"According to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, when we're dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five distinct stages of grief.

We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can't imagine it's true.

We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves.

Then we bargain. We beg. We plead. We offer everything we have, we offer our souls in exchange for just one more day.

When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we've done everything we can.

We let go. We let go and move into acceptance

.
In medical school, we have a hundred lessons that teach us how to fight off death, and not one lesson on how to go on living.

.
The dictionary defines grief as keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss; sharp sorrow; painful regret.

As surgeons, as scientists, we're taught to learn from and rely on books, on definitions, on definitives. But in life, strict definitions rarely apply. In life, grief can look like a lot of things that bear little resemblance to sharp sorrow.

Grief may be a thing we all have in common, but it looks different on everyone.

It isn't just death we have to grieve. It's life. It's loss. It's change.

And when we wonder why it has to suck so much sometimes, has to hurt so bad. The thing we gotta try to remember is that it can turn on a dime.

That's how you stay alive. When it hurts so much you can't breathe, that's how you survive.

By remembering that one day, somehow, impossibly, you won't feel this way. It won't hurt this much.

Grief comes in its own time for everyone, in its own way.

So the best we can do, the best anyone can do, is try for honesty.

The really crappy thing, the very worst part of grief is that you can't control it.

The best we can do is try to let ourselves feel it when it comes.

And let it go when we can.

The very worst part is that the minute you think you're past it, it starts all over again.

And always, every time, it takes your breath away.

There are five stages of grief. They look different on all of us, but there are always five.

Denial.
Anger.
Bargaining.
Depression.
Acceptance. "

Grey's Anatomy, Season 6 Episode 1

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naw i've realized something. the things i wrote in this blog, is mostly what's on my mind.

g

a day in the interwebbh!

selamat hari raya aidiladha.

facebook is epic. one of these times, when our kids were in highschool, it will be written that facebook has help humanity in many ways, as well as detained them. facebook, and the likes of social networking, is the definitions of the end of the world.

people go and say, "wow we are at the edge of eternal damnation, with all these disasters and shits happen everyday, god has spoken and he's not happy!!", as if the mother nature has called and say hello humanity, this is mother nature and you are all fucked.

although i didn't intend to oppose to that, that our world is coming to an end, there is some logical explanations behind it.

simply, with the rapid development and the globalization(the one we always put into our bm essays back in school), people are generally more informed nowadays than in 1745 or the the time of our forefathers.

amy winehouse's short rehab stint, bam twitter and internet got all over scribbled on them. there is a quake in guadalajara, we go on internet and there is breaking news and news feed! we are basically cannot run from being informed.

new moon if your opah got remarried and would like to tell her dearly grandchild in UK, it will be like half a year to reach to the recipient. people going to mecca for haji, they give 3years to do that. and despite that there were chernobyl explosion, bubonic plague, black plague and the eruption of krakatau volcano, this world we know, went on and messed the next generation that is us.

we are nowadays more connected, and closer than before and like it or not, when disasters strike, the ripple effect would soon affect us. from one person to another, it feel so close and frequent, we panicked and we started to believe every theory surfaces.

it is simply a relative measurement. how do you determined that we are fucked up anyway? counting every single disaster every year and do a comparison? what will you count, the number of incidence, the casualties, the area covered? how do we know?

people said 2012 and all, well, for once i think there is no truth to that. i believe that when the world is going to end, everything would unfold, resolve and it will be all about loosing the tied ends. there will be no more wars, politics, power struggle and all. and when that happens, we are ready to go.

well, speaking of facebook(not really), i happened to cross a picture of me during school days. i'm not gonna mention how thin i were or how fair my complexion was, but the comment section was full with comments about politics. how an innocent, juvenile picture of people basically being foolish turns into a political debate is still a mystery to me.

basically this one guy saying that all these turmoil of inner country to turn people against our own pm was basically a way of the westerners to slip the doctrine and their cunning reformation needle into the peaceful country of ours, that if we have jobs, we get salaries, we can go shopping without any worries and all, the government has done the job; and regardless what scandals or bribery news it may come, that is between the pm and god.

there is many things i don't agree with the statement. first, we all will meet a dead end if we bring god and religions into politics. seriously, gods is too clean and noble and almighty to be brought into such a dirty thing as politics.

second, we gotta stop blaming the western on everything. when the truth is, we see what we wanna see. we believe what we wanna believe, what is convenient to ours, and that including finger pointing towards western. while there maybe some truth to that, we have to stop believing any conspiracies theory or one world government and shits, that if we go this way we are fucked up. it is the same case, when our fulfilments needed then fuck pm and their corruptions as long as we live. if the western love to take over us so much, fuck them and i live on my own will, not by any constraints by some people.

ok, night.

g

Kuala Lumpur: The Storytelling

Kuala Lumpur, as I remember, was a distant place. It was the place you go when there is some kenduri or events your wealthier cousins are having. It was the place your loaded uncles and aunties come from with big shiny cars and had with them high-tech toys for their children when they come during Aidilfitri.

Kuala Lumpur, is the city where these relatives of mine buy their kids nice smelling clothes, trendy upcoming brands (D’Urban, Don – wonder where they are now) and sometimes, for us village folks too. Kuala Lumpur, in my mind, was futuristic, glamorous, never-sleep metropolitan that promised high pace lifestyle where you don’t have to find empty milk canes to play in the evening but instead you have computer games or gameboys. Little did I know, I was so wrong .

By the time I finished sekolah menengah, I have a bit more complicated ideas about Kuala Lumpur folks. I have many friends originated from Kuala Lumpur, and not two of them are the same. The ideas the national TVs planted in every young mind in their dramas and sitcoms about KL people are proven to be wrong; rude, snobby, knob (or n00b), stingy, holier-than-thou, get easily disgust with anything that has the word “kampong” in it, so powerful in English, always drinking orange juices in tall glasses with little umbrella embedded, and so on.

I can go all night listing down the moral inaccuracies portrayed by the TV and all of them were wrong. Kuala Lumpur people, I've learned, are normal people.

However, I have never tasted the taste of Kuala Lumpur on my own term. It was always either listening to my friends telling me how wonderful the big city was or me in my uncle’s car and he taking me round of Dataran Merdeka, one time in Zoo Negara, Tasik Titiwangsa and all that places where you bring your nephews from village go visiting.

It was exciting alright, but when I tasted the real thing later in my life, it was far more exhilarating. It’s like when you sit shotgun in your father’s car and you thought this is like you were driving but when it’s your first time to drive, the feeling is more thrilling than ever (well, at least for the first time). It is different, good different.

However, my uncles did bring me taking a ride in the newest, latest buzz that is LRT. Now if you take Putra Line on weekdays when the coaches are empty, you’ll see few kids running to the end of the train, awed-face, and their jaws dropping; that was me. My uncle told me this train has no driver, it moves by the power lines and some electrical stuff. Honestly, he had me at “no driver”. He took us back and forth Bangsar-Dang Wangi-Bangsar. It was in Dang Wangi, the underground station that got me believe how developed my country is. It was just like how I saw in movies, all shiny and new, and people all quite and beautiful. It was Kuala Lumpur, and it was nice. It was quite an adventure.

Now years gone, when I take hindsight to that day, I can still feel that little me admiring one of among many, many things Kuala Lumpur has to offer. But for a 9 almost 10 year old, that was enough to sweep him off his feet. And from that on, never I have been more determined to live among these people, living the life of Kuala Lumpur folks, and be a part of it. It might be small now but we never know what smallest things could give the biggest impact or impressions to someone.

Of course, that was Kuala Lumpur circa 1998-1999.

To be continued…

photo credit : www.tropicalislands.de

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Dinner time is the laziest. I have to walk to the diner and wait for my meal, it is harmless if the servants do their job faster but the fact that they are slowpokes always got on my nerve. They literally mopping around the place, and sigh when customers come.

I don't have any other option anyway, to keep my health in pink, this is one place i found that won't give me diarrhea amidst the infected chickens and old vegetables they put in your daily menu. Not to mention doubtful meat, which is why i don't consume processed meat such as bakso. Well, those in European countries maybe can brag that they've tasted the authentic belgian chocolate or germany croissants or italian pasta; i can brag that maybe probably i've tasted cat's meat or rat's tail. Who knew?

Well what's a dinner without side dish. I love to feast on my meal of deep-fried chicken breast with a gorengan, a lotsa them. A few steps away from the ever slow moving snails in the diner, there is a dorongan which serves a various choice of gorengan; by that i mean 5(that is aplenty here). Though sometimes i have to wait in long queue of people to get my order, i rather standing beside this bapak than sit in the diner because i can see this bapak is a hardworking man, he work fast and he has smile donned in his face.

I know he worked hard for his family, maybe he got 5 children at home who just waited for their father finished the day's chore, and a wife at home who misses the warmth of his husband's breath on her collarbones. This is one of many gifts i would love to believe I possessed. Even if some people came up to me and say "yo nigga, that man ain't a saint. he's got a ho riding his back and that money, damn that goes to his bling-blang and madafaking brothel!", i would still think that guy's noble. It's the heart that knows right?

One thing, if you are living in a city like Jakarta, you will meet poor people; and i don't mean poor "I can't afford that mj's t-shirt", but poor like they have nothing to eat, they have no house nor shelters, they have nothing. anyway one thing they don't have to worry about rent! And there is a lot of them. children, teenagers, old people, old and blind people, old and deformed people, old and with a baby people, very very old and stinky people; all kind of poor people.

So there i was, standing beside the hawker(not hooker) looking across the road at the diner waiting for any signs of movements or efforts at all from the mbaks to got up to my order, i saw this old couple, really old couple. They're both shabby and obviously undereat, the woman has to use a cane for support, and the man is blind. The man holding his hand together and bring it forward(how to say menadah tangan?), and the old lady holding his shoulder and his hands, puppy eyed. They are the idea of every Astro and fauziah nawi's collaboration for raya's drama that we have been flooded with every single year; only this one's real.

If there is one thing i couldn't stand watching and do nothing, is these kind of poor old people. It is different if they are small kids or teenagers; by giving they money we're just enabling them, supporting them to do more begging and they will stop being more proactive in their lives, which then results in dreams dying. This is old people, who don't have years ahead of them, probably months. What's a small chip on our wallet, like it would totally give weight to the new shoes you just bought.

Now when I do this, often people would say, authoratively, "hey, they are a part of a scam syndicate, they milk money out of people, and at the end of the day, they give the head or the samseng all the money, and by this you are not just enabling the bad people, you also lost your money. see sucka, still think you're so nice now huh?"

For once i don't care i am enabling the bad people or not. as long as i can probably save the old couple a day's beating or scolding or without food, i think i do my part.

and also got me thinking that if a not so good person like i am can do some goods, what's other people. honestly by now i am totally lost why am i writing this story, and then i am afraid someone would say "hey see this dude showing off that he's being generous and shit" and if that ever crossed any of your mind then fuck off, i don't. it just i wanted to say that there is kindness in every person.

my point exactly is that if i can do some goods and pity people, so do other people. no matter hos bad they are. if there is one thing i learned from reading to kill a mockingbird by harper lee is that all people are kind people, if you got to know them and give them a chance. the thing that make people do irrational things is the moments of doubt and reasoning, the time where you had to stop and think for a moment, a deep thought out action which then based on the reasoning.

now the process of reasoning can be contributed by many things. Ones have many reasons to believe or not believing something. One maybe had experiences some events that taught him something. and then this goes into their reasoning. Honestly, no man wants to do harm any other on this earth. Even to their enemy. The reasoning what makes them thought bad thoughts about them. That's how god created us, from a clean slate and we go down from there and create every bump and every lump and every hole necessary in our lives.

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"You'd be surprised how hard that's be. I won't live to see the law changed, and if you lived to see it you'll be an old man."

This was not good enough for Jem. "No sir, they oughta do away with juries. He wasn't guilty in the first place and they said he was."

"If you had been on that jury, son, and eleven other boys like you, Tom would be a free man," said Atticus. "So far nothing in your life has interfered with ypur reasoning process. Those are twelve reasonable men in everyday life, Tom's jury, but you saw something come between me them and the reason. You saw the same thing that night in the jail. When the crew went away, they didn't go as reasonable men, they went because we were there. There's something in our world that makes men lose their heads - they couldn't be fair if they tried. In our courts, when it's a white man's word against a b;ack man's, the white man always win. They're ugly, but those are the facts of life."

"Doesn't make it right," said Jem stoodily. He beat his fist softly on his knee. "You can't just convict a man on evidence like that - you can't."

"You couldn't, but they could and they did. The older you grow of it you'll see. The one place where a man ought to get a square deal is in a courtroom, be he any color of the rainbow, but people have way of carrying their resentments into a jury box. As you grow older, you'll see white men cheat black men every day of your life, but let me tell you something and don't you forget it - whenever a white man does that to a black man, no matter who he is, how rich he is, or how fine a family he comes from, that white man is a trash."

To kill a mockingbird,

Harper Lee.

reading this novel reminds me of the innocence of childhood, of looking up at the adults and wonder why he does certain things, why he act that way or what did they think. and did not believe that our parents were normal people, not superman nor the saints, that they have their own lives before us.

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Distorsi

Ada hari hari aku merasa penat seolah olah tak
satupun anggota gerak di badanku ini
kepunyaanku seolah tak ada satu orang pun
di dunia yang sadar akan aku seolah aku orang
paling seorang diri di dunia tanpa anggota gerak
dan tanpa satu orang pun untuk aku pergi
menfadu. Dan pada hari hari seperti ini angin
bergerak lambat agar aku boleh menumpang
dan terbang walau sayap ku dipatahkan
di semua sambungan dan anyaman

Iya, aku akan berteme dengan orang lain.

Tapi sampai waktu itu datang, yakinlah bahawa
tak ada satu pun elemen atau jasad
atau bahkan engkau sendiridapat membetulkan
hati aku yang sedang rosak parah ini.

Mimi Mortica,
Tangerin&Nikotin


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the home : missing

.

.

i miss my home, my family.

i am not the biggest confronter of my feeling, i 'ave pushed my mom and my dad away for a long time. most biggest times of my life so far are filled with their absence, and i learned to live woth it.

.

i miss my home, my mom and my dad, i miss my family.

.

there is love different than hugging and saying i love you, there is love more than that. love in silence kept sealed, love in every thought and hope, love in every gesture and every words. it is unspoken, unrevealed, by any way unseen.

but it is there, always there, never ever less, though with every bad words i have spoken to them,

every bad thoughts i have thought of them,

every single wish i wish they were there,

every little things i do just to make them happy,

in every fight,

every resistance.

i miss my home, my mom and dad, who made it home.

the platinum.

.

.

.

it's funny when you hated someone so much, you can't stop talking about them. most of the time you spent talking about them; why you hate them so much, what they did flawed and ugly, what they wearing so ridiculous and what's not. and the rest of your time then you spent hoping someone say their name so you can talk more about them.

.

it is silly, how opposite things work. you want one thing, another thing happens. this happens.

.

like how you hated a song so much, you'd remember every bit of the lyrics with the bass and guitar solo parts. that's how attraction works, in both way. there is saying in showbiz that 'there is no bad publicity'. the more you hated a person, they more keen you to know about them.

.

you need more reason to hate them. more people to hate them just as much as you do. when the truth is you feel sorry for them, and you hated yourself because you had allowed yourself to feel sorry for that person you hated. when in fact, you of all people know that this one person do not deserve any sympathy or any kind of nice gestures. most of the time, you hated what you had become.

.

a person embodied hatred and vengeance, stubbornnes and selfish, the big fat ego that keeps eating you alive, lives in your every veins and words. EGO.

.

this is not my first time, this is only one of my many experiences. when i decided to hate and ignore someone, i mean it. i just don't need the interference and i can always find myself useful and living without them, so what am i to lose?

.

myself.

.

so in the spirit of wednesday night 2am, i do not forgive and i certainly do not forget what a particular someone did to me. it just that i had nothing to do with it, i don't have any fault in whatever had happened(wht you say to me was unacceptable and that was uncalled for, you had shamed me, and i ain't taking risk of being shamed again). the lines had been crossed and there is no way you can get out of it. when truth is,

.

i pity you. you live in a world where almost everyone has something bad to talk about you, a world where you hated your friend but you have no choice. a world in which no one to tell you how wrong can you get, a world in which you thought you are the best, you are the king, people should listen to you. you, don't realize, that people don't give a fuck what you do, they do not afraid you, they do not listen to you. a world in which people, have their own lives, and that i doesn't involve you.

a world in which you think you own but you are owned.

i pity you.

g

if you go to private hospital, you will be paying a lot of money. why? because they conduct unnecessary tests. they admit you into ward for fever, and from then on, they will try to find what's wrong with the patient.

this is regarding to a post by hazrey/bapak gula-gula.

the problem with malaysian public is, they think they all suffer more than others. i have read many comments, experiences by the public, about doctor's service. while some of them are absolutely the doctor's fault, some are plain ignorance come from the public.

i, as supposedly am, will try to discuss on the public's part, because the doctor's part are all abundantly discussed, and they said bad things about doctors.

a woman fractured her facial bones. i read a comment, from a fellow medical student, do a CAT scan. ridiculous. CAT scan is expensive, and although is the best diagnosis method, pretty much pointless if the fractures could be simply seen from foto orbita.

i have been taught here, in indonesia, to give the cheapest service. and if you go to private, they will do all sorts of test, unnecessary and expensive test. patients then say, "wow there is a lot not going right with my body", in which actually, do not help in making the diagnosis.

public sometimes think they are too good, as victims.

this is my humble opinion, as a fellow med student, not all doctors are bad. i read comment even call doctors babi. okay then find a babi to cure your son's meningitis when comes the time. and they rather trust in private, pay expensive service. well go on, no one forbid you.

yes, i do get mad if i get treated late. i've been on that side. waiting long hours just to get some paracetamol prescription and then on the counter, it is maddening. but as far as i be a med student, each cases is unique. there is no way a doctor could simply prescribe medicines. it's not like if demam, give this, flu give this. no.

some doctors are cranky. the we say doctors are human. they the public says suck it up and do your job.

well as far as i've been seeing, no one likes their job in this world. i mean, journalist says they have been tretaed badly. do we say suck it up. govt people hardly smile on the counter, do we say suck it up. tukang sapu sampah hates their job, do we say suck it up? we are human, with emotion, not robots. if you get cranky, it is only validation of the human's biological and physiological functions.

g

thank you those who had me on their strings.

i gave you my brain so i couldn't, and wouldn't think anything beside to devour all my soul and effort for you.

take my mouth, so i cannot speak what's in my mind.

thank you for the glorious path you think you had me, and i think i had no choice but to follow through.

thank you, big man. you are winning, as much as any other thing.

but remember, you just lost one vote here, and although it seems harmless, not if you multiple it by 300 something, multiple it by how many places we are, we are totally winning.

but for one, you had us on strings, do as you please.

g

"mau lulus kuliah kedokteran itu gampang bangat, yang sulitnya lulus dengan cemerlang"

-dr Elly.

g

back when i was in school, i hate reading. how ironic it is, now that i am into reading i got bad grades. back when i was in school, i could go all week read nothing and got in-your-face result. well i guess karma really is a bitch. it will get you eventually.

we have komsas for bm. i read each of the antologi's though. the ones with puisi, sajak, cerpen and all shits innit, where they were shorter and simpler than the novels. and being in pantai timur, we had been served with patriotic novels to no end, and twisted wtf terminal tiga.

i never finished any of the books. why bother when you can get the essence in reference book. i remember throwing timulak kapal perang from second floor of my hostel just because it was boring and with hope by doing so, the story would be so much cooler. it didn't.

how do they expect student to actually read and suddenly outburst with the needs to express their patriotism when they failed to get the student's attention in the first place. but when you talk about these kinda things, it's no bizarre; it is a government brainwash scheme. i bet our education system looked good on the paper, but they certainly forget to include the human in it. the anomalies of human creation itself.

and there i go again, crapped crapped crappity crap.

and actually i have go way off the real point here. so, with the limited number of readings i've done in school, and put the blame on meself, i've liked some of the prosa. it wasn't bad some of them, the antologis, i mean they are the good non-deviant ones that have been chosen to be put into the book. this is one of my favourites,

Ketika Kami Bercerita Tentangnya
oleh Lim Swee Tin

Ketika kami bercerita tentangnya
bapa sedang tidur
aku cukup kenal
pada lelap matanya
tikar mengkuang lusuh itu
barangkali, tambah melenakan bapa.

Tadi
lama sekali bapa menemani kami
mengisi malam-malam seperti selalunya
duduk mengelilingi pelita minyak tanah
yang kecil itu
semacam pahit dan getir pengalamannya
begitu akrab pula
dengan kami semua.

Tidak pernah kami menyoal
mengapa demikian
laut sejarahnya
kerana
seperti juga di hutan kehidupan ini
kami sedia memaklumi
akan ketentuan
yang harus digenggam.

Asap pelita berkepul
sesekali meliuk digerak angin
ketika kami bercerita
tentang bapa
aku cukup faham
pada sebuah doa yang selalu disebutnya:

Semoga ombak masa laluku
bukan gelombang masa depanmu.

damn good right? if i have to say why i like this particular poem in the first place, it is because of this one person who read this poem on a school competition. the minggu bahasa activity, malam sajak. is it ara or shakira? i forgot. but i still remember the way she, yes it's a she, read it. the tone, the way the words coming out of her mouth. it was perfect.

she didn't win it anyhow.

and because of this simplest form of a poem, i once inspired to write one too. the words are simple, the message is loud and clear. but like any other thing i have tried, i failed. poetry isn't my call.

i have friends who were talented in various ways. one can stand hours crunching numbers and what's not, one can read a book and remember details, one has nice singing voice and was hiding it, one can speak in public really well with sentences you cannot get back at, one loved history and have it for breakfast, and so and so.

i tried to find my talent. and the only one i found so far is, making people laugh. which is sometime is annoying.

and when i was in school, i tried to write karangan and essays. i was average.

i am always average, never the best, sometimes the worst. i guess that is my gift.

g

men were born with ego bigger than rosmah's hair and shahrizat's hair combined. that's how big it is. no man like to be taught, advised or corrected. that's when the phrase i stand corrected was coined by some alpha male but somehow through dilution over time, the phrase has been used more by women than men nowadays.

i am one of those men. when it comes to certain things, i just don't wanna lose. no matter how wrong or deviant i might be. i can twist the fact, knowing that i am wrong but would never admit it, it it can make me wins the argument.

i am not ashamed of it. i think it is part of my pride. so, i will not put my feet down for some guy, who is knowingly shamed me, talked behind my back, and ask for forgiveness. if that will ever happened, i won't be the first to make a move.

if you hating the same person for a long time, you somehow would start to forget why you did in the first place. the only thing that's left is the hatred and compulsion, and that is the devil. hatred for a certain soul i have felt for some times now, is not diluted. it will never be.

ego, sir, feed on this emotion. he likes it. so do i.

g

dearest JPA,

I know it is not your fault the money didn't come in yet. I also know that there is no use this letter of complaint being flown to you since your people are so busy working and managing more important businesses, such as launching a dinner attended by superly important datuks, attending meetings that lasted hours and ended with no conclusions, receiving calls from the students and then refer them to another party and other corporate stuffs.

that is a lot of work to handle and i am so sorry and understand the stress you have.

instead this is only a telling of my heart, since i don't think i can no longer hold on to this feeling. yes, as you all would have guessed, i am broke. and i didn't mean broke like "i am broke my bank has rm200 only", but i am broke that i have to pass lunch and waiting for dinner to open up my instant noodles.

i know patience is a virtue, and mahatma gandhi was starving himself up for a better treatment from the coloniser. sorry, sir, i am utterly stupid in history. my point is, sir, i am no mahatma gandhi. i am more like colonel sanders of kfc.

you know, sir, that i am really, really grateful for i have been chosen as one of the winner of JPA scholarships. yes i say winner because unlike mara (i should spare petronas telekom and others), Jpa is a battle to be won to be the winner. it was hard to get one. but, sir, i think that feeling has long boarded the train to north pole, and i was left at the station. it's a metaphor, sir, for i had already given up on Jpa.

not only we had to sign a contract of 10years, sir, but we also have to work our ass, sorry, butt off to get a result as required by your party. and with this mental torture, alck of facilities and social awkwardness when it comes to certain things, i think it is best if JPA does not burden student with things as petty as this, i.e: the delay in deposition of the allowance.

yes, we spent them on things only god can imagine, you should not be surprised. we are human, sir, and we have needs. it is on the manslow hierarchy(sorry sir, i forgot) of living. don't blame us, when  in fact we all do the same things, isn't it.

i don't want to start on health insurance, sir. we are like an HIV person who is susceptible with as many as diseases a man could have and there is nothing he can do about it. we are not superhuman, sir. we do sick. and we sick, we need money. and it is ridiculous if we have to pat the medical expenses on our own since well, we are you winners, and winners got heavenly treatment it should be.

so basicly, i just want you, sir, to be more attentive of our problems, sir. you party ask us students to understand the sponsor, but how about your side, sir? and be grateful as we are, but when it comes to survival, how far do you think it can bring us? be more responsible of people under your care, sir.

i think that is enough. if there's anymore i should write more. i do not expect any reply, nor i respect any apologize. i just want this simple issues being resolved for both side's satisfaction.

thank you.

truly,
gman