Great

You kill me over and over again when my motivation is high.

Nerdy Fee

I might be a prooooo procrastinator, but I'm also one of those people who will enjoy something that I'm doing if I do it at the right time with the right attitude.

Now that my mood of completing my issue report is at its peak, I find myself having that awkward feeling of...enjoying what I'm doing. When nothing but the deadline dictates me, I can do it with a smile on my face. I wish normal bio reports are like this one - you get the time to chill and do it whenever you want.

I've done an essay of a boring topic with more than 2000 words when I was 16, it also required a lot of research to be done, so that pretty much tells me that why shouldn't I enjoy my issue report? 

Last but not least, my motivation is currently very high because:

1. I can't recall how many people have been motivating me to complete it. Thank you, thank you to all of you.
2. I get to listen to the songs that I enjoy while typing. Guitar instrumentals and some old band songs particularly.
3. Googling is somehow fun. Reminds me of the times I even googled in Thai language, which makes me so perasan-ly capable of googling and finding the things I need for this report.
4. I learnt so many new things, and I like it because it's not what other people forcefully stuff into my brain. OH WOW THIS IS SO FUN. 
5. and...most important of all, I feel jealous because most of my friends had already done their report centuries ago.

But hey, I'm not even halfway there, so I should get back to it now. :P I will get philosophical next time.

Somebody That I Used to Know

Sorry for misusing the song title, but I guess that's how I felt when I found some old photos and old books...which showed how nerdy I was once upon a time...

Complete history notes, chapter 1 till the end, copied from the textbook.

EST notes copied from the blackboard. So I thought Miss Kho was the fastest
teacher I ever had...not until I entered college I realised I was wrong.

That awesome moment when the sample essay was written by James Bond.

I can't believe I managed to write that neat.

History notes again. No way I can maintain that kind
 of handwriting now.

Ridiculously neat Bio notes. 

The essay I recycled during SPM. I detect a mistake in grammar over there..

History was my favourite subject. 

..and Chemistry too, after I entered Form 5.

The motivation was there. I was really serious about SPM.

...but I also spent some time playing around with the camera.

...and sometimes allowed Kitty to climb my study table. 

Calendar of a nerd.

Bible, dictionary, empty glass, history notes and some random
NBA photos. 

I also had time to read..

..and watch Slam Dunk every evening for 30 minutes.

Sometimes I would take a break and do silly stuffs.

Last but not least, I shall present to you a photo I never revealed anywhere before this. No one outside the house has ever known how my bedroom looks like. Here you go:

On an average day of cramming for SPM...

 I seriously need to be like this somebody again. :/

Emoless Fee

I've just realised that when you start to stop focusing on yourself too much, it's easier to stop focusing on your problems as well.

And that's good.

Not that I've never been told about this well-known fact, but I guess all these while I've been making self-pity as my playground. It stole away my values of thankfulness. 

I admire those who persevere in their problems, those who never seem to seek help from others to make them feel better, those who can act as if nothing's wrong when within them there is something bugging them. 

I remember myself telling a friend in secondary school that not a single person in this world is free from problems, and what's more important is the way we look at a problem, that's what makes us all different. I miss that Fee. Throughout my secondary school life, I always kept my problems to myself. I almost never trusted anyone to make me feel better. That was also the period when I listened to my friend's problems more. I guess that kept me stronger, trying to help someone out of the pit rather than being the one who tripped. 

I guess it's important to note that there are so many people out there needing help when we too feel the need of someone's help. But sometimes we just lose the sensitivity. I lose mine when I think that my problem is more than what my emotions can handle. I regain mine when I see others having their own problems. So I guess my 14 year old way of thinking was correct:

Everyone has their own problems. It's just up to us to see it as something big, or something that should not stop us from living.

Emoless Fee is actually still mildly emo of still not being able to get over her problem, but she now chooses to express it in a way less emofying because there's no point of dwelling in emoness. Hah. I wish I had more sense of humour.

To end this entry, I shall present to you something
that made me laugh out of my emoness some time ago.

Find help if you're not feeling well. It helps a lot. No point complaining that no one understands. No one can read minds. Find the initiative to make the first move, even when you feel you might be judged. Talk to someone you can trust, tell them what's bugging you. I still think it's far better than keeping it to yourself and doing something that would harm you, which in the end will leave people saying "We never knew about this.." I'd rather be embarrassed of my lack of wisdom in handling emotions than doing something that will later make my loved ones cry. Not that I never thought of something stupid like the latter, but we shall get into that topic when I'm ready.

Hold on, put a smile.

Now I know why I have a blogger friend who keeps on posting motivational stuff. It feels gooooood. Aaaa. :)

Housekeepingggg!!

With only a few days left before I leave this place, I decided to do a little bit of changes to my bedroom.

Changes are good.

Especially when you shrink something which was previously double the size.

My 13' x 20' bedroom (Looks more like a small space for jamming) now looks better with more space to dance around. Changing to a single bed also means that I now have a door which can be fully opened without the standing fan blocking the way.

And the highlight of the day would be my clumsiness of spilling about 100ml of Febreze to the floor, which is not cool at all.

At least I did something fun today.

The RJP

I can get overly unrealistic sometimes, but hey, I deserve some fun. Expect more of these kind of stuff, especially at these times when I feel like exploding and I need my attention to be diverted from severe emonism.

Support my album, people. Will be available in stores near to you soon.

Why So Emo?

Whenever I recover from emoness I would finally realise how silly it looks like when you have mild depression and start posting chronic emo entries in your blog. That's why I choose blog, not facebook status. On blog, you can go deep, feel it and reflect about it. Or maybe I should start back writing on a proper diary. Whatever. Either way, it still looks silly. But hey, isn't that part of growing up?

This entry is not going to go anywhere, because I don't know why I ended up here.

Since it's father's day today, I guess my dad deserves some spot in this entry. Haha. (Oh my, I am laughing...). Anyway, yeah, this semester break I've been thinking so much till the point that I actually feel thankful on the way how my dad raised me. I'm not a daddy's girl and at the age of 19 I'm glad I can laugh at that fact. I think the fact that we have so many similarities made us rather incompatible. During my early teen years, I never really understood him. Everything seemed to be so serious back then. I was like super emo. But then college life thought me something I could never had imagine.

There was once during this semester break that I felt like giving him a hug but then I didn't, because that's not what we normally do. But yeah, I don't know when will I have the guts to tell my dad that I love him and I appreciate all that he's been doing in my life. For that very same reason, I'm trying my best to do the best in what I'm studying now, you see, dads often visualise about the future and I would never want to let him down. 

I wish he would come across this entry but that's a very slim chance as he doesn't go blogwalking, so yeah, you who is reading will have the responsibility to tell him about this if anything happens to me in the future. Haha.

Anyway, this break this ending soon and despite the emo moments, there are some good things to think about. I managed to finish a book I recently bought for 70% discount and I'm quite happy that at last I managed to properly finish reading something because it was super good. I've also changed my travel guitar's strings and I'm happy that they don't buzz. 

But but but..I still haven't finished my issue report and that's super embarrassing, especially realising that perhaps I'm the only one who's still procrastinating while others have finished it long time ago.

Ah, it feels good when you make a blog post sound so happy. :D

I Think I'm Angry

I haven't been angry with someone for a very long time.

The last time I couldn't look into someone's eyes because of anger was many years ago.

So I thought I've changed.

So I thought I've learnt a lot.

I'm searching for the word forgiveness in my heart, I know it's there, but I also know it's just me who's unwilling to let it out.

I know I'm the wrong one here for being unforgiving.

And I'm that very same person who asks for forgiveness from God.

Grow up, Fee. Grow up.

When the Feeler Thinks and the Thinker Feels

Perhaps I spent so much time on the road or maybe it's just because so many things happened lately, I see myself in a situation where I am constantly thinking of the things I shouldn't bother about. Or maybe I should. Who knows.

While appearing to be quite open about my problems and struggles which I often vomit out on this blog, I still enjoy being vague and being careful of not telling too much, but you see, if I write it down on paper, there's a huge possibility that people will read what they are not supposed to know, and if I write it in a password protected area or something similar to that, my thoughts will remain stagnant there, so here I am, often choosing this blog as a medium to channel my thoughts because at least someone (who I don't know who's reading) will at least know that there is one human being having this way of thinking and you might find that maybe you agree with me. Or maybe not, well that depends on you. 

I don't know why I am burdening myself with some questions lately.

But I like it. I like finding answers. I like questioning about things. I am often sceptical. Although I like receiving clear instructions and following structured procedures, my mind is often rebellious. I don't agree much with a lot of things. When I appear to be silent, my mind is sometimes full of arguments. I like thinking, I like it as much as I like feeling about things.

So here goes the main question of mine.

Wait, some background introduction.

Semester break. My principles are tested. Or maybe it's just me who's thinking and feeling too much.

Tell me. Why do human beings tend to see other people's mistakes while it is understood that all people sin? I'm asking in the point of view of the one who sees the mistake. Like...you see something wrong, and you're not sure whether you are being judgemental or what, but you have this little feeling of saying to yourself, "I don't want to see myself committing that very same mistake", while the truth is you can never know whether you are going to change in the future, like...maybe you are bound to do the same thing too?

And very often you want to take your stand and do what's right, but there is so much pressure for you to blend in with the normal people. You laugh along, but you know it's wrong. But you did so because you don't want others to label you as being holy or pretentious or snobbish. I want to be different. I see nothing wrong in it, and I think so far (forget about the future) I can handle it because I am not alone, but there is another thing which bothers me very much, it makes me hurt.

Call me dramatic or whatever, I am just being honest. Someone needs to know this. At least. Because maybe you too, are having this struggle.

I'm sad to see some wrong things around me and I can't even do a single thing to make things better. And I know very much that I do wrong things too. That's why I'm questioning too much tonight. I see those who I love do things that I think are not right, but at the same time I know I'm not perfect either, so how is this whole thing supposed to be? Just turn a blind eye? Or try to correct the situation? With the knowledge that you, as well, are not perfect? 

I'm not trying to act good, or maybe I am, but the reason I am thinking of these things is because I can't stand not doing anything when I think I am capable of, at least, sharing some of my opinion about what I think is correct. 

I don't only feel, I think.

And I wonder am I the only one who thinks too much?

Alive and Fighting

Dramatic title.

Just kidding. Well yes I'm tired depressed happy emo full of inspiration and bla bla bla for being away from the internet for another 5 days, I know that sounds like a whole mixture of feelings but yeah that describes me best right now.

Working on a song, almost finished.

When I write a song, I'm either too happy, or somehow emo. Or sometimes in between.

Talk more next time.

I

I will never let you shed a single tear again.

I know I'm not good in keeping promises, but I don't want to see you like this.

You know what? I'm glad I'm different.

I'm glad I'm sensitive.

Because only because of my sensitivity

because of my weakness

because how I think of what others think

I know, I will never want to see you like that anymore.

I'm not perfect.

I may act silly.

I have my own failures.

But I least I have a heart. A heart that is sensitive enough to not hurt someone who loves you more than anything else.

And I thank God for my heart.

I want you to see God in your heart too.

I do not have the rights to judge
but please, why can't you have a little heart?

Regrets

Some things you regret are reversible, you can still realise about your mistakes and make them right, but of course, you'll have to pay the price of your actions. - Philosophy of someone who recently changed the strings of a guitar.

Sorry, this is not an emo post.

One is missing because I used it earlier.

False hope - extra light doesn't seem to be extra light.

Took me more than half an hour to take this thing out :/

Comparison - old string and new string.

So maybe I was too excited,  I couldn't even differentiate between green and black anymore.

YOU KNOW YOU'RE IN DEEEEP TROUBLE
WHEN THIS HAPPENS >< 

 

Finding a pair of pliers is another annoying thing to do. 

Keeping these. Memories man.

(Sadly) the only pair of pliers I found. 

New strings don't feel good, seriously.

There's a few things related to the title of this post, yes I am regretting the fact that I changed the strings. Yes, it's reversible, I can change to another type of strings, or the old ones, but yeah, I don't want to waste a set of brand new strings after just one day testing them on my beloved travel guitar a.k.a boyfriend. I just still don't get the fact on why it says they are extra light. Hmmm. And to make matters worse, the strings buzz and playing barre chords became so torturing.

Oh I need a professional.

The Next Project

Too early to think of, but I guess it's better if I put it here so that I won't forget in the future.

Was wandering around YouTube and discovered a pretty cool video of a dude who took a stroll around his campus during winter. Might sound lame to you, but for a person like me who loves memories, I'm thinking of doing the same too when my time to leave Akasia will finally come. 

At first I was thinking of the song Maybe by Secondhand Serenade as the background music, but found a better one, Take Me Away by Lifehouse, so yeah, basically I'm just going to walk around Akasia on the last day I'm there. 

Talking about memories, my dad said I better write the names of my friends behind every picture that I developed earlier this semester break. The reason is because in years to come, I'd probably forget their names. Sounds illogical, but rather possible - because I can't really remember most of the full names of my primary school friends anyway.

So guess what.

Writing their names was not enough, I wrote the occasions too.

Then writing became so fun and soon I realised behind some photos I even wrote essays.

=.=''

Anyway, back to my future project, I hope it's going to work.

Then in ten years to come when I watch back the video I will have this weird feeling of missing Akasia. 

Woo!

Fee's Musical Journey

It's currently raining cats and dogs at my place, so I guess this weather gives me a nice mood to reminisce and write about something that I never really shared completely in one whole story.

Not long ago a blogger friend shared about her musical journey and it's something I want to do too, haha, because I've just realised that next month will mark the 7th year since I first had my first guitar. And since next month I'll be pretty busy upon returning to the land of far far away a.k.a SA, I'm going to do it one month earlier.

I can't remember at what age did I have my first toy guitar which was bought from a car boot sale, but there's a story behind that toy guitar (I will get back to that in a few paragraphs later).

I was 8 years old when I really wanted to write a song for a friend who was transferring to another school. However, the only musical instrument I had at home was this:

Also bought from car boot sale, in case you are wondering.

and the only musical instrument I could play, was this:

Sorry I can't remember how to play this anymore.

That same year, my school had a choir performance for prize-giving ceremony and there was this some sort of audition in every class. I sang the song Ais Kacang, if I'm not mistaken. Okay this story is not really important anyway, just to tell you here that I didn't get selected while most of my friends did, so that pretty much proved that I can't really sing (Yes, I am aware of that fact). :P

Fast forward the story, I was eleven when I first realised about the beauty of guitar solos after watching the first Thai drama which made me fall in love with Thai music. It was this OST which pretty much gave me the thought of learning guitar:

This is when the old toy guitar came back to life. For almost one year, I was dreaming of buying a guitar and I often strummed on the strings of the toy guitar because it just gave me the happiness of doing so. Gosh that's embarrassing. So if there's something that lead me to finally owning a guitar, I must give credits to that little toy guitar which my mum gave away to a distant cousin when I was in Form 1. (I was too shy to not allow my mum to do so because I was already in Form 1). 

July 2005. I can't remember the exact date, but it was one of the ordinary days when I followed my favourite uncle (back then, lol) to the nearby shop to buy some ice creams (He was not married yet back then so he had tonnes of money to treat me with ice cream). That particular shop sold some Kapok guitars which were hanging right above the ice cream place, so I pointed towards them and made a signal to my uncle (We had a previous agreement of buying one if and only if I manage to get straight As in my UPSR). All I can remember after that is the ride back home on the motorcycle with a shiny, black guitar on my left hand, and RM80 was such a huge figure that made me admire my uncle more and more.

I then bought this for only RM2.50:

Can't remember the exact date I bought my guitar,
but must be like a week before this book.

Not really a guide book, it's just a book with
diagrams of chords, that's all.

I didn't have internet connection at home till the end of Form 3, so basically my first few years was just about playing the usual C-Am-F-G and some songs like Kau Ilhamku (The first song I learnt from another uncle). Talking about learning from others, I must be lying all these while if I said that I didn't have any guitar sifus. When I was in Form 1, my sister's friend came for a vacation and stayed with us for a while, and she was my first guitar sifu who taught me quite a number of random songs. I learnt how to play the intro of Wake Me Up When September Ends haha. Just like some of my friends who called me sifu, I called her my sifu too. She's probably my first motivator who made me continue playing despite having so little chances to improve back then.

I only started playing worship songs when I was in Form 2, thanks to a book with lyrics and chords I photocopied from my guy classmate. It was also the same year when I attended my school's CF regularly, so I pretty much had the chance to observe the senior guy on his guitar in the midst of worship. My other guys classmates also brought their guitars to school quite regularly especially on Fridays, although I was too shy to join, deep down in my heart I really wanted to learn from them and be as skilful as them.

Fast forward to the end of Form 3, right after PMR, that was the point when I really had the chance to learn a lot. There were so many new things I started to learn, like how to tune a guitar properly, played my first solo (Unlovable by Mild) and I finally understood barre chords. I discovered videos of Sungha Jung and dreamt of becoming as great as him (Sad case, will never be). Well I can't be the only one :P

Realising that I needed something better than my Kapok after playing so many Thai songs, I got myself my second guitar in November 2009. For a guitarist who began with a Kapok, it was seriously fun to finally get the chance to play on something easier to press. For that very same reason, I'm quite thankful I started with a cheap Kapok because it gave me the strength I needed over the years. Wouldn't it be more amazing if I straight away jumped to an electric guitar instead? Haha. 

Then in Form 5, I eventually got the chance to play outside of my bedroom when there was a lack of guitarist for my school's CF. I offered to play, but I never understood the meaning of transposing. I had a tough time when the teacher asked me to play in a certain key. Those were my earliest memories of serving, although I became the guitarist only for two times.

We had a keceriaan project for Sivik around July 2010, and that was the first moment I realised that writing a song might be something fun. The great time I had with my classmates inspired me to write and sing something about it, so Thank You for the Day was written in ten days. It was my first ever self-composed song, and I guess that's the beginning of all the songs I've written so far.

When I had to leave for college, I thought that that was the end for my love of playing guitar. But it's quite funny that actually college is just the beginning. It was only my second week in SA when I got the chance to hold someone's guitar (can't remember whose) during one of the earliest prayer meetings (the only thing I remember is that it was at the bus stop). My tendency of showing off despite having lack of skills lead me to playing for the first time during Campus Revo (I still remember my first song, Amazing Grace), and it was one of my happiest moments in college because I was seriously missing my guitar and I had the chance to bring back my senior's guitar to my room (wrong reason to be happy) and abuse it to the max. It was also probably the most expensive guitar I've ever held in my hands. I had another chance to play during CR after that, yes, I still remember the songs, Draw Me Close to You and This is My Desire. At this point I still use the word play rather than serve because my almost zero experience in serving made me unable to differentiate between those two.

Another senior asked me one evening after church if I would like to serve for CA. I saw it as something good to gather some experience, so I agreed. So right after the Raya holidays, I had my first chance ever serving for CA together with some other juniors. It was a priceless experience, but too many compliments can also be something wrong. There were times I did question myself on the reasons why I first wanted to serve in the worship team, and it was my second time serving which caused me to get my reasons right. "We are serving, not performing", said our worship leader, and till now, everytime I agree to serve for a particular week, I make that the main thing in my head.

You see, I am quite a shy person if you really know me. So bringing my guitar almost every week to college was at first a difficult thing to do, and ask me the hardest part of bringing a guitar, I will answer you this: It's kinda embarrassing when you get into the bus (especially when it's full and you have to pass by so many people already on their seats) and you're alone and all eyes are on you. But after some time, I have to admit I'm used to it already. With friends around me, I could even play at the bus stop - did that once as a last minute practice session. (No, no, not showing off although I think it's kinda showing off anyway).

College life also opened the opportunities for me to jam along with a bunch of people, something which I never imagined I could ever do after being a lonely guitarist for many years. Some people already know me as the guitar girl, many classmates have taken photos with my guitar, I've also taken so many photos with other people's guitars, and now, at the age of 19 I don't think I can ever stop playing guitar. My third guitar might be my most favourite guitar and probably the last acoustic, but next time when I have my own salary I will probably buy an electric guitar. Hahaha.

Guitar thought me confidence. It thought me to appreciate myself. It's one of the good friends I have. There were some mean people who labelled me with some hurtful names because I'm a girl who plays guitar (back then people didn't know Taylor Swift yet). So yeah. Guitar is just for anyone who loves it.

A friend who is currently studying music said that true musicians are those who can play and search for complicated chords without any references, but to me, that still doesn't make you a true musician. Not being able to read the taugehs doesn't mean that you're not a true musician. My definition of a true musician is someone who enjoys playing and learning from other people, and no matter how hard it is to improve, a true musician will enjoy whatever he can play because believe me, it was my guitar which taught me that improvement will and does come along with time.

Wah that was long, hope it'll be a good thing for me to read in years to come :P

By the way, there's only two musical instruments that I can play, another one is a traditional one called the engkerumung (not that hard to play..) and in the future I would love to learn the drums, saxophone and one Thai traditional musical instrument called the ranard-ek. Haha.

K bye.

Pictures. Just Pictures.

Ask me to take a stroll around somewhere with a camera(no, not an overpriced camera), and I'll give you something like this:

This, my friend, is called the ruai (Among the few traditional
longhouses which still survives).

Too late to rotate. Meet Carlos the cat.

Hang on there, buddy.

Too late to rotate Part 2

Talking to the Moon

Drummer on the Rooftop

Acting Handsome

One thing I like about going back to my grandparents' place a.k.a the village is not about celebrating Gawai itself, but rather because it reminds me of my roots right at the point when I'm about to begin to forget. It reminds me of why in the first place I chose to study what I'm studying now. It reminds me of the time when I was so motivated last year before flying off to SA. Sometimes, we just need to get back to our roots to visualise what we want in our future. Oh my, why did this post become so emo. Haha.