So Help Me God

Christmas time is coming. Everyone's embarking on a blissful happy journey to welcome the end of the year, to reflect on its happenings, and be happy to receive many many presents for the next few days to come.

Dear God, I was really trying to be happy. I was trying and trying and it's so hard. Everytime a jingle comes, everytime when I see people happily buying presents, everytime I go on Facebook and I see yet another friend gets to take a break and go on a holiday, I began to hate myself.

Why is it so hard to put it down? Why of all the times it has to come and attack now? Is it because tis the season to be jolly, and everyone else is jolly, but me?

I've so many things to clean up not just in my life, but also in Facebook, removing pictures one by one after finding out that he's going on a rebound, appealing to others to do the same. I've only stopped at not cleaning up my own hard disk filled with so many things that contains our lives. If these are our memories, so be it. I'll keep it somewhere private where no one else can see it.

And then I looked at the comments I've gotten in those pictures. "The blissful couple", "The happy couple". Why the labels? I wished I could've removed them. It's no longer relevant now we're in this state of mind.

I wish I could stop. I wished I have more courage to deactivate my Facebook and lived my proper life without depending on that so-called social circle. What's the whole point? I've lost the whole point.

I've asked for a leave after some talk over it with my friend over lunch. She seemed to think that it's also incurable unless I go on somewhere to reflect. Now I see what's so appealing about going to travel somewhere out there, it's just to give myself a peace of mind that working can never achieve. I have yet to get a reply from the boss. I hope he understands that I need this.

I don't know if I want to continue having Facebook anymore. It's tough and stupid secondguessing who's at my side and who's at his. I kept thinking that plenty of them don't even see eye to eye with me anymore. I have no qualms about his best friend for being protective towards him, but I always second guess the others. It's bad for me to keep doing that, that I only find comfort in friends I know isn't affiliated to him.

I'm only asking for a way to feel happy, and not get bogged by the workload, and the pain, and feel irritated everytime I hear of a new information about him.

I want to go drink but my income's not sufficient enough to even go out. If I can't even survive, how can I even think of going to Bangsar to join some peers and have a few good drinks in a row without burning a severe hole in my pocket?

I haven't watch a movie for a damn long time and my only companion for movies used to be only him. I'm so busy I can't even make time for movies. What the fuck kind of excuse is that?

I've been trying to listen to the music both of us share and everytime it leaves me crumbling to tears. I've been trying to stand up and man up and each time I fucking falter and go back to who I was.

I'm confused and depressed and a little bit suicidal at times. Wanting to delete my Facebook, delete my life system, delete all the stupid decisions I've made that led me to this point.

Would it be better if I've chosen the internship instead of the community newspaper?

Would I have survived if I went with an environment filled with colleagues instead of just one person and his circle of friends?

Would I have thought of breaking up if these things never happened and I've waited patiently for him to produce his results?

Negative rut? Of course I'm stuck in a negative rut! I've never got a proper chance to pamper myself ever since the break up and all I do is work work work work work!!

I have no shoulder to cry on because my whole family is in a state of devastation as I am with my grandmother's problem! I have no emotional reliance on anyone because I felt betrayed as a human being. Trust? Who am I to trust? Who am I to refer to?

Forget about being strong or tough. I've lost all that capability to heal, but I can't even feel like a proper person anymore.

So help me God. Help this child to remember the reason why she should be alive and well. Help her feel wanted and that she has contributed. Help her, help me.

I'm thankful for the couple of friends I have, but I realised they have their lives to live. I can't bug them for Christmas. They have somewhere to return to.

I go out and it's something negative. I go back home and it's something negative as well. Tell me, was I supposed to be happy my grandmother's like this and we are the ones taking care of her?

Consider this. The fact that I have only giving out minor bursts to people is already a miracle of its own. I'd expected something bigger. I've been hiding my feelings from so many people. Some people suggested that I should be honest with those I'm working with. But I also say, would I bother telling somebody who doesn't give priorities to them?

If I have a Christmas wish, it'll be this. That I can get through my last 2 weeks of 2010 having resolved all problems inside my heart, that I could reach an agreement with my friends when it comes to prioritising between me and him, that I can finally let go.

So, help me, God.

Let it Out

Until recently, I've only been hearing songs that are only relevant to me. Only something that I'd like. It was a very precious and awesome "me" time.

But then, I realised I can't escape forever, I still need to go back to those times when we shared the same interest for some songs. Plus, they were really good songs, plentiful of meanings.

So I did. And true enough, my fears came true. Every verse sung out, every tune played, the flow of good memories came back.

I kept playing the song. The memories of us laughing as we sit down in your house, watching the latest anime episode, the way I snuggled on your shoulder, the way I sometimes just climb over and sat down on your lap and you secured me with the bestest teddy bear hugs, it all came back.

I was genuinely happy. I can safely say that. I was genuinely happy. Happy that I was with you, happy for that blissful life, happy, because it was one of the nicest things that happened to me because it was so simple. It was our world.

It was crazy of me to venture out into the bad bad world alone, now as I faced another doubtful road in my life, I realised I have no one to look back to. It's okay to see I have people in front of me, smiling as they tried to pull me into the adult world. All monitoring and observing me as I walk like a baby, occasionally tumble and fall, they were all there ready to catch me, and let me try again.

But if only, if only, when I look back and I realised if I do fall back, no one will be there to help and support me. Why? All expected me from the front, they did not expect me to fall back. The moment I do the roads will disintegrate and perhaps I'll fall further down the darkening abyss.

Same goes for what I expect from the relationship. I'd always thought I'll heal faster than everyone else because, I was different, I was stronger, I was way more matured.

But what happens, when I tried walking the exact same path I walked with you? I allow all the past memories and happiness came back to capture me, and realising that I walked alone, I cried.

But I have to, I have to continue listening to those songs we cherished so much, because they were good songs. The only difference is I have to learn to stop crying over it, and instead just smile. They were all good memories, I'm not going to break it.

I've also realised work is not the only way out. I can't be working forever to hide from my sadness, I can't be smiling forever. Sometimes I'd imagine, that while my smile is always sincere to others, I don't really allow anyone else to see who I really am, I'm still as mysterious, as unpredictable.

I think, if I can, present my resignation. Repay the car debts to my mother, and then go embark on a restful journey.

Goodbye November; Hello December

A terrible month has ended. Thank goodness for me.

Despite November being my birthday month, I have nevertheless felt like I'm in the worst state of mind when it comes to handling relationships, friendships, career, and family.

Firstly, my career was at a lost, I'm completely lost. I've lost all my objectives on being and staying there. Everything I did was just to justify my very own existence. Why not? When all my ideal thoughts are taken away from me, when I grovel to seek and find what my purposes are in this world full of complexities.

My boss always try to look at the simplest aspects of life but yet, taught me ways to not forgot the world's complexities. I'm still trying to grab that concept and mold it into my principles. Much as I admire his stand and the way he sees things, I don't agree to everything he stands for, and that's fine between the both of us. In some ways, I should be scared if I don't feel some resistance towards what he stands for in things. Again, I'm still learning, so I'm taking it with a pinch of salt.

Secondly, relationships. I guess it pretty much ended the way I intend it to: no bitterness, no long term heartaches, no resentment, no disastrous aftermath. I guess I pretty much made it clear to him that this is what I want, and so far, we have yet to make things sour. We just left the bond there; perhaps when one of us got the courage to pick it up to see each other, we will. Otherwise, I'm pretty satisfied that my intention was made clear and we had a mutual understanding. Of course, there was a short while where the heartache was made piercingly, and I spent 2 nights crying over it. But thanks to a bunch of friends, I've pulled it through, and continued my life. That is until the third thing happened.

Yea, the dreaded Third, my family. I found my grandmother with a bloated tummy one morning after a frustrating run to the TM store only to find out that the promotion I needed has ended. Feeling a lot of strain after that when my mother called to make me work. I have my own workload but I have to compromise. And then finally, broke down again. I've never felt so scared in my life ever since my grandfather's incident and when I had to go into the ambulance for the second time, I felt so emotionally strained.

For the first time, I did what I've always intended to do: go overnight somewhere, anywhere, but not in the house. And I've never felt better after that. Okay, maybe feeling better is the wrong answer, but I've felt calmer and more ready to take on challenges. Therefore there wasn't any stress other than family stress at this moment that makes me feel this way. Working somehow has become my avenue to release tension as I run around for news.

Fourth, Friends. Never in these darkest moments that I know I've kept that few good friends. They were really supportive and attentive to what I have to say, and did not discard my issues easily. I find comfort knowing that I have gone through their thicks and thins, and now they are now helping me go through mine. Honestly, without the support of friends, this month of November would be hell to go through.

Finally, my resolution in December: Do what I like to do, concentrate on rearranging my life so that it's back to the way I like it, enjoy the everchanging process, as 2010 is nearing its end and looking at 2011 over the horizon, I must say it's pretty good to soar through my end of the year with a big bang.

So Goodbye November, Good Riddance too. And Hello December, Please Don't Disappoint Me.

Cheers!

Bloodshot

To be honest, I looked like a mess on my birthday.

I had a drink with my employer. He knew I was feeling pain from the breakup, and crazily offered one bottle of vodka. I tell you, vodka should always be drank cold, but we were in a hotel with the basic necessities, and ice is not one of them. In case this sounds weirder further, my boss brought his teenage son along so there was no hanky panky involved.

I kept drinking that thinner-like vodka, thought to drown out what I've been feeling. We have a long chat about life, philosophies, experiences (more like his than mine), of course, he took the opportunity to teach me the lecherous men, men who pry on vulnerable women, women like me who just broke up, emotional, had no where to go.

"Never ever go to that stage," he said, as he let out another puff of smoke. I was falling into his "trap", first by being hesitant, then, under the influence of alcohol, slowly sitting on the bed, and finally just lying and hugging any pillow I find. What he said next, scared me to no end. All this while I've never thought men are capable of doing such things to me, mainly because, I'm not that attractive at all! But what he said jolted me awake, I was no longer drunk crazy. He woke me up. I was really hesitant to think of men like that, possibly because I was under the care of a very great guy for so long, I've forgotten men's real nature.

I'm not sure if that was meant to be philosophical, but oh, it did make me become more defensive towards men. What more when it's double confirmed by a friend I know who's goes socialising around, and confirms of such a species that prys on lonely, vulnerable women drinking. Of course I felt afraid, I don't believe what I've just heard, but of course, my bad, I've almost forgotten the evils certain men can do to a woman, therefore, that was a good wake up call.

Then, my stomach started to feel uncomfortable, at first, I thought I could hold it in, and continued talking, but then the discomfort became too great. I excused myself, quickly went to my room, and puked. All the dinner contents just came out. I was definitely pissed drunk to actually be at that state. I couldn't care how I smelt, all I know is, this is too uncomfortable, I need to puke it out.

And then I took a good look at myself. My face was pale, and my eyes were bloodshot. It was as if my blood's drained from my face and into my eyes. For the first time, I knew that I looked like a mess. I knew it wasn't worth it to reduce myself to that state because I've lost someone dear to me. If we do have fate, perhaps we can be together again. But until then, my life's my handling. Good vodka, pity I vomitted it out.

It ended with a "Happy Birthday" from the boss, plus a hug. I felt nice for a moment, and then remembered what he said, and pulled back lol. I ain't risking anything.

I puked twice after that, and ended up with a bleeding throat, as in, my phlegm came out bloody if I ever want to spit. Vodka really does nasty things to my inner organs. What a way to celebrate my 22nd Birthday. Good, crazy start.

The life of whether I choose to get laid or not hahaha. The life of possible meet-ups, possible mutual attractions, possible crazy sex, possible meeting another long term love, but mostly just career focused. Plus, the men I meet are all too old for me. Pfft, I've got my standards! I want young, good looking, ambitious fellas. Not old ones. I admit that they have their charms but a life with them is not in my list. My partner has to made me feel crazy about him even after a few decades together.

So yea, what a crazy birthday. I don't mind going through that again. Except, I'll chill the vodka the next time. Warm vodka is very lethal.

It's Official

I've broken up with Marc.

I've lost my confidante, my best friend, the first one to give me cuddles whenever I need one, the only one who stood by me for almost 4 years.

I've lost him.

I will now put my focus in my career, my life path.

Not interested in guys anytime soon.

I wouldn't have want it any other way

It does eat into me.

The separation was over and done with, I initiated it because I know I no longer harbour any new feelings of love, just plain complacency and comfort due to a very long relationship.

And now I've spent my days doing almost everything but achieving nothing in terms of social life. It's a painful process that I have to digest even if it means going through it alone.

I wished I knew how to stop the feeling when it started spreading in July, when I suddenly started becoming unsatisfied and whatever I do with him, it's just another process, just to make sure I feel secured and safe. But I know it is slowly not going to be.

Yet, it's hard to dispel or even throw him out. He was after all my confidante for almost four years. To see this bond dying inside it makes me really angry at myself.

Ever since Chiang Mai, everything changed. Everything I see about life changed. I got control over what I do and for the first time, I'm proud that I could do it.


It's selfish of me because I was that same person who surrendered her liberty in exchange for commitment to one of the best person I've ever had. We had so much in plan together, so much to look forward to, so much things we share in common and yet, here I am, telling him that we should start over, that we can't go on. My goals changed over the years and his changed too.

We're now doing what we want but how we got there costs us this precious relationship. In a way, I can't live like this with him anymore and therefore I opted out.

Obviously my love was lost ever since July and I can never bring it back again. But I wouldn't have want it any other way. If time reversed back to the day I've decided to be with him at 18 years old, I would, I really would have do it, and I would've also tried to figure out why I do this by July.

But it's all too late, too late to tell and figure out the dents and the cracks. I no longer want to fix it. I just want to let it go.

But it's hard. It's so hard.

The Mild Challenge, Plus the "Of Course....But" mentality

I haven't curse for a damn damn damn long time. Fucking sucks. Whew, finally let that out of my chest.

I admit to one thing, which is, working life has made me so much milder. I don't know who I can insult and who I can't, I don't know what to expect, and all I have been listening to are old people tell me what can I do bla bla bla....Sometimes it's sickening, but you have to put up that really subtle smile to show that you're listening.

To be honest I'm intrigued to take up the challenge my boss just issued to me. But wow, it is tough. Engaging corporates? Eeek. It's intimidating. Plus, I hate those buggers.

This is my "Of course...But" mentality playing inside my head. It is intimidating to be, at this young and raw stage, to engage such high profile people. But yet, if you want people to take you seriously, is this what I have to do?

Not to mention I haven't settle the many things occuring in my life, my family, my dread of staying in this place....I need to move out and yet I have no idea, no direction. Oh, and my love life is at a standstill as well. I'm no longer putting it as a priority. But even then, I don't know how to put career as priority. I'm still learning to adjust to that phase.

Strangest thing is that I've approached this company because I want to pursue another goal, but it became impossible to maintain both. I guess I did become jaded after awhile, especially since it's really hard to maintain both work. One pursues some national issue, the other focuses on everything on a grassroot level. I'm

And again, personal space and freedom becomes an issue. And it's a big issue for me. People have been telling me, "oh you must do this, do this, you don't have the money for it," then fuck you, you want to help me or just keep me downtrodden for the rest of my life? Nothing positive's coming out of their mouths, god damn it.

Not to mention that I don't have a business-mind in my head. I want to hone a position where I live comfortably and enjoy life. I have a phobia about advertisers and writing for them. I hate that concept, oh super-hate that concept. Approaching some business corporate, pitching to them on how they can advertise into the papers. Granted, I know where the boss' intentions go to, yet I fear, loathe and hate all these, these corporate bullshit.

I'm sure everyone else does not hate it, because that is what kept the papers alive, but sigh...I don't know why I hate/fear/loathe it aplenty. Must be the Vincent Tan effect.

Does this mean I have to pay attention to business news as well? Being able to tell the different advances in some corporate shit? Can't my life just be purely happy, and philosophical at best?

Or is this my inner naivete talking to me? Telling me I'm not ready.

Sometimes I wished I was an artist, leave the image consulting to some other bloke. You just focus on what you do now, leave me there, bursting headful of creavities on paper or canvas, or even into a song.

This is all so new to me. I don't like the direction I'm going.

Your sight range is not my sight range

It's easy to determine how you view a situation based on your personal experiences, by illuminating this disgusting act of telling it to everyone else so that it becomes a general stereotype.

But it's easy to understand why so, when personal experience overshadows the bigger perspective. I cannot agree more when my personal experience clouded the reality, or was it the other way around?

There was this debate on a blog about feeling the shame outside of the country because another foreigner had been laughing at the shameless act of bribery in the country; this country, in fact. He felt so bad he actually wish there was a hole to dig in.

It was an unusual story of course. Many foreigners I've met with were polite enough not to mention about the bribery act like it was a laughable thing, or in retrospect, the foreigners I met were sympathetic and understanding enough to know bribery is not an act exclusively happening in Third World countries. I posted the same blog post up on Facebook to share, hoping to see the debates and I posted some of my arguments.

I've had people who, ranged from having the same shameful feeling, to feeling outraged at the foreigner's outlandish comments in a very sophisticated setting, to feeling that they are agreeing with the author, that this is a statement they should accept and then work from within.

Indeed, one even asked if this is worth fighting for.

I'm reproducing my full arguments here.

"I'm thinking really hard on how to reply these comment because while yes, I did think some of the African's statements are true (depending on when he was in Malaysia actually, because honestly I don't see the corruption rampage anymore since 2008), but I don't think the Malaysian should be subjected to that kind of embarrassment.

While the nation has made some past mistakes and has been a subject of laughter in the foreign world, as far as I'm concerned, if I was in his position, I would at least try to correct the man instead of feeling this embarrassment. Perhaps I'm naive enough to stand up to that statement because I've felt that Malaysia has changed, or perhaps working with the police force in many occasions allows me to have some personal bias that his statement of 'all cops are on the take' really cheeses me off. Not all cops are dirty, and vice versa. I don't believe in a country that is 'corruption free' and to label Malaysia as the only place to have such rampant activities depicts that the foreigner has a 'holier than thou' attitude.

Was it worth getting worked up on? Yes, I would say so. Very few Malaysians (who dares to call themselves Malaysians anyway) are in the international arena and if they start to agree with these generic images these foreigners have on Malaysia, then no one is going to see the change the Malaysians work from within. It's tough enough to conjure an image and these prejudices may just destroy it all. Like, what do people think of Taiwan?Many remember their Parliamentary fist fights, some call it democracy, some call it menace. That image sticks to you and you know it's hard to shake off. I'm pretty sure Thailand will have the Red Shirts Yellow Shirts image stuck in people's heads for many years after these incidences have passed.

It's not nationalism or patriotism. It's very hard for me to explain why I did have the burning feeling when I read that foreigner's comment, but I'm certainly not going to encourage this level of ignorance, knowing the law and purposely breaking it, only to laugh at it many years later at someone's face. If he was wrongfully caught for speeding, and he had to pay a bribe for it, sure, I'd feel embarassed because corruption was so bad a police would do anything to get his RM50's worth. But to a person who knew he was subjected to the law and he broke it for the fun of it? I think anyone should be pissed, not just Malaysians."

That was my argument and that was my hope. I wasn't even hoping that foreigners would see the "Malaysia is a multi-racial country living in the same place" kind of imagery bullshit. I even allowed myself to confess this personal bias that due to working with the community newspaper, police have been one of the few people I get in touch with, allowing me to see that they are not all that.

I was feeling bad for the guy for being persecuted like that in that kind of social setting. But seeing his reply I no longer feel so.

It turns out, his personal experience overshadows his general perception, he had to agree with what the foreigner said. He was caught by the traffic police and always for the reason to "bribe". That's how sad the country was, and still is, to him.

I can only conclude that his sight range is not my sight range because he's unfortunate enough to have been under what I've described in my argument to justify why was it worth fighting for. I'm fortunate enough not to be asked to commit bribery, that I'm in a place where we can change the mindset of Malaysians to start thinking like a community instead of "Corporate Malaysia", that though I'm still as hardcore about national issues I also know we're all fighting in smaller circles before the bigger picture can be brought down.

As for him? I'm not him, I'm not jaded yet. Here's my concluding words from Citizen Nades' twitter while he was in London:

"Met some misinformed msians who think they know abt msia sitting in london. They hv nothing good to say. Screw them"

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I'm too comfortable

with my life to even nag or complain about it.

Hrmmm....need a hobby....need a life....

Complacency is a sucky phase. Like, I can never step out of it, or I just couldn't afford to get out of it.

E.g: Moving out of the house at this moment, not an option

Why? Too young, too dangerous, too unreasonable

Staying comfortable won't help though. Stupid internet.

Ramble ramble ramble.

Yakkity

I miss my turbulent times. At least I make better poems and better blog entries. Now I'm just a big mush of boredom.

Bah

Too many questions, the need to escape, again

Again I feel like escaping from this place I live in. What's up with that?

Just as again I heard how my grandmother chokes on the softest of food, I feel the need to run away from this place who will soon be too depressing to stay in when my grandmother did move on to another realm. I hate it when death occurs, really do hate it ever since I got that shock of my life.

I also feel the need to have privacy. Since young I never get my own room, I probably got my own corner but that's about it. If I want my own space the only space I go to is my boyfriend's room (which isn't really that private) or my own brain. And now when I'm working and my brain's constantly spilling out and I can't contain it anymore.

How sad is it for a human to just want to get her own private area? Hate being such a human sometimes. I don't need and yet crave connection and communication. I want to rant on Facebook but since I have added my boss, sometimes it's just coincidental my problems are coinciding with the work he gave me. If I rant, wow, I don't know what to say or how to reply back. The perils of adding your current boss into Facebook...

If I was given this one day to rest, would I want to just drive and drive and drive away? Until I reach the end of the solar cycle? (just stupid talking). I guess I'm very fascinated with the idea of running away because I've watched Honey and Clover and honestly that took up a lot of guts to just off your handphone and communication devices and just go on your windy road. In the real world, doing that and you'll end up with a police report and some team trying to search for you.

Who else then have a dream like mine? Just escape, escape, fucking escape? Do I need to do something to my life or my thinking to really feel like I'm not burdenning anyone? What is it missing? What is it? That I cannot feel liberated and soar through without feeling that something is holding me back?

And Just who the Heck am I living for? Why do I get the feeling it's not about me, but always about someone else? Someone else who I deemed more important but not myself? Am I even serious when I say that? Am I even trying to figure it out when I say that?

Perhaps I'm too ashamed of myself, perhaps I don't know if I've ever tried harder. Perhaps my confidence level hasn't been released and I constantly get pushed down so easily.

Bah. Escape!!

I wanna puke

But before I do so with my unwell stomach as it is, allow me to go into this immense ranting about how undeserving this position that happens to precede me before I accept the reality in which I happen to come across upon with no warning signs.

I envy girly girls who can afford to look like they just came as descendents of the Moon Goddess, pretty, nice looking, always getting the buzz of attention.

I'm a slob standing next to them. In fact, I'm a guy standing next to them. Totally.

Do I get guys' attraction by giggles and playing up the natural pheromones most girls actually spread around? Nope, I astonished them with amazing geekery, speaking vulgar, and have this large tendency to pat people on the back like a guy do.

I'm exaggerating of course about the vulgar and pat back part, not the geekery sadly.

I wasn't too fancy about being such a girly girl but wow, I wish the world could give non-girlies a break.

So I hate skirts, hates bags (backpacks FTW), and purses, it doesn't make me any less attractive than those girly girls.

And I'm not a tomboy either. I don't fancy having my hair short, or wearing baggy jeans. I'm just not the person who's at either extreme. I'm a girl with long hair who despises acting like a girl.

It's possible that Marc saw me for who I was, obviously, but to think about it, what happens if he's not with me? Am I destined to spend my next life hoping to find a man who does find me attractive in a non-normal sort of way that will send everyone else on the edge?

Just saying.

Now it's time for me to continue ponder the urge of puke. Bye

It's getting real

I remember after watching the video of A.Kugan's mangled body I immediately froze. Partly because that was a really distraughting video, that Malaysiakini chose to post on of all place, Youtube; partly because he was only the same age as Marc when he died.

I hung on tight to Marc, but I've never showed him the video. To me, he wasn't the kind of person who'd be interested in such videos or such issues. But I did tell him I was afraid of the same thing happening to him because these youths are being suppressed, threatenned and now, killed. He assured me it will never happen, not among our friends or family.

How wrong he was.

Activists who were parading the candlelight vigil on August 1 were arrested and placed in lock-ups. One of them, was Marc's friend. He wasn't too worried but it was obvious that he got slightly disturbed that the police force were so hard-handed this time around, even though there might or might not be a permit for this to go on.

I just nudged and told him: "It's getting real".

Yes, we youngsters who used to "dream" and view such things always say it'll never happen on us, possibly because we were so caught up in our bubble of comfort and class, that we are immune to these things that some day it will never occur to us.

Well it did. And we need to get real to embrace that. To put aside the fears and address what is really wrong with the country.

I don't want to be dramatic and say "to die for this country", but anything can happen. Maybe spending a time in the lock up, maybe to be scolded at by your superiors for writing such an article that paints it badly against government, maybe it's about trying to convince the youngsters to look with their eyes, and that if they do take sides, who is to blame them?

The problem with being in one side: in my case, the liberal side, is that we forgot to take into account what other people felt like in the other side of the spectrum. I went to the camp, and with it I brought my ideologies. I met this girl and I have to say, I took great stride not to feel offended by her remarks about the world and its mechanisms. Turns out I was wrong to assume everyone is liberated. She came from Vietnam, to which I did not know (and don't judge me because I never follow the Vietnam War) it is a Communist country. So really, we sometimes bring these ideologies thinking others are sharing the same and then you realised, when you take great pains NOT to feel offended by her ideologies you're actually prepared to be listening. Even though you lapsed and complained about her sometimes when she's not around. Self-proclaimed guilty gossipy person here.

So yea, while we should get real and address issues like abolishment of oppressive policies, should we also blame the police force for what they do? Should we actually analysed and say "who are these people? the grunts or the commander?" Based on what I've been reading about these ISA arrests, they sounded more like the grunt than the commander. And these people are the ones getting criticised at.

Sure, this is the police force, you people may argue. They should be aware of their powers and how they could've use, or abuse them. Sure, then the people would also be aware of their powers, and how they could've use, or abuse them. Then it'll become a neverending debate on who's power should succumb to who really.

There'll always be two sides of the powers that attempts to take over the hearts of the majority. The interesting part is who eventually will win and tell their side of the story via the media? But that's left for another post for discussion.

The problem is to make people wake up and exercise their responsibilities. The problem is getting to burst these people's bubble and say "get real! if the force is coming you think you won't be spared?". And the problem of course, was to balance the arguments between these two sides and choosing in the end to believe in which one.

I do know this one small accomplishment: Marc is actually starting to be aware. It'll be tough trying to push for something bigger, but a small poke of awareness can lead to bigger actions in the future.

I'm hopeful. Because everything is getting real for all of us. The power struggles, the leadership exercises, the agony and discontent of the people. It's getting real.

The Dreamer

He was sitting up the left side of his bed, looking out to the scenery beneath him. Inside, head throbbing, struggling to figure out what just happened. A hand touched him. He jumped.

"What's wrong?"

A woman just sat up, clearly more well asleep than he was, tousle-haired, looking bewildered.

"Nothing. Just go to sleep. Dreaming again"

Dreaming again...

He was a dreamer, he saw this set of goals which he needed the steps to accomplish a goal.

But no, he did not achieve it.

He saw his set of goals to build a series of companies after he graduated. He talked about the many people he would love to visit so that his plan will go on as planned, he talked about how, building this very empire will secure him a sustainable life in the future.

How the girl of his dreams will then remain with him all the time....

But, the girl he's sleeping with was not that girl. No, she knew him after he secured a job, went for something smaller.

He went for something smaller because he couldn't act on what he dreamt of. He just kept dreaming and dreaming, talking about all that ideologies he have. But he never act on it.

That girl of dreams got fed up hearing. Told him

"I love a dreamer, but I hate one that only continues dreaming"

She just left. She became his wake up call.

She was getting a head start of doing things while he went on talking about dreams. And just one day, she wasn't keen on hearing anymore.

He stood up, woke up. Realised, all that dreams were unnecessary. He tried, but failed, because he couldn't even go through the first step: act upon it. The tons of excuses given for not acting on it. It was just crazy.

"All success stories came from a crazy idea, but it has to be acted upon"

He missed that step, he kept on dreaming. And he lost that girl of his dreams.

He became afraid of dreaming, and sleeping. The moment he dreamt he'll just shook himself awake. His current girl will not understand why. He brushed it off as something minor, saying he's a light sleeper.

But he knew inside, he was very afraid to continue on dreaming.

And then he sleep again, making sure, nothing else penetrates his mind.

Not even, her.

No Regrets

I just came back from the most enriching camp for the time being. The trainers, the participants, the people I talked to back home who have a different perspective of me. It was magical. I don't regret it when Rin tagged me on Facebook, told me to join this once in a life time to participate and learn more about the media.



I've got a few awards and I'm honestly quite proud of them. Met some really cool, friends, not to mention that they are sexah! Can't get over some smoldering good looks of certain male participants and trainers, can't get over some really beautiful sounding accents, and certain fun people around.



By the way, Chiang Mai = shopping haven! I love the fact I could find stuff easier than in Malaysia itself. Found two grungy looking t-shirts that are enough to curb my hunger for Ed Hardy-esque clothes for the time being. Marc loves the shirt I bought for him, Mom loves her tribal top, Sis and Brother are happy with the chocolates I bought back since I can't find anything for them.

I've got a tattoo. And no, I have no regrets. It's the only thing that combines religion and my love for tattoos, of course I have no regrets. I've been wanting a tattoo for the longest time, and it's so secretive that only my family and my boyfriend know about it. Imagine the shock when everyone knew I was about to get a tattoo, not just for the video I'm shooting in the camp, but to bear it for the rest of my life. People may pass judgment on me for being the "wild" girl, "rebel", but after seeing the religious symbolism in it they were awed at this determination. Such double face, but I have to get used to it right?

I have to start work very soon. I was worried, worried that I have no time, worried that I'll screw up, but a chat with my editor revealed that my worries were just for nuts. Of course every rookie starts somewhere, of course they're bound to make mistakes, why the worry? And of course my editor had to joke that it's his job to soothe the nerves of the journalist la. Cis, one day when my jokes are more refined than his I'll rebut him.

Deep down though, I'm glad. I'm glad I can afford to be busy, to be taking in all the sights and sounds, taking in the busy-ness of it all, establishing my stand. What am I here for? What else can I do to share my part of the story? What did I write that's memorable?

For the moment, I'm going to take up jobs at the stride, enjoy my life to the fullest, never be afraid of asking crazy questions, never be shy, but of course, keep my mouth shut at the right moments. I mean, I'm not THAT into spotlighting myself. But to stop myself from loving what I've always loved to do? NO WAY.

In the end as I walk out in the semi-working world without having bogged down by the social pressures. Now that I've done some rather crazy stuffs, there's no harm trying some more crazy adventures and then be proud to talk about it whenever I can. I mean, hey, I'm not bragging.

I have no regrets at the moment. Am living exactly what I love to do.

However, I can't be hold accountable if in the future I complain. But I'm trying hard not to. Complaining isn't bringing me anywhere, the best way is still to "consult" to seek advice from the right people.

See you. My tales will be unravelled soon.

Quick update

I like the freelance jobs although honestly it's fucking tough. But hey, it builds my character.

I'm in Chiang Mai with Rin. Positive thinking will lead the way.

My mom's finally being understanding.

Yay.

Weakling

I feel ashamed. But I have nowhere to confess to about this stupid-ass situation I'm in except for my blog, which is filled with goddamn spam. No real person will comment, maybe they'll read but probably will not comment.

I feel that my future is totally not in my hands at all. I have yet to have something to prove and now I don't have anything to prove until...forever.

I'm stuck, between getting this internship of a lifetime and being stuck with a newsdesk job for the rest of my life slogging my way writing propagandhas even before I could learn other newswriting techniques. Has people ever fucking wonder why I never do other things, like a second internship or other media camps even though I looked like I have the calibre to. Oh, that's right, this little pussy here is afraid of her mother!

My mother controls every aspect of my life even though my only choice was my choice of education! And EVEN then she sees the "good" side of working with The Star, The Sun, NST. Like I'm supposed to because even if I "hated" their politics, I can always opt for Metro or community news because it's relaxing enough and they pay well! She sees, the fucking pay. I really cringe everytime she talks about the monetary choices. I really don't feel like doing this.

I once interviewed the editor for Merdeka Review and she said that, if any, journalists in Malaysia are becoming like reporters. You report what you see, but you don't conduct research and not enough facts checking due to the limitations of time. After I've heard her, I became really afraid of putting my first step into Malaysian journalism. The moment I step in I definitely cannot pull back out. It's MY principles I'm going against here and I've been very strict about my principles in life. I can't just fucking BEND it because of MONEY!

Then I consulted my thesis supervisor and she said unless I don't plan to stay in Malaysia, I can always opt for Malaysiakini, because apparently from what she said, people who worked for the "other side" will be "blacklisted" by the "pro" side even if she has the right crediantials, and the problem will be I'm writing propagandha for the other side as well. Of course, this I cannot confirm since I only hear it from one person.

So where do I stand now? I'm stuck with lesser than perfect technical skills and writing skills, I hope to improve it while doing this internship but my mother's telling me to see other options because who knows??? Who knows that I'll get dragged into this sordid hole of a working life despite what I (don't) know eh?

I'm really a weakling for not being capable of standing even against my mother and even my supervisor "advised" me that I should move out of the country as soon as possible so that I could finally, in her own words, "break the bond and unleash your real potential".

But how? HOW? When I can't even make it through the first step?

I've been asking around for advise because the internship does not pay. Yes, does not pay, as this is how it is for interns from the Western media. Now you see why I call it the internship of a lifetime. One friend suggested tutoring, others say, they cannot help me at all. Reason? My internship time is so flexible even I cannot determine a time to dedicate myself to working a 9am-5pm part-time or something and they just don't see why I should take the internship. I could be on-call 24/7 and it does not provide any pay for the time and effort used on it.

But why do I insist? Because I've attended the interview and I could sense that we can work together. Plus, she's not really a fraud since my supervisor has seen her on television. The only thing is that they think it's cheap labour since I will only get reimbursements of my expenses.

TRUE, it's cheap labour, I get it, I'm working cheap. But don't anyone see that I do NOT, repeat: DO NOT want to start working until I'm confident that I've learnt enough?? And this internship is just fucking staring into my face giving me a choice to learn somemore and what issit everyone else see? MONEY, because, the law of survival says degree holders should be aiming for money already for their first job. Not an internship. Which is ironic considering the internship requires the people to have newsroom experience which is something I've gained and that I have time to consider a second internship, AFTER completing my studies.

And now, I'm stuck, because in 3 weeks' time I'm going to fucking send my resumes to places I wasn't even sure if I can be happy working due to my mother who wasn't supportive because the media apparently is not what she think it is! GODDAMNIT!!

Tell me now, is it wrong to think this way? Is it wrong to learn somemore before I chase my dreams?

Now I'm in a moral dilemma that I cannot escape from, and I need help.

I don't want to continue my life living under my mother's!!

The Fushigi Yuuki Lesson

I'm a self professed anime geek as a child. The pre-dead dad days of 13 when Astro's AXN was showing this really promising anime called Fushigi Yuuki, or the English name The Mysterious Play. I couldn't stop watching despite having Dad yelling at me or I refuse to budge from completing the last minute homework. Good thing I was in afternoon school too, becasue they always have repeats in the morning when my whole family was watching Hong Kong series every 8pm when the episodes of Fushigi Yuuki premieres.

It's a story about these two schoolgirls, Miaka and Yui who are the best of friends, stumbled across this legendary book (sorry if I don't know the name, memory's fuzzy. It's been 9 years). And unknowingly got stuck in Ancient Fictional LAnd (I'd say China. But that's just me) and struggles to get back to their own world. They discovered in horror that they were both female maidens that could call upon supreme beings that protect the very land of two separate tribes:- Suzaku and Seiryuu.

I don't want to dwell too much into the story because it was long. I only finished watching it after my father passed away. Yeah, it was that long lol. But that anime taught me a few things about human relationships and strangely, sexuality.

For one, the schoolgirls are both targets of lecherous inside the book world because as maidens of the supreme being, they are virgins, therefore making their powers pure (sensing the irony?). The trouble is that Miaka is err......highly aroused by falling in love with one of her warriors Tamahome. She tries offering to him plenty, and I really mean PLENTY of times. What with the accidental boob showing (always to the warrior, not to the audience, don't worry), the seductions, the long extensive makeout sessions, you'd think it's not content that should be watched by a 13 year-old. But I did, stood there, sincerely hoping some much needed "action" to be taken by the guy since the girl OFFERED herself so many freaking times, and the warrior never took it. That's such a man.

But it does not stop other guys who tries to take that away though. So it's an adventure itself: Protecting virginity from others while controlling one's self desire. Because the moment you enter the canal, you deplete her pure powers. (I'm trying not to make it a pun. Honest).

Another revolves around two people actually: Hotohori and Nuriko. Hotohori, despite being the king of the land of Suzaku, is a narcissist. He loves his image a lot, and often profess to be the land's most beautiful man. Nuriko is a man who cross dresses as a woman since young in memory of his dead sister. Poor Miaka had to dip in the pool with Nuriko because she did NOT realised she was a HE. And Nuriko is in love with Hotohori, and also in a friendly rivalry with Miaka because she/he kissed Tamahome. Hilarity ensues of course.

One thing is that I realised they are very comfortable at portraying different sexual personalities. It was certainly a mind blowing experience for me. But I'm impressed at how open Miaka is to sexually express herself to that one guy. She loves him, so she wants to have sex with him. Or maybe because she might leave the book world soon, but that was one striking example I admire about her. It did challenge my thinking later about viewing a female's virginity later on. Some judgmental people may just call her a slut for being so openly expressive about her love for someone, but it left a deep imprint in my head on how I see a guy the next time I fell in love with someone.

And it's with this anime I start to know about the different sexual personalities, like a man who freely falls for another man, a man who's not shy to fall in love with his looks. It's astounding, mind blowing, and at the same time, it was because of this kickstart I was comfortable by the time I actually see guys like them, if I ever see any.

Maybe some of you may say it was rather inappropriate that I was exposed to such lessons at a young age. But when then, will we learn to see the exploration of other sexualities and perhaps doubt ourselves to learn acceptance over such personalities? I've seen a few sexualities in friends, and sometimes I do wonder if I like both sides. But I definitely learnt that a girl should not shy away from expressing how much she loves someone, as do it will be her choice if she wants to give away her virginity and not for others to judge.

Sadly, I'm not without any barriers. Not going to elaborate here ;). I'm just good, open-minded enough.

That's the end of my Fushigi Yuuki lesson. Ciao.

Some maybe a little judgmental over how I receive my lessons, whether it's through storybooks, television or movies, when in the past people always say "oh you must read a book to receive knowledge". Well, I'm not the past, I'm the present, and yes, I do get my lessons from watching anime and Youtube, or reading a blog post online. It's just the way I take things nowadays, not just books. Thank you. Ciao

Unprepared

So in true adult fashion, I'm supposed to start a journey on creating a happy career life after graduation.

I just got my results. I cannot say that I'm happy about it because honestly I didn't want it to slip further. Now it's just enough for me to obtain a Second Class Upper as I graduate with that name, but thinking that I have never actually obtained more than 3.3 throughout my degree year, I daresay this is what I could best achieve for somebody without "hard work" as my mom would claim. On the other hand, my thesis got an A and it's something I'm proud of. Since I have not really look around for a job, I think I can use this time to polish my resume.

Been spending day and night either going out with boyfriend, or gaming at home, with a short interlude of going to Krabi. That was really fun times, albeit imperfect, but fun. It leaves a not-so-sad ending for the lot of us actually, whether or not we will actually see each other or bother to call each other again.

I find myself being really unmotivated to go out and do something about my life. Granted, I've been reading so I'm pretty sure my mind is intact, not the mention the various things I've been reading, but I've been cutting down on catching up the local political news. I probably felt bored about listening to the same empty promises, the precise anger levels compared to a few years ago, that now when everyone is worried about an economy crisis looming over our heads, something not being scared before.

I do remember this conversation with the Thai taxi driver bringing us around. You can tell he probably had not have a university education, but he spoke with passion on how the Thai government should've helped the people by distributing wealth equally, not spending millions on building roads with asphalt (and as he says it, we do see trucks spraying asphalt around).

I feel amazed. An ordinary Thai citizen that know exactly which branches of the government that does what. How many ordinary Malaysian citizen are that interested in government programmes and what they are doing? Heck, how many know about how much exactly did the government do for us?

I hate being normal. Because being normal means I have to stop thinking outside the box. But I also hate being jibed by my stupid boyfriend everytime I'm thinking about something, everytime I try to explain something and he just interrupts with some stupid quote which does not amuse me. Hate it. You, reading this. I Hate It!

Let me think in peace, I'm not normal, never born to be normal. My existence is defiant towards laws of nature, like being fat, being single-eyelided, being left-handed, being a woman, so let me express my highly delusional thoughts, which will be here sooner or later, because that was the reason why I call this blog My Wild Thoughts.

On a side note, after Krabi, I'm going to Chiang Mai with Rin for Debating and Producing Media workshop. I'm going to let my socks off and learn as much as I can, not letting anything embarass me, because almost nothing can embarass me now =). And I also want to make new friends without the presence of Marc around, so that I have a bunch of friends only I can relate to.

The workshop is in July, so it will be exciting, but I just need to make June as liveable as possible, since I'm not going for any holidays. The South Korea trip is confirmed cancelled as it is. Probably will start sending out resumes and attend interviews. Most importantly seek consultation since I don't really have a place to go to work yet, therefore my options are larger.

But until then, I'm going to do research on Chiang Mai, enjoy my time, and hopefully, not be bored to death. The only thing good is that I have yet to feel bored.

Here's to a smooth transition phase to the new life.

*Untitled*

I'm an aunt.

The mother is my friend.

She's about my age.

The baby was beautiful.

Mother separated from Father because of family complications.

Mother is unemployed.

I screwed up.

I made my mom paid more.

I hope she forgive me for my mistake.

I hope to pay her back.

The tour trip might be cancelled due to lack of people.

I don't know if I want to go anymore.

Crying as I type. Sucks.

Supposed to go Krabi for enjoyment.

Still going, but with lots of heartache.

What to do.

Least I could do was still support her emotionally.

Least I could do was pay her back.

Least I could do was enjoy Krabi anyways.

For the moment though,

I'm sad.

Might have been a little media-phobic

This was written over 2 months ago and never published. I'm continuing to write even though I don't really feel the same. Still the questions need answering.

I'm going to share some sort of worry that I've never actually tried to cure, plainly because I don't know if it was even an ailment in the first place. That is, until I've conducted a research on it.

You see, my thesis involves finding out if the media have been playing a certain role (full title to be revealed if I ever finish it in the first place). And with the methodologies that I've discussed over with my supervisor, it's best to get some interviews with one of the more well known editors around the media organisation.

Now, you see. I'm a girl born in the late 80's, already engulfed, trapped in the world of Mahathirisms, my perception of the media has always been the more distorted, safer, steering away from everything kind of media. I always have the feeling that everything I've watched and read are sort of...fake. I don't know how to explain it, but I know I'm definitely not living a full life.

Then I got into Journalism. It was an eye-opener for me. I know I have received some sort of political awareness due to my father, often constantly showing me attachments and/or materials to read about politics, but to actually study them is a different breath of air. For once I was concerned and I know this is what I intend to do if I ever have the chance.

But when I started internship and this thesis I find myself confounded, trapped as I wield myself back into the eras of Mahathirism. My friends, some of them, found similar conflicts in their internships. We've discussed this, and now with my supervisor, I'm more than concerned about this ailment that might have existed within most of us late 80's babies.



You see, I might have had..media-phobia. I was born into the era of "safe news", consumed "safe news", read and have only read "safe news". Even till now I'm feeling the after effects of it.



My friends used to tell us their editors during internships lamented about the fact that they were not adventurous, did not actively seek out news to report, did not have the initiative, if anything to be a journalist at all. Many others share the same sentiment from their superiors, each carry the same pang of foreboding towards these would-be journalists.

If anything, I'm afraid, Mahathir's scheme all these while, has succeeded in creating a brain-dead generation, a generation who's fears lay upon the hearings of what he has done in the past to manipulate what has become of today's society. At least, at today's generation of future workers.

And when I talked to my thesis supervisor, my Political Science lecturer, my interviewees, they were talking about the glorious media past, the time when the only thing the media had to be afraid of was the laws that struck them should they be unethical, not laws that bound them to keep them like watchdogs. And it's resonating among that very few interviewees I've kept in touch with because they told me "I'm not willing to do this! I want the law to change!". And so, in some ways, they were extend the same invitation to me, to tell me they want me to understand that all this while, the media operations were, to put it succintly, forced to be "safe".

When I always hear those words, I feel very pressured. I honestly do. I think I have a certain case of media phobia. Why? Because I can't imagine a life living without the shadow of the oppressive media over me. I have never encountered, seen an era when the media was free, was free to report, was free to point out the error of ways and when the ruling coalition would've gladly changed. No, I'm living in a post 80s era where I know nothing but oppression.

And they extended their invitation, they want me to join. But I find it highly impossible, not when I'm clueless to what is the real change behind all of the political turmoil, or will it bring any change at all.

If anything, I do NOT know what is media life like before the Oppression begin. And these people, have had no idea how was life like being under that facade, that we've been given the "best" sort of education but taught us to stop questioning the givers. And it resulted in this.



If you ask me if I have ever asked any hard questions during my time in internship, I dare say it: NO. I have not. I've never prepared myself to ask, and I don't know what is the reaction I'll get and how do I even ask the right questions??



And for a girl who's going to be a journalist who has never ask hard/tough questions, she sure complains a lot about the media.

But at least what's good? That these editors have harboured some hope that the media landscape will change. That they wish to bear some certain changes.

But what hope is there for a girl who has never tried? Does she have to be put into jail for the hopeful things she sees? Does she have to withstand, the pressures from those elder than her, afraid of the circumstances due to her recklessness?

I don't see that tiny inch of hope staying in Malaysia to continue pursuing the media experience. I'm not an activist unfortunately, or at least, I still can't be one, since I'm on call 24/7 to come back if ever something goes wrong >_>. So I could only see two options: 1, leave home and country, 2, take up a safe job that have secure hours.

The worst thing for a young person is to feel desperate and disappointed with the country in this age. I don't want to, but I'm media phobic, and from the looks of it, I'm supposed to be fearless towards oppression at this age as well.

Solace

Handed up my thesis. Finally. I wonder what my grade is.

Enjoys The Listening Post lots. And Infomania. Great shows about media analysis. I'm wondering if I should continue on with media studies, or politics.

Always wonder why I love certain music, but fails to grasp it. Such absent-mindedness. Sometimes this lovely tune passes by me, and by the time I tried to recall, it slipped by again.

My final day didn't turn out anything at all. Just lots of wonders and sadness? Although I don't feel that sad. I have a feeling I'll still be seeing my coursemates around the field anyways.

Haven't been settling down properly to think about my future. I'll do so maybe after exams, or after travelling around. My dreams are there. Hopefully it's achievable.

Wants to rest badly, but need to study. Wish me strength.

My awesome week

Summarised in pictures. How about yours?

Creativity bites

I'm writing about this in view of the troubling events that have kind of affected me, but not in whole as I need to get my thesis done by now actually. But I think I needed a place to talk it out, to discuss about it before I shut myself back to the world of academic writing.

It has something to do with the nerve of the country that aims to suppress what's left of creativity in this country and I don't find that pleasing especially when I came from a background of arts. Never mind the fact that I went to a Science stream class, but I've dabbled with music, drama, speech, and writing long enough to know sometimes it struck a nerve in my chord on the way the government treats the arts.

You know those stupid writing competitions the newspapers have had organised, sometimes winning an ever so awesome trip to Dublin? Well, guess they all did not turn out to be either journalists or columnists do they? Just another regular folk who has had their 5 minutes of fame. And then, there are the people you would remember for the articles they write in the newspaper. I have profound to love Chong Sheau Ching's column (still do. No one writes like her anymore. I need to find that book of hers that compiles all her old column articles.), even though she wasn't someone whom is known to join writing competitions, nevertheless was known around as an author in Malaysia.

And you know the film industry and their brouhaha over the new censorship rules, regulations, bureaucracy, hypocrisy and all, they are still not able to develop that very niche market in Malaysia as of yet: English, like really, English, TV Series that are actually good.

Marc kind of aspired to become a scriptwriter. He studied the subject called screenplay and scriptwriting, and since then he has been really fascinated to know how to write a script, even contemplating sending the scripts to some companies for reviewing. Of course, being a current scriptwriting rookie his first few scripts do look really stereotypical (I'm still trying to get him to think outside the pop culture box. He on the other hand, tries to get me into it >_>), so that is forgiveable.

Some time ago there was this filmmakers who would come to Malaysia to give the supposed workshops. Of course, in the end it was a no go due to the lack of time we had left after the short semester (and it was expensive as hell). There was this competition though, a scriptwriting competition. Joy! Marc could've secured his chance and get something published.

Except: the theme was, 1Malaysia.

Not to say that Marc didn't try. He tried, he thought hard on how to emulate a script based on that theme. But it was too hard: First of all, it's 1Malaysia, to him it is a boring subject to start on. He couldn't write it out, he just couldn't.

Before you go on to say that he's being lazy and all that, how are you going to come up with something 1Malaysia? Would you actually be able to think outside the box to recreate something with a 1Malaysia without the flair of including every single race you can find in Malaysia with happy smiling faces? If that is what you can think of, congratulations, you've been brainwashed till you've grown stale to this.

The second time he felt like this was when his lecturer posted an offer from an institution, a story pitch. It was yet, something about 1Malaysia again.

There are two ways to look into this situation.

1. The 1Malaysia brand is hot. People have done 15Malaysia before and was widely accepted by all races. This new brand is a definite seller, or so the company thinks, that is why the funds goes to the person with the 1Malaysia script.

2. 1Malaysia is the only thing workable around the film censorship board, and the government. It's a machine designed to try and tell the people how much they need this, 1Malaysia, while desperately sweeping the rest of the forgettable and highly intelligent scandals under the carpet. Because, you know, certain Malaysians are stupid like that.

But what it is, congratulations to the way they try to suppress the creative arts.

I admit that I'm not the best writer around. Heck, I'm impressed with my friends who churn out short story after short story for the annual MPH writing competition. I don't have the gutso or the capability of verbal diarrhea. I've tried my hand on writing analyses on this blog before, shamefully, you can dig through them if you want to. And I'm definitely not somebody who can write when there's this "theme" thing hanging over me giving me borders even before I could sit down to think of a concept. But to do that to aspiring scriptwriters, I find it a disappointing way to kickstart a career choice.

And that is why you see Malaysians flying off to California to write/direct/become visual effects/SFX people working at big old Hollywood. Sure, the climb's higher, but it's better than giving the first step climb so steep like the Malaysian film industry does.

Creativity is something honestly, I don't know if I have anymore, to be brainwashed, squeezed out of my juices, and then dumped aside to absorb spoon feed information. I used to have wilder imagination back as a child. Although truth to be told my dad's death was partly the second reason why I've lost what innocence I have, or whatever crazy imaginations I have about myself, the world and other little things. But thank goodness for the other little things, like music, like drama, that I've maintained that bit of kookiness and swear to never let it go ever.

But what about the rest of the individuals struggling to maintain that kookiness of theirs? What can they do since to each his own, I can't transfer the experience I've been through so that they could do their part of being creative. And honestly, not everyone is creative. I won't call myself creative; I call myself crazy, for the random spurs of poetry, for the infinite anger inside, for the melancholy that constantly surrounds me.

Maybe my wish was to know that Marc's choice to not write that script was justified, that in the end it was only a "feel good" factor of seeing yet another youngster shooting the skies with a delicate script having their brands all over it.

In any case, here's my bout of writing, I tried helping him with the scriptwriting so this is how I'm going to start:

You are a Chinese youngster (male or female, your choice) walking down the streets. And you see this little boy (any race will do, the more obscure the better) crying at the end of that street, you stopped to console him. What's weirder, you see him holding a number one.

When you asked, the little boy cried harder. He says "I'm trying to look for another one to give to,". He shows you it. You smiled, asked "Can I have it?"

He shook his head, and looks at you "Look at you, you are split into three!"

You grew puzzled, you look at yourself and then you said "I'm not split, are you sure you are seeing things correctly?"

Then he asked "What are you?"

You said "A Chinese". Suddenly, you saw the Chinese side of you floating out from your original body, you grew stunned, and asked the boy "did you just see that?"

The boy says "see? You are not one! What are you?"

You said "A Christian". And then you see the other part of you floating out practising Christian rites. You are shocked again.

The boy shouts "Not one! Not one at all!!"

You grew impatient with the boy and says "Listen you...."

The boy asked one more time "What are you??"

You really feel like slapping the boy at this point, but in patience, and because the rest of the people along the streets ignored him, you answered "A student".

The boy's tears showed again. "Not one at all."

You got frustrated and asked with impatience "What are you crying about?"

He said "no one is One here. Look around you now, do you see anybody with one?"

You turned around and you're surprised, almost everyone carries their different identities with them. Some have four, five, six identities all onto them at once. You were surprised you've never seen this. In fact, you are surprised that in those identities, no one calls themselves a....

"Malaysian. I want my Malaysian" the boy mumbled in between tears.

You grew sad with him. You took his hand, and said "Come on, teach me. Teach me the meaning of being one, with this country".

You took his hand and both of you walk down the street. Somehow, forgetting you took the hand that holds his number One. You found it.

-End-

I know when I tried telling this to Marc, he said it was too abstract. I agree, but it's not like I'm the one writing the script LOL. I just came up with this concept.

The youngster shown here could have been any race actually, but I put Chinese because I'm most familiar with being called a Chinese. Not because I dare not put a Malay or an Indian. and the little boy's race, well it could've been anything, in fact the less is known about his race the better. His skin colour is so mixed you have a hard time figuring out exactly who or what is he.

Why a relationship between a youngster and a boy? Simple, a youngster, to me, is someone who could still be saved, could be taught the values of being a Malaysian without all that veil of hype, and they could definitely stop being so ignorant about their country and start doing something. And the reason why I show a little boy is because, I think and I still feel like one, that a child always try to do something heroic, and of course everytime he or she had thought of something, the adults always beat them down, crushing their hopes. Well, this child wants to be a Malaysian before getting separated into those little personalities the grown-ups in Malaysia are holding. I want to make sure he gets his wish unlike mine who's dreams has been crushed

Why this kind of sad story? I believe even if we call ourselves Malaysians we are still largely driven by the stupid "pack" mentality of a Chinese, a Christian, a Buddhist, a Malay. We will not see through those veils of keeping those comments away and instead should aspire to do more on respecting each other to achieve true harmony. I don't buy the 1Malaysia brand that has been recycled by ths PM's predecessors. Even if I believe in 1Malaysia, it should be something deeper, something definitely deeper than just purely scratching the surface of harmonious relationships.

And why I chose to write this out now? Because I've read too much, too much of youngsters who give up loving this country even before they've tried. I've read blogs of people who truly want to believe in Malaysia but could not even trust themselves to say that Malaysia is a perfect country for security and harmony. These are the people who were disheartened by the talks of these yabbering politicians whom, I seriously believe, have no idea what do they talk about when it comes to making policies. It's strange, to see all this people my age getting disappointed over things they think they cannot change anything in this country.

But I alone, cannot stop this. Even if I have looked in this society through a looking glass, I couldn't stop this impending danger of losing the brightest minds to someone else. In fact, I might as well just join them.

But maybe, just maybe, I'll return. When I've accumulated enough experience to call myself a journalist where people can take my words seriously, then I will return in hopes to make this country a better place.

But until then, creativity is losing out to the outside world. Having creativity bites.

And somehow, I have the feeling, my script concept will be spiked. Just saying.