There's a reason why this country is still holding on. There's a reason why it's still strong regardless of what politicians do to break us apart. This is the reason
tbh, i view Indonesia, Singapore and Brunei as extreme versions of Malaysia. If Malaysia becomes too nationalistic, it will become like Indonesia, if Malaysia is too open for all, it will become like Singapore, if Malaysia only sticks to tradition, it will become like Brunei.
@ChinaPatriot99@mingctay@anthraxxxx All the airlines you mentioned above speak bilingual when there's flight to and fro because those are MALAYSIAN AIRLINES AND THAI AIRLINES. AirAsia is not Chinese airlines you fucking dumbfuck.
@joharighani Kau tahu tak Proton dah 43 tahun,
Perodua dah 33 tahun.
Kita nak protect dua ekor ni sampai 100 tahun ke?
Sampai kiamat ke B40 kena paksa beli Bezza?
One of the most brutal realities of the male experience that nobody talks about is the absolute "affection desert" they live in. A woman can get a hug, a genuine compliment, and deep emotional support from her platonic friends on a random Tuesday. A man can go an entire calendar year without another human being touching his arm, asking if he's okay, or giving him a sincere compliment. We’ve built a society where a man only gets to experience basic human warmth if he is actively providing for a partner. Outside of that, he is completely invisible.
The most terrifying realization a man has as he gets older is that his grace is entirely conditional. If a woman has a career setback, makes a bad financial move, or needs a year to "find herself," she is met with sisterhood, therapy, and endless emotional support. If a man asks for that exact same grace? He is an immediate liability. He is told to step up. His partner's friends will literally advise her to leave him because he's "holding her back." A man is only allowed to fail if he can quietly fix it before anyone notices. The moment his struggle becomes an inconvenience to the people he provides for, the respect vanishes. A lot of men are walking around with the crushing realization that they were never actually loved for who they are; they were just employed for what they provide
My boyfriend could tell something was wrong because I stopped laughing at things I normally would. He didn’t corner me with questions. He didn’t demand explanations.
He just adjusted.
He started picking me up instead of asking me to commute alone.
He made playlists and played them softly in the background when we were quiet.
He’d say, “You don’t have to talk. I just like being near you.”
One night I finally told him I felt overwhelmed, like I was failing at everything at once. I expected him to debate it. To list my achievements. To argue me out of my feelings.
He didn’t.
He said, “That sounds exhausting,” and let me finish every sentence without rushing it. When I cried, he didn’t look uncomfortable. He just passed me tissues and kept holding my hand like nothing about me was inconvenient.
The next day, he still teased me about stealing his hoodie. Still argued about what to watch. Still kissed me the same way.
He didn’t turn my breakdown into my identity.
That’s when I understood something: real love doesn’t flinch when you’re not at your best. It doesn’t shrink when things get heavy.
I used to have a friend who would text me at 2 or 3 am in the morning whenever she was fighting with her boyfriend. Not just quick messages either long voice notes, dramatic paragraphs, “please answer” calls back to back. Even when I had early classes the next day, I’d sit up in bed and respond. I’d talk her through every breakdown, remind her of her worth, tell her she deserved consistency and respect. Sometimes I’d stay up until sunrise just making sure she was okay.
This went on for months. It became normal for me to pause my own rest, my own peace, whenever she needed comfort.
One evening, after a really overwhelming day, I finally reached my limit. I wasn’t okay. I felt anxious and heavy and just needed someone to talk to. It was around midnight, not even that late compared to her usual crisis hours... so I called her.
She declined it.
A few minutes later she texted, “I’m out right now. Can this wait? We’ll talk another time.”
No follow-up. No “What’s wrong?” No checking in later.
That was the moment something shifted in me. I realized I had been showing up for someone who only saw me as an emergency hotline. I was her comfort, but she was never mine.
And that’s when it hit me: not everyone who leans on you plans to hold you back. Some people are used to receiving your energy, but have never practiced giving it. If you don’t protect your time, your sleep, your heart... people will take from it without even noticing.
Being supportive is kind. But support should never be one-sided.
How many Koreans or Knetz have bullied Korean celebrities to the level where they take their own life? Don't they teach you accountability in Korea? If you did something wrong, then own it. Don't play the victim card. You follow rules if you're in our country. Get the fuck off.