ROFC

A few weeks ago I was on Reddit, browsing through a thread that asked a simple question, "How are you?"

It amazes me that so many people around the world are feeling the same things at the same time.

Loneliness. Feeling comfortably numb. Depressed. Hopeless. Giving up. Holding on. 

If I had to choose a superpower, I'd most probably pick the ability to save these aching souls.

I know that everyone is fighting a battle that not everyone knows about. I know that while I'm rolling on the floor crying (yes, pathetic), someone out there might be doing the same, and that comforts me so much. I haven't felt this way for so long. It's scary that some feelings and some voices can reappear. Sigh. No one ever said life is easy anyway.

That night after reading through the Reddit thread, I thought of becoming a social worker. I thought of how weird it is that in this world, emotional pain can come in varying degrees. It also amuses me that some people can hold on for so long even after going through great pain, while some people get only a fraction of that pain but already feel like giving up.

But of course when I was ROFC, it's all about me. It's all about how bad I feel about myself. Sometimes I wonder what is the most effective way to transfer all of these negative thoughts and convert it into something beneficial to the society. Maybe only through this way I can be positive that I'll be able to live the rest of my life without getting back those scary thoughts. I call it scary because I thought they'd never come back. I was so so wrong. 

I wish no one would ever have to feel the pain of living. But then who am I to ask for such a big wish. If you're feeling like crap today, hang on in there man, you're not alone.

Strumming My Heartstrings

What a pretentious blog entry title. Heh.

Hey world. I went back to school today. First day after the relaxing two-week break. It was so hard to force myself to sleep last night. And so hard to get out of bed. The skies were covered with dark clouds. It was so cold. I like it when it's cold, but today I hate the fact that it was baju kurung day and I didn't bring my emo hoodie.

I'm making this blog post because of something one of my classmates said to me in the morning during the first lesson.

My college CF needs a guitarist.

In fact, it really really needs a guitarist. Not a second or third backup guitarist.

I don't know what to say. In fact, this makes me nervous. It also gives me that deja vu. And reminds me back of so many things I try not to remember.

First of all, you'd notice I started cursing on my blog not long ago.

I went from that kid who said oh my goodness (I never liked people who used too much of Oh My God) to this person who doesn't care a bit about using the latter, added with some derogatory and obscene terms that I personally think adds colour in a conversation. I never say them out loud verbally, but what's the difference anyway when I type them out. They're still the products of my thoughts. 

Back to the CF issue. 

Man, I don't know. My heart screams for this opportunity, deep deep down. I was so tempted to say yes right away...but I don't know what's holding me back.

Oh wait, I know what's holding me back.

And that makes me sad. Or sadmad, like what the Boov named Oh said in that movie Home that my nephew keeps on watching.

Last night for the first time in gazillion years I listened to a worship song on YouTube. You know..purely coincidental stuff..saw a Facebook friend sharing this song by MercyMe and I thought hey, this looks like a good song and kaboom I went from song to song. 

This is really hard to say out to the real world. Really personal faith matter, I know. But I don't care. I want some people to know, whoever you are. Part of me is so tired of faking my way through all the stuffs. I curse like shit with one of my close friends on Facebook chat. I often skip church for no reason at all, really. Part of it is laziness. I haven't played a worship song for so long on my guitar. You know that blue file I used to carry around in Intec, filled with lyrics and chords and stuffs? It's buried among so many other files and I dread every moment when I feel like opening it. I cringe at those moments when I was so active in CFs and stuffs. Whenever I feel like crying after accidentally listening to a worship song, I'll act macho and tell myself it's stupid to cry. I, of course, know where this all rooted from. 

I'm over it, really. I'm over all the shit I went through and I accept the fact that hey, God knows what He's doing, whatever He's doing. I still believe there is a God. I'm not rejecting the idea completely. I'm okay with holier-than-thou people already. Everything seemed OK after I cared less about things. Suddenly, religious matters, which used to give me unnecessary stress, now no longer gives me the same effect. I am a lot calmer now. Which is weird.

Last time, when I was so deep into religious matters, it gave me so much stress which I could not fathom. I remember standing in that Akasian bathroom in front of the massive mirror almost every morning (and every night when I brush my teeth) thinking that if God really loved me and wanted me to become a good Christian and the whole idea of this faith is to submit myself to Him then why am I doing this every morning, contemplating about life and serving and making time for myself and feeling so tired and stress of it all. Suddenly, religion seemed to give me the opposite thing than the idea of calmness. 

Which is what I'm afraid of now.

It has been two full years of removing faith and religion from the stress region of my brain. I seldom worried about anything at all that has something to do with God and church. And keeping it that way makes me love this idea of religion more.

I'm not sure whether I am ready to get back into the serving scene. Being in a worship team. Attending CF gatherings and giving commitments. I want to, but I'm afraid I don't deserve such a good position. With all the curses and stuffs that came out of my brain..with all the mindset I still feel like keeping.

I'm not even sure if I need to ask anyone's opinion. I want to say yes. That's an honest answer from me. After all of the reasons to say no as stated above, I'm going to add on why I feel like saying yes.

I want to finish what I started. There's a certain inexplicable hurt and loss that I felt after not making it, being that only one who didn't make it out of the other 13 committee members of Campus Alive. I admit it has something to do with my ego and pride. I never felt that I finished well compared to the rest of the people who went to CA and served in the committee and worship team. 

What if this is one of the reasons I ended up here? Christians often say we don't end up in a certain place because of pure coincidence. We have a contribution to make. And today's timing seems so perfect after that MercyMe song I heard last night. But then am I fooling myself by believing in this as a sign?

If not me, then who else? If I say no, will everything still be alright? Why am I allowing this CF to worship without a guitar when the truth is I have something to give? It's like ignoring that woman on the bus and refusing to give my seat to her.

The other reasons are based on pure selfishness. I want to get involved in something in college. I want to clear off my tarnished reputation among some tutors. I want to feel a sense of achievement, maybe. 

Back to saying no, well, what's telling me to say no is pure fear.

I don't want my grades to dwindle. I keep on repeating that I am no longer afraid of failure, but the truth is I am not ready to trade my grades with something that I am never burdened with before this. Saying yes would mean giving a commitment. Saying yes would mean sacrifices are to be made. Saying yes could mean history may repeat itself. What if I flunk like in Intec, and what that will make me bitter about CFs and Christians and Church? I am not ready to feel this once again.

My parents will also worry, I guess. Why would I want to serve in a CF when I'm the laziest to wake up every Sunday? Why would I want to join CF again when it's me who debated the whole idea of God and church with my mum not long ago? What is this crazy kid up to this time? Isn't it better that I just sit in my room and read my Bible and focus on going to church every Sunday without having the need to show the world that I am a holy Christian young adult who actively serves in a worship team for CF? What have I done to the people around me for two years? I ditched all the idea of CR and being kind to others. Why would I want to walk along the road that I've left? Why would I want to risk another failure?

In the end, it all becomes almost Pavlovian. I hear the word CF and worship and guitars and I quickly associate it with a period when I suck so badly in life. And that prevents me from saying yes. I don't want to live like in those days, constantly wishing I was dead instead of feeling all the stupid pain I wasn't ready to handle.

I've been thinking of this all evening. In fact, I've been thinking of this for quite a long time, about giving back my guitaring passion to something that can please God and help others. I thought of playing for the Christmas carol team in my church, maybe I should start this year because I've been dreaming of it since I was 13. But I barely make it to church these days. In the end I just drop the whole idea. It's the same for today. One second I am convinced to say yes. Another second I freak out and say eff it all, I'm comfortable this way.

I really should pray about it, eh?

Not even sure whether Pavlov's Theory actually
fits in this whole thing but I'm laughing wayyy
too hard at this. And the spontaneous usage of the
word 'Pavlovian'. Heck I love my emo brain.

Driving (and Other Stories)

I promised to be back here so I guess tonight I might as well just let the world know what I'm up to. 

July seems like a good month so far because I've just discovered that the human body can do remarkable things. Before you start thinking of some weird stuffs please let me clarify lol that I am talking about the ability to learn certain things and get the hang of it after some time. I'm not saying that we can turn skilful immediately but it just amazes me that some proper teaching can actually assist a process of learning new skills.

If this is true and can be applied in other areas of knowledge and skills, wouldn't it be magnificent that we can all actually play cello, or speak Spanish, or read Korean, or draw portraits, or become a better ice-skater? And of course the list can go on and on.

So a few days after I learnt how to swim, I began my driving lessons with an instructor named Mr. Sim. Mr. Sim owns two pairs of spectacles, one that tints itself into a very blue shade when it's sunny, and another one that has not much special thing to talk about. He smokes Dunhill. On my second lesson he greeted me with something in between hello and bello which I did not answer to because I was dumbstruck by the possibility of having a real life minion greeting. His ringtone is a the chipmunk's version of Flo Rida's song Low which shocked me so much. Why am I talking about all these? No reasons actually. I just want to apply what I've read in award-winning fictions. The persona always observes insignificant things. This amazes me. 

So far it has been a pleasant learning experience. I can drive, but I still make mistakes, so I won't say I can drive properly. In fact, I am still scared of the real test day. This morning, I almost scraped the car while doing some zigzag turns at the place where I practised. Mr. Sim says my moves are exaggerated, which is so true in many other things I do apart from turning the steering wheel. My list of exaggerated moves include impressing my sister by imitating Kwang-soo's dance moves, crossing the road (I'd normally run when approaching the other side), playing the guitar (I secretly set a mindset that I'm actually performing in front of others), reacting towards disaster (I'll always think that the problem is bigger than it really is) and as usual, the list can go on and on.

Apart from that, I've discovered that my left leg and foot are rebellious and normally won't listen to my brain. 

Other things are fine, except for one tiny bit of scene that could fit into a low-budget comedy show this morning when I dropped my hands in frustration (another exaggerated move) on the steering wheel after failing to do something (which I now have forgotten).

You should see how both of my hands accidentally dropped on the signal light handle andddd windscreen wiper handle. You should see how my instructor cringed and said I could've scratched the windscreen. Me? I cringed, and then I laughed. 

The perfectionist inside of me wouldn't have laughed when making mistakes while learning but lately I find myself laughing at every mistake. And the more I laugh, the more I seem to learn. I might as well write a self-help book about how much you can achieve by laughing at your mistakes.

That's all for the driving story. Unless you want me to also add on some insignificant things like how on the first or second lesson, I failed to follow some instructions because my brain was so confused. So it went like this-

First/Second Lesson

"Don't do anything unless I tell you to do so! Follow my instructions! *exasperated tone*

Fourth Lesson

"Don't wait until I give instructions!" *another exasperated tone*

Despite all this, despite all of the exasperated tones, everything else is good. When I laugh, my instructor laughs and makes silly jokes which I approve, according to my standard of lameness. He's so chill. I like teachers who are so chill, hence this special blog entry which is 70% about the teacher and only 30% about the driving experience itself. 

I am also amazed that I am not as socially awkward as I think I am. Proof number 1 is that in the absence of other people, I can actually hold up a conversation with an adult man. This amazes me (so much actually, till the point that I remember I once did a silly quiz online and it said that my mental age is 46 ugh thanks). We talked about the coming Kuching Foodfest, my old school, why did I wait until I am 22 to start learning how to drive, the recent Low Yat Plaza incident, weird (but clean, don't worry) jokes, how my sister was a fast learner when she learned how to drive with him 4 years ago (I feel pressured), and I am actually amazed that he remembers my sister's name despite omitting the last syllable of her name, making it a guy's name instead.

You see another thing that makes me ponder about life is that our teachers aren't just the ones who teach us ABCs or the IUPAC nomenclature in Organic Chemistry or annoying Maths formulas. Some of them are our friends who teach us how to swim and dance and be chill, or normal guys on YouTube who in real life are factory workers but make guitar tutorial videos for free, or driving instructors who may sound exasperated at times but laugh together at your mistakes, or most important of all, parents who taught us how to poop and pee in a civilised manner, for lack of a better word.

In fact, it's funny how easy it is to detect a good teacher but it's so hard to become one. Like seriously now I'm worried after seeing how mad the level of patience a 'real teacher' portrays. I suddenly realise that being adult means you need a mad level of patience so you can earn more money or live a better life or positively impact a person's life through your actions. And what is the ultimate goal of a life-long learning process of acquiring patience? I don't know, son. Maybe patience is the only way we all can live a bearable life together on earth as human beings.

Paint Your Wings

Relax, this isn't going to be a post that makes sense. 

So I was feeling bored and (unfortunately) too lazy to read or play guitar. My mind suddenly remembered about some music files on my laptop that were left unorganised for months. I decided to waste a little bit of time to add their cover arts and details because...I don't know. They look good with all those things. My sister disagrees with me and thinks it's a freakish thing to do. 

I have 1672 songs in this file and there are millions more to be renamed, filled with details, and added with cover art. This is definitely not a thing worth doing, I know.

Some songs in the file.

Then I stumbled across a playlist shuffle game and thought that it's cool, so I kind of thought if I can waste and hour I can certainly waste another more. These were the results:


1) IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY:
Sky Diver (Owl City)
-nothing will ever make sense in this blog post.

2) WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Before the Worst (The Script)
-hah!

3) WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
Incomplete (Backstreet Boys)
-noooo!

4) HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?
First of the Gang to Die (Morrissey)
-dangggg.

5) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Rivers (Passenger & Lior)
-to flow like a river? eh?

6) WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Mary (The Maccabees)
-that's actually a pretty good motto LOL.

7) WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Time of the Season (The Zombies)
-man that's sad.

8) WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Headlights in Dark Roads (Snow Patrol)
-that went emo.

9) WHAT IS 2+2?
A Lonely September (Plain White T's)

10) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
Slumville Sunrise (Jake Bugg)

11) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Why Do I Love You (Westlife)
-WHY, WHYYY?!

12) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Love Isn't Easy (But It Sure Is Hard Enough) (ABBA)
-hahahahhahaha

13) WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Carry On (Fun.)
-"when I grow up, I want to carry on."

14) WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Bruises (Train & Ashley Monroe)
-yayyyy.

15) WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Where We Land (Ed Sheeran)
-I don't get it.

16) WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
The Last Song Ever (Secondhand Serenade)
-so depressing.

17) WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
The Story of Us (Taylor Swift)
-wow that's a very upbeat song to play at a funeral LOL.

18) WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Cold Coffee (Ed Sheeran)
-kinda true? :O

19) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
I Do (Colbie Caillat)
-that suddenly went Derp..

20) WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
I Lay My Love on You (Westlife)
-ok I'll remember not to lay my love on anyone.

21) HOW WILL YOU DIE?
I See Fire (Ed Sheeran)
-Okayyyy..this is scary.

22) WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
Surrender (Simple Plan)
-uhuk uhuk.

23) WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
Distance (Secondhand Serenade)
-LOL wrong song wrong question.

24) WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
Next to You (Chris Brown & Justin Bieber)
-hahahhahaa tears of happiness.

25) WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
Easy to Love You (Shayne Ward)
-so is it a yes or a no?

26) WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
Sunday Afternoon (Rascal Flatts)
-hahahhaha I don't know if this makes sense.

27) DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
Am I the Only One (Marc Anthony)
-am I the only one who likes myself hahahahhaa.

28) IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own (U2)
-uhuk uhukkk.

29) WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Another One Bites the Dust (Queen)

30) WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
Paint Your Wings (All Time Low)


I know, this is lame. But it's funnnnn.

Feeling Nostalgic (Again)

You know what I hate most about blogging? It makes me think of things until I feel like I must type them out. And all of those things give me a lump in my throat all the time, and I remember about people and places that I've left behind. I end up listening to songs that mark a certain period in my life, and it forces me to reread old blog entries that make me want to cry all the time.

Now that I've typed those things out, I've finally realised why I didn't want to return here.

But then I am confident with myself--that I will never feel any regret of the past despite this lump in my throat that is still there the moment I'm typing this.

This afternoon my tutor in college told us a story about her experience of teaching in a school. She had a very disruptive student, and one day, tired of being patient with this student's behaviour, my tutor scolded him in front of others.

For a few days the kid (a teen) fell silent in class and soon afterwards he approached my tutor and asked her why was she so mad of him. She later found out that he had dyslexia.

I will end the story here, but before that I'd say that the ending went pretty well. 

I don't know why did the story touch me in a weird way. I ended up almost crying. And that sounds dramatic but that's the truth. 

My tutor then told us the right things to do if we end up as educators one day.

All of a sudden I have a mad level of respect towards those who contributed to part of the confidence that I possess now. It's not that before this I didn't feel this way at all, but all of a sudden, today, flashbacks keep on playing in my mind like crazy. It is as if there's this part of my brain that laid dormant all these while and now it's being activated again. To put it in more accurate words, I've been actually suppressing this every time it tried to emerge in the past few months.

Likewise, all of a sudden, I begin to see those who did it wrong. Those who broke a student's spirit. Those who planted seeds of discouragement. And all of a sudden I marvel at the complexity of the art of teaching and learning.

I marvel at the human emotions involved in it. I begin to see how great it is if every educator realised that he or she can change a student's life.

And in the end, I think of my days in Intec. I think of the days I was the opposite of disruptive--but it was as if I had dyslexia too. Suddenly all of these things become real stuff, you see. Suddenly it all made sense. It all made sense that I was actually trying very hard to seek help silently. It all made sense that no wonder after all that had happened, a friend told me she kind of knew I wouldn't make it. I was mad with this friend for a long time after that. But now, it all made sense. I now understand most of the things that had happened, and all of the mad emotions I had, and not to forget, that mad amount of respect towards a few people who just like this tutor I'm taking about, actually knew what were the right things to do.

I guess a little bit of nostalgia won't kill. If it's nostalgia that gives us the understanding of the past, then I guess there are a lot more things I need to look back on and write about, because sometimes the demons are not pleased when we leave them hovering. 

They need to be killed. They need to be killed with fingers dancing gracefully on alphabets to the music of nostalgia.