#ThePeopleProject2015

I guess you may call me strange for making friendships a project, but the way I see it, if I don't put effort then what's the point? Those of you who have been following this blog (I don't know why you would be, but thanks?), you would know that some time last year, I started an initiative called: Project: Begin Again. And that project was to focus on lost friendships. I'm happy to say that the project was a success of some sort. I did reconnect with friendships past and now I shall move on to the next step: #ThePeopleProject2015 ! *cue intro music*

While Project: Begin Again was about finding friendships, #ThePeopleProject2015 will be about maintaining friendships. It's about keeping in touch and I do not mean in an I-saw-and-read-what-you-posted kind of way, but in a let's-meet-up kind of way. It's about making time for the people I find important in my life. If you are my friend on Facebook, you would have noticed that I've already started this with an album dedicated to #ThePeopleProject2015.

In a way, this and last year's project goes hand in hand and share many similarities. I am still connecting. I am still reconnecting. Nothing much changes except maybe the focus. I've thrown out a wide net last year, not it's time to narrow that net. I've always cherished one-to-one conversations to grouped ones (Though I can be pretty awkward in smaller groups) and this project is about the depth. I don't want to be that hi-bye friend.

So to those I've already met, I'll be seeing you again soon. To those I'm seeing soon, Hi. And to those I've yet to contact, I'm making time. If I don't contact you it could mean one of two things: 1) I meet you so often that there's really no need to make a dramatic effort i.e. Family, Church peeps and former colleagues and 2) I'm not really close to you (but if you want to change that, feel free to drop me a message).

Note: I do realize that my album on Facebook seems rather sexist, but I assure you, I have male friends too.  

The Best Days of Our Lives are Behind us

And it was done. 

After pursuing something for so long (four years), taking a new step in a different direction seems rather awkward. 

27th April marked the official and ceremonial day in which I received my Bachelor's Degree, and as I sat there waiting in line for my ten seconds of fame, one thought ran across my head. The best days of my life is behind of me. You know how every lecturer and uncle tells you that the best days of their lives were always in University? Yea, so it seems that for me, it will be downhill from here. Why is it downhill? 

It's actually really simple. It goes downhill from here, because now, I stop taking from society and start contributing. I've been fed the spoils from my parents' work and swept the joys of generation before me. I'm not going downhill in the sense that I stop growing; I'm going downhill in the sense that before this, I was young and the world owed me a favor, and now, I owe the world. I was naive and was reckless; now I have to be wise and thoughtful. I must give more than I receive, I must serve more than I've been served, and I must make those who have come before me proud. 

Here I start giving back, but I cannot give without remembering those who have given in the first place. Those who have given and walked with me on this four year journey that began at HMC and exploded when I entered the department of Psychology are many indeed. 

Here I say my thanks to those who were by my side even for a short while, to those who shaped my very character, to those who knew I could do better, to those who encouraged, and to those whom I shared this road with. Now we bid goodbye to the constant meetings with a hope that the friendships that we form will go beyond the convenience of our degree life. I bid farewell with the confidence that you are all not only a part of the best days of my life that is behind me, but the best days of my life before. Because I know that the days we spend together will be those best days. 

It has come to the part in which I want to stretch out my personal thank you to those of whom I am referring to above. 

To my family:

I was never easy to work with; never easy to listen. Yet you pulled through. You put through all my nonsense and stubborn stands. You stood through all my rebellious bouts and grand ideas. I wouldn't have prayed for a better God-fearing and steadfast group of people to be my anchor when I go astray and compass when I lose track of what's important. 

To the Faculty:

My degree journey would not be complete without the wise guidance of my lecturers who seem to actually take time to know you on a personal level instead of staying high in the academic clouds. Throughout my years as a 17 year old kid from HMC to the 21 year old degree-wielding graduate, I've come across people who have shaped me tremendously by providing a personal touch with their professionalism.

To those in HMC: Thank you to Ms. Ida Jamil, who told me that she expected a HD from me, Ms. Selena Ong, who was friendly though strict (And definitely prepared me for Ms. Winnee in the following year), Mr. Joel, who walked a line of integrity in his life and showed that a man of God could do more in a classroom than a pulpit, Mr. Murali, who showed me that it was okay to be a little geeky, and Ms. Annie, who even though never taughtt me in the classroom, taught me nonetheless.

The Degree Life: When I entered degree life I was first overwhelmed by sheer numbers. I thought that the personal contact with lecturers which I had in HMC was gone, but I was proven wrong. Throughout the three years, I've come to admire and respect the people who stood in front of the class and taught me through a microphone (and without one).

To Ms. Winnee, my thesis supervisor, statistics lecturer, and current boss, thank you for your patience and guidance especially throughout my thesis year. I know I was rather annoying with the daily emails when I panicked because I thought my thesis was in jeopardy, but you still replied with patience nonetheless. You are definitely the only lecturer I know that can keep us at the edge of our seats during stats class. I'm going to miss hearing and being traumatized by "Question 1".

  

Credits to Ong Chia Wei

To Dr. Goh Chee Leong, thank you for giving me a second chance at pursuing psychology and for inspiring lessons in life. I will not be here now if not for your guidance. I can still remember you giving a 4 hour long crash course on psychology about 5 years ago when I participated in the Psych Challenge. Thank you for taking time off you uber busy schedule to continue to lecture.

To Dr. Anasuya, my biggest regret is sitting in your class only in my final semester of my final year. Even though you've only taught me for one class, that class has definitely left a huge impact on me. Your class taught me that the final exam wasn't important, it was the learning journey that we should cherish, and I did cherish the thought-provoking, brain-picking, and sophisticated discussions held in class. I know how much you hate big classes, but I'm definitely encouraging people to at least sit in one of your classes.

Last but definitely far from least, to the Fellow Psychos of Jan'11:

We made it (some of us just a little faster, but no wiser). I definitely could not have wished for a more complete bunch of friends that we have come to be along the way. I want to thank you all for tolerating my nonsensical and lame humor and for giving this "small boy" a place in your social circles. 

To Justin, the bro, the wingman, and tai kor, thank you for every piece of advice you've given me, for tolerating my ranting, and for teaching me "the YOLO way of life". Though I'm quite bummed by the fact that we cannot graduate together, I'm thankful that you took the time to even make it for the event. Here's to all "the other nights" and all the nights and days to come. I don't know if I show it, but I definitely look up to you as my friend and my adviser in life.

To Ong Mei Li (Millie Ong), I always saw you as the smart girl who would not want to hang out with the small fries, and you proved me wrong. I always adored your down-to-earthness and your ability to genuinely care for people. Thank you for looking out for me, and going the extra mile. I'm a little sad that you won't be joining the few of us to tutor, but I know that you are going to be a phone call away. 

To Alvin Tea, thank you for being the statistical brain among our group of guys. I know for a fact that I wouldn't be standing here in this gown if not for your love for the subject. All the best in your future endeavors and keep up with your healthy routine. I will be there when it is your turn to wear the robes. 

To Lu Yi Chang Lu Lu, as I recently told you, you are one of my closest friends in Uni. Thank you for putting up with me emo face, listening when I needed someone to talk to, and cheering me up when I needed it. I cherish our friendship and I wish you the best in your career plan! 

To Eunice Foo, thank you for being the cheerful one in times of struggles. You are one of the few people whom I know I can trust. I pray that your genuineness and selflessness will continue to be your superpower in the workforce!

To William Saw Kian Ann, the burger buddy and fellow assignment mate. I admire the way that you always somehow got things done. Thank you for being part of the five-men crew which started from 106 all the way to the end. 

To Shyvonne Lee, the makan buddy and the good friend, I'm going to miss our endeavor for food the most, bracing umbrella breaking rain just to get a good roti pisang. Thank you for being a constant friend that I can call upon to have random chats with. I will be there screaming when you go on stage to get your scroll next year. 

To Adeline, the fellow room vagrant, I'm thankful for your genuine heart that always finds time for other people. I mean what I say when I say that you are the ***** of the bungalow in a completely good way. 

Because I'm sleepy I need to speed this up. 

To Ross Stephenson, Munyan, Su Han, Jonathan Lee, Shyuan, Valerie, Shu Li, Wai Meng, Grace Chee, Kylie, Jay Aaron, Hevind, Vania, Vinnie, and countless others who have contributed to my degree life, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. 

As I say goodbye to the best days of my life, I look forward to the other best days of my life and I'm pretty sure that many of you will be sharing those best days with me. 

The Problem with Altar Calls

"Here at the altar, oh my world is so black and white. How could I ever falter when You've shown me to be right..." - Casting Crowns

Last weekend I attended an evangelical event. Focus on the word evangelical. As expected in these evangelical meetups, there was bound to have an altar call at the end of the meeting. For those readers who don't know what an altar call is, it is the part near the end of the service in which the speaker normally calls for those who feel prompted to come to the front of the hall to be prayed for. Why the need to come forward? Well, it serves a dual purpose, for the convicted person, it serves as a clear decision made, and for the speaker, it serves as an easier means to gather the willing people instead of hunting for them through the crowd.

Over the years as a Christian, I've seen the altar call used for a variety of purposes. The main usage for an altar call would be to invite non-Christians who have been convicted my a message or play to come forward to receive Christ as their Lord and Savior, and I tell you whenever I see that happen, I am touched. Altar calls are also used for backsliding Christians to rededicate their live to God, for the sick to seek for healing, for the troubled needing rest, for those who want to respond to the message, and also for parents to dedicate their children to God. I am completely fine with altar calls being used as a platform for healing and dedication just as an actual altar was used in times of old, but the issue I see with modern altar calls is that their focus on the conviction of the individual has seemed to have changed to become an ego booster for the speaker or for the speaker to gauge how effective his (or her) message was. Pleasing the egos of some Billy Graham wannabe should never be the focus of giving an altar call. The altar call should always be between the individual and God. 

When evangelists like the above-mentioned Billy Graham, Billy Sunday, and Dwight L. Moody, spoke fire upon multitudes of people in their time, they didn't rate their performance by the amount of people who responded to the altar call. It wasn't about the glory, it was about God. God spoke through these humbled men, and because they were his lips, people were convicted.

The problem with altar calls in this day and age is that we have evangelists (or so-called ones) trying their best to imitate the humbled men of old. I do not say that these men are not humble, but I question their conviction and purpose of calling an altar call.

(I feel it is appropriate to include a disclaimer here before I continue: I'm not saying that God doesn't use altar calls to convict people or inspire preachers to make an altar call. I'm just saying that altar calls have somehow turned into a publicity stunt.)

Take the recent altar call I experienced. The speaker began by asking if anyone was touched by the presentation. When silence was the response, he encouraged (strongly encouraged) Christians who brought their non-believers to bring them up saying things like 'the time is NOW' and 'it's between you and God (and apparently your friend too)'. More silence led to him changing his approach to a more machine gun tactic. He called for Christians who wanted to rededicate their lives to God to come forward, he asked for parents who wanted to dedicate their children to God to come forward, he asked for those wanting to receive healing to come forward, and it went on and on until he covered every single criterion of those who needed prayer. This made me doubt the genuineness of the call. I mean, shouldn't an altar call be inspired by God since the whole purpose of an altar call is redundant without the presence of God? So if God is indeed speaking to this (with lack of another term) speaker, shouldn't his altar call bear fruit? Isn't God's voice specific?

I personally believe that God has a specific time which he chooses to convict people. It can't be forced upon a person. Someone has to come voluntarily to Him at the time he or she is ready. So if an altar call isn't the right place for that, shouldn't a speaker not push it? Because to be honest, watching preachers desperately call for people to come forward is sad. I get discouraged by it. I feel like I'm attending more of a product launch than anything.

"Step right up! God has a message JUST for you! It doesn't matter about the people beside you. This is between YOU (my ego) and God. God wants to speak to you if you have the courage to come forward (the presence of God is stronger in front here...in my presence). Do you feel that? That tingle down your spine? That is the Holy Spirit prompting you! (actually it's a matter of bringing your unconscious to the conscious, and we also downed the temperature of the air con by a tad bit.). He's waiting for you to come. Now is the time!"

Does the above sound familiar? I've sat through many altar calls directed at potential believers and when I put myself in their shoes, I know for a fact that I wouldn't be convicted. I honestly wouldn't go up and stand in front of a thousand onlooking strangers and ask the speaker to help me say the sinner's prayer. If the speaker continues to push, I'm going to run. Instead of bringing me in front of the altar, the little sales pitch will only encourage me to take two steps back.

I know that there are speakers out there who use the altar call properly and this post is not directed at them. This post just questions the (what I feel are) insincere 'evangelists' out there just trying to make a name for themselves.

Project: Begin Again

 "Friends never say goodbye..."

- The Road to El Dorado

Like a wave of uneasiness, regrets flooded my thoughts yesterday night that meant sleep was to be eluded. All the thoughts had a common theme - loss of friendship. Over my 20 over years of life, one thing that I've found most intriguing is my lack of ability to sustain friendships. I have no idea how to continue talking to a person who is not a current classmate, church friend, or co-worker. Honestly, starting a conversation with a person I have not talked to in a few months is daunting. 

What do I say? 

What can we talk about?
What is appropriate?

The beauty of social networking has been the bane. I convince myself that I am in touch with these old friends just because I read their updates, but truth be told, where is the one-to-one communication? Where is the human interaction that is so key?

My biggest fear with catching up with old friends is that I don't know what is the protocol. Talking to peers with current interests is easy. You find a topic of commonality and you shoot. Hopefully, the other will continue the same protocol and a question-answer-share cycle begins.

But isn't there another protocol for long lost friends? What do I even say to someone I haven't met in a while?
'Hi, how are you? (I know you're feeling a little low; I read your tweet)'
'What have you been up to? (I know you went to the bar the other day because of your status update)'
'Long time no see (I see your profile picture popping up on my newsfeed)'

I can't say I blame social media for my loss of friendship, but I can say that social media gives me an illusion that I still have this friendship. The problem with that is that though I am, in some ways, in constant contact with my old friends, there is no exchange of good quality conversations.

What happens when my friends are more of the reserved kind? What happens when I don't see any updates from them? I simply lose touch. I end up not knowing what this person is doing, and this troubles me.

This troubles me because I want to know how you (by you I mean all you wonderful people who I can call friends) are doing. I want to be a friend again, and this is what this post is about.

----

Project: Begin Again

A cool name for a simple objective: To reconnect with lost friends within this year.

I've been terrible at maintaining friendships, and I don't want to lose the people who have been involved with my social development. So I'm taking this year to start random conversations with people whom I once called close and those that I want to be closer to.

To the people I've lost contact with because of distance. To the people I've lost contact with because of separation. To the people I've lost contact with simply because it wasn't convenient to meet anymore. To the people I've lost contact with because I didn't make an effort to maintain our friendship. I would first like to apologize, and to tell you that I'm trying to reconnect.

The Next Three Steps

The four-year plan has been accomplished. When I first walked into the orientation hall on the second day of 2010, the four-year plan was implemented. The four-year plan entailed completing my foundation year without any hindrances. An unfortunate miscalculation occurred in the first semester when I failed calculus and therefore had to take on more than I could chew in the subsequent two semesters just to finish the Foundation program in time for step two of the four-year plan. And I managed to pull through. Entering the psychology degree in HELP exactly a year after I first stepped into HELP as a foundation student was more than satisfying. I knew that the four-year plan was still in action, and that if I work hard enough, I just might be able to finish my degree in three years. First year passed by in a blink of an eye until I was faced with my first dilemma - friendships. I had to choose between taking on heavier workload, or follow my friends into extending a semester. I chose to take on the pressure and managed to barely survive balancing the coursework of 5 subjects and the subsequent two semesters, before I reached year 3. Year 3 went on rather smoothly except for the technical glitch in my Thesis that had me fearing that I could have to repeat my semester again. But thankfully that wasn't the case, and after deciding to push through my final semester with much rumination, I sit here today typing these words as a psychology graduate, and more importantly as a person who has accomplished his four-year plan.

And so like most adventurers after finishing a deary quest, the question on my mind is: What's next?

As of now my future is a blur, but if it's one thing the four-year plan has taught me, it is to always plan ahead. After much deliberation, a plan has been formed. A three step plan that would at least cover the next three years of my life unless something remarkable happens - I find my passion. This next three years will include my testing out of various job environments that a psychologist would venture into in order to find out my interests and what I really want to do with the rest of my life. I began implementing my three-step plan at the end of the four-year plan. With encouragement from my academic superiors, I have signed a one-year contract to be a graduate tutor. This job would expose me to the kind of lifestyle an academic would have as well as allow me to build my rather small network of contacts. Since education has been what I've been doing all my life, it felt natural to begin with what I was most comfortable with.

The following two years are undecided but the plans to venture into the corporate and event world seems likely. Basically these next three years will be used to explore possible work options for my future, and more importantly indicate an idea as to what I may pursue postgraduate. The three-year plan is not set in stone and it is only in the initial stages of planning. If by some remarkable phenomena, I find my passion before the three years are up, then the three-year plan might have to be cut short.

So as for now, I'm taking these next three steps in good faith that the God who has brought my four-year plan into completion will bless these next three steps. I trust also in the lessons that the last four steps have taught me and in the friendships that have followed me through. Here's to the next three steps!

Earthling

The Story

He feels everything that touches his skin.—the joy and the pain.  He hears the cries and the laughter.  He sees the tears and the smiles.  Everything that happens within him, he is aware.  Nothing goes unnoticed.  He cries when they cry, yet laughs when they laugh.  Tears flow down his eyes as he feels their pain.  He knows no matter what they do now, it is too late, and he will eventually die, yet he continues to give them shelter, to give them warmth. 

He is their only hope.  He protects them from out-of-the-world threats.  His brethren have accused him of being too soft.  All of them had already destroyed their own.  Only he continues to love them even though they kill him.  He tells them this. “They were given to me as a gift from our father as my responsibility.  Why would I want to destroy the gifts of my father? Why would I want to tell him that I am not responsible for the task?” But they will reply, “Brother, the very gift your father has given to you is killing you.  Even now you cough in our presence!  Maybe our father had made a mistake? Maybe you were not yet as prepared to receive this gift as he had thought? Brother, heed our plea! They do not care about you! They treat you as we would treat a dwarf from the far realm! Though you hold them dear, they reject you.  The things they do to you—their curses and abuse—will only destroy you.  You are one of the great ones. Why let the weak destroy the strong?”

Every time they met, he would be pleaded to reject them. Still he remained strong in his decision.  All his other brothers had already abandoned their gifts from their father.  His youngest brother, threw them to the sun, the second youngest poisoned them, his oldest brother froze them as did the second and third oldest, while the forth oldest and the fifth destroyed them with disease.  Only the sixth oldest managed to hold on to his gift longer but soon also gave them up to plague.  Only the seventh son keeps his gift.  But the pressure from his brothers is killing him.  He understands their concern.  He knows very well whatever they do now will not make it any better…it can only get worst.

No matter how many times they have tried to save him, their wars had only made it worst.  Their inventions were meant to make things better, but for every good creation they came up with, they made ten more that were bad.  Their thirst for war was too much for him to handle, yet he continues to shelter them.  He has the power over their lives, and they do not care.  All they say about is that if he dies, they will go to his older brother, and he would accept them.  His cries are felt by them, but they do not care—he holds back his shelter to let them feel the burning of the sun, but they still ignore him.  He will die.

The Revelation

He is the Earth and his brothers, the planets.  His people and destroyers are us…the humans.  God gave us this planet to live in. He gave us the most suitable place to live in, yet we destroy it.  He gave us examples of other planets.  Planets like Venus which is full of poison…like Mercury which is too near the sun, or Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto which are too far away.  God gave us a perfect world with only one error…mankind.  We were meant to take only what that needed to be taken and give back everything else, but what we are doing is just taking. 

Imagine if the Earth really had a conscience.  Imagine if you are the Earth, wouldn’t you like to listen to your ‘brothers’ and let them go? Imagine you are the Earth, and every human being was a needle stuck into your skin.  Now wouldn’t you want to give them up more?

God gave us this Earth this place for us to live in…for us to take care of…why can’t we just do that? Give more than you take; do more than you should.  We need to save our Earth and every small step that we take puts us closer to a healthier Earth. 

Raiders of Night

For those who have read one of my earlier posts on my attempt at writing a fictional novel, I have good news. No, I haven't finished, it will take some time more, but I have started on another novel based on my first novel entitled: Raiders of Night. It is a more in dept story about the Raiders of Night. Here is the first chapter...

Chapter 1: The Call

Something is filling the air with a distinct scent—victory. What a great aroma to wake up to! General Gon Haftakyl yawned with a smile on his face. His army from Meneland has been in battle with one of the little colonies northbound. His troops have successfully blocked all supplies from entering the little town. By today, the village will fall.

“Good morning, my lord,” A small tetrapus boy walked into the tent holding a platter with his master’s breakfast, “Your breakfast is ready.”

“Bring it here, Masix,” His master ordered. Since he was young, Masix has always seen to every need of Haktakyl, whether he could do it by himself or not. This has made Haftakyl a very fat man, but no one dare insult him—not in his presence at least. His subjects fear him as they would a raged troll. They fear him because whenever he is angry, Haftakyl would have the cause for his rage terminated. Haftakyl ruled with an iron fist—a white-hot iron fist.

“How’s the conquest?” asked the steel-hearted general.

“Soon to be yours, my lord,” Masix answered, trying to find favor in his master’s eye, and gaining the master’s favor means staying alive, “Soon the colonites will be your subjects.”

“Good. Good. Go now boy, I’ll be out shortly.”

Masix obeyed. The more he spends away from Haftakyl the more he won’t anger him and endanger his life.

Gon Haftakyl sees his loyal servant leave in a hurry. He knew that Masix feared him. He pondered whether it was for good or for bad. After all, the spark of rebellion begins with the loss of fear. In order to keep his men in check, Haftakyl had to constantly remind them why he was in charge. Though holding the power, he still felt powerless. He wondered if his men would help him up if he fell, or whether they will cheer his enemies to finish him off.

Gon Haftakyl, lord of the eastern border of Meneland, I summon you. Haftakyl jumped. He had only spread his bread when the voice called—it was just a whisper. He rose taking his sword from his side:

“Who are you?”

Do not fear me. The voice came from everywhere at the same time. Haftakyl swung in circles before he realized that he was not dealing a foe of natural abilities. This foe was in his mind.

“Show yourself, magician!” He barked, “I have no patience for your treachery. My seers will be here in a moments notice!” The lord wondered if his voice sounded stern. In truth, he had no such people as seers under his command. He never anticipated that a magician would bother him.

I know your lies, Haftakyl. I am just a messenger with a message. The shadows around Haftakyl darkened, though they should be disappearing since it is dawn.

“What is it?” Haftakyl spoke hoping that his experience with commanding a thousand soldiers and casting fear into his troops and enemies has not yet deserted him.

The mighty Avongel summons you. He has forged six thousand silver chains from the fires of Tophet, and has imprinted upon them power beyond what you now hold. He is just curious in asking whether you are interested in making a deal for this artifact. If you are then travel to Tophet. Do not bring anything but your horse and the supplies you need. Avongel wants to negotiate. Only you are to venture to Tophet, if you are seen with soldiers, you will not see them again. If you want to make a deal, be there in three days.

The room was silent once again. Haftakyl pondered whether he was daydreaming.

“No,” He said to himself, “It was real, and I must have that chain even if I have to trade my whole army to get my hands on it!”

So Haftakyl saddled his steed, a big and strong black horse—Theested—and left for Tophet. He left Masix in charge of his army, believing that his soldiers are in the best hands, since Masix knew him the best, and would not dare fail him.

Haftakyl traveled south for one straight day. He wanted to be there the first and thus giving him a better advantage of gaining the chains. His horse never tired to his surprise for he was a fat man. Little did Haftakyl know that his horse and the horses of five thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine other tetrapi have been aizoned not tire until they had arrived in Tophet.

On the second day of his travels, Gon Haftakyl came across another rider. The rider was traveling in the same direction. Haftakyl realized that this rider may be one of the other tetrapi whom Avongel had called. Thoughts raced through the general’s mind. Thoughts like: What would happen if there is one less tetrapi to collect? Would I, the one who finds his body, receive an extra portion of the chains? How would Avongel know?

Though the veteran of a thousand battles, Haftakyl knew next to nothing about magicians, and had no knowledge of one fact: Magicians learn to mind-read early in their training. And Avongel, being one of the first Magicians, known as the Gardeons, has the ability to read thousands of minds simultaneously, but the defiled Gardeon did not bother. Deceit and corruption are parts of his plan, and Haftakyl is making progress.

A fat stranger rides nearby. What are his intentions? Did he also hear the voices? The messengers of Avongel? Is he looking to fight me? I’m not here to fight. I just want to know whether such power exists. The thoughts of the other rider are heard by the king of corruption, but he isn’t pleased. Avongel forged six thousand chains, but summoned ten thousand tetrapi. He knew not all will have the strength to make it all the way. Some will not want the power, others will die on the way, and still others will b slain by other summoned tetrapi like Haftakyl. The other rider is one of those who will have the fate of the later.

Gon Haftakyl stops under the shade of a tree. He checks his hip for his blade, and after he was sure he could swing it faster than the other tetrapi could reach for his blade, he went out to greet the tetrapi.

The fat man stopped under the tree. Why? I can see him again. I’m not sure whether his fat hip is able to hide a blade, but I must be cautious. He walks towards me? Is he greeting me?

The other tetrapus dismounts his steed. Haftakyl lifts his hands into the air as a sign of welcome, or in Meneland, the sign of being unarmed.

So he is greeting me. Should I return his greeting? He reminds me of a famous general of Meneland—maybe Gourus or Haftakyl.

The tetrapus stops and observes Haftakyl. After he was satisfied, he put on his hood and walked towards Haftakyl.

Haftakyl waits impatiently under the tree. It was the trait that got him into the position of general, and it was this trait that has got him to be feared by both his enemies and his soldiers.

He sees the tetrapus walk toward him with the gesture of acceptance—his arms were set in a clasp in front of him. When the tetrapus was in hearing range, Haftakyl spoke.

“My brother, what reason brings you so far south?”

“It is probably same as yours, tetrapus.” replied the tetrapus. “Did you hear the call as well?”

“Aye,” Haftakyl responded, “And I intend to get that prize.”

Now the two were near enough to see each other.

“Masix?” Haftakyl announced shocked, “Why have you come here?”

“General Haftakyl? You heard the call?”

Now the general’s plans changed. How does he expect to kill the one person he had trusted; the one person he had raised as a son?

Haftakyl collapsed on the ground. Masix went over to him to help him.

“Get away from me, Masix!” commanded the general. Many alternate plans of action raced through his mind. He especially noted those that would not harm Masix.

He wants your chains. The voice crept into Haftakyl’s mind. He will kill you and have your chains and your army. Kill him now or else you would loose everything.

Haftakyl shakes his head in disagreement, but the voice became louder.

“Master, are you alright?” Masix had stood still for to long and reached to help Haftakyl.

“Get away from me! Don’t call me Master!” Sweat filled Haftakyl’s brows as he struggled to find an alternative, but the voice kept on insisting that there was only one way. He swatted Masix’s aiding hand away and covered his ears, hoping to stop the voice.

Soon, he knew that there was only one way to stop the voice. Haftakyl’s eyes shown with horror, fear, and anger all at once, while a smile covered his face.

“Master, are you okay?” inquired his faithful servant son.

Without warning and with the speed of a swooping bird of prey, Haftakyl’s blade thrusts through the one he called son. Shocked was all over Masix’s face as he collapses at his master’s feet—the man he trusted, but Haftakyl strangely felt happy—the persisting voice had stopped and better, he will have an extra chain.

In the land of Tophet, an evil grin fills the face of a menacing figure. He smiles because Haftakyl had done exactly what he had intended him to do. Lives mean nothing in Avongel’s mind. He wanted to know how far Haftakyl would go to receive the chains, and Haftakyl just made the right move in Avongel’s eyes.

Haftakyl mounts his horse and rides toward Tophet once more. He pays no attention to the body that lies under the tree. The body had once meant something to him, but now, the body holds no meaning. The years he had spent raising this tetrapus holds no meaning anymore. All that matters now is power—the chains.

the adventure of mouse. ep. 2

Hunting.

Now Mouse became bored resting and not moving in the window. He knew that if he did not do something fast, he could be blocked by the Screensaver.

So Mouse decided to start hunting for the legendary Firefox, the guardian of the Firewall. To begin he became an Internet Explorer in the Safari.

He soon came to a door which he could not push open the door. So he Shifted his weight abit and Entered the door. Now he came across valley and the only way he could cross it was to walk across a narrow Space Bar. When he crossed the bar, he heard noises from where he just was and saw a dozen Arrows coming towards him. Then he realised that he was trapped and there was no place to Escape. He quickly searched the wall with his hands and heard a Click--he had found an Alternate Escape. He went out of Google Earth after searching in vain for the Firefox.

What an adventure...!!! Mouse taught to himself.

the adventure of mouse. ep. 1

The Program.

Once upon a time a genius by the name of Gates invented Windows that could observe Apples. So this is where our story begins...because the Windows always observed the Apples, they did not notice the Mouse which entered the Windows using a Keyboard.

This is the adventure of Mouse.

The adventure of something small in the smallest universe.

Gifted

here's another idea i have for a would-be novel...not sure which i'll finish first though. ENJOY!!

Prologue

Ever since early B.C., a secret war has raged on across the globe between two powerful forces. They are the Gifted and the Taken. The ones who call themselves the Gifted can transport things from a parallel dimension into our world. Those of the Taken have unlimited abilities. Each member receives a unique gift when he joins the Taken's cause.

Their purpose for war differs. The Gifted plan to rid the world of chaos and destruction, while the Taken desire their master, who is corruption in every sense of the word, known as the Overlord, to rule Earth.

I know it sounds quite lame now...but wait til i finish xD

The Hood of Niadris

here is my attempt of writting a novel...
entitled: The Hood of Niadris.
it will be (if successful) part of a series of books called: The Legends of Brack

this is the prologue:

Prologue

In the time of powerful magicians—the time when the Great Magician Himself walked the land—Brack was a peaceful and prosperous land. The Great Magician and the Gardeons, his disciples, taught the inhabitants of Brack the ways of righteousness.

But the Great Magician had to leave Brack and return to Godholm when one of his own Gardeons, Avongel, betrayed him and corrupted the land. The Great Magician left His Gardeons in Brack to keep Avongel from completely distorting the land. They succeeded in pushing Avongel and his grotesque armies of cryans and evoluns south, and managed to trap Avongel there. Avongel took control of this place and it became known as Tophet, the land of smoke.

In case Avongel was to ever break the spell that held him there, Niadris, a magician fawn and disciple of Halbark, one of the Great Magician’s disciples, forged a helmet with the knowledge of ending the reign of Avongel. By forging this powerful instrument, Niadris quickly made enemies, mainly bounty hunters, hoping to gain something back from Avongel by destroying it. Fleeing for his life, Niadris hid the helmet in the Forest of Halbark, his mentor. There in the enchanted forest, the helmet was safe. No sensing Aizon could penetrate the magical thickness of the forest of Halbark.

After a few decades of imprisonment, Avongel found a loophole, through the Menelandine border. He released his Raiders of Night, his messengers of death, to prepare for his return to Brack. The Raiders began a reign of terror. In every village, town, or city visited by these Raiders, only ruins were left behind. Armies of any kind fell to the feet of these Raiders. Nothing stood in their way.

More recently, the Raiders have completely devastated the territory of Meneland and have moved north into Kanine. Their direction of destruction seems to be north and their next possible motion is east till the Avas Sea--in this way, destroying all of Brack from east to west.