Wednesday, January 29, 2014

*

     A winner, a champion, will accept his fate. He will continue with his wheels in the dirt. He will do his best to maintain his line and gradually get himself back on the track when it is safe to do so. Yes, he loses a few places in the race. Yes, he is at a disadvantage. But he is still racing. He is still alive.

     The race is long. It is better to drive within oneself and finish the race behind the others than it is to drive too hard and crash.

- The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein.

Friday, January 24, 2014

Opening Up Again

Day by day I begin to develop the thought that what I feel and what I always want to say does not matter after all. Emotions are insignificant when you choose to perceive them as insignificant. Human beings are rather impressive creatures. We adapt to things, and we are capable of adapting no matter what.

Words are not the ultimate cure and perhaps will never be. While it is capable of causing a long-lasting destruction, no words can actually solve problems if the bearer of the calamity does not begin to realise or learn to see things by himself. Talking and opening up might to a certain extent lighten the burden, but somewhere, somehow, something will still remain there and be ready to surface up, unless he who holds the emotions learn to conquer them in spite of all the changes that might occur.

Changes will occur. We hate the inevitable, but nothing much can be done but to slowly accept and appreciate things. Many things have changed. I am in no position to judge the changes in my attitude and say that I've grown up, because I know some things inside still remain and linger silently. But I do know now that nobody owes me anything. Knowing alone is not important, because I always knew so, but fully understanding it is a different thing altogether. I no longer feel the need to keep on pointing fingers to many people whom I've met in the past two and a half years. I kid you not, the temptation was so strong. For months, I carried a deep resentment towards so many people.

But those months also taught me to see what if I was on the other side of the fence. In fact, I can somehow say how it feels to have been on both sides in just a few months. It feels weird. It feels strange. And perhaps because of that, I see it as a privilege.

From a position of attempting to blame and keeping a hidden feeling of wanting to blame, I've tasted the humiliation of being dragged in a blame game. Being the one who thought of death, I saw death in a different perspective and how painful it is to bear for a 15 year-old boy who had lost a father. Being the one who always received words of encouragement, I frequently found myself in a position where I wanted to be the one to provide, but ended up being surprised on how tough it is to be the helper and constant companion of an aching soul. Indeed, there are too many things we as human beings can never achieve. We can never fulfil the role of God. 

There are many people in my life whom I know are going through tough things. I wish they knew that when no one comes forward directly to console, it doesn't mean that they are insignificant beings. Sometimes you don't do it because you might offend them. Sometimes it's because you were never quite close to them in the first place. Sometimes you fear it'll be awkward and sound pretentious. But the best thing is when sometimes you just know that they will be alright, and it's when you give them the time to get up on their feet, you'll see them get up and go on with life.

Now picture yourself on both sides of the situation.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Fee Reads (2014, #2)

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (by Jonathan Safran Foer).

Actually my first book for 2014, but I don't know how to put it (whether I should say it's the first, or the second) when I've started A Study in Scarlet (by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) in December 2013 but finished it in 2014.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is a story of a nine-year-old named Oskar who embarks in an adventure, searching for the lock to a key he found in his late dad's belongings. 

I hate giving synopses because they are easy to find elsewhere, so let me just jump to what makes this book special  to me.

A few months back, when I was targeting for the next book to buy, the cover of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close caught my eyes. Contrary to popular belief that you should not judge a book by it's cover, well, I had actually judged that this might be a potentially good book...

I love the cover for no known reasons!
...and it was.

I love books about families, especially about father-son relationships. I count it as lucky if I can find a really good book that plays with my emotions, makes me chuckle when I'm supposed to, and makes me cry when the character cries. After one day finishing the book, I still cannot move on to another. Oskar still stays in my mind.This book narrowed the tragedy of 9/11 to an individual's significance, not just names in a memorial plaque, but the stories their loved ones carry, which made the whole story so unique. 

Of course there were parts which I preferred weren't there (I don't think I need to type those out). I think those who didn't really like this book would hate me if I say that Jonathan Safran Foer is a genius, but still I think he really is. I would be glad if I find the chance to read his other works in the future.

So yeah. Read it if you're looking for a book that can make you cry and laugh. I can't guarantee that you'll like it, but this book automatically placed itself in my list of favourite books of all time hahah (maybe because I don't read much, so yeah, lol, I'm in a mission to read a wide range of genres, but I'm struggling with sci-fi and fantasy, lol -- nothing to do with this review).

Anyway...yeah, 5 stars -- for making me cry because I love emotional stuffs.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Street Lights Look Like Pollen Grains


Latest song from me. In the past few months I've been listening to a variety of genres. Not many know that I started rapping when I was 12 (Where is the Love by Black-Eyed Peas). This time I'm challenging myself to write/play something different. I always strum my guitar. It's like the only thing I'm confident about. But it's getting boring, to be honest. Street Lights Look Like Pollen Grains is an experiment to pick up some courage of trying something new. It was played with a very simple chord progression and writing the lyrics took a shorter time than trying to sing and rap to it without any mistakes. Overall, it was a simple song, but I'm glad I have very supportive friends in my life. I never really realised about this before.They are my lyrics.

Songwriting and playing guitar have taught me so many beautiful things. I can't tell you exactly what's the purpose of my works, but I can tell you that these are the things that keep me going. When you do something out of love and nothing else, the feeling is spectacular, regardless of the outcome.