Memory Lane. 1/4

Greetings.

Long sigh of relief. Wanna know why? It’s cuz of the fact that I’ve been waiting forever for this moment. Nothing so special about it, it’s just that, what I resolute to do, is gonna take a while, and a whole lot of patience, which I dangerously lack. Right, let me spill the beans. Thing is, I’ve always wanted to write about my early years at BISES, the first memories that still remain etched on my mind, the first friends I’ve made, first rules I’ve broken, all that "first" crap. I know, saying “first rules I’ve broken” makes me sound downright outrageous, but trust me, it was a long way till I’ve gone that way. I don’t know if you’re gonna believe this, but this very person, somehow managed to turn two precious years of his life during which he turned into a complete nerd. I know, unbelievable. Anyways, this note is pretty big, with this being just first part of a total of four, so don’t be a bitch about it. And it is for your very convenience, that I’ve decided to break it up into like, 4 parts, and manage to fit my whole 12 years of schooling in it.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the beginning to a story that is dragged forward to 12 whole years. And, well there’s nothing much I can put up for an intro, so I’ll just be on with it.

Prologue:

One fine morning, around 12 years ago, I walked in into a building they call BISES, accompanied by my parents. The very first that I saw, was this big ass field, which at that time, was the same size as Santiago Bernabeu to me. Little did I know, that this is where I was destined to be locked in, sketching the canvas of the 12 most beautiful years of my life. As I write, my finals of my 12th year are on the go- which puts things in a way, that, right after I'm done with my exams, I graduate.

Year 1: I don’t remember much of this one, since it was my first year. But anyhow, I’ll try racking out whatever I have. For starters, this year was plain boring. Thing is, being a bitch ran in my blood at all times, but if you’re stuck with a bunch of dudes you barely know, then it’s gonna be pretty hard trying to get on with your plans. Plus, being the only black dude in the class was not as easy as I thought it’d be, so I faced some initial racism. As time went by- it dragged the racism along with it, so it faded off. I guess the people around started being nice to me, or maybe they’ve matured. Or, they might’ve learned that black people can kill. Personally, I like to think that it’s the third cause. To add up to all these- I hated the girls that were in our class. Like, trust me man, they were so full of shit, I wished to God that he gave me a .50 BMG. Soon as He would do that, I would start shooting these motherfuckers in their faces.

I feel you, Bro.

Year 2: The day I enrolled into year 2, I walked into a room full of kids I've never laid my eyes on. I was sort of late for class, so I received some random eye-balling. And then, I saw this one guy- Tariq. We've practically known each other since childbirth, but we weren't really friends since it was just a year after we've learnt to lead life without the help of diapers. Anyways, Tariq had an empty seat beside him, and even before you knew it, Marzouk had found his spot. So, I sat my ass down, and start talking to him. I discover that he's a pervert, which was excellent news to me. It told me that I wasn't gonna have a lot of problems in fitting in. And believe, we would talk so much, even the bitches would get jealous, since there's isn't anyone who could talk more than them bitches. Today, it's probably habits and hobbies that have put Tariq and me on different walks of life, but I solemnly swear, that I will always remember this guy as the first "fun" person I met.

 It's always been like this- with Tariq.

And then, there was this lanky white dude whom I noticed was noticing me. They called him Sadman. Man, who would have known, that this guy, would become an amazing friend of mine in the years to come? But anyways, this Sadman dude comes up to me after about a half hour, tells me I'm the real deal, and that I'm the guy he's looking for. Man, I should've known- this motherfucker knew exactly the right buttons to push. 

Soon as he said all that, he put his hand in front of me in order to shake it- the same way Draco Malfoy put his hand forward in Harry Potter and ThePS, for Harry to shake it. Though Harry didn't shake Malfoy's hand, I shook Sadman's.

And THAT, is how I ended up being friends with Sadman, and Tariq.

Year 3: One of the best childhood years, ever. Like, evar! Sadman, Tariq, and I have become awesome friends. Speaking from a teacher's perspective, we were the bad and naughty elements of the class. The way I see it, we weren't "bad", as they've rendered us to be. But, "naughty"? Err, yeah. Can't help you there. The Creator must've poured hormones in excessively or something. It's cuz I was introduced to porn, and chicks, and all that shit by my friends, and I've started to pick up new swear words left and right. One of the best things to happen in year 3, was that, we got a super-friendly, drop dead gorgeous homeroom. She was the yummiest material in all BISES. If you beg to differ, you can either agree with me, or be wrong yourself. Furthermore, everyone was trying their best to get a piece of it. And get this- she would wear translucent skirts to class, and had a tattoo (of my name) on her thigh or someplace. And duhh, had umm awesome boobs. But sadly, the only place where I get to touch breasts is a KFC bucket. Now that I'm pretty grown up- I wonder if that teacher had a trans-stamp on her. Man, shit was so much easier back then. You didn't have to worry about grades, chicks, friends, wet dreams. -_- But there was a catch to all of this, even though there wasn't much to worry about, at an age like that, I was bound to listen to everything my parents would say.  That was until I turn 18. To give you a clear explanation of what I felt like at that time, I'll hit you guys up with a pic.

A picture is worth a million words. Definitely.

Later that year, we learn that Sadman's bailing out on us- more like moving out of town. And that too, for good. Tariq and I didn't cry our hearts out, slit our wrists, write songs about death, or anything like that, but, we were just in a lower state of happiness. Come on, we were third graders. Hell, we didn't even bid Sadman farewell. But from I could tell, it wouldn't be the same without him. I don't care if we were just third graders, it just wouldn't have been the same, without one of us moving out.

Man, I tell you, when I was in 3rd grade, I've met the weirdest people in my life. These people were so fucking weird- they made algebra seem normal. To be honest, I just remember three of these weird ass kids. And get this- they were ALL girls. To start off, I choose this girl called uhh, excuse me on this one, but I'll have to go forward without mentioning this girl's name. This is due to fact, that I'm gonna tell you people about this lady is something that she might take offence to.

Moving on. So, this girl, when she was with us in the third grade (I'm still not sure if this was in the second or third grade. -_-), kicked a door, and well, it fell flat to the ground. Like, boom! From that day onwards, Sadman and I chose a very suitable nickname for her- The Undertaker. Who's got enough muscle power to do something like that, at this age, man? Now that I come to think of it, it's steroids, man. I tell you.

Cuz, if it wasn't for drugs, I don't think there was any scientific explanation for such immense muscle power. It's okay, though. She was always weird. This girl, as it is later seen, becomes a sex bomb in her tenth/eleventh year, and then in the twelfth year, somehow manages to look like a potato. I don't how she did it, but I'm telling you man, that's what it turned out to be like.

Right, I think I'm done here with the first one. Moving onto this Asian chick, called Asma.

Okay, so this Asma, as they called her, was Chinese. Or Japanese/Korean/Philipino. It's all the same, man. No joke. I wonder how she would read stuff with those small squinty eyes. One of the habits this girl had, was that she would always suck on a lollipop. Practice makes you perfect- and she was doing it the right way. Anyhow, this Asian girl was pretty cute. And trust on this one, but I've always known that she would grow up to one helluva goddess. Plus, I sincerely hope with all my heart that she's still kept up with that lollipop habit of her's. Would be of great use now, honestly. She was nice and all, friendly, fun to talk to, but there's this one thing which would always put me off in being friends with her. Catch is, although she was Chinese, or Japanese, or idkwut, what she'd bring as her lunch was, well, uhh, rice and lentil. Not kidding, Bro. I'm serious. That's exactly what her lunch would be on a daily-fucking-basis. I was expecting her to get, like, I don't know man, noodles or something. Now that I think of it, I never saw chopsticks on her, either. Not that chopsticks could be used to eat rice and lentils, bit I'm just sayyin'.

Other than that, she wasn't all that bad. I hope she's doing well, as I write. 

Alright, so I'm finally starting to pull on the closing threads. Just this last one to go, and I'm done. It's this girl- Nafisa. She, was one heck of an attention whore. She would get down to the limits of crying, just to pull people towards her. And you know, no matter how bad of a person you are, or how hard that rock is where you heart is supposed to be, but when you see a girl crying, you will melt like butter on hot toast. Basically put, you'll easily fall for it. I mean, come on, it looks freaking adorable. But let me tell you, this Nafisa woman- she was an exception.  She wouldn't look a tad bit adorable, which is why she would fail to receive any attention- atleast from me. The picture below portrays me doing what exactly I would every time she'd cry:

True Story.

I mean, she did receive attention, but not from me, and that's the only one which actually mattered. (H) However, I admit though, I did give her a bit of it, when she's been begging for it with her tearstained face. Poor bloke.


Oh and one thing you should know, is that all this, was around the time when the 9/11 attacks had taken place, and even though a year had passed since the disaster, people still thought of flights as suicide, and air travel was still scary as fuck. Okay, so anyhow, when this girl got everybody's attention, she would start praying to God, and everybody would join in. Remember Asma, the Asian chick I told you about? Believe me, man, she would keep sucking her lollipop, and join the prayer. And she, was the main reason of why I kept losing concentration half the time. Whaever, when the prayer would start, most of us often got strartled. This was due to the fact, that us, normal people, if we wanted to pray to God for giving our parents a better life- we would pray "Oh Lord, bless our parents with healthy, beautiful lives. Amen."

But no, Nafisa wasn't on that hype. What she would pray to God, is: "Oh God, don't kill my parents in a plane crash." No, I'm fucking serious. That's what she would pray. I'm guessing that the 9/11 attack must've freaked her out pretty bad. Plus, look at how she does things- starts off with attention whoring, ends up at praying. I know, weird.

Since I was always a nice guy, I decided to get her a cake on her birthday. I mean, I didn't know what her birthday was, but I asked one of her friends, Warda (who also was weird material.), and she told me. I also got a pretty cool design for the cake. And believe me, I thought it up all. Here's a pic of what it looked like:

Am I not just awesome?

Yeah, I think I'm done racking out whatever I have. Trust me, there were freaks everywhere, and I, along with my one other friend, was in the middle of all of it.

Such was my life till the third grade.

Okay, so I'll pause for now, cuz I bet I've bored the fuck out of your cranium. If you've liked this, there's good news. Part 2 will be coming out pretty soon, watch out for it, okay?

Peace.

Random Banter.

Hey. Heyy. Heyyyyy. Hey. Heyy. Hey- No, I'm not PMS-ing, cuz I'm not gay. It's just that I lost track of the number of 'y's used to write "hey" when greeting somebody. And the picture below, is the exact reason of why something so absurd like this happened.

Awesomeness Level: SpongeBob. <3

Anyways, hi! I know, I know, it's been like, say around- idk man, but it's been a while since I've last blogged. Guilty as charged, Bro. You see, I've got Edexcel exams going on at the moment. And this motherfuckin' son of a bitch, Edexcel, is causing millions of teenagers like me, around the world to despair, and give up on life. But as you can see, I'm back. Man, I don't know why I'm pretending like there are tonnes of people out there who read my blog. Maybe, it's just the way I'd want it to be- I mean, if I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it big. And my closest shot at going big, is when this Paki chick, who's a fellow blogger, told me that my blog's pretty good stuff. But anyhow, I'm telling you man, and mark my words, there shall dawn a day, when Barack Obama shall visit my blog on a regular basis, for his daily source of recreation, and even the Bavarian Illuminati, for their daily source of, well, enlightenment? Err, sorry, I think I got a bit too carried away. Happens to me all the time, no biggie.

But, if I come to think of it for real, I wouldn't really care about the popularity of my blog. If it's known around- all the better, and, if it's not, well, it's nothing to commit suicide about. But nonetheless, I will keep updating my blog with all the shit that happens in my daily life. And if I were to speak up my mind, most of these thoughts are thought up by me, when I go to school, and come back via bus. Earphones stuck in, my mind won't just stop whizzing. More like I got used to it.

No arguments there.

Okay, so I'm like really sleepy, and would really be really thankful if you'd grab me some caffeine. Although, I highly doubt the possibility of that happening, since right now, you're at your PC, or on your smartphone, reading my junk, and wondering how boring my life is atm to be writing such stuff. Well, let me tell you- the past two days, were pretty somber. I wrote an exam two days ago, and ever since then, I've deciding which paper to study for, next, without any success. Cuz, you see, thre are a lot of issues which completely annihilate my interest in studies- the little amount I have of it. Plus, there isn't any possible route to ditch exams. Had there been one, believe me, I would've definitely been the first one to go that way. It's a lot of pressure, man. Studying, the need to do well, and oh well, now I can see all the university issues slowly creeping in from around the corner.

I'm starved of good food, and cocaine. The only good thing that has happened today is that I got a text from this girl I reaaaaaally like, when I least expected it. Yeah, that's about it.

Besides that, everything I heard, saw, or did today, was straight up bullshit. Y'know, this other day, I actually got so bored, I took out my Playstation 2, which had like, say about, one inch of dust on it. Nevertheless, I started playing FIFA 11. After defeating Barca 3-0 (Madrid fan, here), on Pro Level, let's just say, my mood lifted. This is what my daily life is like, these days. Productivity Level=Nil.

WORD.

I didn't know what to do as I was writing this post, so I decided to check out some information about where I might go to study, and what my subject might be. Being honest with you guys, I don't if I'm ready to go to some faraway place at this stage in life. Plus, I'm kinda young. Like, I'm gonna miss out on family, friends and the amazing food of KSA. So, I made up a list of places where I'd like to go right after I'm done with A2. And, I'm not gonna lie, but to any people out there being all enthusiastic about leaving this place asap, my list is gonna look like shit. Like all this wasn't enough for the timebeing- I got into a fight with my mom concerning the degree I'll pursue at university- She wants me to do meds, I say otherwise.

Hey, hold up- I'll get some Doritos, and a can of Code Red, cuz like I said, I'm starving. I'll hook you guys up with a song which I got hooked to recently. It's Punjabi RnB, don't underestimate, though! It's pretty good stuff, I tell you.

Brown Rang- Honey Singh <3

Right, back. Man, I'm just waiting for the day I turn famous, and all the junk I've quilled my "masterpieces" on, is gonna start rolling in for billions.

You see, I've always wanted to be a writer. The only reason which stops me to pursue my dream to be one, is the fact that I'm Asian. And let me tell you- Asian society is like worst shit there can possibly be. Thing is, all adults in this Asian society of ours cannot be considered to be successful, unless they have become a doctor, ad engineer, or a lawyer. So if I do grow up to be a writer, in the eyes of my society, I'm no better than a maid. I was told that everyone should always follow their dreams, do what they're best at. But, sad story, the Asians killed it for me.

Since I've figured out that I'm not gonna too far with this writer hype, I opened up this blog this year. So that I could blog for fun, or when I would need to scream something out loud.

Simply put, my blog is my voice.

Anyways, man. I gotta run. I need some sleep, and then maybe study a bit. Physics 4 is a pain in the ass. It's not like, I'm gonna study on full throttle, but I'll still be at the table, right? I waste too much time on random shit, and daydreaming.

Story of my life.

And, make sure you let me know if you've liked the song I gave you guys.

Later, then! Peace.

Blabberings of that tiny voice inside me.

On the onset of this writing, I shall recall that I still remain unaware of the reasons that may have lured me into writing such a piece. It has seen its birth when everything else seemed exceedingly surpassed its extremities of boredom, or when you’ve run out of things to preoccupy yourself/bitch about. It is when you don’t find a soulful soul online on your list, and sleep doesn’t drag your eyelids down, or even when David Guetta can’t make you nod to his music, although I think that it is highly impossible.

At the moment, that is what best describes me.

Anyway, point is, this is when I tend to write stuff, concerning random things and give the people around me some thought. And THAT, is what I gravely suspect in having to do something in me writing shit like this.

Throughout this piece, you may often find yourself in the infinite mazes of religion, and would make you speculate that I could be this dude with an increased endeavor for religion and philosophy. But I’ll just be honest, fact is, I’m just your average guy who doesn’t like to think much save certain circumstances. Truth be told, duly praying 4 prayers out of the daily 5, these are my consistent shots at religion, which puts things in a height that I’m probably considered as one far off from religion. And like I’ve said it before, I don’t think much, leaving behind the times when I’ve drowned in my pointless ecstasies, plus I blabber a freaking lot, so yeah.

But anyways, on with it.

Homo Sapiens. Or as anyone under the Islamic belief would have it, the living being with the greatest supremacy in all creation.

Today, if ever our typical guy ignited to ponder over our qualities, he is to be appalled in a sure fire way. Our creation has a tinge of excellence about it, and it is that factor that has counted for in gaining us a title meant to last for the rest of eternity.

As I broke into adolescence, I can still remember my religious mentor telling me that the Devil has the higher power, which leaves us humans at a woeful disadvantage. “This whack job has got to be some kinda serial killer”, is what popped into my mind that instant. Today, after half a decade late, I have become compulsive in giving it a thought. After a bit of contemporary thinking, I realize the reason that is to blamed for the greater part of the tragedies that overtook us human: Sin.

The world has seen countless of her residents being sold to grievous acts, and at disastrous extents, to the deadly sins. We have been made literate to reach the pinnacle of success and glory, which in turn made us ignore our roots an pay no heed to the One who has shaped you. Not much of a mystery in it.

You see, there is a fine line between knowledge and mistake. This is where sanity is bought into the picture. To my mind, sin is a product of a collaboration of knowledge and plain ignorance. It is no unavoidable pitfall.

What value does sanity and good morale hold in a world that can no longer be pronounced sane? The day the last human with the minutest speck of sanity is wiped off the face of the Earth, that day onwards, the world will set off on a journey transforming herself to an absolute pandemonium of a sort that leaves her beyond repair and rectification.

You know, the way I see it, God has not failed in feeding man with intellect, an element he has always longed for. It is with this intellect that he has managed to turn this place into something with the potential of a vicious warzone. Given the fact that many men result in a pool of thoughts and ideas, the Earth, can be at times more ruthless than the battlefield where the Spartans made their last stand. The gift of intellect from high above has enabled man to do wonders. He has build structures that exhibit an artistic touch of perfection, and also made vehicles that can speed up from 0 to Holy Crap! In 4.5 seconds. Result of using the gift in nothing, but in a way that was bound to produce fruitful outcomes.

God has many a time given some of us humans, intellect that is a degree or two more than the average creation. But from my perspective, in doing so, God has put us at a disadvantage. You may unravel and understand things a bit quicker and better, but the better you understand them, the more complicated they become, and eventually making him unhappier despite his current despairs. More importantly, we are blindfold on this carriage ride they call life, for our minds and hearts are not ever enlightened of what tomorrow shall bring. So, point is, increased intellect meant to be beneficial to us, may backfire and deteriorate humans.

"We spent half our lives educating ourselves only to destroy the remaining half of it."                            

                                                                               -Albert Einstein

As for when the Hour shall finally dawn, man will be called for questioning on the subject of his deeds and about the pathways in which, good or bad, his intellect has seen its expenditure. Soon after, he will be bought into complete ownership of his memoirs from the perspective of a Higher Power. It is this piece that he has been summoned to beautify in the course of his life on Earth, but falling prey to the insanities of life, fails in doing so. So, as long along with what my man, Michelangelo said,

Accounts of accomplices and partners will then be bought to the boil, and by doing so, into the story. We humans will then be disabled from blaming insanity that has persisted on Earth since the beginning of time. The reason behind the ban, is merely the fact that worldly insanity, being an element in favor of the force that is of no good, and is but, man’s own creation. It would have not found its way into Earth through rather subtle and unnatural forms, but instead, has made its entrance in a form not absurd to us. If one is to look at the bigger picture, it can evidently be deduced that, we are solely to be responsible for all our actions and emotions. Relations may play a part, but hey, living the life on Earth, you don’t get to choose your relations.

So yeah, you’ve come to know that the craftsmen who have transformed the Earth into a pace of mass devastation is man, himself.

The way I’ve got it, God has placed His greatest creation right within his sight, but has not drilled electrodes into his cranium. Point is, even though He sees into our deepest foundations, He holds no interest in controlling our actions. And as a result, man, through the decades have bought news of toil, torture, tears, and unbearable agony. Had this place been amidst His direct control, this place would've been, well, a lot more different than the way you know it. So spread the goodness, inspire, and be inspired.

We mock, we marvel. We're humans. We all are. Hi.

That everlasting Fernando Torres vibe.

Soccer at BISES. While some crave it, others dread it. You fall into either of these. Cuz when it’s soccer we’re talking about, there aren’t any shades of grey.

Football, has for a long time, and is still venerated by the people, player or not. Reason? A game is a surefire method of putting some life into the crowd, providing overwhelming entertainment. But you see, the thing is, every issue has its woeful aspects. There are fights, renegades, and hell; a game can even lead to a vendetta at times. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating things a bit.

You know, sometimes, when I’m amidst the crowd, it occurs to me that our schools can come up with some people who can truly be rendered at skilful at the art. But then again, it’s just a high school, we hardly have tourneys. Besides, these are things of just my mere speculation, cuz out here; none can tell what will happen for real. Here, crowd=madmen on crack. Scientifically speaking: ManUtd Fans + 2.5pint root beer each= BISES Audience.

Nuff said.

The noise resulting from a game is one that will match Anfield, or say Stamford Bridge, for instance. This might make one wonder about moments where someone misses a shot and others swear that they could’ve scored that. Well, truth is, a lot of them happen, yeah, and oh, the jeering, mocking, and bitchery that follows! What’s more important, one may develop the affinity to be kicked out of a team. Cruel. Cruel is that crowd.

Ever since the ManUtd v Chelsea match at Old Trafford, uh na wait, it’s even better when one recalls it as Tansif’s birthday, or whatever, point is- the day the world has seen Fernando Torres’s inability to drill the ball into an empty goalpost. Yes, I’m about to spit the same shit you have in mind. I mean, come on, if you see things properly, you shall gather that science may offer complex explanations that may require human intellect higher than the average value, but this? Man, a unicorn on Viagra, sipping red grape wine ca shoot better. But anyway, the thing is, when one misses a shot, all you can hear is “Torres!!” I’ve heard that like once so far. Dammit, shouldn’t have let it out. But oh well, it all started with the really unbelievable misses, but then slowly as they may, the vicious crowd upped the ante by jeering and not taking into account the two buff defenders guarding the post. Law goes- you miss a shot, they call you Torres. Simple as that. Unless you’re Fernando Torres himself.

It can clearly be seen that the “Torres” vibe is going to last forever, become a greater nuisance. Because, believe me, I won’t run short of things that might be vexatious to someone playing a game.  Reason behind it is, once you’ve learned passing around, and eventually planting the ball in the right place, like it or not, you were long drowned into deep solitude. But on the brighter side, being solitary is really meritous and will pay off as solitary itself, is the one who cooks various transcendent moments. But I ask you to remain cautious, for reminiscing these moments may prove to be virulent to your abilities. One should only do that when he’s broken his leg or cracked his ankle- but beware, do not await it. Evil things can happen even before you can see them round the corner. In the event of a gifted player facing any of these, all shall fear a loss to the underdogs. To my mind, these are the issues that have let the common vibe seen in many people today, come to the top. If you remain unaware of it, here it goes- “Like it or not, the underdogs will come out on top.”

True to a certain extent, honestly speaking. You should believe as it is coming from one who has encountered such a situation.

Man, I feel like I really need to get down and play some. Because seeing the kids play isn’t fun, doesn’t put you in through the whole energy. But here I am, putting words in front of me, virtually, to lengthen this shit. And you gotta agree, I’m pretty novice at this. Cuz, it seems that I’m not really good at maneuvering my thoughts, which leaves us at rather a naïve metaphor.

But anyhow, squaring things up, I’m gonna let up now. The freshmen year kids are playing the sophomores, and I’m looking for… Oh look, the game has kicked off. My buddy grabs me a huge bucket of popcorn, and I gobble a handful. And just when I thought, that the sophomore forward had scored to seal a victory, I heard the crowd cry out “Torres!”

And even before you knew it, the jeering had gone on once again! 

The Fuck Is This Shit?

A 75-Day Guilt Trip

 Disclaimer: This piece was written in the summer vacation, but uploaded during winter time. Cuz Barack Obama wouldn't let me make a Blogger account back then. Not at least during summer.

What’s good, folks? I come up with my 3^rd piece, written on, err, on the back of a notepad.You see, basically, I write on anything which will accept ink from a pen or a quill, like sandpaper, banknotes, and even lottery coupons. Technically, it’s the 43^rdpiece I’ve penned so far, counting by hand from the shoebox I like to keep my shit in.

Okay, so it’s summer vacation! Yay?! When the vacation hadn’t started yet, everything so cramped. You didn’t actually have the time to nail your lady. And naturally so, none of us could wait for summer vacation to rush in. But guys, I’ll give you God’s honest truth. For me, summer vacations have always been 2 and a half months of a trip packed with, not fun and games, but guilt and remorse. And like I said before, summer vacations are never the way I ever thought them to be. Matter fact, you actually get to see your mates less often, since everybody’s indoors trying to win the title of some sort of sleeping competition. You had the chance to meet up and smoke weed on normal schooldays. Geezur, I miss them. And let me tell you man, every summer, I repeat, every fucking summer, there has to be something which is bound to crush all your fun planned for the vacation, well, at least that’s the way it is for me. You see, last year, our family planned to fly back home, which would’ve been fun since I’ve got 2.5tonnes of friends there. But the thing is, at the last minute, mom got fell ill, diagnosed with something something, and was rushed to the hospital. Which all brings an end to all plans and shatters my ideas of having fun when we got there. FML. But hold up, I haven’t got the sweetest part, yet. Catch is, something shattered our plans to fly to BD this year- yet again. Keep thinking, I’ll be back with a beer.

Sluuuuurp, back! Time to know what happened this year. Well, last August, on Eid, my chick best friend decided to meet up. I know, “meet up” doesn’t sound all fancy for a speciazl occasion or festival, but since we both reside here in Riyadh, K.SA., the whole boy-girl tiring issues are a bit, not a bit, very difficult with innumerous cops on the lookout. Word goes, you’re spotted with your lady, and you’re fucked for life. I ain’t kidding, this shit happens for real all the fucking time. Anyways, back to the story. So, on my way to meet her, I dropped my National ID, which I realized after I’ve been hanging out for like 15 minutes. I tried looking for it, but considering all the modes of transportation here in Riyadh, the probability narrows it down 55,000 cabs. And that digit right there, made me give up on my search. So, I applied for a new National ID.

Conclusion is, I haven’t received my new ID, yet. And so, I’m rendered sort of “illegal”. Whenever I inquire about the progress, they keep telling me that it’s in process. What I’ve gathered so far about their meaning of the word “process”, is that they’ll start off by taking in all of your basic details and tell you that they’d be done in “less than two weeks.” But what they really mean is that, since you’re no citizen or a Saudi, you ain’t getting Jack Squat till 6 whole months. And by Squat, they mean Diddly Squat. And all of this puts things in a way that I might have to stay undercover for the time being. The “undercover” bit somehow sounds cool to my 14-year old sibling.

Okay, at the moment, I feel like letting it all up. I partially blame it on the excessive tequila shots from last night. But it’s all good now, since I’m listrning to “Apologize” by OneRepublic and Timbaland. One of my all time favourites. And believe it or not, this morning, I woke up only cuz Dad dragged my head out of the keyboard, since that is where my head lay resting for the entire night, and that too without my conscious knowledge. You see, the bad part is that I haven’t hit the bed, where all the “magic” goes down, yet, is cuz I’ve got this invitation to a stupid ass party. Even worse, they’ve got swimming at the party, which means that, the dudes I’ll even know there will be half-naked, trying and failing their backflips and shit. Truth be told, I’m already high on the rush of adrenaline since I can feel the fear of swimming kicking at my scrotum. Let’s hate on them, swimmers.

But at the end of the day, when it all goes down, you may be able to swim on water, or as Basshunter has it, walk on water, but my man Chuck Norris, he can swim on land.

True fucking story, and I'm not kidding.

See you guys later, yo. Marzoukeh, out.

Cuz that's just how we roll.

Readers, I have no idea why I did this, even though I have 7 Edexcel exams coming up this week. Maybe, this is just how I study.


Hey there! I assume that you’re here with the mere intention to be like me or umm, somewhat close to me. Cuz, becoming someone like me is considered impossible. Even mathematically. I’d like to see the math, but man, numbers don’t lie, so yeah. Excuse me for not being nice, but I’m spitting out facts here, but if you’re one of those light-minded people, I’m sorry to point out the fact that you’re an idiot.


Fact is, we’re both human. Not like I’m superhuman or something but you the only difference between us? I’m awesome and you’re not. And that can create a hell lot of differences. I-KNOW-RIGHT!


So, basically, my blog goes by the name of “Diary of a Troubled Teenager” That’s the URL as well for all those tech-geeks out there. Hold on a sec, does that name sound too dramatic? I'll leave that to you. Moving further, they say they’d love to know about me. I dont consider myself lucky for that. It just keeps me on my tight schedule. Sheesh, all the media fuss. Too much paparazzi these days. Trust me man, too much of it can grow to be a problem. For starters, these media people will have cams sticking around day and night within 8 miles of the bungalow you reside in. Well, being specific, the bungalow I reside in. Cuz I really don’t know where you live. Aaaanyhow, I don’t think there’s much to know to know about me except the obvious fact that I’m awesome. To a crazy extent. If this seems suspicious to any cunning fox reading this piece of article, ask him/her/it to Google me. You actually do that, no kidding here.  Type in my name in the search box and you got it. I’ll all over the world.


Oh have I told you about my entourage? They’re equally as awesome. Technically, the only reason they CAN be considered awesome is only due to the reason is cuz they’re MY entourage. Shit, I haven’t even got to try to shine. Kay, idk why but let me just give you a basic idea of what my entourage is like. Ah, who am I kidding? They’re just friends.


 Dammit. These stuff keep rolling in. Seriously, I don’t know from where. Okay, maybe cuz we’re the S.H.I.T. Yea, that’s the source with the highest probability.


Well, to be honest, I think one of the reasons that make us awesome is the fact that we all are moderate perverts. . Well, “we”, in this context, refers to just the few of us guys, no not even all the people tagged here.
And get this guys- Girls love perverts. No, I’mnot mistaken. Well, not all girls love perverts and not all perverts are loved. And if the both sexes think alike. As the saying goes- “Great minds think alike”. That’s why we call it moderate. Not the extent where is goes like “I’ll shove a toothpick up your ass, take it out and that’ll be my lollipop for the day!” Eww!
Okay, back to pervert-ism. Yes, no such thing exists in the world of vocabulary given to us by shitty bearded people like Shakespeare and his kind. I’ll make my own words, my own superlatives and I don’t give a rat’s ass if you have a blank face upon hearing these.


Well, this thing called pervert-ism was aimed at people like us. And hence people around us get a tinge of it which may eventually give birth to people who may be absolute nerds but have a copy of the latest porno in the nearest drawer. Silent, yet deadly. If you’re over 12 years of age, you should know how this proverb applies to this context.


Like I said before, the variety of people around us results in the outcome of people with a greater and of course, shocking variation. How do I know? Well, trust me, I’ve found porn in a guy’s cell phone whom I’ve least suspected to have being a regular porn-watcher. And the comeback he’s got? “I downloaded it for you”. Yeaah raiite shithead, why don’t you just admit it that you used it last night?
On the other hand, I’ve got friends like AxmonsFucker, yeah Sadman, that is. For instance, if I go like….


Me: Sadman, gimme your phone for a sec.
Sadman: Dude wait. Im downloading porn.
See? That’s the difference.


Furthermore, I’ve got friends like Rumman, who stated the following rule:
“Any guy who doesn’t watch porn is gay”


Well, I still haven’t made up my mind if I agree to his rule or not.
Simultaneously, his cousin, Sofia…


-We’re on the phone-
Me: KSA te toh porn sites blocked! =\
Sofia: Seriously, how do you live there?
Sofia: I mean, a country that doesn’t allow porn-_-
Me: Ikr, irony of fate.


Well, I decided to change the topic before I get own’d.


Okay, I think I gotta get rid of this topic concerning porn and pervert-ism. For real. And get this- My point is not that anyone who watches porn is cool or something.
You have no idea in what many ways people can take this stuff I wrote =\                         


Period.


Moving further, people around me, like, the ones I literally have fun with can be really fucked up at times.
On a side note, they’re random, crazy and fun.


When I said they can be fucked up, they get mixed up with words and shit. On one occasion, we’re talking about the commonest topic within us- chics. Atm, the chic referred to here, is Ruq.


Me: OMG, did u see how Ruq changed?
Ifte: Neah, what happened?
Me: Well, she kinda became hawter.
Me: Thinner, as well.
Naeem: No dude, she became thinner and chubbier.
Me: Uhh, man. How is that supposed to make sense?
Ifte and Addy: HAHAHAHA ^^


Moreover, at times, while in the midst of a conversation, they reply with exact opposite answer. They realize what they’ve been saying after about 5 seconds. No, I don’t wear a watch to school.
  
Case1
-while talking about Neemo’s age-
Ifte: Naeem’s like 14.
Amir: Are you kidding me?
Ifte: Yes, Naeem’s 14.
Amir: Are you kidding me?
Ifte: Yes.


Case2
-on the commonest topic, chics that is-
Addy: I only talk to single girls.
Me: Umm, Sadia’s single?
Addy: Yeah
Me: What? Sadia’s single? =|
Addy: Yeah.


See what I meant when I said they reply with the exact opposite answer?


Well, let me give you a shot of their biting sarcasm.


Me: Sope, do I mail the vids right away?
Urmi: Neah.
Me: Then, when should I send them?
Urmi: The day I become pregnant.
Me: LMAO!


Moving on…


-A convo on MSN between Tansif and Ifte, about chicks, duu-uhh! An no idint go thru their chat logs. Ifte narrated em!-


Ifte: Dude, gimme chicks!
Tansif: I don't have any.
Ifte: C’mon, you're close to alotta chicks.
Ifte: Even Kumo’s in love with you.
Tansif: Dude, we’re talking about girls here, not guys! -.-
Ifte: LOL!


Man, after all this banter, I’m like super tired now. And as you all know, I’m pretty much the awesome-est person you people have ever laid your eyes on cuz the Lord’s blessing leave me at the best advantages. Therefore, I don’t think none deserves a break at the moment more than me, so yeah, I’ll think I’ll stop here. SeeYa! 


PeaceOut!