just minishorts.

Neither is anything yours.

Not even that house you stay in, nor the money in your pocket, not even the physical body that your soul dwells in. We're all in debt, living on borrowed time, and everything here will go up in smoke, one day. What good are riches, what good is the land you own on paper, when the time comes for you to say goodbye?

…

Bangsa Malaysia pwfttt. When the time comes for you to put your possessions on the line, what do you do?

You drag in racial issues, you drag in monetary issues. We start voting and we choose for the leader with the most capability to help us in further prospering ourselves. Or the leaders who will fight till the end so that we can be able to keep our lands. We put our honour and integrity to elect for the person who will stand out and say 'If you vote me I will ensure you will become richer,' and like iron dust to a rusty magnet, we get attracted by the artificial lure of false economic splendour.

…

And then when all things are in vain, they resort to personal attacks. Racial attacks. Religious attacks. 'What kind of Chinese are you?' 'Did you notice this whole building is full of Indians and it's like an MIC building?' 'Why the hell are these businesses only given out to Malays?' 'Stupid idiots building mosques in front of my house!' 'What the hell why Chinese pray must have so much dong chang dong chang?'

It gets personal, and then deep down, ask yourself, who are you living your life for? Your self or your principles? Your kids? Your God? Your politician?

It's all about money and what you own, isn't it? Strip it all away and that's all there is.

Ironically, nothing here, nothing at all, actually belongs to us. Because when we die, we return to where we came from. We become penniless once more, and all the riches we own, all the lands in the world won't do us any good.

You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.