I’m of the opinion that being arrogant and declaring my pride is of an essential function to being Firdy. It is not just about promoting myself above the people who choose to lose to my fabricated lies of nonexistent overachievement, but it is also to set an immoral example for others to follow.
Like how i did to my girlfriend this morning. There’s this guy who keeps on texting her. She asked me why. So i told her;
“He’s probably just lonely. Be nice on him. Say that your boyfriend is super hot and intelligent.”
I think, yeah. For all those lies and being arrogant, i’m so going to hell =(
Ayoyo, saya orang minyak! Tada suka sama saya ka? =(
Oh so sexy!
I, at any rate, am convinced that He(God) does not throw dice.
- Einstein, on the Copenhagen Interpretation, and the weirdness of quantum.
To which his friend, Neils Bohr replied;
Einstein, don’t tell God what to do.
I love you for guys for all the things that you’ve taught to this world. May one day, i become as smart as you guys and for once in my life, i wish to kiss Lisa Randall for she is the sexiest physicist i’ve ever admired in my life.
(Hey you guys. Lisa Randall tells us there’s an extra dimension in the universe and we’re not physically designed to experience it. I believe her. In fact, i thought of the same thing too before i actually came across her article which was published in Discover magazine.)
(And she always talks confidently about Kaluza-Klien. Oh so hot!)
They smashed the fledgling protons. For a minuscule second, there was a quick silence.
Then, there was the most beautiful astronomical round of applause i’ve ever witnessed in my nomadic life. ALICE and ATLAS made the loudest sound. It lasted for more than a minute, and i wondered in pit 8, or point 8, or the ‘beauty’ as the people in white, blue and yellow helmets called it, i wondered in the celebration of the year, if people would begin to question their religions, if they’d known what we knew. Perhaps they wouldn’t. Perhaps some of brave ones would.
In the celebration of the year, today we know what created the universe. We’ve just created it, a minute ago in the Large Hadron Collider.
Thousands years ago, the sun and everything in the sky were our gods and goddesses. Then there was a mass murder, we killed all the gods and goddesses and replaced them with newer ones, closer to our homes, and hearts. We learnt that earth was just a planet, and there were many other planets as well. Then we learnt more about our sun and the planets around it, we created new calenders, we changed the gods so often that we narrowed down to only one : The Abrahamic God.
Alas, Ahura Mazda didn’t become today’s the one and only God, although He too, was one uncreated Creator. And the teachings of Ahura Mazda as the one uncreated Creator — according to some reputable scholars — are older than those of Abrahamic.
God, even when He is the only one uncreated God, He dies because it was us, the human beings who gave birth to Him. He dies because He is theological. Taught by a teacher, taught by a prophet, taught by someone who claimed to have received divine revelation. Maybe someone really did receive divine revelation. Maybe someone was a true prophet. Even maybe, God exists. But theological God dies. He dies because He is theological.
But the reality is, things in this universe, they don’t die. They don’t die because it wasn’t us, the human beings who gave birth to them. We didn’t create anything out of nothing. We make them change forms. Energy into matter, matter into energy. Sadness into songs. Loneliness into morbid writing. Love into heartbreak. Butter into cookies. Collision into ‘beauty’. And ‘beauty’ in pit 8 is where i’m at.
I am a time traveller, i came from the year 1980, it took me 29 years to come here, and i’m here to find the perfect cure for cancer. By first witnessing it myself. That matter can be converted into energy. And energy back into matter by colliding high-energy particles, smash the accelerated protons or lead ions at very high energy collision until the energy turn into new particles, heavier than what they were before the collision.
E=mc2, even if Einstein was slightly wrong with the equation, in layman’s terms, it goes like this : if particles were two persons and each of these 2 persons weigh 60kgs, i put both of them on a scale, the scale will read their total weight, 120kgs. But i smash these two persons at very high energy, these two persons will ‘morph’ into many ‘new persons’, more than just the original 2, and the total weight of them is more than 120kgs. It is like this because energy is turned into ‘new persons’. And if the collision was a very-very-very high energy, it would create heavier ‘new persons’ who were so heavy they collapsed into micro black holes. But these micro black holes are not stable enough to remain as black holes for too long. They would soon ‘evaporate’ and burst into more ‘new persons’, says Stephen Hawking about his theoretical thermal radiation.
Things don’t die in this universe, they change forms. In this underground tunnel, a minute ago, i saw how universe was born. There was God, for a moment, He wasn’t theological.
For a moment, i believed in Him.
For a moment, we saw what we saw, and believed what we never believed.
It was DELPHI before it is LHCb. And it is beautiful.
Puasa separuh hari.
Makan banyak, gemuk macam Jestina.
Sober.
Drunk, obviously.
Beyond drunk, obviously.
Errrr….. probably not even me. Someone who looks like me, i guess.
I don’t like you.
I didn’t brush my teeth. I start my morning with a cigarette and listening to some old school hip-hop songs. God, forgive me.
A month after today.
Tomorrow, I will revolutionize the world. I will start with brushing my teeth in the morning. For precisely 10 minutes, that’s all it will take.
For the next 24 months, I will find the perfect cure for cancer, end world hunger, write a song about homosexuality — or try to, bake a colourful cake, think of the gay lyrics to write, bake butter pecan cookies, resort to plagiarizing notable works of homo tunes — probably George Michael, and return to where i came from.
My name is Zuadrif, i came from the year 1980. It took me 29 years to travel to the correct future. There are about 219 wrong years i’ve beamed into — i’ve been to the alternative universes, i’ve seen what most have not –, and finally, have come to the right year. The year 2009. The correct year in the correct relative world, only parallel to mine, but also the year in a strange world where keen scientists are still making attempts at colliding accelerated particles in an underground tunnel that stretches between the Jura Mountains and Lake Geneva, near the French-Swiss border.
27 kilometers in circumference, the tunnel is 175 meters deep, about 29 years away from home, i’m not gonna waste any minute, and will brush my teeth in 10.
Tomorrow, i will make the healthiest man in the world to begin developing a specific type of cancer within his body, in about 4 weeks if i can get everything to be working precisely right, it will be the first steady hypothesis to what causes cancer. The first step to curing cancer, in my professional opinion as a man (and being a man is not an easy task), is to force infectious mutations in cell division, on a healthy subject. If I can always, without fail produce premeditated genetic errors each time i intend to do so, then the exact cause of cancer will be scientifically proven.
The first step to write a song, or to bake a colourful cake or wonderful cookies, or to end a world hunger, is still a mystery.
When no one’s around, i dance.
Although yeah, awfully wrong.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.
Dancing in the office
Erotic dancing in my room
is a girl when i first met i thought was beautiful like the sun, regardless if no one would share the same opinion as mine.
Through time, i learnt that she isn’t so pretty. Quite ugly actually.
And her mind too. Nothing is so pretty about her mind.
But regardless of what i think of her, and what others might, — for reasons unknown, but time will tell, qua qua qua qua* –, she’s a dear friend. The divine Miranda.
Divine apathia, divine athambia, divine aphasia, who loves us dearly with some exceptions for reasons unknown, but time will tell.
Qua qua qua qua.
It doesn’t matter if i’m absurd as much as the theater, for reasons unknown, or tragic as much as the comedy, and citing Lucky’s speech, in the public works of Puncher and Wattmann, is to say blast hell to heaven, so blue still and calm so calm with a calm* [..], ok, enough of Lucky already!
Where was I again?
Oh yeah, Yenmay. She’s a dear friend regardless of what friends mean, regardless of what regardless means, she isn’t so happy lately. Could be because of you, my dear readers. Something tells me she isn’t happy with the world, including you and you, excluding me and me.
And it has been some time since she last laughed. Must be hard being ugly and depressed, i had thought.
So dear Yenmay, i might not be the best person to make you all smiling again, in fact, i think i’m the wrong person to do anything good to this world, but to destroy it, but i’d like to think that your dear friends can, make you all smiling again, and do other good thing i couldn’t. I have taken videos of them doing silly things, and here are your silly friends.
Isn’t Carol funny?
Tim doesn’t know what funny means
and here’s mine. An old video i must say.
Short Dance
Yenmay dear, don’t be sad for too long yeah. Cheer up =)
Remember in the back seat when we were doing, errr… nothing i guess.
You’re a nice friend. Remember the tattoo parlour and surgical needles. And the piercing and the cupcakes.
Go take over the world yeah. And then i’ll see you when i see you.
People like to talk to me in the elevators, even when my ears are plugged with artistic composition from the demented people who wish to die — they wish to no longer live in this world. I think so. But anyways, people like to talk to me in the elevators, even when my ears are plugged with whatever genres of music my iPod can feed me.
Except for dangdut, i wish that will never happen. Now, ‘Amen’ with me. Please, if you believe in God — even when i don’t — please, after you’re done praying for more banknotes and daily orgasms with pictures and videos from the net, please pray for me. Don’t allow Him to make me less prejudiced towards dangdut music.
Amen now.
A year ago, there was a guy — a cute guy if you believe whatever lies i tell you — who was being friendly to me after he went out from the elevator. Today, there was a black man — a real black man, if you believe whatever lies i tell you — who talked to me when i still had the earphones plugged to my ears. He said;
“Bro, i saw you this morning.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah man. Small,” and made his palms facing each other, and squeezed the air in between with his palms, and said, “small world.”
“Hehehe. You studying?”
“Yeah, SEGi College. Architecture.”
Farah — if she still reads my blog — would have not agreed with him. For Farah believes it’s architorture.
“How is it?”
“Okay after 2 years ..”
After so many years, i still don’t understand why people like to talk to me in the elevators. Not that i don’t like it. I do love talking to random people. But the way they talk, as though they’ve been secretly read this blog.
Now, that’s creepy because i’m prejudiced. I called him a black man. And i wish to never listen to dangdut.
P/S : The black man actually smelled nice. I think i’ve used the same perfume as his. And he’s cool, he did the ‘ebony handshake’ and he said ‘take care bro’.
We’ve got a war to fight
Never found our way
Regardless of what they say
