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In Your Dreams

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When Survival Feels Like a Luxury: Housing, Work, and Censorship in Malaysia It can never be a first world country. Owning a home is often painted as the pinnacle of stability. Yet for many Malaysians, the dream collapses under the weight of reality. How can someone without a job even begin to think about buying a house? Banks demand proof of income, developers chase profit margins, and the system leaves the unemployed or underemployed stranded outside the gates of ownership. Survival itself becomes a luxury. The Housing Paradox Employment as a gatekeeper : Without payslips, loans are impossible. Rising costs : Property prices climb faster than wages, leaving even the employed struggling. Schemes that miss the mark : Affordable housing programs exist, but eligibility criteria often exclude those most in need. Anger at the Nation It’s easy to lash out and call Malaysia “dumb” or “trashy.” But the truth is more complex. This country is not garbage—it is a place of contradictions...

Jodoh Pakai App?

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Jodoh pakai app? No fucking way. I am not interested. The first relationship and the longest I had was when I met the person physically. No app. No game. There is absolutely no chance that we will be making Adam and Eve. Finding through an app. To meet the criteria? So what happens when you have all the criteria, but when you meet, it's not the right person? No fucking way. If I want to find someone, I'll go and find them myself. If I'm not actively seeking a relationship, I won't pursue it.  If I am just thirsty for RP, that's not the relationship I wanted. I just wanted to blow off some steam. I still choose to be with myself. Don't push me to find one to prove I am not a lesbian. Fuck off. I have been in a relationship physically and emotionally with a manchild for 13 long years . And the end is also a calculated move to make me believe all this relationship building is engineered. Leave me the fuck alone? I just want to be with myself for now. Why? Everythin...

Gaslit: The Coward’s Move

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Gaslit: The Coward’s Move These days, too many couples cheat—subtly. Their defense mechanisms sound like: “She’s my coworker.” “She’s my work wife.” “She’s my friend’s best friend.” “She’s like a little sister.” Truth be told? Fuck all of that. Let me shed light on my experience. Women carry a massive burden placed on them by men. Yes—men. For centuries, men have molded women because they’ve held power. They’ve dictated how women should dress, behave, and care for themselves. Who dominates the fashion industry now? Men. Men. Men. They’ve shaped the image of women for generations. Fairytales? Always the prince saving the princess. Never the princess walking out on her own. That narrative only started shifting recently. Women are becoming more independent, no longer reliant on men. But housewives and tai tai still do. They wage war on their husbands when they discover cheating or mistresses—because he’s the provider. This is my personal experience of being accused of bei...

Zero Interest

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Zero Interest Why I Refuse to Be a Teacher I have zero interest in becoming a teacher. I know that’s what my parents want—but I’ve fought hard against their wishes. If I could redo my life all over again, the answer would still be a hard no. Not everyone wants to be a teacher. Not everyone deserves to be one. My parents used to say: “Kerja senang. Balik rumah cepat pukul 2 petang. Kalau kena stay back pun sampai pukul 4. Jarang balik lambat kalau kerja dekat sekolah awam. Akak suka jaga budak. Budak pun suka dengan akak. Ni kerja senang.”   And my answer was always: “No.” I’ve seen firsthand how some teachers take the easy way out—choosing the profession not out of passion, but convenience. I was a student once, and I remember a teacher who got pregnant almost every year. She was rarely in class. We had to rely heavily on tuition centers to fill the gap. But the methods taught there didn’t align with the school’s syllabus. One example sticks with me: “This mathematica...

Gangsters in Robes

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Gangsters in Robes: A Reflection on Religious Enforcement in Malaysia NSFW 18+ Disclaimer This post contains real stories involving violence, sexual content, and systemic critique. Do not republish or steal without permission. If you want to understand it, talk to me directly. Let’s Be Real Violence, gore, sexual content—whatever the genre, 18+ material is everywhere. What’s not normal is when young people fall deep into that rabbit hole without guidance. But let’s be honest: in my area, many 16-year-olds are already sexually active. I won’t name names, but it’s happening—even among Muslims. So, is it the religious authorities’ job to interfere? I’m not sure. Should we be paying religious officers to police morality, or should we cut that out entirely and focus on educating youth about the pros and cons of being sexually active at a young age? Personally, I’d choose education. My hard-earned tax money goes to religious officers who arrest people for khalwat—cases that have noth...

Catfish

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Catfish You know, I actually met them in real life—I just can’t remember exactly when. It was at Sunway Pyramid. But I met both of the girls I wronged during an event. Of course I did, considering everything that happened. I never meant to hurt anyone. I just wanted to play couple dance in the game. It was AuditionSEA. It just so happened that the server had way more girls than guys, so I slotted myself in as the guy. Can’t really blame me if they ended up liking me. I think everyone knew I was catfishing them. Even the person who played with me in FAM knew I definitely wasn’t a guy. I was using my friend’s account, not mine—because my account was female. Most of the active players back then were on male accounts, so I played on that one instead. My friend who gave me her account didn’t know how to play the game anyway. Oh man, don’t get me started on when I played using the male account. I was super competitive. I wanted a team, a partner for competitions. I was young! Haha. Esports w...

Not Rich

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Not Rich What does it mean to be rich? A person might have RM500 in their bank account and still claim they’re rich. But someone earning 100 times more might scoff at that idea. So, who’s right? Today, I want to share a story—two couples living in parallel worlds. One believes being rich means having more money. The other believes being rich means being grateful for whatever they have. The first couple measures wealth by financial abundance. They pray five times a day, sometimes more. Their relationship with God is strong, and their prayers are consistent. But they don’t ask for “more money.” Instead, they say, “Murahkan lagi rezeki” —may our sustenance be plentiful. Is this a sensitive topic because it touches on religion? Perhaps. But bear with me. This couple prays day in and day out, never missing a moment. And for some divine reason, their prayers are answered. Rezeki flows in: tickets to cold countries, holidays on sandy beaches, performance bonuses. Their social media glo...

Student Loan

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Student Loan My heart broke in two when my parents enrolled me in a course I never wanted to be part of. They claimed there weren’t many teachers in the field and that it was a noble profession. They listed all the benefits, but I argued with them—I simply didn’t want it. That course became my first loan. At 19, I took on RM20,000 in debt for a diploma (give or take, after interest). I had to pay it all back. They signed me up because I had failed miserably in my SPM. (That’s another story I might share someday.) After completing my bachelor’s degree, I worked every day to repay the loan. I never missed a payment. My parents reminded me every month to pay it. A few years in—I can’t remember exactly when—I learned that if you don’t pay your loan, you’ll be barred from traveling overseas. This is the real story I’m sharing with you now.  Like I said, I paid my loan every month once I had full-time employment. But some of my close friends didn’t pay theirs at all. They had full-time j...

Hall of Fame

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Hall of Fame School Bullies Who says bullying only comes from verbal or physical abuse? Alienation is another form. These days, the younger generation has embraced freedom of expression —but sometimes, that freedom is weaponized. Bullying now hides behind artistic forms: poetry, blogs, music, even performance. Let me share three stories where the system is already crumbling and rotting, yet someone still insists on playing the role of ‘the hero' even though they are not one. First story: TW: Physical Abuse I wrote about this in my previous blog post—how I didn’t look like the typical Malay girl in a Malay-dominant school, especially without a headscarf. Back then, my classmates—mostly male students—bullied me physically. They spat on my face when I entered the classroom. They threw stones at my eyes using a makeshift twig slingshot they crafted after PE class. They stole my books and stationery. I was only eight years old at the time. I kept my mouth shut most of the time. I never...

Racist Teacher - Child Abuse

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Racist Teacher - Child Abuse TW: Child Abuse I don't have any fond memories of my time in Kepong—especially because of how I looked without my headscarf. I remember, during my primary school days, I was subjected to racism by several teachers simply because I looked like a Chinese girl. They would say things like, "She can't write Malay, speak Malay, or read Malay. She can only communicate in English. But she has a Muslim name." One teacher would slap me, make me crawl around the classroom for 20 laps, and twist my ear until it bled because I have ear piercing then—in front of 30 students—simply because I was a slow learner when it came to the Malay language. I was only eight years old and had no knowledge of how to communicate in Malay. My mother had to come to the school and confront the teacher, explaining who I was and who I belonged to. She told them I had Malay parents—not mixed Malay-Chinese heritage. After that, the treatment changed—but the damage had already...

Tudung

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Tudung A controversial take, but for me: Why must students be forced to wear the headscarf in school? I grew up in an environment where wearing one was mandatory. Are we even in a public school system, or is this a religious institution in disguise? Why must a Muslim student be compelled to wear it when, in her heart, she doesn’t want to? The contradiction is glaring. Girls wear the tudung in school because it’s required, but when they’re out with friends, they remove it. What’s the purpose of wearing it in school, anyway? What’s the learning curve I’m failing to grasp? Teachers in primary and secondary schools often view female students as objects—fresh meat. Because of this, I’m trapped in an outdated system built on “takut malu”—the fear of shame—instilled by Asian Muslim parents. “Kak, jangan cabut tudung bila kat luar. Malu, mama abah.” The pressure to wear it everywhere is suffocating. The idea of free will is stripped away because a group of people refuses to see female students...

My edgy days are behind me.

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My edgy days are behind me. I used to be that keyboard warrior girl. Thank God Facebook was kind enough not to ban or shadow-ban most of my comments. I’m not sure if that was my rebellious phase or something else entirely—but I’m definitely not proud of it. I could trash-talk online for fun, diving into topics others might find offensive. I didn’t just enjoy the pushback—I lived for it. I wanted it. When someone got triggered, my heart would leap: Ah, an innocent lamb has wandered into the wolves’ den. I’d sharpen my knives—figuratively—and prepare for the ritual. The worst part? I’d invite more lambs into the den, just to join the fun. Truth be told, we were all enjoying ourselves. Triggering one another, yes—but always within a strange kind of peace. We agreed to disagree. And I won’t lie: seeing their point of view was often hilarious. None of us were bullies—we were thought provokers. It was a peaceful community, just not everyone’s cup of tea. If you’re highly sensitive, don’t go ...

50 good questions to ask yourself and others

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  50 good questions to ask yourself and others 1. What are your nicknames? What do you prefer to be called? Lin. 2. What books on your shelf are begging to be read? Some psychology books. 3. How often do you doodle? What do your doodles look like? I hate to doodle.  4. What do you do if you can’t sleep at night? Do you count sheep? Toss and Turn? Try to get up and do something productive? I watch videos. 5. How many days could you last in solitary confinement? How would you do it? Huh? 6. Do you save old greeting cards and letters? Throw them away? I still have them. 7. Who is the biggest pack rat you know? I don't know. 8. When making an entrance in to a party, do you make your presence known? Do you slip in and look for someone you know? Do you sneak in quietly and find a safe spot to roost? I sneak in quietly. 9. What is your strongest sense? If you had to give one up, which would it be? I just don't care at all. 10. How many times a day do you look at yourself in the mirro...