No, it's not LSD, it's Ponstan

Drug abuse is quite a simple thing in Malaysia. This thought came to mind when I was in the clinic this morning (I have the disastrous flu again), and the doctor prescribed me Polaramin, Zyrtec and Panadol at the same time, without any explanation whatsoever except that Polaramin makes you drowsy.

This may sound all very eyebrow raising to you all, I mean, so what? He prescribed you medicine?. Well yeah, but Polaramin is a very strong anti-histamine, which beats Zyrtec anytime. But Zyrtec is still a strong antihistamine, but without the effects of Polaramin, so it's good for everyday use. So, why should I eat Zyrtec and Polaramin AND Panadol at the same time?

I explained to him I had some Clarinase this morning before the trip to the clinic, and that I cannot possibly eat those other drugs, and he said, yeah ok. Alright, maybe I'm being bias on his not informing me that eating all those drugs at the same time is lethally dangerous, I mean, he's been prescribing me those drugs since I was in primary school, so I guess he thinks I should be smart enough to not eat a dose of each at the same time.

I went out and told my dad what he prescribed me, and he just laughed. Yes, my liver will be down and dead by the time I finish the packets of dosages.

Well what I'm trying to say in this post is not about about how I feel all happy and smart for pointing out what should and shouldn't go together, but that drug abuse in Malaysia is just dead easy.

A very good friend of mine had a headache and had his mother's Ponstan, which is a painkiller I take sparingly only when I get a badass pain from the orthodontist. To add on to that unnecessary dosage, he also had paracetamol. He said he felt so high after that.

I know some people who have abused paracetamol due to depression. One got admitted into a hospital and had to have her stomach pumped. One got sent home with a hell lotta antacids. The point here is, that not how much or how little damage and pain it can cause you, but the fact that there are so many outlets in this country to abuse ourselves with objects that were meant to heal.

I know a pharmacy near my school where you can walk in and demand a normal behind the counter drug and get it with or without the pharmacist around. I also know that, walk into any Guardian here and ask for Zyrtec, and ta-daa, you'll get it if theres a pharmacist on duty. Overseas, you might even need a prescription from a doctor to get you one packet of lovelies.

Fucking up your liver is the slowest, most subtle, hardest way to die with the simplest methods of doing so. Having a failed liver will cause havoc to your health, will make you even more yellow than you are, and will kill you softly and slowly unless you are lucky enough to get a liver transplant. And survive under the knife and the risk of rejection.

I have a whole cabinet dedicated to anti-histamines, pain killers, and uneaten packets of different types of paracetamol in my kitchen. Now, tell me, if I were really really mentally unstabled,really depressed, being on my last nerve and so exhausted out of life; how long exactly is the period of time for me to finish those paracetamol packets and gladly declare my one way ticket to death?

Not long at all. I guess it's to make way for the really long ride to hell.

Of A New Year

There are a million other things for me to be doing right now, one of them being sleep. It is currently 2A.M. on Friday morning and I find myself awake albeit lethargic and tired, but clearly conscious and functioning.

I know it is clearly too late for me to say this, but I would like to wish you all a Happy New Year 2006, as this being my first post into the new year. I'm sorry for the complete halfhearted dedication which I put forth into my blog, and I hope to change that, as well, it is a new year and all.

My new year had started off pretty fine and dandy, despite the looming clouds ahead. As many as you may know, (as do my relatives who clearly know my age yet can't resist asking " Eh, this year you're having your PMR right?") I shall be sitting for a big examination at the end of the year.

This would mean less online time, less blogging, less late nights doing nothing but surfing on wikipedia and less extra-curricular activities, of course. But as I have quite the complex of wanting to make an arse out of myself by trying to be different, the whole sentence I said before should not apply to anything ;P

The first week of school saw the distribution of the school magazine which I believe fared smoothly. As you may all have already know by now, Stanley did a great job on the nature-themed cover, and that the magazine had been distributed faaar earlier than it had last year. The sections are nicely done, and I have nothing to say but as much as he was a complete pain at times, Peter coordinated the magazine well.

On a lighter note, I had also gotten the opportunity to publish my first completed attempt at a short story, and had gotten good criticism, though it is quite aggravating when people tend to think I was writing about myself, and that I smoke. It's quite amusing really, considering I believe I harbour a naughty childlike image (oh how I completely wish!) in school, and that it's completely absurd even to the most gullible student to believe so.

I have been blog-hopping these past few days, and just realised (yes, I am quite daft at certain things) that most people seem to share their darkest and best moments online for everyone to see. I know this is the point of blogging, but I am not talking about posts about school trips, hangouts, dates and events, arguments, fights yada yada yada, I mean those posts are usually tame rants fuelled by rage and broadband, but I am talking about some really surprising and eyebrow rising posts.

What is surprising about it to me is that it is not a blog of a friend of a friend, but a blog of a complete stranger from a different country, talking about things I would probably hide in a closet; despite my open and obnoxious nature. As I read the blog, and the about me section of the site, I felt like I was intruding somehow, stalking, as I was actually reading about another person's, not just daily life, but private life, private workings of the mind, darkest secrets and dees are exposed fully.

I also had a nice long teen-y debate with Hanis on the phone, whether Laguna Beach really is a reality tv show, or a tv show that is portraying a reality tv show style. Despite it being clearly a reality tv show (checked thoroughly online), Hanis and I couldn't really come to terms with complete normal human beings, living their lives out on television, for every single continent with MTV, to watch. This, like certain blogs above, are so eyebrow raising that I can't stop myself from asking myself "Isn't this self exploitation?".

I want to be famous, point taken. I know everyone pretty much wants to be famous somehow, in another way or another, small or big, subtle or loud, but whatever, everyone wants to be known somehow. I want to write, I want to say things people could relate to, I want to philosophise, write out and express the inner workings of my mind; but where should I start? And where should I have the decency to stop?

What is sacred really? I know in this new age, some things are best to not be left sacred, due to increasing confusion and popularity of complicated outcomes due to the first factor. Like sex education, political debate, divinity of such. It is a good thing to express everything that goes on beneath the skull, and break the taboos to bring us closer together.

But when you broadcast yourself to any other tom dick or harry who would just past by your blog, shouldn't there... Be some.. undisclosure?

It's three a.m. now, and I realise I've been spinning the web around, again. My mum is right, I am slowly turning more conservative as I get older.

While my grandmother gets younger by the day. She started using the word poyo before I did.

I am amused.