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.