Hazim's Blogs

 

[BLOG ENTRY 010] looking down on rhyme


February 19, 2011

Looking Down On Rhyme

There is such a thing as rhyming prose you know…I ‘hang around’ quite a bit at AllPoetry, the ‘networking’ site for poets, and it seems to me that the higher tiers are reserved for those who can pen prose-prose that doesn’t rhyme. It could be free verse. I could be prose poetry. I just get this sense that a clump of poets assume rhyming makes you take things less seriously. While that may be true in some aspects, as a whole, I disagree with the notion rhyme is easy and for beginners.

People still debate on how to classify prose, poetry, and prose poetry, but in my mind, there’s rhyme and there isn’t. I don’t look down on either, although my preference is to rhymes, not because it’s easier to crank out stanzas that rhyme, but because it’s a challenge to convey emotion through rhyme without lapsing into cliché and cheesiness. It’s more rewarding for me personally. Prose. Poetry. Prose poetry.

Still confused? Prose, whether it’s emotive or not is basically a paragraph or more written as if you were writing an essay. Sometimes, people break it down into short disjointed lines and slap the free verse poetry label on. This in actually is not poetry, but treated up prose.

Poetry has meter, which means it’s got a repeated rhythm. It doesn’t have to always rhyme, but some people like me prefer it to. Rhyming poetry doesn’t always fit in with free verse, which is where a lot of prose writers usually try to put the free verse label on. Prose can be converted and shaped into free verse, if the meter is adjusted correctly, and the language is suitable for it to be altered.

I am trying to conjure up an argument to counter those who think rhyme is ruin and most things sound better as free verse, but my mind is surfacing with blanks actually. Maybe it’s just a matter of personal preference.

Here:

Delia began to yank at the handle, and yet the heavy suitcase, once upon a time back then Papa’s, had no intention of budging, its old bulky contents strapping her to the airport entrance, rooting her to the spot.
 She sniffled slightly. Her hefty baggage would not allow her to move forward. The flight departure screen flashed before her tauntingly as her composure began to melt in a puddle of panic and nervous beads of sweat.

And here:

Delia tugged and tugged at her suitcase
Amidst the jostling crowd
Who pushed past her dilapidated place
Where she yelled aloud

‘Oh fuck it! I’m going to be late for my flight
Why now? Why me?’
Her bag would not budge, to the left to the right
Her baggage wouldn’t allow her to leave.

And here:

A n exasperated girl
Delia
gripped that handle and poured in all her strength
and that stupid heavy bad
remained immobile
and stubborn
and still stupid
Faceless passers-by scurry along
Oblivious
to the mess of tears and sweat
gritting her teeth
as she misses her flight.

It’s not my best, but anyways, the first one is prose. The second is a rhyming timing poem and the third is free verse poetry, all about poor Delia not being able to carry her bag heavy in time to catch her flight. I prefer the second one, because to me, since rhymes are known for being whimsical, hitting like a bludgeon and caressing at the same time is something I find enjoyable with rhyme. So much of free verse nowadays reads like paragraphs, so the differentiating line becomes blurrier.

HERE’S AN INTERESTING TAKE: Click here

AND AS A WRITER, I FOUND THIS USEFUL : Click here

As traditional as it may be, I adore rhyme and will not give it up. Most of my poetry is in rhyme and though I love other styles and forms as well (because I believe writing knows no boundaries), rhyme will always be my best friend. And to those people who say rhyme is childish, simple, and has less impact than free verse or rhyme-less prose, you must hate Lewis Carroll or something and that doesn’t sit well in my book. In the end, the rhyme-haters will always look down on rhyme and the rhyme lovers will always resort to rhyming ‘lady’ with ‘shady’. It doesn’t matter. I’m just ranting. And at the same time, exploring different facets of the poetry world which I love so much, but know so little about. And Dr. Seuss is deeper than you think!

-Hazim Haemoglobin-

  MOOD: hop on pop

TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, rhyme, prose, poetry, exercising my thoughts

[PICTURE FROM: Click here


[BLOG ENTRY 009] capsized by contemplation

February 15, 2011

capsized by contemplation

Sir Ernest Shackleton once said “Superhuman effort isn’t worth a damn unless it achieves results”

My mother once scolded me for only getting second place academically in the class (Math is a subject I’ll never excel at).

These two things ring in my mind as I sit in front of my laptop trying to construct a plausible blog entry. Contemplating..contemplating…

A few months ago, I was faced with a big decision which led me to defer my final semester of my HND in Business Studies (a course that invokes only the most lackluster of emotions from me when I think about it) so that I could finish with a decent enough CGPA to fly over to the UK and further my studies.

My final semester will be starting in March. I’m very anxious to finish even before I start. I’m a very inconsistent student who either flies through the subject with great marks or sinks and drowns beneath waves and waves of terrible grades. I guess it depends on the subject? I guess I can’t tell if I’m studying for my mother or for myself? We can’t all have what we want, but it’s hard to put in ‘superhuman effort’ when you’re as passionate about the subjects as Paris Hilton is about slums.

Sorry Shackleton.

I work in two extremes. My best friend Dayana knows I don’t have a middle ground. My normal mode exists at two polar ends. I either pour in everything I’ve got because my gut feeling is that the outcome will be great and satisfactory…or I shuffle and plod along when it doesn’t follow my vision. To simplify-I HAVE to get my way, I work hard when my gut tells me I’m going to get it. I flop when it tells me the prospects are poor.

It’s a terrible trait to have. It is what it is. I’m always optimistic at the start of a project. As soon as it hits a rigid bump, I start to lose faith.

That’s why I’m so inconsistent in my studies, unless of course, I’m really dumb, which is still a possibility. It’s why my book publication is trudging through 6 feet of doubt. It’s why I’ll never please my mother because in my mind, I can’t commit ‘superhuman effort’ if I don’t feel like it’s going to pay off, and if I can’t do that, of course I’ll never know. Which brings me to my doubts as to what’s ahead for me in the future, the very near future.

My mother has a tendency to change her mind at the very last minute. To quote my sister, she’s ‘very volatile’ with her children’s emotions. Her plans to send me to the UK could hit a brick wall even if I’m at the airport, waiting for my flight. She tells me to be independent and make my own decisions and yet tells me not to interfere with her plans for my future…I am quite confused and stressed. She could be sending me to Syria for all I know. Or enrolling me in the army. I don’t know!

When Citibank offered me a 6 month contract, I was so excited I had a chance at breaking away from my mother’s control, but the fights and outrageous flaring of verbal insults (followed by a religious sermon) from my mother has kinda left me very drained. She didn’t want me to sign it. She wants me to work hard, and put in ‘superhuman effort’ without knowing what are the possible outcomes. It’s like running as fast as you can in the dark. Blind faith doesn’t appeal to me…you’re gonna hit something and it’s gonna hurt.

Shackleton is still right.

I can’t figure out the direction of this blog entry, but I guess what I’m trying to convey is my frustration at not knowing what’s ahead while simultaneously not being able to make your own decisions so that I know what cards are still on the table. It’s why I’m so fond of this website. My mother isn’t involved. I have at least this card to hold onto.

I don’t have much faith in my future right now. Not knowing what’s possible and what’s not shades my practical side. I’ll still be putting a lot of effort in, but my exasperation with my mother’s constant twists and turns in mood and decisions, holds me back quite a bit. So, when the new semester begins in two weeks, I know that “superhuman effort isn’t worth a damn thing unless it achieves results” and I know that I have no idea what results are possible because I’m not allowed to move any chess pieces without my mother’s consent. I feel trapped. I’ve been capsized by contemplation.

-Hazim Haemoglobin-

MOOD: a muddled puddle TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, future, my mother, shackleton, confusion

[BLOG ENTRY 008]

mind fucking my insecurities
February 14, 2011

Hazim Blog8_1

Here’s how things go down every morning. I wake up. I rub my eyes. I yawn. I hobble over to the bathroom sink. I stare at the bathroom mirror. And then I cringe and look away. Sometimes I might even cover my own reflection with a piece of cloth or a towel. If I don’t, then there’s always that chance I’ll start picking apart at my face and my body. I think it’s normal though, right? To acknowledge your imperfections over and over again?

Well…I think Valentines should be more than just about loving your boyfriend and/or girlfriend. You should freakin’ love yourself! It’s really hard to do if you’re not Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie or Alex Pettyfer or Jennifer Lopez or Blake Lively or Tyra Banks or…you get it? Most of the world population don’t have access to top class trainers and the moolah to forge out to hack away that belly fat and salvage what’s left of your jawline.

My aim for this blog entry is a selfish one. I’ll pick apart the things I despise about myself, and I’ll attempt to either find a way to fix it to a standard I can be satisfied with or I’ll just settle for a little positive side to it. I use comparisons and examples of celebrities because the general consensus is that they are perfect and well..they’re not. But it doesn’t make them, and you and I, any less beautiful. Grab your mirror and your thick skin and follow me!

My Dark Complexion

In a world where the white man reigns supreme, it’s hard enough trying to feel like you’re on par with them when you’re Asian, but when you’re slightly darker than the average Malay, it just feels like you’re always gonna be flailing in the lower tiers. Almost every single day of my school life in Malaysia, I was called ‘Nigger’, or ‘Negro’, ‘Black’ or something similar by other boys. I wasn’t the darkest by any means-there were dark skinned Indians-but I was a dark skinned Malay in a sea of tan Malay boys. Coupled with the fact I had to walk 30 minutes in the hot sun and/or pouring rain 5-6 days a week, living in my skin was the equivalent f having a KICK ME sign taped to your back.

MIND FUCK THIS INSECURITY: Take a look at this

:Shemar Moore

Yes, he’s got a ton of muscle, but he is a beautiful dark skinned man and there are shitloads of dark skinned beauties out there. Iman. MIA (Maya Arulpragasam). Keri Hilson. Rihanna. That Indian guy from Heroes. Maybe it’s part of the Malaysian mindset that dark is not beautiful? I do admit that the Islamic holy book portrays white skinned women as the ideal ‘beautiful’.

I’m not as dark as Iman or Shemar Moore but they are gorgeous and beautiful and inspire me. Being dark isn’t a bane to my existence if I can maintain a smooth and healthy looking complexion, without altering the color. I did use to think I’d need to bleach my skin or get melamine injections. Sunblock before you leave the house. Use umbrellas and hats. Moisturize. Exfoliate. And eat healthy. It sounds like something I got from Oprah, and it might be. The point is, dark skin can be beautiful. You do have to work extra hard to make it look good, but when you do, you’ll be reveling in your own chocolate love.

MINDFUCK IT. [http://www.goherbalremedies.com/blog/how-to-take-care-of-dark-complexion]

I am So Short

At 164 centimeters, or a little over 5 feet, I only need to be Irish to be a leprechaun (I already wear loads of green). I’m even too short to be an air steward. Not that I want to be, but still…it’d be nice to have that option available. I’ll always come across as a little boy to people who don’t know me. Adik. Adik. Adddddiiiikkkkk…that means ‘little brother/sister’ in Malay. It also means that being straight, girls will treat me like a sibling and being gay, I’d always be the ‘submissive’ one.

MINDFUCK THIS INSECURITY: Take a look at this:

Elijah Wood

Elijah Wood. Is hot. He is also short ladies and gentlemen. So are Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen. And Eva Longoria. True, guys have it harder being short than girls but don’t you think Mr. Wood still gets his ‘wood’ on, maybe more than a lot of his taller Lord of the Ring costars?

Height is something you can’t really alter, although I think there is a painful sounding surgical procedure you can go through that involves your spinal chord…ouch. There are lots of ways to make yourself look taller. Don’t go overboard on prints. Wear vertical stripes. Girls have heels and even guys can wear those elevating giraffe shoes which are becoming a little fad 9there is a store for giraffe shoes in Berjaya Times Square). Posture is key. I used to to walk hunchbacked, so people thought I was shorter than the short I already was. Shorties can be sexy too!

MINDFUCK IT. [http://www.gainheight.com/look-taller.html]

I Hate My Bulbous Nose

A lot of Asians and Africans and South Americans are born with bulbous noses. Round and rotund. A nose job isn’t always an option. My own nose looks straight when I don’t smile, but as soon as I stretch my mouth for a grin, it becomes a silly putty homage to Mr. Potato.

MINDUFCK THIS INSECURITY: Take a look at this.

Rhianna

Yes. Rihanna’s nose isn’t the most bulbous, but it defies what we expect to think of when we think of attractive noses. And don’t deny it. Rihanna is sexy.

A nose job? Don’t. Unless you have done all the research possible and you’re willing to accept the consequences, as well as shoving out money for the operation and the maintenance. Then just love your nose. Take care of the skin on it. Keep the boogers out. There are some exercises you can do involving the bridge of your nose and your fingers that can narrow it slightly, and there’s always that injection I saw on Rachel Ray where they inject the bridge and the effects stay for several months. Hey, we can’t all be born with slender long noses. But don’t pull a Rudolph and make your nose the center of attention then. Make it work for your face. Make up for girls. Exercises for the rest. Start massaging your bridge today! Haha.

MINDFUCK IT. [http://www.wikihow.com/Slim-the-Nose]

Jawline

A defined jawline and a healthy hairline are signs of youth. We haven’t found the fountain of youth yet, so we can’t avoid the eventual fading of the jawline and hairlines. There are ways to delay the process and tricks to cover it up. I used to like my jawline, but I have been losing it slightly, the sharp edges becoming blunt. I often get into panic mode when I think and worry about how my jaw will look at 30 years old at this rate.

MINDUFCK THIS INSECURITY: Take a look at this.

DiCaprio

Yes, yes. Some hot celebrities don’t have jawlines or are losing them with age and some don’t have hair or much of it. There are facial exercises you can do for your jaw to shake off that double chin. Suck in your cheeks. Stretch out that tongue. They work if you’re persistent. It’s about dedication. And even if it does disappear and fade out, I guess it wouldn’t be the end of the world. How much you want that jawline back drives how much you’ll work for it. As for the hairline? There’s always Yun Nam Haircare. It works.

MINDFUCK IT. [http://www.ehow.com/way_5375104_face-exercises-sharpen-jawline.html]

I Hate My Body

Are you fat? Are you too skinny? Do you hate David Beckham, Megan Fox, and Ryan Reynolds because of those abs, that butt, those thighs, those pecs and so on? I do. I used to be quite muscular but I have been losing weight, major MAJOR weight to the point my arms are quite skinny. I have been eating irregularly and the food I eat is packed with salt and preservatives. Sooo..the solution is simple right?

MINDFUCK THIS INSECURITY: Take a look at this.

JHudson

Jennifer Hudson! You go, gorgeous girl! How stunning does she look? And it’s not through surgery either. There is a difference between obese and just having extra fat. There is a difference between being anorexic and just being on the skinny side. Check your BMI. Exercise goes a long way. And you don’t need a gym to do it. Jog or do something athletic and strenuous at least twice a week to hike up your metabolism rate slightly. Eat your breakfast. Don’t skip, but eat light dinners. Get enough sleep. Seriously, this has many solutions. People are just picky and they want everything fast. Click fingers. Ta-da…get off that sofa. Stop watching The Biggest Loser and join me for 3 laps at the very least. Fat or skinny. We want tone because it’s hot!

MINDFUCK IT. [http://www.xomba.com/how_tone_your_body_two_weeks]

There you go. There are more insecurities of course, and he ones I listed are the physical ones. But I will admit that when your physical side looks good, it definitely lifts your spirits and confidence up in ways even the happiest Glee episode can’t. We’re not robots. I’m not perfect and so aren’t you…unless Brad Pitt, are you reading this?

Appreciate Yourself

-Hazim Haemoglobin-

MOOD: on the way to loving myself!

TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, insecurities, loving yourself, celebrities

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Happy Valentines Day! February 14, 2011

Hazim Blog7

Martyn Wilson, the designer of this website, and I, Hazim Haemoglobin, would like to wish everyone a HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!!! Love your boyfriend, girlfriend, husband, wife, exwife..scratch that…friends, family members, and most importantly..LOVE YOUR BEAUTIFUL SELVES!!!!

-Hazim Haemoglobin-
MOOD: lovely
TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, insecurities, loving yourself, celebrities
COMMENTS: [0] comments

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6 Mistakes I Make On The First Date!

February 9, 2011

6 Mistakes

Valentines Day is coming. And with it comes a slew of different reactions. You hate it because you think it’s overrated. You love it because it gives you an excuse to display some PDA. You hate it because you don’t like sitting in a restaurant in a sea of madly in love couples. You just don’t care. You’re one of these. I know it!!!!


Me? I am sadly so insecure I am scrambling to make sure I’m not single on that day. It is pathetic really. Watch this space though because I might have to get my hands dirty post V Day. I really despise the ‘relationship’ I am in right now.

Anyhow, I thought it’d be neat to do this little blog entry about the mistakes I often make on the first date. Whether you’re a girl or a guy, you can’t go to me for dating do’s because I’m really terrible at getting things right. I CAN however tell you what you SHOULDN’T DO on your first date. This is all based on experience! I am the shortest dorkiest date you’ll ever encounter if you date me! And I make plenty of mistakes on the first date which prevent me from making it to second base. Soooo….don’t do what I have done and commit these grave errors when you’re on the date! Unless of course, you have no desire to go on a second date, then be my guest and take these DONTs as Dos.

These are mistakes I have made, so I guess the title of this entry should be changed. Whatever. It sounds better as it is. HA!

ONE. I BRING MY LAPTOP ON A DATE

Ooh yes. I go everywhere with my laptop. I have this fear of boredom you see. And if I’m bored, then I might as well use the time to get some work done right? Or listen to music? Or just annoy the fuck out of my date. I apologize to my dates who had to deal with the sound of keyboard pounding while they were trying to tell me how their last ex broke their heart and blah blah blah…no date likes to play second fiddle to your Compaq/HP/Acer/or whatever.

TWO. I SAY YES AND YES AND YES AND…

I can’t say no. it’s a big problem. If a 3 headed pig in a skirt walked up to me and asked me out…I’d say yes. Come to think of it, I have engaged myself in a date with a 3 headed pig…hooray for metaphors. Go back to my place? Yes. Do you want a back rub? Yes. Do you love me? Yes. On the first date? Yikes. Learn to say no, Hazim! Lesson: don’t say yes just to please people, to get the reaction you want. If you say yes to everything, you’re not saving anything for later. You’re being too easy. To quote a song by Rilo Kiley, “first comes the touching, and the touching leads to sex. And then…there is no mystery left.” You don’t want your date feeling like he/she got all there is to get on that first outing. Trust me!

THREE. I CHEW GUM

It doesn’t seem so major right? Imagine your date leaning over to lock lips and you’re busy gnawing on a Wriggley…yeah….

FOUR. I WEAR MY RAINBOW COLORED KNEE LENGTH SOCKS

Be yourself. But don’t be ALL of yourself on the first date…especially if you’re weird like me. It just scares them away. Learn to blanket some restraint. Don’t fake. Just hold some of that wildness inside for at least the first few dates. Reveal more and more of your (positive) true self as you go along (if it happens to develop into one) the relationship. Rainbow socks and pixilated trench coats can stay in your closet for the first date.


FIVE. I TALK WAYYYYYYY TOO MUCH

Bla blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah….that’s all he/she is gonna hear. I think I’m the kind of person who can talk somebody to death. Haha.

SIX: I ORDER A DRUMSTICK AND TRY TO EAT IT WITH A BUTTER KNIFE

I am terrible at using forks, spoons, and knives. When that piece of sauce covered meat bounced off my white shirt and settled into my lap, I knew there wouldn’t be a second base.

-Hazim Haemoglobin-

MOOD: dateable

TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, dating, first date, dos and don’ts, rainbow socks

COMMENTS: [0] comments


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Haemoglobin Eats: 7 Spice
February 8, 2011
SpiceSo today, I went fabric hunting with my cousin for material for Hari Raya festival celebrations later this year. Is it too early to go looking? There’s no time like the present. Good luck hunting for ‘baju raya’ last minute buggers! Haha. So we ate at this place I’ve eaten 3 times before. It’s called 7 Spice.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE INDIAN FOOD…but it is SOOOOO SOOO VERY FATTENING!!!!

…and 7 Spice has the best Indian cuisine in Johor Bahru. It’s located at Danga Street in that whole Danga Bay area. It is (thank god) air conditioned. The toilet is clean! The place smells nice. They play nice but not distracting Indian music. Aaaannnd..the food?


I SAVED THE FREAKIN RECEIPT!
And it reads:

Tbl : 10        2 pax
----------------------
2.0 Set Lunch Meal—bry   34.00
Sub Total                               34.00
Total: $ 34.00

Two set lunch meals for RM (don’t mind the dollar sign) 34? Is that pricey? RM17 for a lunch? Well, let me tell you what you get…

Meal

A heap of expertly cooked Briyani rice with a bowl of papadoms. Then you have your choice of chicken or lamb to go along with it. You can decide whether you want it spicy or not. You have the amazing potatoes, moist and soaked in heavenly spices Indian traditionalists are known for. Then you have the curry, which is quite spicy. Everything meshes so well together in my mouth, my taste buds had an orgasm on the first bite. The kasmiri naan bread is priced at a reasonable RM3. The forthy juice drinks available compliment the heavy meals you will be eating if you eat there.

It is RM3 per bowl of Briyani rice. Very very very reasonable. I would eat there every single day if I could! The workers are really nice. It makes a difference when they thank you for coming on your way out. It’s not as spicy as one would expect Indian cuisine to be though. With some dishes, you get the craving for Nando’s Peri-peri sauce. Regardless, you can request for your dish to be extra spicy. I am on my way to becoming a regular at 7 Spice!

RATING IN Hs OUT OF 5: HHHH 

Check out the website: Click here

-Hazim Haemoglobin-

MOOD: Papadoms and naan!

TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, 7 Spice, restaurant review, Indian food, naan, masala, briyani, Danga

COMMENTS: [0] comments

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Meet Florian the speckled padloper tortoise!
February 8, 2011

FlorianAt the top right corner of this website, you will find Florian. It was hard to pinpoint what species of tortoise he was, but I have decided he is a speckled padloper tortoise. Why is he there, you may ask? Because this website was based on a template which had a gardening hat in the very place Florian is now. Martyn wanted to put two tortoises humping each other but it wouldn’t fit. Florian represents this website better than the hat, I think. Better than anything I could come up with (the best I conjured were two Hs for Hazim Haemoglobin..lame right?)


He starts off slow but he’s smart. He’ll outpace the hare in the end, of course. He’s gonna be the site mascot! Isn’t that freakin’ cool? The other cool thing is that because of Martyn’s decision to put up that tortoise, I have now been enlightened with many many facts on tortoises and the many many differences between a TORTOISE and a TURTLE.


TO FIND OUT IF YOU’RE DORKY LIKE ME!: Click Here

Soooo…you’ll be seeing more of Florian. Know why? I’m actually planning on getting a tortoise now! And I’m gonna name him Florian of course! Why florian? Check my favorite artist’s full name. Dido. Go. Check NOW. Google awaits.
By the way, his full name is…FLORIAN MARTYN HAEMOGLOBIN!!! And he’s better than all of us! Well, he’s better than a gardening hat, at least.

-Hazim Haemoglobin-

MOOD: slow but hopeful

TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, Florian, Martyn Wilson, tortoise, turtle, mascot

COMMENTS: [0] comments

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In honor of David Ignatow…The Bagel February 7, 2011

David IgnatowDavid Ignatow is a poet. He was born on this day (the 7th of February) in 1914, and his works are known to have humor a prominent component. He’s not extremely famous or anything, but if you compare his work to other pieces from his era, you’d be hard pressed to figure out why. This is my favorite piece of his. It reminds me how adults can occasionally lapse into feeling like a child “…and strangely happy with myself…” If I could have the power to inject my insight with wry humor the way he used to, I’d be a very happy man.

Find out more about him: Click here

The Bagel
By David Ignatow
I stopped to pick up the bagel
rolling away in the wind,
annoyed with myself
for having dropped it
as if it were a portent.
Faster and faster it rolled,
with me running after it
bent low, gritting my teeth,
and I found myself doubled over
and rolling down the street
head over heels, one complete somersault
after another like a bagel
and strangely happy with myself.

-Hazim Haemoglobin-
MOOD: craving a bagel
TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, david ignatow, bagel, poetry, feeling like a child
COMMENTS: [0] comments

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Dido over Welch. Award shows make me belch.
February 7, 2011

dido

Why was I so obsessed with last year’s Academy Awards? Sandra Bullock. Yes, she’s not the most brilliant actress, but she’s the most likeable one out there and my hunger to see her walk on that grand stage and hold the little golden naked man trophy superseded my disgust at how political award shows get.

Sooo…what’s making me tune in this year? Dido Florian Cloud de Bounevialle O’Malley Armstrong. Or Dido. I’ve been a massive fan of hers since the moment “Here With Me” started playing on Roswell. She’s got this fur lined voice you want to snuggle up to and her public persona is almost nonexistent, leaving room for the rest of us to focus on the music being made, despite her gazillion album sales.

She’s been nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Song for “If I Rise”, a piece of heaven constructed by Dido, her brother, Rollo, and the legendary AR Rahman, for the amazing film 127 hours, helmed by Danny B oyle. You should watch the film and you’ll understand why it’s been getting rave reviews. You should listen to the song and you’ll come to appreciate why the song fits the movie and ‘the moment’ perfectly. You should then, like what I’m planning to do, tune into the 83rd Academy Awards and aside from watching James Franco and Anne Hathaway try to entertain Jews in tuxedos, keep your eyes on the screen to see whether Dido will walk on stage to accept her aw—

Wait. Dido isn’t attending the award ceremony. They’re pulling Florence Welch in instead. You know, the wailer from Florence and the Machine. She’s singing Dido’s parts. WTF? If you can’t have Dido, you can’t have Dido. Dido let something similar slide at the Grammys with Elton John singing her lines with Eminem. But at the Grammys then, she wasn’t nominated. This time, she’s nominated. It’s her show. Her shine. I sooo badly wanted to see her walk on stage and perform on stage.

Does she not want to be seen by the public eye? I don’t mind Florence honestly but she always overdoes the ‘emotion’. She wants to be Janis Joplin, we get it. Sigh. Whatever. I still love Dido. I hope she wins. I was really hoping a performance would get more people interested in her upcoming album since her last album sold so poorly. That’s the business side of me talking. The other side just wants more Dido songs.
-Hazim Haemoglobin-

MOOD: white flagging

TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, dido, florence and the machine, 83rd academy awards, 127 hours, ar rahman, danny boyle, if I rise

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It’s Haemoglobin! It’s Haemoglobin!
February 6, 2011
Hazim
I’ve been telling people I have my own website, and their first response is ‘why?’ It’s a question I have trouble conjuring up a satisfying answer to. Why do I have my own website? I’m not an artist, a celebrity, and I don’t run my own business. I have lots of things I’d like to express though, from Cairo to cunnilungus. I also like to write them out in any form that tugs at my mood at the time I’m feeling them. Often times, they make themselves known as poems and prose. But I’m not limited to that. There are short stories; there are blog entries about my day, thoughts on music, or just a rant about how Glee songs suck.


I don’t know how interesting I am. Or how boring. If you think a green loving short shorts-obsessed, perverted Asian boy who likes sex with socks on is interesting, then you have come to the right place! Or you just want to read something from somebody like that…

And why Haemoglobin? Because Biology was the only subject in (Malaysian) school I ever enjoyed. To hear my teacher explain about the mechanics of my vas deferens might be a more specific explanation. I said might. Don’t look into it though.

-Hazim Haemoglobin-
MOOD: kek lapis and hot tea
TAGS: hazim haemoglobin, blog entry, Cairo, cunnilungus

 


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