Sunday, December 16, 2007

You do? You don't. Period.

I have a problem with everyone I met, and I mean every single person, even my mother, my brothers and my family, friends. No, they ALL have a problem.

It all started with a simple statement. "I like cars." As cliche as "I like girls" from a guys mouth, it's a classic statement where the interpretation of it and my disagreement for the interpretation signifies me as the one being 'WRONG'; as I oppose everyone's perception of it, or of my perceived 'hobby'.

It all goes terribly wrong when they started to 'want' to engage in a conversation with me about cars; they'd go "Why didn't you train up being a mechanic?"

No I don't like oil stains, screwdrivers and spanners.

In fact, most mechanics treat cars the same way as a plumber treat your shithole, the one where you shit into and not from thou. To them it's just a job, not a hobby.

Hence when I answered 'No I don't like fixing cars' without further efforts into explaining, they'd go "Why didn't you learn designing cars?"

No I don't like and don't know how to design a car, same as most of the designers who designed very successful models like the Toyota Unser; all they ever need was a ruler and a pencil with no sharpener, as they'd easily finish that piece of 'exquisite', 'successful' model within 5 minutes.

The conversation then goes abit tricky for them and they would start suggesting me to be a racer, or a drifter, or Alonso. Then there goes my patience for the whole world's stupidity and naiveness.

The worst, worst of all, in fact Oxford needs a new term for this degree of worst-ness, which I'll dubb WORSTESTEREST to add on the exclamation, is that I am reagarded as one of the 3 billion people in this world that 'likes cars', given a ratio of 50:50 split between males and females.

Most "Car Enthusiasts" add spoilers on every single surface of their car deem possible, they have loud exhausts, leopard or tiger or whichever feline skins they could possibly get hold of, and loud bing banging sub woofers in their boots.

Their "dream car" is either a BMW 3 series in their 30s or a Ferrari in their 50s.

They have much more proof than me as to whether they are "good at" in their hobby, they could've owned an Evolution, or a Honda Civic Type-R, a Proton GTRRXXTTSST 3000, they could've raced frequently from Jalan Ampang, Petaling Street, Jalan Kuching; they might know how to drift with their Datsun 120Y, and they might know every single mechanical part in an engine bay.

Worst of all, they would have extremely bad fashion tastes, with half a bottle of Gatsby on their pubic hair given that they're all dickheads.

I"M ONE OF THEM, as perceived, and it's my fault that the world is wrong in their interpretation of my statement that "I liked cars".

I can name every single car on the road when I'm in my primary school years. I've played with toy cars since young, I know every single car manufacturer in this world, I know their history and how their design language has altered, and I can immediately tell, whether this car was produced with passion, or motif. I like cars, car industry in fact, as a whole. I'm intrigue by cars, the car industry if I'm allowed to explain.

Why didn't you all interpret someone who likes good food as someone who "failed" in achieveing their dreams of becoming a chef? Why you won't 'shed light' onto a person's life and tell them what's next to be done when they mentioned they like fashion? It's as if telling someone to write a book, or to go into publishing industry when they merely mumbled they're hobby is reading.

In short, I like cars, and you are all wrong.

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