Goodbye 2014

Lame title, I know..

It's been a boring year. Yeah, I'm complaining again, I know. A friend phrased how she's doing as "Could have been better, but I'm thankful", which is one perfect way to describe it, I guess. 

Two years ago I was sitting alone in my living room back in Akasia, alone, because all of my housemates were already asleep. I welcomed my new year by writing down some new year resolutions. I still vividly remember that day, the sound of the fan, and the complete silence (no fireworks around). None of the new year resolutions were achieved. Right now I'm just here, in a small green room, had a hearty meal with (half of) my family a few hours back, and I can't say that I'm not happy.

I'm not living the dream, I'm not doing anything significant with my life, but at least this year I have everything that some people out there might be asking for.

I've grown cynical, I've felt that I'm "too righteous, too rigid to believe" this year. It's not the best year in terms of my relationship with people in general. I still struggle a lot even to get out of my house and to be seen by neighbours and family friends. It's a constant struggle but I hope it gets better soon. I'm learning to love myself, my self-image and my weaknesses, but it's a bit hard when you don't even have compassion for the people around you. At some point this year I've lost all my love for people. At some point, admittedly, I believed there's nothing bad about not making any effort to take care of people's feelings. So what if I hate. So what if I say something bad.

Love still wins though. It still wins.

However, I'm not being hopeful in building new friendships. Of course I have new friends, but it's not the thing I cling to the most now. I don't think I'll be clinging to grades too, although maybe I might be upset if my previous exam marks dwindle. Failure is definitely not my biggest fear any longer--it still is scary but it's not as bad as some other things. Another friend told me that "our past shortcomings can come back to haunt our thoughts and emotions." He's speaking the truth, because right now I can talk about it as if it didn't almost kill me, but in a few days I know it's going to haunt me again in a way or another. It's a constant battle, and I'm okay with that, I guess.

There's nothing much I dream to achieve this year. No more "flying", no more big stuffs. Having a terrible cough for weeks makes me realise that good health is one of the things that matter most. Family is too, because having only one day to reunite with all of my family members makes me think of how unappreciative we could be. 

On a happier note, I'm saving up for a violin and if I could still keep the same amount of interest that I'm having since early this year, I'm planning to buy it by March. I could save up for a smartphone instead but having a crappy old phone that lags is an okay thing to live with, since I don't really care about phones anyway. 

I guess that's all I have to say. It's not an important, philosophical post. It's just something that I would love to reread and cringe at next year, I guess. Happy new year, and honestly I'm too scared to hope for anything good in the future, but I hope next year won't be too bad for you and me.

Thanks for sticking with me even after all that had happened, even after I cursed like shit. I'll try to be a better version of myself, not for you to like me, but for me to like myself and not feel inadequate when seeing any of you guys next time. I have no idea on who's reading (I ditched the tracker thingy about a year ago!) so yeah, you're counted, if you've read this final paragraph.

Hey, Hey It's Fine

Every single day I just can't stop thinking what kind of monster I have become and I can't just tell myself that "Hey, hey, it's fine."

I mean...who would have thought that being bad is actually not easy.

I tried being good once. It was hard. So I thought being bad is easier.

It's not. It's so hard to live with guilt. It's harder than being trampled on for being nice.

2014 is ending soon and I still can't figure a single good thing that I've done this year. Makes me sad that I wasted one whole year by hurting so many people around me, and I wish I had the guts and humility to say sorry.

But no, I'm too proud to admit I was being an ass unpleasant person.

Day 39476970. Still feeling guilty about the college incident. Still not having any guts to get back to school next year. Still regretting that I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

I Feel Like Writing..

I've been blogwalking on my own blog (oh, how narcissistic..) and I realised that time really passes by so quickly.

Thespeechlessdustbin has been a blog with redundant posts about failure, disappointment, and depression. 2014 is almost ending but I strongly think that nothing will ever change--not at least in one or two or three years. The pessimist inside of me (yes, it's inside me, not just a side of me) says that this will continue to be the dustbin of my emotions.

Since I'm in a good mood to write tonight, I guess I'll just write whatever that comes into my mind.

First of all, I'm quite happy with the pathway that I've chosen.

By saying the pathway, what I truly mean is that I'm happy with my current life goal. Four to eight years ago my goal was to become a doctor, and now I no longer give a shit about that life goal. Shows how much I'm not fit to become one in the first place haha. For that, I am actually thankful that the road suddenly changed direction.

However, I admit that I am frequently disturbed by the guilt that I'm sure I'll have to carry for the rest of my life. Guilt number one is the taxpayers' money. I scold myself every single night for this and I still can't get over it. Guilt number two is that I'm getting older and I wasted my years. I no longer feel guilty for disappointing my parents, which is good, because I know they love me no matter what my achievements are. I just have to stay like me (ie. dont kill myself, don't do drugs, don't follow a bad guy etc.) and one day I can show them that their sacrifices are worth it.

And what I'm not happy about is that my current environtment is really testing my patience. If last time, in Intec, my main concern was about finding my self-worth, waking up everyday to not feel like a loser, well now, it's a complicated business. Now my concern is more about the people around me. How I struggle each day to dodge through people who I'll never understand. And right now my true struggle is to shut up and try to be a wallflower instead of a smartass because I admit, each day I struggle to not feel superior. Heard of a quote saying that "If you think you're the smartest in the room, you're in the wrong room"? Well that's enough to make me feel that perhaps I chose the wrong place.

I'm not saying that I'm the smartest. But then each day I struggle to not start a debate with a tutor, to inform them that they got the concept wrong, to remind them that they give breaks for tooooo long per class, and I pay for the class man, so just teach and don't cheat on my money. I want to correct them nicely when they say "independence" instead of "interdependence" and I often feel restless in class. The girl next to me is watching a Korean show on her phone. The class is wild. No one wants to learn.

No wonder Mike Rosenberg dropped out of school when he was 16.

And there were two main highlights of last semester (that recently ended) which really broke my heart and caused me to analyse my thoughts.

Number one, I gave a negative evaluation to a tutor. Evaluations are supposed to be confidential, but not this one. I literally bashed a tutor and they wanted to know my identity. Who would've thought that I could be so heartless? It's been weeks and I still bash myself for being so stupid and senseless and heartless for being too honest.

I almost apologised personally during the last class, but the tutor bashed me back openly (in a subtle way of course) so I changed my mind.

Now I've made not only one, but two (and possibly more) enemies in college.

Another tutor badmouthed me saying that I'm a snobbish person who thinks I'm too smart to be in that college, which I find amusing and stupid and pure evil at the same time. However, deep down, (not really deep down), I'm pretty confident it was partly because of the evaluation incident, so deep down (again, not really deep down), I think I deserve being badmouthed anyway.

So this tutor accused me of reading a book while he was teaching.

Again, other people were playing with their expensive phones, some were staring blankly at the wall, and I, who put some effort to listen, check the facts from the textbook, and copy, was the bad person. How unfortunate.

And day by day I listen to friends who talk about friends and how friends are rude to a tutor while friends themselves are rude. Dang. The cycle. That cycle.

Enough with the story of the semester. It still makes me examine my morals though, to be honest. I truly regret that I gave the negative evaluation, I really do, but I hate them, I hate the system, I hate the politics for betraying my rights to be heard and my rights to remain confidential as agreed beforehand. So I'm trapped in between pretending that I don't know anything (or I don't give a damn) and I know my mistakes and I should humble myself, apologise, and we should live happily ever after and I could graduate well from that place and be the kid who pleases everyone.

But then this past year has shown me how innocence and any attempts to be humble might actually harm an individual. Sometimes I feel like I've lost all of my innocence and nice thoughts about people. How I wish the people here are like the people in Intec.

So yeah, I'm a lot more heartless now. It would be weird to meet up or catch up with Intec friends because I no longer feel like one of them. I'm actually scared, but I'm trying my best to just ignore all these stuff. I no longer know myself. It's confusing.

Other than that, there's actually not much of any other updates. It's a boring journey but I'm tyring to make it interesting and remember that I'm lucky to have the time with my family.

I'd welcome any thoughts or opinion about my situation if any of you think that I shouldn't have done what I've done. Help me become a better person. Help me to learn from my mistakes. Help me to live a peaceful and happy life.

Sorry, I just had to make a stupid joke.

December Book Haul

First of all, I'm excitedddddd because my holiday has just started. Exam was OK then ended in a terrifying way (I didn't study hard enough for the last paper, I admit) and now I am no longer confident of getting the cash I always dreamt of if you get into the Dean's List. Bye bye keyboards (the musical instrument, not the one you use for typing).

Anyway because of exam (and the absence of my third sister who always became my driver), I had to postpone my plans of going to this book fair which actually started a few weeks back. A bit sad to think of because I'm sure all the good and popular titles must have been purchased by those who visited earlier.

I kept a mindset about budgeting before setting off (I need to save up for Passenger's gig, remember?) so that I could stop becoming that reckless book buyer I used to be. I've decided that life's too short to buy books recklessly (no, the main thing is that MY ROOM IS TOO SMALL) so I need to choose wisely or else I'm going to be one of those book hoarders. 

After a lot of reckless grabbing and emotional let-it-go's, I ended up buying:

What people did not know: I had to let go The Kite Runner, Water for Elephants, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, Harlan Coben hardbacks, lots of potential books I failed to discover because I didn't have enough time to search all of the piles--which is one big sad case.

I'm not that sad though. The Kite Runner and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time weren't in really good conditions. I wasn't so sure I'd be enjoying Water for Elephants. And all three can be easily found in Popular bookstores anytime I want if I'm really interested to read them in the future. The hardbacks were still quite pricey (OKayyyyy 10 bucks ain't pricey, but then if I get 10 of them I'd be spending 100 bucks...)

So...I think the ones that I'm really happy about are A Painted House, The Lovely Bones, and Atonement. Andddd Skipping Christmas is in excellent condition (almost illogical to be second-hand!), my mum said maybe it was a Christmas present and the person didn't like it hahaha my mum is the wisest person on earth. It was so beautiful and it's almost Christmas, so yeah, I just had to buy it.

A Painted House is actually a book that I've read before one year ago in Intec (Thank you, Intec library!). It left me with a bittersweet ending so it's like one of the most beautiful books I've ever read. I thought I should own a copy because, er, it's like one of the most beautiful books I've ever read. Genius idea, right?!

I don't know from where did I first heard about Atonement but then I've always been curious about it. And The Lovely Bones is like always appearing in Goodreads' Listopias so yeah why not.

One Perfect Day is one of the books in my to-read shelf on Goodreads. To be really honest I don't know how did it end up there. I don't even remember when and why did I save it.

The Iliad and The Prince is just one of my stupid efforts to look smart and well-read. Two bucks each, so yeah, just in case I turn into one of those kind of people who reads these kind of things..I better just store them up. It's really hard to find titles like these in my place anyway.

Reading about Writing, British History, and Tales of Mystery and Terror weren't planned but kind of sparked a lot of interest in me (most important of all they're all cheap, 3-5 bucks each) so I decided to just grab them. Reading about Writing was written by a professor from Rutgers, it's quite an old book but then the contents are really interesting and insightful.

British History is a small fat book with a chronology of historical events that happened in Britain since the beginning of time. Sort of like a mini dictionary, and a TL; DR history book. Fun fun funnn.

Tales of Mystery and Terror is a collection of stories written by Edgar Allan Poe. There's this dude on my facebook whom I got to know from a forum donkey years ago (we almost became college mates, I still kept him even when we didn't end up in the same college because I ditched that one for Intec), who seems to be really interested in the works of Poe. So..because I think this dude is cool, I should also check out his favourite author. I know, I'm weird, but then who doesn't check out something because someone else likes it? Haha. The front cover is so damn scary but I'm trying to be brave and put the book far away at night.

I'm quite happy that I found good books today wheeee and there will be one more book fair before the year ends. I feel like going back to this same book fair before it ends because somehow I think I missed a lot of titles in piles that I didn't search though. I'm jealous of those who could go to the Big Bad Wolf sales but then if you can't get what you love, you learn to love the things you've got!

Sorry, I just had to insert those Passenger lyrics in everything that I type.

Reality Hit Me

I was talking with my mum a few seconds ago when suddenly I thought of something that I've never thought of before. Or maybe I have thought of it, but never really given it a time to ponder upon.

I've been living in two worlds.

I might have also lived in many worlds.

To put it in a more comprehensible picture, my life has generally been divided into:

• At Scotland (sweet childhood memories) and after Scotland. (a mixture of both good and bad memories).

• At Wira Jaya (all fun and play) and at Semenggok/Penrissen (adolescence and exposure to real-life drama/overly dramatic people).

• At Intec (where life was hard but the people were the best on the planet) and after Intec (where I'm back to the Semenggok/Penrissen phase of life).

• Also not to mention MRSM where my first failure in life occured.

So that's all in all like seven worlds but some are overlapping and I don't know how to explain it.

And what makes me post this post is that I've failed to realise all this while that:

• I've been knowing the richest of the rich circle of friends (I'm talking about financially rich) and I've also known friends who are in the opposite situation.

• I've mixed with the smartest group of people in the nation, almost elite, and now I'm mixing with average achievers who are looked down upon, and I've seen some who don't even care about their grades, skipping classes, not doing assignments, dropping out and all that.

• I've mixed with the most courteous, most friendly circle of friends, and I've seen school gangsters burn rubbish bins, had a cigarette butt accidentally thrown only millimetres away from my eyebrow, and now I'm sort of living the thug life once again where I feel almost insecure of walking alone because most people are far from being courteous.

• I've heard stories of happy families, where mum and dad loves friend A so much, and I've heard stories of really not-so-happy families like friend B who has parents who don't really care about her education, or friend C whose dad remarried when she was 12, or friend D who has cut marks all over her arms, and friend D who once ran away from home. I can go on writing this list until forever. And it's barely been half a year that I've been enrolled in this new place, but many has opened up to sad sad stories.

Reality hit me that probably I came back to this old life because I didn't learn enough. I didn't open my eyes enough and I wasn't qualified to continue living the Intec kind of life where everybody seemed to be a good diverse mixture of what makes a utopian society. And the world needs bridges. The world needs people who know how to both respect those who are damn rich and damn poor. The world needs people who know not to say that rich people are arrogant and poor people are lazy. The world needs to know that we just have to respect the happy, respect the sad, respect the mentally-ill, respect those who try hard to achieve their almost impossible dreams--and if you can't respect, if you can't say a good thing out of it, learn to not give a damn. 

What am I really trying to say here? I don't know. I just feel that some people haven't seen enough of two worlds. I haven't seen enough of two worlds. And the longer I think about it, the more I hear myself say that if this is what it takes for me to stop living in my own fear, then maybe the idea of living in many worlds is a good one after all. You don't need a special programme to join in order to meet new acquaintances who face many weird things in life. It's just you, going through many levels of life, many worlds in one life, like a wild traveller who greets people along the way.

Maybe that's what life is all about, like Tetris Battle where you can always get up to another level--and also get back to the previous level if you haven't learnt enough to overcome your current level. In Tetris Battle you don't die. The game never ends--it only ends when you stop playing altogether and delete the game from your Facebook account.

It's almost illogical to go up, up, up in Tetris Battle. In one point of the game, there will be a time where you'll fall back to the previous level. And it really is a pain in the nerves. But when you've gone though both levels, you'll know that the whole game is not so bad after all.

I haven't written crap like this for so long.

Achievement Unlocked

I boarded a bus alone today. I mean..I boarded a city bus alone..from the city centre..alone..I mean in a crowd of strangers.

I used to go to school by bus for six years. Buses are cool. Buses makeyour soul feel liberated. Creaky old city buses I mean. Not the kind of air-conditioned buses I used to hop on in Intec. 

It's been a tiring week but I think this bus day really made me feel good. 

I know, I sound drunk.. Forgive me. I just miss having the feeling I had in SA--the feeling that I am old enough to take care of myself without troubling my parents.

I admit I miss being alone and not feeling awkward or scared of being alone. It's very hard to do so in my current uni. No one wants to be alone because the alonekid (I say alonekid because I don't want to say lonely)  will be called a freak. People start asking you whether you're okay when you're alone. It's like going to high school all over again..with all the stupid childish dramas and gossips. Dang, I'm going off-topic again..

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy, I really am. I just needed to rant because I have a PhD in Rantingology.

Avoiding the World

We shook hands. We finally shook hands after about 4 or 5 times I've successfully avoided him in the course of a year.

A year! And I thought I could get away with it.

This time there was no more running away. No more place to run, because I wasn't at home. I didn't have my room, my haven, my magic little mousehole.

Smile and shake hands, I told to myself. Just smile and get ready for the ultimate question.

Oh, ARE YOU BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS? 

I knew it. I knew it. He was going to ask this.

Back then, the question that I hated the most in college was "When are you going back home?" which was frequently asked before any short holidays. And the answer was always, well umm, "I'm not going back."

ARE YOU BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS? is now officially my new most hated question.

>Sending a birthday wish to an old acquaintance:

Me: Happy birthday!

Old acquaintance: Thanks! Are you back for the holidays?

>Bumping into an old classmate's mum at a Sunday market (out of all places...)

Me: *smile*

Woman: OH YOU'RE BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS??

>Seeing an old relative who I avoided for one year:

Me: *Shake hands* 

(Let's call him grandpa..): ARE YOU BACK FOR THE HOLIDAYS?

Then haha, of course I had to do some explanation. Did I tell you that the world doesn't like short answers? They're never satisfied with short answers!

Where are you now then?...

What course are you taking?...

What really happened?...

And I find my brain developing new theories about this person who I'm talking to. I analyse his face. I recall his past judgements. I weave all of these thoughts together like I'm weaving a traditional mat. Let's call this whole business as a mental presumption. 

I recall him sitting at one of the sofas in my home, talking about an uncle who is gay. Or who he assume is gay. I recalled how he made his theories about failed parenting, and I could sense the sneer in his voice as he said how gay this uncle is.

I recall him frequently asking about a failed marriage which occurred to someone close in my life. How he crafts his questions carefully to get answers but never providing anything beneficial. No advice, no nothing. All I ever heard was judgement by judgement. A thousand little hypotheses, zero solutions. Zero compassion.

I shook his hands. 

I still shook his hands.

But my mind was wandering.

She must've had a boyfriend.

She must've had too much fun.

She wasn't so bright after all.

She mixed with the wrong kind of people.

If he could sneer at a homosexual, if he could sneer at a marriage that failed, he could absolutely sneer at me.

And that's not important.

I thought those who spoke God's words, read God's words, and spread God's words ought to show compassion, but all that I'm seeing in this past one year is that what you show is not always what you practise. 

"Oh, come on, he's only human", you'd say.

Oh well yes he's only human and he fails just like I do.

But you get the gist here, don't you?

Forgive me if this sounds offensive, but here's what it is:-

This is why some people avoid the world.

This is why some people avoid the Church.

What have we done today, that made people shy away from accepting what we call God's grace?

I ain't no expert, and to be honest I haven't been talking much about what I've kept so long in my heart. But really, if we focused more on being a friend instead of merely evangelising to a friend, maybe people would see religion as something spiritual, and not just something about sneering at and correcting others.

I admit, I am a stubborn human being. I hate being corrected unless people correct me with a little pinch of compassion.

So I avoid the world, and I don't know when will I stop running.

I'd probably even bump into a relative 6 or 7 years from now and still find them asking me:-

"Which hospital are you working at??"

I promise I won't be shocked.

Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again...

27

Recognition

I was sitting in the middle row listening to my lecturer talking about 'recognition' and how being successful can make people admire you, praise your parents, and look at your possessions (brands of handbags were described in details) while pondering about how good it is to be you.

I was obviously annoyed.

If that is the definition of success, and if that is the sole purpose of being successful, then I'm afraid I don't want to be successful. 

What is life? What is success? Why do we chase it? Why do we spend so much to chase it? Why do we want to feel that sense of superiority? Why do we participate in the endless stupid game of trying to be the first in the list, to be the top among the rest, to feel the guilty satisfaction when we hear that we are in a better position compared to someone else?

I don't know what has happened to me, but I've quit thinking about living a 'professional' life. The life all of our parents want to see us in. The life that everyone admires. I've never felt this way before, to be honest. All my life I've been studying really hard on school to get to that place where I can gain recognition. And now, all of a sudden, I have a weird, strong desire to become a hippie. Or whatever you call a wanderer who is liberated from a world that is heavily politicised and monetised. 

I think I have a small modern nomad in me. And it's growing day by day. And it was dormant before I reached 21. To be honest I don't see much about what this town has in store for me. I don't know if I have any friends here and I'm the least popular member of the family when it comes to family friends. It seems like an easy place to leave. And I have a restless heart that doesn't seem to feel like being conformed in a structured system where not everyone's needs can be catered. I don't know how long can I survive this world if I don't stop realising that it's just the way this world works. Gotta deal with it, suck it up, they say. 

I don't believe in recognition. Public figures can mess up. Success can be snatched away in a matter of minutes. It's about time that we stop education our children that success equals to recognition. It's scary to think of the whole human population using money just to chase more money for the sake of praises. I don't like the truth that it's a common mindset in my neighbourhood, in my town, in the people of my ethnicity. 

It's a weird world, isn't it? People frown upon those who freely chase their passions but worship those who 'purchase' recognition.

Recognition does not equal to superiority and the titles you carry in your names.

I always tell people that my ultimate goal is to jam on a rooftop. It's not. Day and night I keep on thinking of the day when I can stop relying on my parents. I don't want any recognition from their friends and cousins. I just want to be able to support myself and not rely on them forever.

Which also means I must not mess up.

What's the big deal?, you say. Well, it is a big deal. I can't afford another mistake. Literally. Ain't nobody got money fo dat.

So screw recognition. Ain't nobody got time fo dat. 

Why I Love Passenger

First of all...

I don't think they used the meme correctly, but who cares, it's
the message that matters.

Hello lovely (and not so lovely, uninvited) readers! For the sake of keeping this blog alive, I'll be talking about something that I seldom talk about with anyone else (because it's so hard to find other 'Passengers' here).

It was one evening in August 2013 when I first heard Let Her Go in the car. I remember the date. And the occasion. But I don't think I need to be specific about it. I immediately made a note on my phone, typing down one line of the lyrics so that I could look it up when I get back home.

I remember watching the music video on YouTube for the first time. I remember being surprised that I've never heard about this Passenger guy. Or maybe I thought it was a band? I don't remember.

Then I kept on listening to Let Her Go until I could remember the lyrics. The second song that I discovered was Feather on the Clyde. It was so special to me. One of the most vivid childhood memories that I have is the ice creams I used to buy at Clydebank on weekends. I don't remember whether it was at the shopping centre, or some sort of a roadside, but I remember being excited if we were going to Clydebank. The ice creams were special because I could choose the toppings, and I always chose the coloured sprinkles.

Feather on the Clyde talks about being "as helpless and as hopeless as a feather on the Clyde"

Well I would swim but the river is so wide

And I'm scared I won’t make it to the other side

Well God knows I've failed but He knows that I've tried

I long for something that’s safe and warm

But all I have is all that is gone

I'm as helpless and as hopeless as a feather on the Clyde

I was feeling exactly the same. And it felt so much better knowing that there's a song describing your exact feelings. I decided to search for more. I got myself the whole album and listened to every single track until my playlist returned to the first track. 

Whispers was released not long after that. I was a miserable person, wasting my life by feeling miserable about life. I was constantly angry. And Whispers helped me to release my anger because yelling out the final few lines is a must.

Everyone's filling me up with noise, I don't know what they're talking about

Everyone's filling me up with noise, I don't know what they're talking about

Everyone's filling me up with noise, I don't know what they're talking about

You see all I need's a whisper in a world that only shouts.

Basically the whole lyrics gave me the feels. You know when everyone keeps on stating their opinions and shoving them down your throat, and expect you to listen and follow while you're the one who has been trying out so many alternatives and knowing that they don't work. Well, I was feeling that way.

(This is going to continue as a long, emo post. I'm sorry, thespeechlessdustbin is an emo blog.)

I began to listen to my playlist attentively, like reaaaaalllly listen to the lyrics, and I was surprised to discover Life's for the Living had beautiful lyrics that I did not notice earlier on.

I hate to keep on admitting that I was suicidal, but the truth was, well, I was. No matter how happy I could get, the feeling never left me entirely. Listening to this song wasn't the ultimate cure, it's not like it was some sort of magic, but it was (and it continues to be) one of the things that remind me that this "life is for the living, so live it, or you're better of dead." The visual imagery of this song is something so real in my head. I could see the widow with her hand to the sky and a mist in her eye. I could see myself trudging down the highway, and sleeping in a disused car, "with a mattress of leaves and a blanket of stars." I cursed about how sick I am about this town because it took my dreams down. 

And then I stopped feeling angry, because I've never felt so much anger and melancholy when singing a song.

I came to terms with the things that happened when I listened to Things That Stop You Dreaming. Again, it's not like it was magic, and it wasn't something with an immediate effect. 

I've got no money in my hands or my coat or my pocket

Wont get to space cos I haven't got a rocket

But I've air in my lungs, eyes in my sockets

And a heart that beats like a tap that leaks

What more could I ask for? I feel ashamed of myself when I can't stop comparing my life and possessions with what other people are doing and what they have. I told my ex-housemate that it would be a lot easier if all my Facebook friends were farmers. I wouldn't be seeing vacation photos. I wouldn't be seeing them having good times with a bunch of friends who used to be my group of friends. Oh believe me, the feeling was so damn painful. But now, I can think positively about it. I always picture myself as being lucky that I can see the world by only sitting in front of my laptop, wearing pyjamas, and I'm a lot happier of being happy for my friends instead of feeling sorry for myself. I can learn to love the things I've got, and learn to be the things I'm not.

The next one is Scare Away the Dark. My favourite part of the song is when Mike says "If we all light up we can scare away the dark." It's a very simple phrase, but I equate darkness with depression. I've taken it a bit out of context from the song, but I'd like to think that the only way I can scare away the dark is to light up. 

Well those are the reasons why I love Passenger. Of course because he personally replied to me on Facebook too. He has many other songs talking about love and specific stories of the people that he met. I once played his songs in the car for the whole 5 hour journey back to my grandparents' place (because I hate local radio stations). My dad loved the song Holes and I think my mum loves Scare Away the Dark because of its catchy "Oo, oo, ooo ,oooo" part. And my favourite sister loves Things You've Never Done so much, she keeps on repeating that song. 

Mike Rosenberg had been playing music for many years by busking. He had a small circle of fans, and many current fans do not know him before Let Her Go was a hit. He never went to college. His song 27 that he wrote when he was 27 describes his frustration about being 27 and not achieving anything big. I love stories of people with humble beginnings. And I'm glad I found his music when I was at the lowest point of my life.

I think I've never been so obsessed with a single artiste before. I always only listened to songs and not feel so much of the need to like the artiste or band. This time it's different, maybe because of the emotions involved. Right now, one of my dreams is that if I ever get to attend my first concert, let that concert be Passenger's.

And well, let me end this post with Holes.

Well sometimes you can't change and you can't choose,

And sometimes it seems you gain less than you lose,

Now we've got holes in our hearts, yeah we've got holes in our lives, 

Well we've got holes, we've got holes but we carry on. 

Wanting Things

It's hard to have so many wants. It's hard when everything is never enough.

One year ago, on this day, I faced one of the most life-changing experience in my life. It's hard to say whether I'm over it or not. Sometimes it feels like it's a big lie to say you can completely forget a bad experience. It doesn't move away. It's just you who gets busier and eventually have less time to think about it.

Lately I've been having the thoughts of things I always wanted but never had the chance to get. All my life I've been always wanting things. The last time I felt this way was when I was in secondary school. I kind of stopped feeling this way when I left home, but coming back home seems to amplify it more.

I always compared myself with my friends when I was younger. Friends in school had cool stuffs - stylish phones and gadgets, chances to attend cool stuffs, music classes, all those things you really want as a teen. I used to question why I never get the chances that I crave for. I stopped questioning after I left school.

I don't know why is this feeling coming back to me. The feeling of wanting things but never getting it. But now it seems to get bigger. Last time it was about gadgets and items, now it's more about life chances. Opportunities. Wanting to be accepted. Wanting equality and not a single experience with injustice. 

But the more I want it all, the more I see others gain more. The more I feel that I've lost more than I have gained.

I see people who get what they don't really want but I'd kill to get what they have gotten. Sometimes I picture myself being in their positions. Surely there is someone out there who'd be looking at me that way too, I guess. It's so wrong to grumble but sometimes I just end up thinking of it.

Today I'm just angry. You know after a bad thing happens to you, you just want to get better. You always want to keep on achieving...because that's the only way you get to feel alive. And you say you don't want to live just to prove things to others, but hell, that's the thing. You always want to keep on proving that you can do it. And that makes it tougher.

Because you start to see that people will make your journey tougher. We humans are disgusting beings who think that we are threats to each other. We get paranoid when others do better. And the worst thing is when we try to drag someone to the bottom, without any reasons at all. We judge before we listen to their stories.

I hate educators who ruin a student's life. I really hate them. People say doctors deal with huge responsibilities - but if I died in the hands of a screwed up doctor, that would be the end of my story. Educators can screw up too, especially by practising injustice and that's going to screw up a student's life forever. You think it's a small case? Yeah, small case it is then. But the psychological effect is daunting. One or two marks might mean a lifetime to a student, especially to someone who has learnt that a single stupid mistake can cause a few years of her lifetime. And a lot amount of money. And a loss of many other life opportunities. And even worse, a whole lifetime.

Life is not unfair. God is not unfair. It's the people around us who keeps on making unfair decisions, and the worse part is when they're proud of it and they think it's just a small case. I used to have a teacher who told the class that "being fair is good, but tough", and I respect him for admitting that he can't be fair all the time and he's uncomfortable about that fact.

On a lighter note, I really want a new phone but I don't think I want it that much. 

On a serious note, I can't believe it's been one year. Maybe that's why I've been feeling crappy today.

My feelings are damn complicated.

August

Oh boy I couldn't believe I didn't even write a single thing here for nearly two months. It feels so good. It feels so much better to stop relying on my blog and start talking to real people more even if it's only through the Internet. 

The past two months haven't been easy but I'm thankful I have good music to listen to, a friend who talks to me daily, a sister who drives for me because I still can't drive, a place to keep me busy, so yeah, I guess my life feels like moving all over again after a very long pause.

I'm officially a Passenger fan now (a.k.a a 'Passenger'), especially after Mike replied to me. You know after all that I've been through, it feels surreal that I can feel so much happiness in the past month. It makes me so glad that I didn't take my own life last year. It's true that I'm still dealing with all sorts of insecurities but I no longer have the the thoughts of harming myself and I hope it stays that way long enough so I can enjoy the beauty of life and write more songs and hopefully live long enough to see Passenger live.

I want to stop living to please people and try too hard for people like me. I no longer care if I lose friends just because I'm not smart enough, or not holy enough, not Christian enough, or because I once flunked in my life. It's easier that way. I've learnt to let go so many things and now I can say that I'm happier compared to the last time I blogged here. I hope I stay happy long enough.

So yeah, that pretty much sums up everything that I've been up to. I no longer think the world needs my explanation about what happens to me. The world doesn't owe me anything so likewise, I don't need to explain to anybody about anything or prove to anybody about what I can do and cannot do. 

Right now I just got to learn to stop procrastinating and everything will be fine...

and I also need to save up some money in case Passenger will really have an Asian tour...

Of Dreams and Fears

I dreamed last night. It wasn't a nightmare, but part of it was scary.

I dreamed that I broke my leg. I'm not sure whether I am a superstitious person, but truth be told, I actually Googled the meaning of it. (Yes, I should not be admitting that, I know.)

I'm tired of all these shitty dreams. Last year, I dreamed that I lost my luggage. Not once, but several times. I dreamed that I missed my flight.  And I start having sleep paralysis that I never remember having during my school years. 

I haven't gotten over many things. You think you've moved forward sometimes but the truth is you just choose to ignore problems instead of to solve them. Then you've taken so much of your time ignoring and pretending, it becomes some sort of a habit to keep on doing it. When you look back, it seems that nothing has actually changed at all. Sitcoms, books and music really help but it won't help you forever. 

I keep posting stuffs and deleting them because I fear people will hate me for what I've become. Sometimes I really want to tell the truth to everyone, but I'm afraid of seeing the outcome of my actions. And after watching a video on YouTube about how social media won't actually help you but harm you, I decided to take a step back from blogging and posting updates on Facebook. It's never too safe to reveal matters of the heart for the world to see. I've become sort of paranoid maybe. 

People keep on asking me why am I not taking any steps forward. Why am I not going for this, for that, and what's my next plan? What are you planning to do? Can you think of any feasible plan at the moment?

I wish I could tell them the reason why I don't want to keep in touch with too many people is because I want to avoid these questions. I even avoid seeing my relatives. I avoid ex-schoolmates and teachers at all costs. I avoid my neighbours. I don't want any questions, and I don't want any false sympathy either. You'll never get what it feels like until you've had the same thing happen to you. Sure it's not the end of the world, yes there are bigger sufferings in this world, and I should be thankful for many other things that I have. But it's still something you never want to experience.

I have my own reasons for everything. I wish I could tell you so easily, but it's not something easy to do. 

Why am I wasting the years of my life. Why am I treating myself as if I was never someone who believed in my own capabilities. 

I hate the fact that I believed in so many lies told by others and by myself. Yes, I put some amount of blame on others after what had happened. But then I realised that it's not what I'm supposed to do. I'm the one who is to be blamed. And that makes it hurt more. In the end I just find myself having days where I blame myself and blame others equally. Not a healthy thing to do, I know. But again, what if this happened to you? Would you respond differently? 

If there's one thing that I want to tell the world right now, I really want to tell how does it feel like to have experienced failure. It makes you feel lonely at times. You want to keep in touch with many people and catch up with old classmates and friends but you have to risk the situations where you'll be asked on what are you doing right now. It's not something comfortable to talk about unless you believe that the person really cares and not just being curious. It's like having a broken leg because you climbed an apple tree to steal the apples. Or being gay. Or getting pregnant at 15. You just don't want to talk about some things, and in the end you just stop talking at all.

If you happen to be reading this, please don't leave a comment. No, I'm not playing the reverse psychology thingy, whatever that means. I just need a place to speak, using my own real identity, without having to know who is reading. It lessens the loneliness and the fear of being judged. 

*

Well I’m sick of this town, this blind man’s forage

They take your dreams down and stick them in storage

You can have them back son when you’ve paid off your mortgage and loans

Oh hell with this place, I’ll go it my own way

I’ll stick out my thumb and I trudge down the highway

Someday someone must be going my way home

Till then I’ll make my bed from a disused car

With a mattress of leaves and a blanket of stars

And I’ll stitch the words into my heart with a needle and thread

Don’t you cry for the lost

Smile for the living

Get what you need and give what you’re given

You know life’s for the living so live it

Or you’re better off dead

- 'Life's for the Living' by Passenger.

because at least posting a song is far better than some pointless rants.

Day 271

I really want to write an article describing "How does it feel to be a failure."

We see too much of "How to be rich" and "How to be successful" books in bookstores. Seriously. And no one effing knows how does it feel like to really flunk an exam. 

That's why we created a society that's afraid of failure, no matter how many motivational failure-related pictures we share on facebook. That's why we created a society of insensitive old women and men who look down on kids who fail. That's why we became bitter persons when we fail.

Because we are a society who glorifies richness, big cars, and titles in front of our birth names. We are the ones who share gloriously on how God has "paid back" our goodness with cash and happy lives. We never want to talk of failure as a good thing. We never want to say it's a God-given thing, because it clearly is not.

Who's going to speak for the ones who failed if we often equate God with success? 

Oh I forgot. 

This world isn't for failures. It's a place for successful people. That's why we learned about natural selection. The weak dies and gets wiped off. 

And unless you came out of this world and landed straight into a platinum-coated bed, you gotta work your ass off and never ever rest and let your guard down. And always remember you're not as smart as you think you are, and you have to spend all the time you got by studying everytime you know you should be studying. Because trust me, I swayed away from my own principle and now I face the consequences. The one who told you that you can handle it all will never know the pain you feel when you reach the end and clearly messed up your own life.

So you really still don't know how does it feel, don't you? 

I can summarise it all. It makes you feel so stupid that you never really knew your own capabilities to know that you could have always said "No" when you knew you're incapable. Some doctrines are not worth following. I know it's not worth it because 271 days have passed and I still can't get over it, out of so many things I have gotten rid of, this is the only thing that keeps on haunting me. 

Sing Us a Songgg You're the Piano Mannn

Sorry. Random title.

I haven't told the world how much I love Billy Joel's song Piano Man. It doesn't matter if I didn't, I guess. And it surely won't make a difference if I did. Piano Man is such a unique song that makes me happy and melancholic at the same time. It feels like riding a roller coaster (I have never been on a roller coaster before, how sad). Or Ferris wheel. Or simply swaying your head slowly sideways.

Anyway I've really been losing the reasons to blog. You won't be having the same reasons you had 6 years ago. It all started for fun, to write crap, to write about Thai actors and Thai dramas and Thai songs because I couldn't find school friends who would love to listen to my weird obsessions. Then the crap continued about how I loved secondary school and the things that happened. And occasionally I used my blog to vent out my anger without being specific because I always hated the head prefect who loved to only scold other prefects (now I'm being specific).. and then I started posting random reflective posts because I was out of secondary school and I began thinking it's time to grow up but then college life caused me to use this blog to complain, whine and curse. And tell things that I should've learnt to keep to myself.

I'm sorry.

Tonight I'll be posting up something because Cindy asked me to. I did think of writing a blog post but the whole idea of getting a request freaks me out.

On the evening of 2nd April, I received my first parcel which was totally something unexpected. Being the no-lifer who only found joy in Tetris Battle, of course a parcel from India is like the biggest highlight of the day/week/month/year.

I kept it on my bedside table, promising to myself that I will not be opening it until the supposed day, because only that can keep me excited for days.

Two parcels then arrived on the same day, 9th April, but not simultaneously. One arrived while I was napping. The other arrived just as I woke up.

I kept all three on my bedside table. For the first time in so many months, it felt so good to wake up, hoping that I'll finally get to open the precioussss presents.

I knew the first one was a book, because it felt so much like a book, and I guessed it had to be something about faith, because Suan doesn't read chic-lit. And I did guess Nick Vujicic's book, because I was planning to buy it. Andddd it was..

Suan must've mastered the art of mailing books,
that wrapper is not something I would've
thought of.. 

I always told a friend that I don't easily buy what motivational speakers or evangelists or leaders say, unless they've been through enough hardship to prove that they are truly sincere about helping people who struggle in life, without setting money and fame and fancy things as one of their priorities. I know it sounds like judging but it's just what I kept thinking of when seeing acquaintances who live tough lives and in the end do stuffs that people hate and you see nice guys trying to bring them back to God but it just makes them bitter because people won't listen if they can't relate or if you don't listen first. This is so emo so I'll talk about it some other suitable day.

Anyway I'm glad I finally get to read this because I want to know Nick's stories and what he says about God. Because people have a lot to say about God.

Next parcel..

This one was from Sharon, which she wrote "Gift - book" in the description, but definitely did not feel like a book at all. I was very curious about this one. I nearly thought they were chocolates instead -- and all these while I was squashing a chocolate box or something.

I tried hard to open it nicely using my penknife, but it ended up like how it would if I used a chicken's foot instead.

Its contents smelled of India. Not that I've been there before, but it just smelled like it.

I love the card. It's so cute. And the calender
would be far beautiful than me if it was a
woman instead.

The box that I guiltily squashed when it still had its wrapper
on. Squashing it made me know that it wasn't a book. But
Sharon wrote that it wassss.

And the last parcel, which I didn't have to guess what's inside..

...had so many layers of plastic and wrapping paper and paper again and box and they all smelled so Irish. Again, I've never been to Ireland but I assumed its the general smell of Ireland (or most probably just Cindy's house..) but please don't freak out that I sniff on things. I don't. 

I nearly thought I was about to receive an insulated mug
(which I read loudly as insulted mug and then laughed out
loudly. I know, I'm pathetic).

I don't know what to say about the scarf. Hahaha (nervous laugh) since the day Cindy said she managed to get one for me and enclosed a photo that proved it's not hers but she has two, I always felt guilty because I know she'll post it to Malaysia. 

There is a long background story about this scarf. I was in Form 5, about to sit for SPM, when I suddenly had a clear vision (vision sounds quite holy) dream an ambition  to spend my 20s looking cool in a uni overseas. I had have (present tense, since I still have it) a weird interest in universities (and schools) that are old and full of traditions. Scarves are one of the beautiful symbolical tradition that I adore dearly. The seniority system is another (like how good guy senior helps lost scared junior), which explains why I look up to some seniors. And Latin university mottos are awesome. 

Sorry my brain got distracted.

Anyway there must be one moment when I jokingly told Cindy I love looking at university scarves on Wikipedia because I'm such a weirdo T_T and she remembered (which makes me want to cry..) and then one day I was being told that I will have one for my birthday. Which I seriously think is an honour. 

I also received a colourful card that looked as if Cindy was
colouring so furiously. I still can't figure out if it's crayon or
coloured pencils.

This is beautiful. Ireland is such a cool country.

...and I received a letter!! Letters are so rare nowadays. I
keep things because of their sentimental values and I'm
definitely treasuring this, (of course, after reading it). The
feeling of reading a letter is so different compared to emails
and facebook posts.

Thank you Rachel and Cindy for the t-shirt too, which fits perfectly (How dare you said I might be fat!).  No pictures here because I took a picture of me wearing it. Now I can wear my brown trousers and green sweater and greeeen Irish shirt and pretend that I'm a tree, just like what Rachel told me during CA one year ago. (What?! One year ago?). Oh, what have I done with my life..)

Anyway a blog post without a conclusion is pointless. There's nothing else I can say. I don't deserve all these kindness and wishes. I didn't feel like celebrating anyway, because ageing closes doors with all those age limits in applications. One of the doors is called education. But we'll talk about that some other day. The warm wishes were enough to remind me that if humans can love me, surely God loves me. I love these people dearly. Those who have wished, and those who didn't. Choosing a one and only special friend is like choosing a one and only favourite book to me. It's hard so I rather not do it. Because every friend who saw the worst state I've been in so far have endured my bitchiness and rudeness and negativity and coldness, I really don't deserve to ask more from anyone. I lost my chance to medschool but I finally found what I've been looking for all my life, the answer to the questions I've been asking throughout secondary school life whenever I questioned my function in the gang. I always wanted a friendship where I can be my true self. Where I can be confident that I feel belonged. I'm pretty sure I can stop finding already.

It feels like I've been writing this forever. I'll make sure I'll keep this blog alive again someday, if it matters. Till then, thank you for teaching me the good side of teen/young-adult friendship, unlike the things I've seen and heard before I left for college at age 18 years 2 months.

Whispers

It's hard to find the reason

when all you have is doubts.

Hard to see inside yourself

when you can't see a way out.

Hard to find an answer

when a question won't come out.

Oh everyone's filling me up with noise,

I don't know what they're talking about.

You see all I need is a whisper 

in a world that only shouts.

Oh Mike Rosenberg a.k.a Passenger really writes beautiful lyrics. He is most probably the only artiste that I would love to ask to sign my guitar. 

"This too shall pass"

Everyday is a tough day, but I know that at least in those days I have things to be thankful for. Maybe not every single minute in my 24 hours are filled with things I can remember and be proud of when I grow older, but at least in those 24 hours, I have felt the need to stay hopeful, even if it only lasts for a minute.

Because I know, I may be left out in so many things, I may feel envious that others are having the time of their lives, I may feel that I can no longer relate to any of the stories that other people share, but beyond that, I know there are people who would actually kill to be in my place, just as much as how I would kill to be in my friends' places.

Maybe sometimes I just fail to remember that this too shall pass.

Sometimes

Sometimes I just wonder, what should I do in order to lift away the big hand that's squeezing my brain. 

And it leaves me alone sometimes. Two hours, three hours, maybe four.

But never a day. Never for the whole day. Or two consecutive days. What more to say beyond that.

We just hate to admit that we all have that big hand, don't we? 

Or maybe not all of us have it. But the small majority that does, remain in the cycle of wishful thinking.

My Second Fingerstyle Cover

It feels so nice to have to time and chance to learn fingerstyle, after years and years believing that I'll never get to do so. It's been six years since I first watched Sungha Jung's videos. If I started to learn straight away during those days, I could've been better now. But well, it's better late than never.

I still find it hard to play without making any mistakes, but I guess it's normal for anyone who has just started playing fingerstyle. I visited many fingerstyle channels and watched their first few videos, and it's completely normal to not have the ability to play perfectly.

This one took me about less than two weeks to learn and almost 30 attempts of recording. I needed to rush to play it since my eczema is eating up my left index finger - which means if it spreads to my fingertips, ha ha ha, habislah. 

Information about this song can be found in the video description. It's pretty much an emo song and I understand people don't like being emo hahah. But I love this song (although I'm not really crazy about the movie). The lyrics are a bit corny and mushy but I guess those are some of the things I love and can never get rid of.

I'm still thinking of what to learn next. I wish I can arrange tabs by myself, but that's something too ambitious to attempt right now.

These are the days where I find myself so happy that at least I've achieved something, but I know it doesn't normally last too long. On a side note, my favourite sister is leaving home tomorrow to continue her studies, and it sucks to see all of my favourite people leaving me behind one by one.

To my favourite people out there, จะได้ไม่ลืมเธอ.

I Wish You Knew

We accept the love we think we deserve.

I don't get why girls chase after scumbags. I can never comprehend why does love make you truly blind. I don't understand why we love to be in a cycle of pain or in the first place jump into that cycle when we know that the other person will just continue to hurt us.

Truly I have no rights to speak. I am young, I've never been in a relationship to grasp the concept of loving someone and loving their dog. Screw idioms. Relationships should be about responsibilities, not about having the rights to make your attitude as an excuse to hurt someone.

Talk About It

It's been more than a week. I guess. It's visiting me again. I can't sleep at night, no matter how long I lie down.

I've tried talking. I've tried listening to songs. I've tried laughing at silly photos. I've tried spending most of my time on my guitar. I've tried to focus less on myself and more on others by providing words of encouragement anonymously to some people. I've tried drinking more water. I've tried to control my thoughts. I've tried not to blog like how I used to do.

I guess that's the problem.

The more I suppress it, the bigger it gets. The more pretentious I become about my emotions, the harder it fights back. I no longer recognise this monster that I've been feeding all this while. 

It allows me to laugh when I'm extremely happy but the time it allows me to do so is short-lived. It allows me to talk to my friends but it restricts so many areas that I used to share. It tells me I'm strong enough to paddle my own boat, but it sends me a continuous series of small waves, insignificant reasons to cause me from being unreasonably afraid of falling into the ocean that seems so ready to swallow me again.

I now have five spots of eczema on my right hand, which I fear is being the clear indication that my stress level might be higher than I think it is. One is even very close to my fingertip, which has never happened and it worries me that I might not be able to play guitar for a while if it worsens.

There's a very thin line between exaggerating stuffs and being worried that I feel that maybe I'm just exaggerating after all.