#6 I Wrote a Song Called 'Flowers'

I wrote a song. The inspiration came on the 7th of April, but I spent some time figuring out the rest of the lyrics.

I'm still slightly disappointed that the other song, about the man on the bus, still remains hanging. It's funny that as we grow older, we tend to get more critical of our own works and ideas. Back in 2010 to 2012, when I was actively writing songs, I still remember being so proud of writing them. When I listen to those songs these days, I cringe so hard. I'm still glad that I wrote them, but I often wonder where on earth did I get the courage to post and share them in the first place? Doing so these days is actually very hard. Especially when you see peers who can sing better, or produce songs more professionally. And sometimes I think songwriting really is a childish hobby. But art, in general, are all childish anyway.

You gave me a smile 

of a schoolboy

chatting with his friend

in front of the school gate 

when classes end

life begins

but innocence remains

And maybe you've given me

a heart of a schoolboy too

cos I don't have a clue

why I'm singing for you

out of the blue 

this song was written for you

Well you're a flower

that I'll never get to pick 

in this lifetime

and there's no trick

I can use to make you mine

I'm out of my mind

I'm out of my mind

But who needs flowers anyway?

Don't need to pick them to see them all day

and one day if they go away

remember flowers die anyway

My schoolboy smile will remain

like a flower in the rain

it'll blossom again

it'll blossom again

Tell me I'm not insane

I'm not insane

And my schoolboy heart

will still flutter in the wind

and my hands, oh 

tell me they're not trembling

Is time stopping?

or is it spinning?

Cos you're a flower 

in the garden

of a better person

Your voice is like sweet tea

while I'm a can of coffee

I'm bitter like coffee

I'm bitter like coffee

But who needs flowers anyway?

I can just see you from far away

"Let them go if you love them", they say

Cos in the end it'll all fade away

Cos in the end it'll all fade away

Cos in the end innocence

will fade away

What am I trying to say?

So basically, in early April I had the quote about plucking/picking(?) flowers lingering in my mind. Oh, you know that quote about how if you love a flower you better just let it grow. 

And on 6th April, as usual, my bus passed by the gate of St. Joseph where there was this boy, (I don't even remember his face now), he was sitting with his friend there, and he had this purest, happiest smile I've ever seen on a schoolboy, and I was left with the thought that damn it, one day that teenager will grow up, face the real world, and he'll lose his innocence. He won't be having that same chance of sitting in front of his school gate with his friend, having a casual conversation, smiling so broadly, so free from the realities of life.

Then I quickly associated it with the youthful innocence of infatuation, of liking someone, thinking that we're actually loving them, and the heartbreak that comes with every feeling of that love we feel, and how our hands tremble when we see them. Infatuation, or crushing, or falling in love. at any age, gosh, they make you feel like a schoolboy once again. 

So this song was written.

With someone in my mind, of course. 

But I know that it's only short-lived, and I know how to control it, and that's the beauty of emotions. You feel them, and you produce art out of them. 

Pergh, philosophical gilaaaa.

#5 Thoughts on Turning 23

I'm just going to do this because it has been sort of a tradition since the last 2 or 3 years I think? I seriously have nothing planned in my mind about this post but let's just carry on..

So yeah today is not my birthday. I'm two days late just because I'm lazy. It's a pure simple reason. These days I've been lazy, in fact, so lazy than usual, and finals is just in two weeks time. This is crazyyy.

My thoughts on turning 23?

Dios mio, I don't have any deep thoughts about it!

You know that Passenger song that goes

Cos we're bullets,

and we fire from shotguns,

flying through birthdays and new year.

Man, really, we're bullets. 

Sometimes I can't believe I'm still alive and well, after all that had happened. But it's like I've always been writing about that shit and I no longer think it's important to keep on repeating about it. But sometimes, I do admit, I'm proud about it. I'm no longer ashamed about it. And sometimes I just want to run into the middle of a road in Kuching and thump my chest and roar that I'm alive.

But then birthdays really mean less about us and more about the people around us as we grow older, I guess. 

I've saved the new year, and Easter, to think about how I want to become a new person, a better one, and since the new year and Easter were just a few months/weeks back, there's nothing really new to think about on my birthday.

I thought about my mum, how she lost a brother two weeks before I was born, and I thought about all those people who have brought me this far, and all those people who used to be so close to me like siblings, but now we don't even talk anymore.

My birthday was a lonely one.

You see, other people at the age of 23 mostly don't live at home anymore, or at least they have a group of friends to celebrate it with them.

My time for those sort of celebrations have ended. It was more than enough that I had memorable celebrations at the age of 19 and 20. And I don't have the slightest desire to be celebrated anymore, to be honest. 

The only reason why I no longer hid my birthday on Facebook was purely to reconnect with those who have not spoken to me for too long...

..and I'm really glad that some people really did reemerge.

Look, I'm not trying to say that I'm waiting for them to make the first move.

But really, sometimes it's just like that. I really miss some old friends, but I'm not sure whether they want to reconnect. And birthdays are like one perfect reason to break the awkwardness and say hi, I guess.

Anyway, on that particular day, I was left alone at home. It was a really sunny day, and I had no classes to attend.

But I had one assignment which had to be submitted by the 15th, and, well, I've been procrastinating.

So I spent the last hours of my 22nd year and the first few hours of being 23...on my assignment, in front of the laptop, in my tiny bedroom, when it was all sunny and bright outside.

And since there was no one else at home, I made a perfect decision to go an extra mile, literally.

I hopped on a public bus, and guess where I went to?

The library. The magical, mystical DBKU City Library.

It's a rather crazy thing to do, travelling 22 kilometres for RM 2.50 under the blazing sun, waiting at the bus stop for 40 minutes, sitting next to sweaty strangers on the bus..all on your birthday, with no real reasons at all, other than the desire to spend like about 2 hours at your favourite place. And guess what's more depressing? Travelling back home for another RM 2.50, but before that, walking under the heavy rain just to reach the bus station. 

It was a foolish thing to do, but strangely, some foolish things are rather..satisfying.

Oh, you can imagine how I happy I was, despite having to go through all of that, receiving basic interactions with perfect strangers who didn't know it was my birthday on that day, but my heart was overfilled with joy, again, for no other reason than pure delight at the thought that I was alone, in a library, reading a terrific book, and nothing else mattered.

Oh and I had a can of latte, which was probably why I was kinda high. 

Anyway I still had high expectations about the day. Like, y'know, the possibility of meeting good strangers, or the possibility of having the chance to help someone, or y'know, all those weird shit if been really interested in since the past few months. 

But no, it was a surprisingly dull day.

The sleeves of my hoodie were drenched by the rain, I almost missed the bus because my wristwatch played a trick on me, and the bus was air-conditioned. Oh, it was still a perfect day.

I began thinking that oh, it's my birthday, and it's been so dull, so come on Fee, let's make it  a bit interesting. I saw faces of tired people at bus stops, waiting for other buses, and my mind went alive. I smiled enthusiastically at them, and waved my hands excitingly at them when the bus whizzed past the bus stops. 

Hit pause,

that was fictional.

That was just in my imagination, in the perfect world of silly and sociable and adventurous Fee.

I still think of doing it next time though. For no real reason other than pure silliness. 

Once I arrived home some of my family members were already home, and my mum said let's have some coffee and cakes.

So I had more latte.

I woke up the next day with a terrible headache, and I know it must be the latte. Latte is good, but I had a little too much latte that day.

Let's get back to some serious things.

Thoughts on turning 23? 

Hah! I still don't have any.

I'm just happy to be alive, to have the ability and skills to ignore my problems and not dwell too much in them, and the ability to somehow have crushes and be crushed over and over again, and idk man, at the age of 18, I was excited to grow up and meet people and see the world and become independent. At the age of 19, 20, and 21 I spent most of my years wishing that a car could hit me when I'm crossing the road. But those years allowed me to grow so much and meet so many good people and learn to hate and also love my family, and at 22 things seemed to get a lot better, and now, reaching 23, I realise that as life goes on, there are more and more chances to learn and discover, to love and to grow. There's no such thing as being too old to do something (maybe?). Birthdays are cool, but every day can become your birthday once you discover that each day brings something new in your life.

Pergh, philosophical gila.

We've made it buddy, we've reached this far.

#4 Things I've Learnt in March

Motivation dies fast.

I've stopped practising new fingerstyle arrangements. When I first uploaded Iris, I monitored closely the number of views, likes, and subscriptions I've obtained on YouTube. At that moment I was already kind of dreaming that my channel would grow well enough to get endorsed or something but right now I'm back to that state where I find myself thinking that it's too late, I'm too old, and this dream is impossible.

Crushing is stupid.

Crushing is stupid and a complete waste of time. And it can get really weird. And again, a complete waste of time. And, well, you get the gist.

Respect people's time.

Talk is cheap, don't use the word 'sorry' too easily, and respect people's time. 

There are good people in this world.

Thanks to the random scruffy stranger who helped me to find my 10 sen when I dropped it on the bus. Thanks to the uncle who gave me his Borneo Post. Thanks for the unexpected chance to pay it forward the next day.

Unrealistic fantasy books can be fun.

Reading my first Discworld book. Liking it so far. Not madly in love with it, but who knows, I might be collecting the whole series if I have the chance and money to do so.

No one is looking at you 24/7.

Do weird stuffs. Be yourself. Wear a boater hat anywhere you want if you feel like it. Style up your hair if you feel like it. Dress like a boy if you feel like it. No one cares. 

Smile more.

Gosh smiling is hard. I need to smile more this April. Been doing good, but I need to do better.

I'm sure I've learnt a lot more. But I'm a bit lazy to blog seriously. Currently having a weird obsession with this video:

#3 I am Where I'm Supposed to Be

I may have grown a bit more optimistic over the months, but I still need a daily reminder of this.

I still find myself frequently repeating the same statement in my head.

I am exactly where I'm supposed to be. 

But a few days ago my little niece and my sister left home to return to their own home, which is quite a distance from home, and I had a class that was going to start at 11am. I had to catch the 9am bus. (I don't drive these days--we'll get to that story in another post.)

You know the thing about family is that when one leaves, you'll feel that emptiness, no matter how hard you try to deny it. It feels weird to not be at home when a family member leaves. So I kinda hated the idea that I needed to go to school on that day.

I also hate the part of waiting for the bus at the bus stop. I'm fine of waiting, but I hate the cat-calling and honks from men who simply cannot imagine how it feels like if their own daughters or siblings are objectified. Oookay, I know some of you are going to say "But it's just for fun!" but come on people, can we all have a little bit of manners please?

For a few weeks straight the bus has always arrived exactly at 9am, but that day I was beginning to feel a little bit irritated when I discovered that a) the bus might have came earlier and I've missed that one or b) the bus is going to be late.

As if jeering at my situation, a dog across the road decided to poop right in front of me. 

I was beginning to feel cranky. Beginning to think of it as a bad sign of a bad whole day. Oh you know too well how we've been influenced to think this way.

Luckily, I was reminded of something I've read a few months back, about how you are in charge of your day. There's really no such thing as a "bad day". It's just a matter of perception.

Wow. Surprising innit?

Surprising that how 2 to 3 years ago I was totally incapable to having these thoughts.

My bus arrived 15 minutes later, and it was a different bus driver. I like him because he's often really warm and courteous towards his passengers. I remember wishing him happy new year last year.

There's really nothing much to tell about a bus ride, but I like how relaxing it can be. I like how I can allow myself to think, but not focus too much on it, as if letting my mind wander, but still taking control on it. Like flying a kite, maybe, if that's even a legit analogy.

So I thought of Syed Azmi, about spreading kindness, about improving myself, because life isn't just about me caring about complete strangers, but also my own family members and my friends, which is, I admit, a lot harder to do. So what's the point of being kind to strangers if you can't even have a consistent effort to care for your family and friends. Oh, the big questions in life..

I also thought about coffee, because I love coffee and I know how older people love coffee too, and what if one day I start this project called COFFREE or freeCOFfee or something because I used to ask people to call me FEE, and you know, that's kind of a cool thing to give away for free to strangers because people who love coffee knows well how coffee can make a difference in their lives. (I become more loving and warm and active after a can of Nescafe Latte, and I would love to spread the love and warmth and activeness to others if I could). But I don't want to give it just like that. You're going to question my intentions of sharing this here but please this is not for the sake of karma-whoring and telling the world how generous I am because man, I haven't even started this project yet and I'm not even sure if it's going to happen anyway. It's just some sort of seed to an idea that may or may not be planted. I don't think I have many readers anyway so I guess it's a safe space to write it down. So basically about the part where I said I don't want to just give it away like that, I mean, I don't want people to recognise me (sort of contradicts to the fact why I posted this here, I know) but I think there's a reason why my personality is kinda confusing. Why am I always eager to make a move, but too hesitant about it? Why do I love being in the limelight, but at the same time, I feel uncomfortable about it? It makes the whole ideation of staying anonymous more appealing to me, but would you drink a can of coffee left anonymously for you? Oh the big questions in life...

So I was thinking about coffee. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. when suddenly a sachet of Nescafe 3-in-1 dropped right in front of my eyes.

Dramatic, I know.

It wasn't really in front of my eyes but it was in the scope of my vision, belonging to a young woman seated on the opposite aisle. She placed her plastic of lunchbox right next to her and inside it she also kept the coffee sachet. For some reason the plastic shifted and the sachet decided to drop on the floor behind her seat and she was totally unaware of this. The old woman behind me ignored the situation. I was in some sort of shock because I was really thinking of coffee at that very moment. (dios mio, is this a sign from the Holy Spirit? /s). Sorry. I just had to.

So there must've been 20 to 30 minutes moment of indecision whether to tell her or not (I still suck, I still find myself thinking too much sometimes). But I ended up waving at her and she was looking at me as if I was a creep and I simply said "Kopi jatuh!"

Nehh..it wasn't that hard pun.

As a reward, I received a super warm smile from her and she said thank you. And I was like OMG THIS IS WHY I LOVE RIDING BUSES!

So there you have it.

I began thinking again,

that I am where I am supposed to be.

That's really the point of the story. 

I'm tired of the days where I prayed so much, "GOD, USE ME!!" but then I never really realised how God really uses all of us in our daily lives. We just don't realise it sometimes because we're too busy praying for Him to use us in big, showy ways. We all want to do big, important stuffs. Be part of cool Christian movements. Make an impact that reaches thousands. But maybe sometimes we fail to see that there is beauty in dull routines. There is beauty in boring same old actions. There is always a chance to make a difference, despite being stuck in a place where nothing seems to be moving or improving. 

We are all where we're supposed to be. Right now. At this very moment.

#2 Participating

I can't believe that I haven't been here since January.

I guess it's like what Charlie from The Perks of Being a Wallflower wrote, y'know, perhaps I'm trying to participate more in life. Perhaps I no longer have the time to write all these feelings down. Perhaps.

Life's been mundane as ever. But there's a beauty behind it, as always.

I feel like I'm slowly getting back to who I was. It's exciting and scary at the same time. I miss being this person. It's like I've lost my true self over the years of anger and pain but right now everything seems alright. I'm feeling the eagerness to participate in life. And it's so weird to feel this way. 

Participating.

Easier said than done, for it requires courage that I still don't seem to possess.