mostly earnest

Author: Al

  • Infestation

    I saw more rats in the span of half an hour than I had my entire life.

    Big ones. Tiny ones. Mama, papa and all their next of kin.

    Grandma had been co-living with rodents for the past couple of months before her daughters came home to deal with it.

    One night she woke up to something moving on her chest.

    She couldn’t see what it was because it was dark but she flicked whatever it was with the back of her hand and heard a splat on the floor.

    She turned on the light and saw that it was a baby rat.

    My aunt said the rats had been chewing the gas pipes and that it was a miracle the house had not explode especially because grandma uses matches to light the stove.

    We’ve been trying to convince her into a care home but she is steadfast in her decision that it is still not time yet.

    She argues that she is still able to walk but what good are feet if your lungs are constantly breathing in fumes of rat faecal matter.

  • Act Of Resistance

    There was cake, dancing and a lot of alcohol. I had a splitting headache by the end of it (no more tequila for me) but it was truly one of the best nights I’ve had. To be celebrated, accepted, and loved by some of the kindest most giving people I’ve had the pleasure of calling friends is to feel incredibly seen. And what is being seen if not to feel like there is also a place in this world for people like us.

  • Progress

    It’s only been three months.

    But today, for the first time since I started hiking, I trusted the ground where my feet landed.


  • Snide Salad

    As she stretched out to retrieve my plate, the server noticed untouched food in the corner and asked “Why didn’t you finish your vegetables?”

    Caught off guard, I fumbled and said, “I don’t like them,” which was not entirely true. I didn’t like these particular ones but I was too embarrassed to admit it for fear I might offend her.  

    “But you ordered the vegetarian meal,” she replied, feigning horror.

    I’ve never known meat eaters to have the same standards imposed on them. Someone who enjoys chicken may not necessarily be open to pork. It’s hardly news that vegetarians don’t enjoy all vegetables equally. But of course I didn’t say that. Instead I said, “I ordered this dish for the main event, not the sides.” 

    Still unsatisfied, she replied, “Do you know how many people are starving in this world?”

    I felt a synchrony of raised eyebrows around the table, the moment she finished the question. 

    I am aware that millions go to bed hungry. But I am equally aware that the main causes of world hunger are primarily poverty, inequity, and institutional failures. In fact, thanks to centuries of food innovation and agricultural science, the world we live in today is actually capable of feeding every person that lives on the planet. Whether an individual chooses to finish their side salad has no bearing on these facts. 

    If an establishment is concerned about wastage (which is valid) then maybe it would serve to make better, more thoughtful, innovative side salads. Otherwise, it just feels like an excuse to fill the plate. 

    But again, I did not say this. Someone interrupted before I got a chance to respond and I was honestly relieved I didn’t have to deliver Sunday sermon. 

  • Test, Test, One Two Live

    We’ve been looking to move out ever since our housemate got himself a girlfriend. I thought it best we give them some privacy even though it never seemed like they needed it on account of how frequent we HEAR them.

    We decided to test-live at a friend’s place to see if this is where we want to move to next. She doesn’t intend to live in KL anymore and is willing to give up her apartment if we so wanted.

    On the drive in, I passed huge bungalows, some of which looked to me like spaceships. The roads leading to the apartment were narrow and windy. Often times I would be caught off-guard by the dog-walkers and joggers that suddenly appear on my path. Catching their eye, I felt a little like an imposter as if they could tell I didn’t have the social cachet to be in these parts of town.

    But whatever I was feeling before quickly vanished as soon as we arrived. Something about the apartment preexisting the unsavoury luxury around felt like we had historical street cred to be there.

    Our parking spot was narrow but sheltered and close to the building we’re staying at. I climbed three flights of stairs before we reached our friend’s unit. The first thing I noticed was the bright crimson paint on the door. Coloured doors were something I’ve seen only in Europe. When I first arrived in London, I was so enamoured by them, I took photos of these doors and came home with nothing to show for about my trip except a bunch of random stranger’s doors.

    I was immediately taken by the time-stuck of this place. The owner kept most of the original fittings so it felt as if we’ve been transported to a Spanish holiday resort in the 90s. The sink looked out — something you no longer find in modern houses — into a lush, green scape with the city skyline in the distance. I loved the way the light poured in from the kitchen windows illuminating the counters. For a one-bedroom apartment, it felt spacious.

    I took a quick stroll around the rest of the apartment and announced that I was never leaving here.

    It’s my last day here and I am not ready to leave. It’s only been three days but I’ve grown attached. I still haven’t had the opportunity to sit at the balcony to enjoy the morning breeze or take the shortcut to get to the mall next to the building or run around the neighbourhood.

    All I had time for was the pool and even though a bird shat on my head while I was getting ready to go into the water, Nine said it was good luck and probably a sign that something incredible will happen soon. Fingers crossed that it’s calling this place home.

  • Returning To WordPress

    I wanted to restart blogging ever since I came across this post from Ben Werdmuller.

    Admittedly, I started a blog last year but ran out of steam maintaining it. I had used Tumblr before and then WordPress during my late teens but in 2021, I thought I’d go with something a little more trendy and techie, something that gave off vibes like I was up to date with the latest and greatest in the tech world.

    I landed on Ghost. All the top productivity YouTubers (and I mean Ali Abdaal) rated it so I figured that is what I wanted too. It looked simple enough and had a catchy name to boot.

    Turns out, any vibe you wanted to exude can be attained effortlessly if you had the money for it. If not, be prepared to lose sleep figuring out how to upkeep the damn thing yourself.

    Very quickly the technical backend stuff became laborious but mostly it was just frustrating. Any adjustment or update had to be accessed through this black screen program with random words and numbers on it and I had no idea what any of that meant. Typing in the wrong code made my site inaccessible. It was maintenance I wasn’t prepared for and it completely sucked the fun out of blogging so I abandoned it after two months.

    The lesson here is that sometimes the new and shiny thing might get you a seat at the cool kids table but it always comes with a hefty price. Sticking with something that is known to work for decades even if a little dated in the game will save me a ton in head aches. That is why, after nearly two decades, I am back at WordPress.