A Muted Global Pandemonium

Internet luring is common, since perhaps, 10 years ago. And any child can become the victim of an internet predator. A sexual predator, to be exact. And these predators are open to anything. They don’t discriminate gender, ethnicity, education, socioeconomic status, even religion.

Nowadays, there are many stories of young children being groomed online and raped. Rescued? Less than half of that.

However, even at home, one is not safe. One does not have the fear of being left alone for no reason. Or being left alone with a certain person.

I don’t personally know any rape victims, but I do know a number of those who were sexually abused – as a child, even adults. And there are a few that I know who were sexually assaulted by their own next of kin – the victims of incest.

While they nervously shared with me about the routine event of molestation, whether or not they experienced the sadistic crime of rape, I don’t really know.

When I was 18, a friend in high school once shared a very disturbing story with me. A story of incest that took place in the 1970s between his uncle and his aunt. Every now and then, whenever the topic comes into discussions, I would have flashbacks of the narration that makes me sick. The narration was so graphic. It was more than just molestation. And I questioned the incident, though – was it rape, or accidentally a consensual sex?

It was a tale of incest that first took place in a cornfield. His uncle who was drunk when he shared the story with him was in his late teen when one day he realised how fully developed his younger sister was. Puberty did her right. She was curvy and voluptuous. She still is today, even in her late 50s.

The siblings were close when they were kids. They were innocent. He admitted, however, that he has always been sexually active and developed wild imaginations when he was a young boy. As he gets older, masturbating was getting boring for him.

He has had his eyes on his sister for quite some time before the cornfield incident. He shared that he would have sexual dreams of her. Her shadows and silhouettes at night drove him crazy that he would masturbate to the images he has of her whenever he had the chance.

The sister who had no idea what was going on in her brother’s head, of course, didn’t have any suspicions and was okay being left alone with him. He was her trusted babysitter. Or at least, seemed less predatory.

The story as told by my friend:

So one day, in the cornfield, and happened to be far from everyone else, just the two of them, he couldn’t control himself. Watching his sister walking from behind, somehow physically exposed, he could feel himself having a hard-on.

He couldn’t stand the torture anymore and told her to stop walking. She ran to him and coincidentally brushed her breast against his face as he lifted his head and moved closer to her.

He took a step back and looked at her from top to toe. Obviously, he was undressing her. But still, she didn’t suspect anything. Until he got even closer to her and started violating her body. She was stunned, I’m sure but, couldn’t say anything. He pinned her down in the dirt in the cornfield.

He started touching her firm breasts. He took off her shirt. And then her bra. He groped and massaged her breasts. He pinched her nipples between his fingers. Her nipples both go rock hard at that. She whimpered. It turned him on and then continued rubbing and pinching her nipples for a while. He was having a time of his life with no guilt at all. And she moaned a little as if she liked it.

He then started kissing her breast, and slowly went down and started sucking them. While at it, he pulled down her pants, sliding it down her hips. He spread her legs and started caressing her thighs. He could feel her body shaking. And slowly pulled down her pants and panties to her feet. She was breathing heavily and moaning as he became more aggressive with her breast. When he rubbed her pussy, she whimpered. She was so wet!

Dude, I am a guy and I know for sure, why he couldn’t help himself!

Her body language was so inviting, she whimpered and moaned! She was so wet that she allowed his finger slid up her snatch then forced its way inside her pussy! She was a virgin and her pussy was tight.

It’s so wrong that I was so into his story. They are my uncle and aunt for fuck sake!

And of course, naturally, she spread her legs even wider. He didn’t need any more encouragement to go on. He took off her pants and panties, shoved his head down, started kissing and licking her pussy. She was moaning like crazy as his tongue plunged in and out of her. He fingered her and ate her out. And later, his hard dick slid into her wet pussy. As he was fucking her, she was moaning, gasping and panting, craving more.

Doesn’t she know that she was being raped? Did she want it to happen? I had so many questions in my head.

And I asked my friend, “Didn’t he feel guilty at all?”

“He said he enjoyed it, and he could tell that she enjoyed it too. She sort of didn’t say stop,” said my friend.

“Did it happen again after that?” I asked.

“No idea, I didn’t ask. But I can’t look at them the same way anymore,” he said.

Well, I don’t think I can even see them as siblings, hugging each other without thinking it’s sort of in a comforting yet sexual embrace.

But they seem to be cordial with each other. They are both married. Not to each other, of course. And in fact, they are grandparents now.

Let bygones be bygones, I guess. But I am pretty sure, if it was rape, she must be traumatised by the incident. And if she was, perhaps at that time, nobody reacted to her traumatic reactions. Perhaps even she herself would not have realised that she has checked out for a while and was not being herself. And she must have had an endless amount of sleepless nights. And perhaps, dealt with it by never telling anyone, and eventually forgetting it herself.

No two rape victims will react in the exact same way. Some would want to be positive and live their lives. While some would think, what is the point of living anymore? And they would engage in substance abuse of drugs or alcohol to help cope with the overwhelming feelings.

There are many short- and long-term effects of sexual assault and rape. There are the physical, mental and spiritual effects. Mental illness and depression can lead to self-injurious behaviours. Victims of sexual abuse become abusers themselves.

According to Penang Women Development Corporation (PWDC) chairman Yap Soo Huey in 2015, there are 3,000 rape cases reported every year on average in Malaysia, with only two out of 10 cases going to court.

Rape is a crime that revolves around power, hostility, and violence. Rapists don’t discriminate. And they can be anyone – strangers and family members with an insatiable thirst.

Rape happens every day. Yet, it’s one of the most under-reported crimes in Malaysia and around the world. A lot of evidence point out that Malaysians’ attitude towards rape is very poor. And victim-blaming seems to be the culture.

I’m not a professional but I’m glad that people trust me enough to talk about their experiences with me. I believe by doing so, they feel more relieved and liberated. And that they stop blaming themselves for what had happened to them.

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. For some of us, it’s a day of love and romancing. Some, it’s a day to be a complete couch potato. While for the rest, it’s probably a day of reliving their worst nightmare.

Everyone wanted their first time to be a loving and positive experience. Unfortunately, not everyone gets what they want and eventually make themselves believe they had a wonderful night.

On a separate (yet related) note, one of the biggest forces in the Universe is puberty. It has the highest potential for transforming one’s life from zero to hero. Don’t forget, good genes play a part too.

While we can say that puberty kicked in at the right moment and did the right job with some of us, it did not for the rest, with additional fat tissue and funny patches where they are not needed.

But when it did the right job, and you are in the wrong place at the wrong time, it gives rise to certain evocative tales – sexual assault and rape. Perhaps, let’s include child sexual abuse as well.

 

Being Sarawakian: The Reserved Tribe

All the while I was in the Peninsula, I have had the chance to mingle with people of different culture, mindset, attitudes and characteristics. This was through my college years and employment at two different companies.

Quite embarrassed to say, I feel like I know the people of the Peninsula more than I know my own people back home. Even more embarrassed when they ask me questions about my own state, I could not answer them confidently; worried that I would be the butt of or their jokes if they happen to know more that I do.

Here is the thing, I left Kuching before I turn 21 and basically grew up in the Peninsula as I was there for almost a decade. I was a loner in my teenage years and I was deep in my own world of imagination and worry. I was busy writing and making music.

Leaving the Peninsula meant leaving my life, my friends, and my career. During my time there, I was not surrounded by any Borneans (relatives not included). Even when I come across a few, there was a degree of uncomfortableness that made me distance myself from them. The main reason would be their mindset. However, I do have two close friends that I met in college, though – Sharon Bentley (Kelabit + Chinese) and Clarribel Sayong (Iban). And they are an exception.

While they claim to be much more open-minded and liberal, they are to a certain degree, the opposite. Excluding my close friends, the majority of the people in Peninsula are downright racist and judgemental. I was lucky to have the one-of-a-kinds as my friends and confidant. They are the reason why I stayed there that long apart from it being the land of opportunities.

However, I am not discussing their attitude and characteristics to cause unnecessary chaos. Abiding by the series Being Sarawakian, this post is about my opinion on the progress of my own people.

The Attitude and Characteristics of the Bidayuhs

As mentioned in my previous post, the Bidayuhs are generally soft-spoken people. We are quite reserved and do not open up to strangers very easily.

Many articles/books written by the Europeans in the 19th century portray the Bidayuhs as people who suffered oppression before the arrival of Rajah James Brooke in 1841.

Malaysian-based New Zealand travel photojournalist, author and photographer Peter Anderson stated in his book Discover Borneo – Sarawak (page 58) that the Bidayuhs almost became extinct in the early 1800s due to their mild, inoffensiveness, and tolerant nature. The Brunei Malay rulers of Sarawak enslaved the surviving Bidayuhs from the Iban attacks, which the Brunei Malays encouraged. The Rajahs brought peace to Sarawak and the Bidayuh have prospered since that time.

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However, one of the White Rajahs did not hold the Bidayuhs in high regard, as stated in Dato Peter Minos’ book; The Future Of The Dayak Bidayuhs In Malaysia (page 15).

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“Charles Brooke did not think very much or very high of the Bidayuhs and thus he described them as having customs and appearance which do not encourage so great an interest in a traveller’s breast as the Sea Dayaks (Ibans). His words implied that the Bidayuhs lacked self-confidence and gregariousness.”

Yup, that… may be true, to a certain extent.

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The following are more excerpts from Minos’ book under the subtopic Attitudes and Characteristics:

“Morality is of a higher standard (than others), their gratitude is undoubted, and their hospitality to strangers well ascertained.” – Hugh Low

“The Land Dayaks (Bidayuhs) have not the bold and arrogant look which distinguishes the Sea Dayaks (Ibans). They are quieter and milder in their habits, and more modest in their dress.” – Odoardo Beccari

“The expression of all classes and of both sexes of these people is that of a subdued melancholy.” – Spenser St. John

Spenser is attributing this to the Bidayuhs past experience of oppression and suppression during the Brunei Sultanate.

“Bidayuh is mild and tractable, hospitable when he is well used, grateful for the kindness, industrious, honest and simple; neither treacherous nor cunning and so truthful that the word of one of them might safely be taken before the oath of half a dozen Borneans (Brunians). In their dealing, they are very straightforward and correct, and so trustworthy that they rarely attempt, even after a lapse of years, evade payment of a just debt. On the reverse of this picture, there is little unfavourable to be said, and the wonder is that they have learned so little deceit and falsehood where the examples before them have been so rife.” – Henry Keppel

“The Bidayuhs, to W.R Geddes, believed in true personal freedom and liberty and were highly independent-minded people who did not like to be controlled or dominated by others or by their own kind, so much so that they were often perceived as obstinate, recalcitrant, and uncooperative”, said Minos in the book.

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W.R. Geddes’ opinion is a slap on my face as that is what I think of myself majority of the time.

“Land Dayaks did not get much attention and encouragement from the Administration (Government) for many years. This neglect was mainly due to competition by other, more numerous and sometimes more troublesome ethnic groups. The Land Dayaks, used to being treated badly by outsiders, tacitly accepted this inferior position, which in turn contributed to the still popular idea that they are a conservative and less energetic
people.” – B. G. Grijpstra

The Bidayuhs today, are they still the same as their ancestors?

Here’s what Dato Peter Minos stated in his book:

“The Bidayuhs regard talking too loudly in public, airing one’s views too openly, pushing oneself and trying to order others around as marks of rudeness and arrogance. To be regarded or said or even perceived to be rude and arrogant in the Bidayuh community is undesirable and demeaning. To the Bidayuhs, a good and respected person is one who talks the least, who does push himself or herself around and who does not annoy or disturb anyone. Being natural adherents of extreme personal freedom and independence, the Bidayuhs tend to avoid those who order them around or who control too much of their lives or who tell them what to do or what not to do.”

In short, we are still reserved, but we definitely are moving forward. At least I think I and some people I know are. The youngsters are definitely pushing the envelopes.

And here are the notable Bidayuhs so far:

  1. Anding Indrawani Zaini, an Akademi Fantasia star, model, actor and singer. He is of mixed Melanau-Bidayuh parentage.
  2. Dewi Liana Seriestha, Miss World 2014 Top 25 and Miss Talent for Miss World Beauty Pageant.
  3. Pandelela Rinong, Malaysian national diving athlete.
  4. Tony Eusoff, actor and model.
  5. Venice Elphi, Malaysian football player, played for ATM FA.
  6. Richard Riot Jaem, Malaysian cabinet minister.
  7. Temenggong Salau, Bidayuh community leader during the formation of Malaysia.

PS: While doing my research (for my own intellectual satisfaction), I noticed that other writers who have written about the same thing also used the same quotes. While this is just a random post, I still want it to be worth referring to by some people some day for some reason.

PS: Dato Peter Minos, a modern and highly educated Bidayuh businessman is now the Chairman of Kota Samarahan Municipal Council

 

Stigmatised Solitude

“Believe nothing just because a so-called wise person said it. Believe nothing just because a belief is generally held. Believe nothing just because it is said in ancient books. Believe nothing just because it is said to be of divine origin. Believe nothing just because someone else believes it. Believe only what you yourself test and judge to be true.” – Buddha

I had a very interesting conversation with a Grab Car driver over the weekend. The nice Chinese gentleman in his mid-40s was very concern with the fact that I am 29, single and living alone, far away from my family. And he did not mean this in an offensive way. In fact, I was cool with his thoughts and opinions.

How it started was he began talking about school holidays and asking what my children are doing. So, I told him I am single. It was an interesting 20 minutes conversation.

He also said something very interesting, though.

“Walaupun lu punya hati banyak besar, lu jangan kasi harapan kepada semua orang. Jangan kongsi sama ramai orang. Hati lu cuma untuk satu orang yang lu sayang. Bunga ada banyak, kumbang pun ada banyak. Tetapi satu untuk satu. Kalau mahu main-main, jangan cari pasangan untuk lu kahwin. Suami cari duit untuk jaga isteri dan anak. Suami bertanggungjawab buat mereka gembira. Kalau lu mahu cari suami, jangan cari yang main-main sahaja. Mesti ada kerja. Gaji kurang dari lu punya pun tidak apa. Sama-sama lu usaha. Saya punya isteri dan anak banyak gembira. Saya dulu ada girlfriend. Dia kerja shampoo girl. Dia cantik oh. Saya banyak sayang sama dia. Tetapi dia main-main sahaja. Lagi pula dia ada banyak tattoo oh. Macam gangster. Ini isteri saya, mula-mula saya tidak sayang dia. Ini kawan punya mak yang kasi kenal sama saya. Orang putih cakap ‘arranged marriage’. Tetapi lama-lama, saya sangat sayang sama dia. Dia kerja office, pandai masak dan jaga anak. Nanti bila anak sudah besar sikit, saya bawa mereka pergi Kuching lah jumpa lu.”

As we age, our priorities shift. Our wants and our needs change. Not only that, our social contacts tend to decrease too. Due to that, many would rather move to the city for better opportunities. Or to live alone in a relatively new environment.

I moved to the Peninsula mainly for educational attainment, meeting my life expectancy, and securing median earnings. Along with that, I also crave for inspirations to write and enrich my intelligence.

Whenever I go home for a short break, people would ask me when am I moving back to Kuching for good. And I used to tell them, “I have no idea. I can’t see it now.”

They have many assumptions as to why I have not planned on moving back. Many assume I enjoy the nightlife, the social life, and the money. They thought I earn double their salaries and am having the best time of my life. Unfortunately, financially, that is not the case. In fact, I am losing more than what I make due to the cost of living and that I am responsible for all of my own bills.

Well, I am going to skip the impressive attributes of this very city. Despite the traffic congestion, I love it here. But I love it because I am happy living alone. I don’t actually live in the heart of the city but, I would not want to live any other way. Because to me, living alone is a collective achievement.

I am a compulsive thinker and I cherish individualism. On a prosaic level, I am self-centred. I prefer to make my own decision although, for certain occasions, I would consult my friends. Be that as it may, I do not like people telling me what to do or what they think I should do. Like roommates or a typical Chinese landlady who pretend she fucking care about my wellbeing.

When you live alone, you are free from the distractions and judgments of others. You can truly be yourself, 24/7, indulging wonderful habits like just being lazy and walk around the house naked.

And living alone is not necessarily an entirely solitary experience. Though many would say that an isolation like this is depressing and horrific. WRONG. Living alone encourages productivity and creativity. Trust me, I know this very well.

It is hard to write or compose something when people are arguing very loudly in the next room. But when you are alone, the calm is glorious and brilliance can strike just like that. You have the time and freedom to explore and work on your passions, to create your magnum opus. And it gives you the ultimate freedom to wind down and relax, helping you to recover from your busy and intense work days.

Yes, sometimes I do feel lonely. Back home I have my parents and four younger sisters. It’s a very noisy house and don’t get me wrong, I love being around my parents and sisters. We could be the next Kardashians if people were to film us. But half the time, I prefer to be by myself. I just value my privacy and solitude over traditional family and societal structures.

But anyways, it is not only being alone that make someone lonely. Many people I know who are not alone feels trapped by feelings of solitude. By lonely in my case, I mean when I am sick, there is no one to look out for me, make soup for me.

Yes, we do have a favourable male-to-female ratio here. But the chances of meeting a life partner or be in a steady relationship is very thin. Instead of being one of the best cities for dating, the big bustling Kuala Lumpur is just another place for hook-ups. Thank you, Tinder. You are one of the perks for urban dwellers and I am guilty of reaping the benefit for a few times.

Women living alone is a trend that is catching fire in our society. And this is spreading all throughout the world, even in Asia. Whether by choice or chance, the number of women living alone is increasing. I personally, find having roommates makes me feel less of an adult. And this leads me to talk about the notion of the ‘singularist’ and the right to have and make that choice.

In a society where marriage is common and has been held up as the ideal, married people misunderstand how singletons experience living alone. When they look at the singletons, they think that there is a sense of failure or that there is something wrong with them. That they are some kind of a loser. Or that maybe they are gay. And they will also tell you to your face that you are going to die a sad spinster.

FAILURE? LOSER? GAY? SPINSTER? Frankly speaking, that is just ridiculous.

Since the last decade, people have been opting if not, happily living the single life, realising that the marriage or partnerships they formed are failing. And today, not only just based on statistics, but based on my observation, a large number of women – career women, specifically – has made the single life a much more attractive option than matrimony with an unsatisfactory partner.

This is not a failure. This is the right thing to do. There is a limit to making sacrifices and trying to work things out. Even being married or in a relationship, you get lonely too. And loneliness is not tied to relationship status. Because emotional intimacy takes work. To assume that marriage or cohabitation is the solution is illogical. If your relationship is on the rocks, you are likely to be less happy than people who are unmarried or divorced.

My best friends since my college days are married. In fact, two are mums now. And one has other priorities she needs to look into for now. They and other people are married are happy in their own terms. What happiness is to them is different than was it is to the singletons. And in my opinion, happiness is subjective because it comes differently for everyone. There are things in life that can make you happy that are subjective. A bottle of Coke, for example, makes me happy while my best friend’s husband prefers Pepsi.

Everyone seeks happiness in their own way. And we all long for meaningful relationships and social connections. Being single and living alone is a form of emotional armour. Being single, one does not have to deal with the anxiety associated with relationships.

But whatever the decision one made – whether to be single or married, to live alone or have roommates, none of us has the right to judge and tell them what is best for them. The ultimate thing to do as human beings is to be happy.

Despite having a bad track record in the man-woman relationship department, as much as I put myself out there, I also stood many people up. I never feel bad about it although it would be nice to have different people to have a cup of coffee with. My love affair with my friends has formed the cornerstone of my life. They matter more to me after my parents and sisters.

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I will not actually bail on domestic life and I do not have a disinclination to settle down. It is just not now to live in and it is not healthy to believe in marriage as the ultimate turnpike to happiness.

At the moment, I am happy living alone without the pairing colour to my monochrome.

Time and the Ambitious Project

No, I’m not talking about my music and poems.

I’ve experienced the convulsion of dealing with my unspoken love for someone and a few doomed love stories but I’ve never experienced a dark adventure of a thrilling ride into the world of terrorism nor fighting for my life in a tsunami attack.

I’ve lost friends (and cut contact with them) due to the different path of lives we all chose to take but I’ve never experienced losing and witnessing the loss of my loved ones to tragic death.

I often go through extreme sadness that would lead me to shut myself from the world for a period of time but I never suffered from multiple personality disorder that will take me over that leads to hurting someone I never meant to.

One’s life to some other people may look interesting and stocked with a riot of laughter. But the truth for some of us is that the life that we live can be eye-grabbing and terrifying at times.

We don’t know what the people around us go through. No surprise that we may not even know what’s going on in the life of someone who is close to us.

When I look at the people around me and get to know them better, I find each and every one of them very interesting. For some, I sympathise, and for the rest, I draw my inspirations from them – mainly for my poems.

Sometimes when I want things to change for the better, I’d hope to get a call from someone who’d help me sort things out. Like telling me what to do, step by step till I achieve something. This rather sounds like a mental delusion, though.

And sometimes when I feel like my life is falling apart and I want to start over, I’d imagine myself living in the era of civilisation that dates back to maybe 2600 BC. No idea why but it somehow calms me down.

Sometimes I’d hope so badly that this is just a movie I’m in based on a novel for some good reasons. And I’m just brought on board to replace someone else who was supposed to be essaying this prominent role of mine.

To many, good things are being delayed for all sorts of reasons. And of course, after having to go through one hurdle after another, we’d all hope that happiness will eventually see the light of day sometime soon.

Whoever that is directing this movie I’m in, we truly have a lot of creative differences.

But life was never meant to be easy for some people. In fact, some of us are meant to deal with the constant worrying nexus between what’s wrong and what’s right in life every now and then.

And people often tell me that God will only give the toughest test to His toughest soldier.

If it was up to me, this movie will come with a template that boasts flamboyant colours – because as important as ‘sadness’, ‘annoyed’ and ‘anger’ is to us as human beings, ‘happy’ needs to come for a visit quite often.

Finding happiness is everyone’s ambitious project. Feel-good quotient in movies is either contrived or excessive. In reality, one need to strike the right note. And to do this, it is very important to surround ourselves with positive people who carry with them positive vibes and who cares about you.

Some of us don’t have much time to live. One’s vivacity and positive outlook in life are very important. To the readers, a person who doesn’t care about you is not as a matter of course a bad person. It’s just that they are not attached to you like you are to them and that’s something we cannot force.

Investing in your time is investing in your life. Do not invest in those who does not care enough about you to invest in you. A person who cares about you will take time for you and he/she will not make you feel bad for taking up said time.

A Wish Your Butt Makes

Farting and burping – I’m no stranger to that. Of course, I try not to do it in public places or at banquets, but I never had to really hold my gas in when I’m with my family and close friends. In a day, I probably produce gas with the equivalent energy of an atomic bomb.

And yes, I’m polite enough to say EXCUSE ME all the time. It is organic. Like passing gas.

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Anyways, I mean passing gas is au naturel, and as human beings, we are all definitely aware of the existence of our butthole and its multifarious functions. And really, farting is one of life’s simple pleasures.

If one is not embarrassed to admit that he/she is okay with another person sticking something in it (anal sex), why hesitate to relax the muscle at the lower end of the rump and allow gas from your gut to just escape?

Let it go. Such bodily function really is a specimen of human perfection. And in my opinion, farts are also vital to the success of any relationship. It truly impacts intimacy. The frontage must crack eventually.

A few weeks ago I had dinner with my three best friends and husbands and a baby. We later went to their hotel room to chill for a bit more. Between discussions and jokes, a husband farted so very loudly that nobody can avoid acknowledging its solid roar! Everyone cracked into a lawless laughter. And it happened twice within half an hour!

Now that’s intimacy. And that’s the beauty of our close-to-a-decade relationship. We are comfortable enough to loosen our corset of civility and just be ourselves. We embrace every flaw, every idiosyncrasy, every irritating habit including every fart (and burp).

Already some of us have problems like lactose intolerance, food taking longer to pass through the intestines, bad metabolism and what not, why torture yourself restricting the locomotion of your breadbasket?

Like wearing corsets and body shapers. Those really bothers me. I detest the idea of wearing them.

Reason being, they increase the pressure on your breadbasket and make it more difficult for the gas to pass along normally which then result in sayyy… bloating (duh) and constipation.

Farting may be socially inconvenient, but it’s good to get rid of this gas. Abdominal pain is no joke. And repressing that monstrous gas of yours for hours can really cause hemorrhoids! A frequent visit to the bathroom due to diarrhea is bad enough, why summon hemorrhoids?

I’m just saying that farting (and burping) should be embraced. And farting (and burping) shows you’re comfortable. If you’re comfortable enough to fart (and burp) in front of a friend, there is truly nothing you can’t do in front of him/her. Farts show you have nothing to hide.

Think about it, in China, you can actually get a job as a professional fart-smeller! And that’s the beauty of farts! They prove that anything is possible. After all, according to health experts, passing gas frequently is actually a sign of good health.

All our lives, we are restricted from farting whenever we like. But really, just let that butt make a wish!

Don’t do it in public places when you’re surrounded by people but do not hold it in. Be kind to your system and find a perfect place to do so.

Whoever is reading this, even if you held the gas in all day, it will escape in your sleep. TRUST ME. You probably farted in your sleep last night – I’m just saying!

PS: Guys, you know girls fart. If you fart, so do girls. A study has proven that when guys and girls eat the exact same food, girls tends to have even more concentrated gas than guys. So, our butt makes more wishes than you. The end.