man, skinny as a twig, was dutifully making his rounds. He was pushing an equivalently slim black bicycle which carried a huge ice box at the back. He rang his bell every 4 steps or so. He steered it aside for me to pass and I smiled. After I parked my car, I walked to the bus stop across my house which was quaintly empty today. I sat down, reflecting upon 'one of those situations' which I had just encountered. Unmindful of how many minutes had passed, I was awoken by the chimes of the ice-cream man's bell that was now loudening. He had reached the other end of the road from when I had smiled at him and he was now near the bus stop. Me, elbow to knee, palm to jaw, raised my head and tipped my chin a little, again I smiled at this 30-ish skinny twig of a man. He returned the smile and raised me wave. Somehow he stopped, both movement and his consistent bell ringing. He stared at me a little while. I raised my eyebrows to signal "What's up ice cream man?" Though I believe it was unconvincing considering how little expression I show on a daily basis while thinking I give good facial cues. He opened the top of his ice box, dug through his icy chest, making sounds that were akin to dry autumn leaves rustling on the tarmac. He pulled out an orange ice cream bar. The one I used to love as a kid. The one that was so orange by the time you're done, not only will your lips be orange, even half the stick turned orange. That one. He extended his arm and handed the orange bar to me, its packaging still full of broken bits of ice. He side-nodded his head, people here, we understand this gesture as "it's yours, yes, no, and even I don't know." Why would an ice cream man give you an ice cream, your favourite ice cream, just because you had a face like stone supported by your palms against your jaw line, your elbow resting uncomfortably on your knee? He wouldn't, because everything I typed after "he steered it aside for me to pass and I smiled," was a lie. It never happened. I parked my car, glanced at the empty bus stop. For awhile I stood motionless looking at the empty marble seats, wondering if this 'tale' I had generated in that short period of time between first seeing the ice cream man and parking in my house, would actually happen or could actually happen. One 'one of those situations' in a day would suffice for me. Afraid to possibly experience another 'one of those situations' whereby if I had walked to the bus stop and sat, I could received an orange ice cream bar, I turned around and walked in. Hearing the bell louder, I peeked over my shoulder and saw the ice cream man walk past my front gate and vanished from sight in a mere 3 seconds. To end this story, here is a quote in which I did not heed: "Everything comes too late for those who only wait." - Elbert Hubbard Grew longer. I miss you, IMG_0449.

Absence

Hey all, no drawings has appeared for awhile now simply because my mouse finally became so vexed that I just cant rely on it for drawing anything anymore. Then again, I know I could have gone out to get a new one but I'm lazy. So drawings will resume when I get a new mouse. I have a few 'ideas' for new drawings and I just hope I dont forget them. Anyways, since I have no drawings to share, I'll share a story instead. Just two days ago, I watched Zoolander. Zoolander was banned in Malaysia because the plot revolves around people from the fashion industry plotting to kill the Prime Minister of Malaysia and knowing how sensitive we are....yeah. Anyways Ben Stiller plays a male model who is, as the tagline says, 3% body fat, 1% brain activity. There is this drink that particularly made him happy and that is 'Orange Mocha Frappucino' from Starbucks. After reading the Trivia section from IMDb, apparently 'Orange Mocha Frappucino' is a drink that is served in Starbucks but it is not on the menu. Interesting, I thought. Yesterday I was so happen at Starbucks and I thought to myself, lets try this, and I asked:- Girl: Hi, welcome to Sabux. Jenhan: Yeah hi, I was wondering if you actually have an orange mocha frappucino? All the sudden, the other guy at the back who was preparing drinks just stopped the machine, froze for a second and did, in a slow-motion, 180 degrees turn and faced me. He was bespectacled, wearing a Starbucks cap, an apron, had a typical Chinese "short hair ahh" cut. Guy: Sir.....Mocha Valencia was a promotional drink. Jenhan: Uhhh, okay? Guy:.....four years ago. There was a girl who was in front of me in the queue who had already made her way to the delivery section of the counter. She also suddenly turn towards me and gave me a weird stare. Why? Am I suppose to know this? The cashier girl, the informative guy, and the waiting-for-drink girl all made it seem as though I had just emerged from under a rock after 4 years. Like I was lost in time. Anyways, here was the conversation in my head:- Jenhan's mind: Okay. Mocha Valencia. Am I supposed to be shock as well because 'orange mocha frappucino' had a name? Jenhan's other mind: No wait. I think I am more shocked as to how this guy knows what its called and when was it out. Dude.......have you been here 4 years?! Long story, not so short... I left with a Dark Berry Mocha Frappucino and it was yummy. So anyone who is nice enough to buy me one, I will jizz in my pants. Okay, I have no drawing but I have this to share. My Emo Campaign poster in styles of Obama's Hope poster. I used a laptop's touch pad for this. I really have no mouse right now. Stop doubting me!