The Sense of Belonging

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Allow me to begin the post with a picture of a very gorgeous model I saw on Victoria's Secret Fashion Show 2011, Sui He. She's Chinese by nationality, she's young, she's hot, she's cute and yes, she models lingerie.

And I am not a lesbian. And I don't watch porn. Didn't really

know why I said that... Just think that I should...

In a totally unrelated note, I can't seem to understand why people are becoming more and more racist day by day. Educational awareness seem to provide for no effect at all.

You see, I was born a person. Without my realization, I was placed into groups the moment I was born. I am of the female species, a Muslim by faith, a daughter in a conventional middle class family and a Malay.

You see, I was a kid. My brain is functioning but not my thought. So it was entirely justifiable for a child like me to be foolish and narrow-minded and completely ignorant of other people's situation most of the time. Hell, why was I supposed to care? My parents would take care of everything.

But there is a certain point in life where our ignorance may not serve any purpose in life except for limiting our options to fully enjoy life and love.

How? Well, when you regard someone to be similar to you just because he or she supposedly shares your ethnicity or whatever legal category of people stated in your identification cards - then that is a problem in itself.

One question could certainly be raised from that - so one person is more deserving than the other just because he comes from the more 'needy race'?

I mean, is that how it works?

Yup, I guess that's it.

What a wonderful situation we are in, aren't we?

You see, we are sooo afraid of being taken over. What will happen if the other ethnic rose to power? So are we going to be expelled and live like a discriminated race during the Holocaust days?

But wait - how did I get into the 'we' in the first place? Hmm... how did you? And you?

Man, come to think of it, who decides what ethnic are you supposed to belong?

Is it the colour of your skin? Or blood? Or decisions of your parents? Or the language you speak? Or the shape of your eyes? And your level of libido?

Well, I guess such factors count. So I have dark brown eyes, blood like any other blood, generous yet talkative and very highly opiniated parents, I speak Malay and English and very limited French and aspire to learn Hindi and Urdu, I have slantic eyes and a confusingly unstable level of libido.

And that makes me a Malay.

Something does not seem quite right. But anyway... oh look, here's my identification card. Yup, I'm right. It is stated there... I am a Malay. So I must think of the interest of my race. And the need for their survival.

I mean, I am quite lucky to have my race clearly defined. Both of my parents belong to the same ethnic. But wait, those mixed kids must have it tough... If you were born with a Chinese father and an Indian mother, which race are you supposed to belong to? Or an Indian father and Melanau mother? Or better yet, if one can dream, a totally sexy Spanish father and a Malay mother?

Man, these kids must have been confused.

Or lucky.

At least they get to decide.

On a positive note, at least I will have the freedom one day to choose how I shall lead my life. Should I supposedly defend something that is non-existent or live life as a mere insignificant-save-to-myself humane being void of any sense of belonging unless she finds and chooses any.

Get what I mean? Nope?

Then I suggest you go watch the oh-so-amazing Victoria's Secret Fashion Show 2011. Not that it serves you any academical advantages but it does visually release your stress - which is a worthwhile thing to do rather than talking politics and racisms which never seem to cease. Miranda Kerr after giving birth is as HOT as ever! Guess that is the side effects of giving birth to baby Orlando Bloom. If that is not cute+hot at the same time, then I don't know what is...

Ruby Jusoh has lots to do. Assignments and all. She's a bit anxious but not to worried. And her new wallpaper shall be changed to some hot new Spanish male model introduced by her good friend, Palah. 

Welcome to my life, Jon Kortajarena